psychoshenanigans | GRATIA // PSL

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GRATIA // PSL

So, here's what Irahl knows.

He's alone in a dark, cold cave. He has most, if not all, of his gear. No one is guarding his location. As he heads away from the spot where he came to consciousness, no one tries to stop him, and no one gets in his way. The few people he finds down there seem human, and not about to approach the nearly-seven-foot man that comes stalking out of the lower tunnels. Honestly, everyone here seems a surprised and a little astonished about his... Entire scene.

There is a way up. It's a maze of twisting corridors and confusing passageways, half of which feel too small for him. It's bigger and bigger groups of people, some of which scatter like schools of fish, and some of which have to be pushed through to get anywhere. It's climbing up into streets lit with dingy lights, graffiti-covered hallways, warehouses, weird holes in stone walls that may or may not be windows. It's alarm bells, it's people yelling at each other down the street. It's just an absurd number of stairs. A couple of people make an attempt to stop him somewhere, and it goes poorly for them.

Elsewhere, events are being set in motion where Irahl cannot see. But he's on his way out.

Eventually, more people try to stop him. At the end of another long stretch of Underground city, a group of official-looking folks are putting a real effort into blocking off the obvious exit, and some of them have weapons.

Down a side alley, into another tunnel, and then the space opens up into a... Plaza, of some sort? The floor is made of stone. The buildings surrounding it are made of stone and are hard to distinguish from one another. At at least the ceiling (also made of stone) is a lot higher than before. Cavernous. There's some kind of sculpture in the middle of it, some impressive feat of geometric stonework that gives the illusion of defying gravity despite weighing literal tons.

This is where someone finally catches him. Sounds have been echoing unhelpfully down every passageway, making it hard to tell if people are coming or going - but this series of quick footsteps comes from an upward direction before someone hits the ground about five feet in front of Irahl.

His clothes are different. His hair is better-kept. Maybe if the situation wasn't quite so tense, there'd be time to see the ways in which his face is different, the way his eyes don't have quite as vicious and sharp a gleam as they used to. But whatever Irahl can take in of him, there is Robin, having hopped down from a rooftop to put himself between him and the exit again.

"...Holy shit."

Kind of weird that he looks absolutely shocked to see the person in front of him, though.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Between what Seth knows about Irahl's gear, and what he is observing in action, there is a clear tradeoff with what he is wearing. That cloak of his serves purposes other than simply functioning as camouflage. It obscures his stance and movements while in close combat, as well as helping to dull and deflect strikes before they potentially puncture his flex-armor. The downside is that it's impressively heavy and hinders some of Irahl's movement. He has space to move inside of it, allowing his half-crouched body to twist away from or bend with damaging blows, but it slows him down a little when attempting to move his entire body at once. It also limits the lateral motion of his arms, weighing on them from the sides whenever they go snaking out.

If Irahl loses the cloak, he'll be able to move more freely, but he'll be less armored and less obscured. Because of the extreme threat that Seth and his blades are, he's trying to keep to the security of his cloak for as long as possible.

So, without varied terrain, ranged weapons, or the other tricks that he would normally be using to gain the upper hand, his best strategy at the moment is try to keep his own momentum rolling forward. He definitely seems to have taken the order he'd been given to heart. Seth has a monster of a man urgently and unrelentingly trying to kill him, continuing to try and press forward, trying to slip through his defenses and get within the reach of his blades again.

Irahl knows that he won't get as lucky as that first strike had been, but he'll settle for picking him apart piece by piece if he has to.

Perhaps it's not surprising that Seth in combat feels like the complete opposite of his brother; Vincent is all wide swings and devastating blows, but Seth is almost frustratingly reserved. He doesn't waste energy, he doesn't drop his guard, and he does not take unnecessary risks.

In skill, Irahl and Seth are closely matched. Both fast, constantly on the move, they trade blows back and forth across the field--Seth testing for openings, picking at anything that might be a weakness, narrowly deflecting blades that dart out from the nebulous shape of Irahl's cloak. Ideally, Seth would be waiting for Irahl to wear himself out, but he quickly decides Irahl's too dangerous to gamble at outlasting the man in an endurance game.

Several close calls. A strike that tears through his armor, a gash on his upper arm. He parries what easily could have been a killing blow and strikes down hard, missing Irahl's body and stabbing his blade several inches into the hard sandstone below.

He abandons that sword, takes two fluid steps back, draws his third in its place, and darts back in to strike while Irahl is figuring out what to do with his cloak pinned to the floor.

When locked in a serious fight, it's easy to see Irahl as something only pretending to be human. He doesn't fight like someone trained in swordplay, or any other respectable fighting style. When he fights, his knives are teeth and claws. He fights like a reptile, forgoing unneeded motion and keeping his cards close to his chest until he strikes. He doesn't dodge like someone falling into the rhythm of reading an opponent and adapting accordingly, trading blows back and forth. His pattern is erratic and brutal, deflecting oncoming blades to rake off of his armor when avoiding something that would be vital, and often just unflinchingly absorbing them when they wouldn't. When he lashes out, he's just as often aiming for muscles and joints to maim his enemy's limbs as he is making strikes intending to kill.

It's easy to picture that he isn't blinking behind the glassy black of his visor. Like this, he doesn't even have the appearance of a human face to help keep up the illusion.

There is one moment of blatant humanity, however. The first truly human-seeming thing that Irahl does is to stumble and do a blatant doubletake when he realizes that his cloak has been staked to the ground.

Then, for a few moments, his mannerisms are all human. He's downright expressive by comparison--surprised and then mildly panicked--as he scrambles to unclasp and duck out from the curtain of bulky fabric, leaving it as a ghost of himself to be stabbed while he twists desperately away.

It's a close call, and he now has lost an important tool in this fight. He's only coat and armor and weapons that can be visibly tracked now, the light catching damp patches between the bands of his armor where he has been bleeding.

Then, his body language reverts, clearly becoming the highly-mobile and reactive poise of an animal that knows it's in trouble. He's caught out in the open instead of cornered, but the effect is similar. Vulnerable but twice as vicious.

And if this moment isn't alarming enough for Irahl, there's also an electrical pop and crackle as his cloaking device runs out of charge. Both of his cloaks are gone now.

This is a very good turn of events for Seth. Anyone else would have given some outward indication of satisfaction, like a self-assured smirk, or one of those amused little "heh"s on the tail end of a breath. But not this guy.

He's confident that this will end soon, but he doesn't for a second make the mistake of thinking the fight's about to get easier. It's just going to get more dangerous.

Seth unleashes a series of rapid slashes to keep his opponent's arms busy and absorb some of the frantic energy coming his way; he can see now what needs to be done to get past his armor. Most of Seth is aware that he shouldn't actually kill Irahl, but there's another, darker instinct singing in his blood. That part of him knows this fight won't satisfy either of them unless he comes very close.

Irahl is pushing him right up to his limits. With similarly inhuman focus, he weathers desperate strikes and near-miss after near-miss until he finally finds his opportunity--aiming a sword straight at for Irahl's side to try and pierce through his armor. A blow of that severity should give the other pause enough that Seth can finally call the fight.

They're both aware that this fight must be approaching its last moments, and Irahl knows that he won't be the one to give the final blow unless he can make a big play and find a way through Seth's defenses. Normally, he would think laterally and find something to switch up and use to his advantage. But there is no shield to turn into a battering ram, no fistful of mines, no elevation or cover to exploit. There isn't even anything to grab and throw. And even if there had been, his opponent isn't giving him a spare millisecond to glance around or think. He doesn't have room for anything but feverish reaction, moment to moment.

Then, in the middle of the frenzy, a tiny glimmer of opportunity finally presents itself. He lunges for it without hesitation.

The window is there because the blade that has been keeping him away on one side is angled down and driving forward. The trajectory is perfect. The blade is low and aimed for the side where his heart isn't. The only thought that he has time for is to hope that Seth keeps his blades as wickedly sharp as he guesses he does.

When he dives forward, he hardly feels anything but some resistance catch him low in the ribs.

Luckily for Seth, when Irahl's knife punches out toward his target, the strike isn't perfect. Maybe it would have been better if Irahl hadn't already spent nearly the entire day in combat, under the sun. It definitely would have been better if Seth hadn't been such a skilled target. Being impaled is also complicating things a little bit.

He would have loved to sever any of the vital blood vessels there, puncture into a chest cavity to fill it with blood, drive his blade to the hilt, but he'll settle for stabbing deep enough to feel the serrated edge bite down into bone. With his enemy hooked, he can hang on and slash in with a second blade in a wild bid to finish what the first one started.

It's not that Seth wasn't expecting Irahl to do something wild to try and counter being stabbed, but it will have to be forgiven that 'get yourself more stabbed' was not at the very top of his list of guesses.

Irahl's gambit pays off and Seth very suddenly has a knife punched down into his shoulder. An agonizing wound, even before he experiences the unique discomfort of being yanked forward. The noise he makes should have been one of pain, but it sounds far more angry than anything.

The careful fighter is suddenly gone; he smashes his head into Irahl's to send him reeling, follows with a devastating kick that could probably kill a human outright, and lunges forward with a fury he hasn't shown before. Seth doesn't give him a second to react before plunging his one remaining blade through Irahl's shoulder to return the favor.

Maybe he and Vincent do fight the same. Maybe Seth just hides it better.

He bares down aggressively over Irahl, pushing his sword through until he feels it fighting stone. He isn't growling or sprouting claws, but it's not hard to imagine that he's close. There's still a knife in his shoulder, forgotten.

Only once he's sure Irahl is pinned does he give his order.

"Stop."

In retrospect, Irahl will appreciate getting even a glimpse of the monster he knows must be in there just as much as it's also inside Vincent. He'll log away what he has learned about how the other man reacts and moves when he's pushed past this mental threshold. He'll appreciate the honesty.

At the moment, all can think about is how much everything suddenly hurts.

Seth's skull crashing into his face makes his ears ring, and he's vaguely aware of hearing some fastener crack before both his mask and visor go clattering to the ground. It's everything that happens after that part that really gets him, though.

Normally, a monstrous kick wouldn't be fun, but pretty standard when fighting rampaging, house-sized creatures. His bones are sturdy, and it's the kind of thing that his armor helps buffer against. However, his armor can't really help the fact that he has a sword stuck through his body when he's kicked. Having that jolted so badly lights up the wound that had been mostly painless a second ago, which then escalates dramatically when the ground slams into his back and the blade sticking out of it. New things twist and tear, and his hands come up and grab onto the blade just to hold it still.

Seth might not be growling, but Irahl is. They're both in rare form, now. He can't hope to catch himself before baring his teeth in a sharp-toothed snarl as his attacker pounces on him and sends a blade shearing down into his shoulder.

It's good that Seth orders him to stop, and it takes a second for the word to get through.

After a couple beats, the fact that another attack isn't raining down on him eventually gives him the room to think again. When it finally clicks, he moment is marked by his head slumping back to rest against the stone and the livid chill in the air dissipates.

Panting for breath, he's still grabbing onto the blade sticking out of him, but otherwise, he's done. Order received.

Seth is ready to kill him up until the very last moment. He looms over Irahl, leaning heavily on his sword, waiting intently. He has no thoughts of his brother's friend, or of an asset to his mission, only a deeply instinctual, predatory drive to kill it if it doesn't submit to his order.

It's only when the air changes, brushing against his less-used senses, that he's jarred into realizing he can stop. He lets go of the sword hilt, takes a step back. His breath suddenly returns to him and he has to take a second to catch up, the work of getting more air further labored by the knife wedged in his shoulder.

Which really fucking hurts. Annoyed, he tries to pull it out, and--nope, nope, bad idea. He grimaces, extremely inconvenienced. With a huff, he finally gives in to the dozen different warning bells ringing throughout his body and just kind of... Sits down, settling laboriously next to where Irahl is still pinned to the ground.

And then he continues to sit there for a few moments, breathing, being injured. He keeps Irahl at his side. There's almost something companionable about how he stays nearby, despite everything--or perhaps because of everything. Admittedly, Irahl probably isn't in a great place to appreciate the poetry of the moment, but maybe it'll hit him in retrospect.

"...Admirable," he finally says. It's a word that people often use in a sort of demeaning way, but here he means it as it was originally intended. Not a hint of sarcasm or implications of anything other than it being true.

Stupidly, he goes to try to get the knife out again. And it's still bad. Sighing at the troublesomeness of it all, he finally calls for Finn in the direction of the house. It'll be a few moments before the sound of a door hurriedly opening and closing becomes audible in the distance.

Edited (tag 1000 and I used the wrong icon yippee) 2024-11-03 23:14 (UTC)

Yeah, most of the subtler aspects of this encounter are going to have to wait until later for Irahl to process. He only has enough room to feel relieved when Seth goes from threatening death over his head to joining him down here on the floor.

Like Seth, the blades sticking out of him really do have a way of occupying his focus.

The one that he's half-laying on is a big problem. It isn't staked into the ground like the one in his shoulder is, but that would have at least kept it straight and stable. The thing had canted off to one side when he'd landed on it, and continues to be pressing in that direction as his weight holds down the rest of the blade. Torn things in his body are being pushed on, and the wound is painfully held open. He can tell that he's bleeding more than he'd like because of it.

He would love to pull either one of these things out of him, but he can't use one of his arms. This leads to an unfortunate struggle where he tries to pull out the much more dire one in his torso, immediately fails because of the other sword that is jamming up one shoulder, so tries to let go of the first blade with one hand so he can reach over and pull out the other blade. But he doesn't have the strength in his wounded arm to hold up the sword in his torso all on its own, so the blade starts falling over, which really fucking hurts. He breathes a pained growl through his teeth, (much more human-sounding this time), and quickly gives up.

He'll just lie here and continue to hold onto one of two swords stuck in him. It's fine.

"...That mean I pass?" His voice is strained with pain, but the dry, sardonic tone is still audible underneath.

He isn't dead yet, so he can still make jokes.

Hey, it's a pretty good joke. Seth makes a small sound that's essentially the lowest-effort hum of acknowledgement possible, his expression unchanged. You could almost call it a laugh if you'd never seen or heard someone laugh before.

Perhaps more telling is the fact that, after a moment, he reaches over to grab the hilt and just holds the loose sword straight. He doesn't take it out or anything, but at least it won't be actively tearing a bigger hole in Irahl for a remaining moments it takes for their medic to arrive.

There's the sound of footfalls hurrying up the path Irahl had been led down not long ago, and soon Finn skids to a stop at the edge of the courtyard with a bulky medical bag in hand.

"...Holy shit," is the only thing he can say at first, astonished to find these two so full of sharp objects. He tips down his sunglasses to make sure he's seeing everything correctly, his green eyes glowing like two big fireflies in the dark, "...What the fuck?"

Seth gives a very noncommittal response, which... Sounds almost exactly like his 'laugh' from earlier, honestly.

There is a split second there where Irahl sees a hand moving in from the side of his vision, heading toward the sword, and he suffers a pang of concern. All the things he imagines in that moment are pretty bad, so he is pleasantly shocked to see that it's for a reason that could be seen as helpful or even kind.

Well... first, when Seth straightens out the sword a little, he groans as he's hit with the particular kind of pain that comes from having something sharp move around in his organs. That spasm of pain then makes him cough a little. After that, he doesn't breathe at all for a few seconds, because it turns out that coughing is one of the most painful things he possibly could have done in that moment.

Then, once that agony subsides and he realizes that there isn't as much horrible pressure holding open his wound anymore, he's finally able to feel some surprise and appreciation.

Once he hears Finn announce his arrival, Irahl lets Seth's wordless acknowledgement speak for both of them. But he does weakly lift up a hand by a few inches in a mockery of a wave.

What an... Informative and helpful set of answers. Finn takes a couple of cautious steps in, like he's half-expecting to be shot full of knives himself at any moment.

"Are we... How are we feeling?" He asks, eyes darting very obviously between the three tremendous injuries he can see, "Can I get in here without anyone... Freaking out...?"

He means it in the sense that all three of them are monsters, and that fight had sounded pretty scary by the end, and he doesn't want to accidentally trigger some violent bloodlust in anyone. But this would also be a convenient time for anyone to voice if they're for some reason not on board with impending medical help.

Seth does actually consider this for a moment, while apathetically trying to ignore the knife in his shoulder. Ironically, it's kind of a good thing it hurts so much. It's distracting him from the strange way Irahl's blood smells.

"I'm all right," Seth decides, before glancing down at Irahl, for whom he is still propping up a sword in his body, "And yourself?"

Normally he wouldn't bother being polite, but right now he thinks it's funny.

Yeah, the absurdity factor is at least keeping Irahl's humor engaged, which is better than the other places his mood could be going, even if it's still not exactly an indication of a good mood. It's helping to distract from the pain. The combination of both sword wounds is one of the worst states he has been in after a fight in some time. He isn't currently in danger of imminent death, but it's still not great.

"Crick in my neck," is his reply. Then, he lifts a couple fingers in the direction of where his cloak is still pinned to the rock floor of the courtyard, and tilts his head just enough to make it clear he's now speaking to Finn. "This guy could use more swords. He ran out."

Seth very nearly smiles at that one. If Irahl isn't careful, he might actually get Seth to laugh. You know, out loud.

Meanwhile, Finn is less amused, but the quips do at least answer his question. He heads over with a little more urgency, stowing his sunglasses fully in his bag.

"Got an idea where a couple went," he mutters, kneeling down next to Irahl to get a better look at this pretty intense situation. He swears again when he realizes the sword in Irahl's shoulder is wedged significantly deeper than the actual depth of said shoulder.

"I thought you said you were going to spar with him," Finn remarks as he starts to dig through his bag, "Not turn him into a pin cushion..."

As distressing and urgent as all of this looks, Finn's combat experience is primarily as a field medic, so he knows how to move quickly and prioritize what will do the most good the fastest. He yanks off his gloves and puts on a different pair from inside the bag. Seth says nothing in response to his accusations, not particularly remorseful and feeling absolutely no need to justify himself.

"We've got to get that sword out," States Finn, pointing briefly to the one Seth is holding, "But on my signal. New Guy, how worried are you about blood loss?"

Now that medical attention seems imminent and he doesn't have to think so hard about being patient and keeping his cool until that happens, the antsiness to no longer be impaled and staked to the ground climbs quickly.

The fact that a third person is being introduced to this situation may unconsciously be part of it. It's not that he doesn't want the help. But it's one thing to be ripped apart and vulnerable next to the guy who was there when it happened, and another for someone new to come in and scrutinize it for the first time.

He has also never been considered the most cooperative patient in the world. So, the terseness is not only due to the pain when he answers.

"It's fine. Just get it out."

"Great," responds Finn, apparently more than ready to take that statement at face value and not ask any further questions, "Seth, go for it."

With a slight wince of his own, Seth pulls his own sword out of Irahl in one swift motion. At least the sharpness of the blade makes it less of an agonizing experience than it could be. Seth sets his sword down off to the side before he very gingerly starts to get to his feet.

"Can you... Oh," Finn says, since Seth is already on it, "Yeah, we need this guy sitting up for a second. How are you with pain killers?"

The second question is sent towards Irahl, even though Finn is keeping his eyes on Seth to make sure the guy doesn't pass out from blood loss while he's up there. Irahl will have significantly less warning before Seth goes and pries up his second sword from out of Irahl's shoulder.

Finn is going to have to wait on that answer. Irahl is paying far more attention to what is about to happen at his shoulder than whatever the medic is asking. Having the first sword pulled out of him was awful in a visceral, nauseating sort of way, but the sheer relief of it almost balances out the pain. He's not so lucky with the shoulder.

There are many pathways of nerves and tendons to be damaged up in the shoulder, and there's more anxiety attached to it. He only needs some of his organs to remain intact, but he definitely needs both of his arms. Also, he's aware of the fact that this sword is going to require a bit more of a yank to pull it loose.

He does what he can to brace himself for it, but still grimaces and growls between his teeth when Seth wrenches that thing up out of his shoulder as well as the stone beneath it.

As soon as he's free, Irahl clamps a hand over the newly exposed wound, but it has nothing to do with trying to stop the bleeding. Aggravated nerves are sending miniature lightning bolts of pain down his arm, so he just... needs a minute. With a quiet and annoyed groan, he rolls slowly onto his side to just breathe and bleed and enjoy not being trapped on his back anymore.

In a minute, he'll sit up or move or whatever else they want, but he's first going to close his eyes and take a couple of composing breaths before he's ready to cooperate again.

Finn says nothing during all of this, in part because he instinctively freezes and stares at Irahl when he hears him growl. It's an involuntary reaction, one he's glad to shake out of and start moving past the moment his senses return to him.

Seth, meanwhile, doesn't seem concerned. He stoically sets (well, kind of drops) his sword down next to the other one, then continues standing because the idea of sitting back down again seems like more trouble than it's worth.

In the end, Irahl will have plenty of time to gather himself, because Finn has to go and order Seth to sit back down again. Seth isn't a particularly good patient either, sighing again like this whole thing is a bothersome chore before finally, begrudgingly, settling back down. Finn gets a better look at the knife wedged in his boss' shoulder and starts to form a plan.

"This is going to be a bitch to get out," he can be heard murmuring in Seth's direction, "And then you'll bleed even more than you are now. I think I can stitch you up pretty quick, but I'm not going in there without an anesthetic."

Seth frowns, pausing to think as if he's actually considering any alternative... But eventually he nods, cueing Finn to go get the things he needs from his bag.

"You, painkillers--" If Irahl's anything close to useful by this point, Finn shoves a cap with a couple of capsules in it into his hand. He's been very careful not to touch him up until now, but this is pretty important. "Take these when you're ready."

And then he scurries back to go attend to Seth--who will be getting about the same orders, but without the nicety of 'when you're ready' on the end.

As eager as Irahl had been to roll onto his side a minute ago, he's already lying on his back again by the time that Finn addresses him, the forearm attached to his good shoulder draped over his eyes. He apathetically accepts the pills, but for once doesn't have to think very long before actually taking them.

He has been through plenty of worse situations without medication before--the overwhelming majority of them, in fact--but he would love to be at least a little bit numb to this particular situation. Between the pain lancing through his body, the attention he's about to endure, and still being a little rattled from the intensity of the fight, his nerves feel frayed. Pills sound great.

While he waits for his next turn with the medic, be begins gingerly unbuckling his armor, as that takes a minute even when not working around two grisly wounds.

A strange sort of dissonance settles over the court. Finn is treating this like an emergency situation in which every second counts, apparently committed to doing some light surgery right here in Seth's backyard. Seth still seems more inconvenienced by the wasted time than anything. As their doctor continues to chatter quietly to himself and to his patient, and Seth keeps responding with as little sound or motion as possible. For a while, all of it happens as if Irahl is one of the tranquil pillars surrounding the space and not a conscious, very-injured person who can see and hear them.

And then the meds start kicking in. Finn gave him a big dose because he didn't know if they would even work. It takes an edge off of the pain, which is still present but becoming increasingly distant. It's a little numbing. Sure makes laying around on a hard stone floor more comfortable, though.

Next to him, Finn starts working the knife out of his boss's shoulder. He's delivered as much local anesthetic as he thinks is medically safe, but it still seems very painful and takes much longer than anyone wants. Seth keeps his eyes closed and is concentrating very hard on not making any noise.

"Fucking... Insane," Finn grimaces as he tries very, very hard not to accidentally sever a tendon on his way out, "You're extremely lucky this didn't land any lower..."

Finally, with a wet tearing sound the knife is fully removed and tossed aside. Seth looks momentarily a little sick as he instinctively curls forward and holds the wound, which is now gushing blood all over the front of his previously-nice shirt.

But at least now Finn can work. He'll bully Seth out of his armor and shirt, get him to lie down, and start working out of a mat he's rolled out. Tools, vials, supplies are all laid out nicely on a sanitized surface.

Somewhere around the time the meds start kicking in, Irahl closes his eyes. As grateful as he is for the anesthetizing effects, he doesn't love the feeling of medication in his system. Even alcohol, the thing that he has been visiting more and more often lately, can trigger the aversion. It isn't an overwhelming sensation, but it makes him a little nauseous and reminds of things he'd rather not be thinking about.

But he doesn't like thinking about the fact that he can feel his heartbeat in his ears either, as he bleeds from what he's pretty sure is a sliced liver. Even lying on his back, he's making a puddle of dark blood on the sandstone beneath him.

So, he sends his mind off wandering elsewhere, (which is helped along by the drugs,) only surfacing briefly to frown when he hears his very nice knife clattering against stone.

There's a stretch of silence where they're just two giant men laying around, bleeding all over the ground, while a weird little monster-guy flushes out and stitches closed the wound as best as he can. It takes Finn a little while to figure out exactly what's going on, but his eyes keep telling him that something about the wound is corrupted and wrong.

But he's not as opposed to talking as some people here... So about halfway through his work, he starts directing words over his shoulder at Irahl.

"Hey, uh... Quick question for the other floor guy. What's up with your knife?"

He turns to finish pulling a stitch closed before he adds, "Aside from it being just stupid big, I mean. What's it doing to his shoulder?"

This series of questions is also partly to check and make sure Irahl is still conscious and whether or not the drugs are kicking in.

Irahl returns to his body when he hears himself being addressed, which is kind of a bummer.

He sounds pretty hoarse and uncomfortable when he answers, even more terse than usual. It hurts to use his diaphragm. If he'd bother to be a little wordier, it would be easier to tell if the drugs are working or not, but he of course keeps it as brief as possible.

"Arcana. Healing will be fucked up."

Finn doesn't exactly know what arcana means, but he isn't Nikaro or Jandru. He doesn't really need to know the details, and he's not necessarily interested in learning more. He just needs to know that second part, the important part.

"Great, great. Cool, cool, cool," Finn says, "And Seth, you needlessly put yourself at risk of being stabbed with a fucks-up-healing-knife because...?"

Seth has been laying there with his eyes closed for long enough that he could easily be mistaken for sleeping. But he's been listening, and he responds quickly enough.

"I've no use for people who don't do as they've promised."

Finn pauses in sewing to stare at Seth for a moment before hesitantly looking for some clarity, "...Was that an answer to my question, or are you telling me to hurry up?"

"Yes," states Seth, eyes still closed.

"...Oookay," says Finn, who genuinely cannot tell if Seth is deadly serious, starting to get loopy, or just fucking with him. They go back to looking at their work so they can wrap this up as quickly as possible. "You both sound great. Glad you're both okay with whatever happened here."

Seth responds with a small murmur of agreement--which both misses Finn's tone entirely, and puts his involvement in the social dynamic of this situation at a record high, which may both be signs that the drugs have fully kicked in.

Edited 2024-11-04 21:21 (UTC)

Speaking of social participation, with Irahl's brain feeling cushioned and helped along in its wandering, letting the conversation happening near him filter in and out of his mind, it eventually drifts into a small realization. He's replaying snapshots from the fight, and he recalls something that prompts him to actually pipe up from his place on the ground.

The timing and cadence makes it sound as though he's replying to the last thing that Finn has said, but he's actually speaking to Seth. He doesn't put any effort into making that part clear, so he's just idly hoping that one of the two of them will figure it out.

"Think you broke my visor."

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