XOqNI

[tongueamok]

Hello, this is Carlisle. I mean, it's not Carlisle as in I'm actually answering you right now, so if you're trying to reply to me at the second, you should probably save your breath because I'm not really here. This is some kind of a recording of my voice, but this is my communicator. I'm going to assume these devices are as common here as they are in other places — not my world, but others, ones more technologically advanced than where I come from— so if you'd like to leave me a message, then you may do so here, or er... Right. Here is fine. So just leave yo— [beep]

Comments

[voice]

[circumitus]

Got a little fucked up.

... [Cough.]

Okay. A lot fucked up. Need help with that.

[voice]

[tongueamok]

I expect you cannot get to me, then.

[Whyyyyyy today. But this is Rey and he said he'd do anything to make amends, so he's sliding out of bed, his body still fatigued from Armand's latest feeding.]

[voice]

[circumitus]

[Sorry, Carlisle. Her timing is just the worst.]

In a closed down shop. Few blocks from the Guard HQ. Near the bridge.

[voice]

[tongueamok]

Fine. I will be there shortly.

[Or as short as he can make it. Give him about twenty minutes, if you can survive that long, Rey.]

[action]

[circumitus]

[By all means, man. Don't rush on her account!

[Although her description is a little vague, she should be easy enough to find via tracking on her phone if there are any troubles. They aren't too far from the Guard HQ and Armory, but far enough where they're a good distance from being caught up in the recent chaos that transpired there.

[There is no blood. Instead, Carlisle will discover a trail of thick black waxy liquid from the entrance of the ramshackle shop to a corner. Where Rey has her back propped to the wall while sitting on a desk.

[She's scarcely clothed, wearing only the minimum in order to be more efficient when coated in the samandrine. Patches of skin are still caked in a black substance, still dry like a think layer of light armor, now all broken up. Her hair is slicked back, greasy-looking with each strand having been bound in the black.

[Fortunately, she has a blanket wrapped around herself to make up her lack of modesty. However this is also covering the worst of her injuries when Carlisle arrives.]

[ditto]

[tongueamok]

[Unfortunately, Carlisle is too technologically inept to figure out how to use the tracking on the phones; thankfully, Rey's description gets him in the right neighborhood, and after that, it's not hard to follow the trail of blood to—

Oh, oh no. That isn't blood. Carlisle isn't sure what it is, but following it leads him to a very, very worn Rey. While Carlisle himself looks exhausted in comparison to his usual composure, Rey has set the bar pretty high on who looks the most ragged. He makes his way over to her, pulling at his gloves to free his hands.]

Cisth, what happened? What is all this?

[circumitus]

[She fails to stifle another cough, tasting blood in her mouth. As Carlisle makes his way over, she draws part of the blanket out, where she is wearing a bandeau underneath. This also reveals a set of deep burn marks trailing from her ribs to six inches downward, similar in shape to something of an animal attack. It's clear that the burnt tissue is the only thing keeping her insides from falling out.]

Got into some shit. Little worse than a headshot this time.

[Despite her attempt at levity with a severe understatement, she isn't laughing. It would probably only make things worse, anyway.]

[tongueamok]

[He hisses through his teeth, his fingers curling with immediate disgust.]

Oh. Oh, you are really, really hurt. Right. I can do this.

[It's just going to take nearly all he has. She might not be fully healed, but he must do what he can. He has to make amends, and besides that, would rather not see her dead. Maybe.]

I'm going to put my hands on you and start channeling. You remember what that feels like, right? With the burning in your veins that, frankly, will not be nearly as bad as what you've apparently already been through.

[circumitus]

[The fact that her organs are just barely kept intact by scar tissue speaks volumes for how great Rey is doing right now.]

Looks worse than it feels, actually. [She says, coughing up blood into her palm. Both hands are badly mangled as well, having been punctured in the maws of what might as well have been a crocodile.

[Seriously, fuck Sato's invisible friend.

[She nods in response to Carlisle's query:] Insides are probably pretty scrambled. Not going to hold it against you if there isn't much you can do.

[The corners of her lip twitches as blood trickles down the side of her mouth, attempting a reassuring gesture or something like it. She doesn't know the extent of this man's healing abilities, but this is a far cry from the first injury he's tended to.]

[tongueamok]

I will do what I must, Miss Rey.

[He says that with more conviction than usual, despite his weariness. He pauses only another moment as he tries to find just where he should put his hands, and after gingerly setting them upon the scar tissue, he pushes energy into her.

It's a small amount at first as he does a cursory survey of her wounds from the inside. Rey is a mixture of both organic and inorganic -- something he'd gotten an inkling of in dealing with her wounds in the past, but that he's just fully realizing now. That complicates matters a bit, but thankfully, most of the work needs to be done on the living parts rather than the unliving ones. Living tissue has an energy all its own, and it's far easier to manipulate someone else's energy into help them heal wounds than it is to do it all on his own.

That doesn't mean he won't be giving up a good portion of what he has to accomplish this task, but this is his one talent, his one worthwhile skill in life. If he cannot do this, what good is he?

Carlisle starts with the organs first, channeling his own energy into and through them, finding what needs repairs as the current of his aura butts against internal injuries. The tissues string themselves back together, pulling themselves into the right places until they are like new.

The hands next, he decides, redirecting his channel. So far, so good. There's a cracking of what he can assume is either bone or metal or something as her fingers readjust, but midway through, he stops pulling upon her energy to do it for fear she'll pass out. She can take a lot of abuse, she's obviously not impervious, and it was taking a great deal of what she had to stay alive until he got to her. Carlisle steels himself with a breath, ignores the pounding behind his eyes, and continues work on her hands with his magic alone.

While an accomplished and talented healer even by his world's standards, Carlisle isn't used to having to basically put someone back together. That might be a challenge, but not impossible, or even exhausting; however, trying to do so while still recovering from feeding a vampire is an entirely different issue, and as he finishes with her hands, he can feel himself reaching a breaking point. Still, he maintains his careful channel, trying to dole out his magic only where necessary. He mustn't waste any.

He leaves her ribs for the moment and goes back to her abdomen, which fared far worse than anywhere else. Now that the organs are all back in working order, he needs to mend the muscle and skin that goes atop it, that holds Rey together. His breath catches in his throat, ink slipping between his teeth, but he keeps pushing, forcing the tissues to come together. His head thunders as the scarred tissue gives way to repaired flesh; it feels as though it may explode as he grinds his teeth together and- and—

He eventually has to tear his hands from Rey, his entire frame trembling. While she's in much better condition than when he walked in, he's not: Carlisle's legs collapse underneath him, his eyes rolling back into his head, his body shaking as he chokes on the black bile.]

[circumitus]

[There would be a lot more complaining and reaction if Rey's pain threshold isn't what it is. It is strange to feel a sharp burning sear through her; a sensation that normally doesn't harm her. But this is different. This is something that isn't scientific or logical or exist in her world at all.

[Well. Save for what her father can do, though he is a special case. It's what made his blood so valuable throughout the centuries, and what makes Rey different from something that's made out of synthetic or cloned human tissue. What heals most wounds within days and not weeks or months or even years.

[Her father is the last figure she wants on her mind, however. She closes her eyes, tries to think of something else. All her thoughts can return to are the events that led to these injuries. The teeth tearing into her hands. The claws ripping into her insides. A human would have been dead long before Carlisle could even be called, let alone make the trip and tend to her like he is now.

[The pain is still there when he stops. Just significantly less than before. She snaps her head up at him and blinks, only to find him on the brink of passing out.

[Great.]

Hey!

[Now able to move without worrying about disrupting her damaged organs, she's quick to move forward. The blanket slips from her shoulders, but most of her lower half is still covered by the dried layer of black. Not that she's worried about that, when she's more focused on propping Carlisle upright and looking for somewhere for him to get off his feet. She doesn't even pay any attention to the black ink coming out of his mouth, since it's virtually indistinguishable from the samandrine already on her skin.]

Hang on. Going to put you in a chair. [Despite him being on the taller, lankier side, Rey has little trouble carrying his weight to a wooden chair long enough to set him down. She was messed up enough before that this is hardly worth batting an eye at.]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle doesn't respond as Rey picks him up, completely and utterly dead weight as she sets him in the chair. He sputters to life a moment later as he suddenly straightens up, raising a shaking hand to his lips and hacking into it. Ink comes up, as expected... followed by more and more, the flow heavy as it spills on his tabard from his mouth.]

S- s- s- sorry, Miss— [his voice trembles as he rubs at his face, the ink seeping out from beneath his nails smearing across him] — Miss- Miss Rey. I w- wasn't ex- expecting to be s- so worn from the f- f- feeding and I did wh- what I could with what I h- h- had to w- work with and I think y- y- you are mostly in one p- p- piece an—

[He doubles over, his hand clutching violently at his abdomen as another flood of the black bile spills from him.]

[circumitus]

[Having done her fair share of hauling dead weight, Rey can handle Carlisle's just fine. Even after fighting off an invisible creature that tried to strangle the life out of her after its attempts to thoroughly disembowel her, she can bite through the remaining pain to deal with this. Though a few minutes ago she would be concerned with her insides either spilling out or finishing her off within, neither of those things happened. And now she has to deal with... this.

[If Rey had known that this was going to happen, she would have thought twice about calling Carlisle. She can barely make sense out of a word he keeps stuttering, and her immediate assumption is shock. Only he isn't choking out blood so much as it's... whatever the hell that black stuff is.

[Just as she had set him up, he's falling again. Rey catches him again by the shoulders, placing him upright while he sorts out whatever this fit he's having is. Sure, the black bile ends up on the floor and at her bare feet, but who is she to whine?]

What the hell is wrong with you?!

[tongueamok]

[The one hand stays at his middle; he raises the other defensively, as though to stop any worry she may be experiencing. It's a late attempt, given the way ink is still streaming from him, running down his chin on its way to the floor, the drops audible as they hit the metal plates on his shoes.]

There's n- nothing wrong w- with me. [His nose wrinkles as he says that, and though his eyes are closed, the disdain that lies within them is written across the rest of his face.] I- I pushed too hard f- for the condition I am- am in is all. This- this is normal.

[For him, maybe. He does seem to finally be catching his breath, the discharge of ink slowing down. He utters another apology, though it seems more as a reflex to another cough than a genuine sentiment.]

[circumitus]

Bullshit. This-- [She gestures at Carlisle, at the geiser of ink he's been spewing.] --isn't normal, just like how this-- [And now she points at herself, indicating the black smudges of samandrine still on her skin.] --is not normal. Where is that shit coming from? Is it terminal?

[From where Rey is standing, it looks like Carlisle has some sort of freak illness. And that wouldn't be nearly as disconcerting if it weren't for the fact that she's seen more than her share of freak illnesses over the decades. Seriously. Fuck biological warfare.

[After a moment, she steps back. Breathes. Attempts to be calm this time.]

Thank you, by the way.

[Huff.]

[tongueamok]

[It takes a moment, but Carlisle's eyes manage to focus on the black blotches that dot Rey's skin. Right, he had seen that when he came in, hadn't he? Before all the panic and the part where he was sure she was going to die right then and there. He draws his bandaged arm across his mouth, leaving another black stain across it, and tells himself to ask about that later -- likely after he's caught his breath and soothed both his and her alarm.]

You- you're welcome, Miss Rey. [He stifles a small cough, the back of his throat raw.] Not an illness, I assure you. A consequence of a condition I have. Not contagious. Not fatal.

[Though the way he's completely exhausted from all the ink he hacked up probably isn't encouraging. At least she can't tell his limbs are going numb from a surface inspection.]

You well enough?

[He'd use more words, but his voice is already bordering on raspy, and he doesn't want to worry Glacius any more than he already does. He's just hoping to be able to return home and scrub the stains from his clothing before his roommate returns.]

[circumitus]

[Rey's eyes narrow. A "consequence" of the condition? Not a symptom, or a side effect? Carlisle talk like he brought this on himself. Maybe he did. She doesn't know. It occurs to her very suddenly just how little she does know this person, despite asking him for help.]

Will have to be. The rest will just heal on its own time. [Something which she isn't all too bothered with.

[Not sure what else to do with herself, Rey goes to scavenge the run-down shop to locate a clean towel, blanket, something. Anything that hasn't already been sullied by samandrine, anyway.

[Shortly later, she tracks down the cleanest handkerchief she can find, returning to Carlisle and handing it to him. If nothing else, he can clean that shit off his face.]

What is that stuff?

[tongueamok]

[By the time Rey returns, Carlisle is looking marginally more alive than he had been: though as sickly pale as ever and still shaking, he no longer seems to be on the verge of passing out in a puddle of black goo. Small improvements.

He takes the handkerchief with a brief word of gratitude, and after a second's struggle, conjures an orb of water into his palm. He wets the fabric and removes his glasses, glad to have something to clean his face. His clothing will be much harder, but he's become an excellent scrubber at this point.]

Black bile. Again, it- it is nothing you need to concern yourself with. I am simply- simply worn out and should have taken it slower. I s- suppose I was too eager to be of some use to you.

[To prove himself more competent than he's sure his last conversation with her would have led her to believe.]

[circumitus]

[Hey now, he isn't two seconds away from being knocked out puking black shit all over himself and she isn't going to wake up tomorrow to her entrails scattered all over the place. For what it's worth, that's the best possible outcome to a party's end in Rey's book.

[She squints as Carlisle does his thing. Even making water from nothing after exerting himself from healing, no less. The rules of what makes his abilities work is perplexing to her.

[What's more perplexing is what he tells her.]

Why? Because you wanted to help, or because you still feel accountable for what you did to "her"?

[The other Rey. It's easier not to refer to that other version as hersslf.]

[tongueamok]

[He looks at the blackened mess that ruins the handkerchief. At least his face is relatively clean, even if the rest of him still isn't.]

Both. I will do what I must to repay my debt.

[Yes, even to this other Rey.]

[circumitus]

[A pang shoots through her ribs, but it's easy enough to ignore. Rey grits her teeth through it as she stares at Carlisle. His bizarre devotion to this guilt complex is confounding, even to her, who feels the gravity of actions caused by people who weren't even her.]

Yes, well. Consider your debt or whatever repaid. [Her fingers clasp at her side, as she reminds herself for all it truly is: Pain.

[It's only pain.]

[tongueamok]

[The weary part of him that is tired of dealing with his own guilt wants to accept that; the other part, which doesn't know what to do if he's not dealing with guilt, cannot. He stripped her friends of their free will -- some healing, no matter how complicated, does not equal a sin like that.

Unfortunately, he's not sure what could. Her acceptance of his work as a debt repaid may have to do. He dodges the subject for the second, folding the fabric in his hands.]

What happened, if I may ask?

[circumitus]

[Even after being healed, the fatigue kicks in all over again. She scoops up the blanket she dropped, wrapping it around her once more. Not because she's coy, or that she's cold, but it makes her feel more secure. Safer? Samandrine is not a pretty sight for most people, just like the Salamander itself that wore the stuff like some sort of flaming armor. It isn't skin she is happy wearing, and is more eager to shed it.]

Attack on the HQ. Wasn't going to intervene, but the guy has an invisible friend that runs around for him. Seen it tear into a bunch of androids in the tunnels. It would've mowed down certain people on the Guard.

[tongueamok]

[He lets out a shaky breath, flexing his fingers to fight the numbness that's quickly spreading through his limbs.]

The Guard?

[Yes, the Guard. The City Guard. The people who protect the city. The Guard that Glacius is a part of. That Guard. He's out of that chair in an instant.]

Is that where Gla—

[And the next instant, he stops himself from collapsing entirely by clinging to a nearby desk. The numbness is well into his legs, and he wasn't prepared to stand on them. He hisses and bites back some pain of his own.]

Glacius! Is he all right? Was he here?

[circumitus]

[Glacius?

[Oh, right. Rey did see him hanging out in the Guard Headquarters before Sato decided he wanted to throw a "party" there. She blinks as Carlisle shoots up from his seat.]

Noticed some of the defenses that looked like his handiwork, but didn't see him there when everything was happening. Haven't heard of there being any casualties.

[Other than Sato, but he doesn't count. Which is about as much consolation that Rey can give at the moment.]