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dawn-aethwyn · 3 years ago

Text

Just a Flesh Wound

The ride back was a blur.

He could vaguely recall two members of the Skydancer’s Crew trying to help lift him up off the ground where he’d settled after dragging himself from the wreck. Try being the key word, as shortly after they’d started to lift him up a wave of pain and nausea had over take him and they’d quickly realized that his left arm was dislocated while his left leg didn’t look like it was going to be bearing weight, at least not until after some significant medical treatment.

And he wasn’t even the more significantly injured of the pair that had gone out on assignment.

As they settled him on the bed from the stretcher he was carried in on, Ricard heard voices – movement – he could feel the difference in the atmosphere between that of the ship and that of the clinic, but his head was foggy and he was finding it difficult to concentrate on much of anything. He turned his head, trying to find something to focus on and settling on the closest moving figure, which seemed to be a familiar one at that before his eyes drifted shut once more for a long stretch of time.

Khair had been called in to assist Dawn with the injuries a few had sustained while on a mission. It wasn’t an uncommon thing but typically unheard of that all those within the group had returned with significant injuries. It was a wonder they still had their lives.

Miss Himaa had made sure the crew had taken their other patient to the overflow where it happened to be a little more of a quiet space to work within since Dawn had been preoccupied with Hakan.

She had already seen to pulling the little bits of shrapnel from Ricard’s skin, extremely minor wounds but ones that needed tending to all the same. She had even taken advantage of Ricard’s unconscious state to patch the other wounds. With a little bit of aether and care, it wasn’t long until she had those wounds seen to. However; his arm had her a little stumped since she couldn’t entirely heal bone as one would hope. “You’ll get him up on his feet soon enough I suspect?” the Highlander’s voice came from over Khair’s shoulder. Undoubtedly it was Nijah – likely checking in. She stood stoic as per the norm with her hands latched to her hips as she watched the practitioner work.

“With any luck, a few hours. Some of the wounds are superficial but the others were quite deep. They’re healed up nice enough but this…” Khair grunted lowly as she reached to try and get a better look at Ricard’s arm. A dislocation it seemed and with a hum and exhaled sigh Khair looked back over her shoulder, “Dislocations are easy enough to treat – atleast he still has his arm.” A low tch came from Nijah as her tongue passed over one of her canines, pondering a moment, “Right, well I’ll leave you to it then. You can tell them both when they wake and are healed they can come debrief.”

Nijah didn’t even wait for a response as Khair looking at her when she was addressed was enough of a confirmation for her. Nijah certainly had a way of being able to draw one's attention. With Ricard’s arm in hand, Khair returned her attention back to the patient and turned his arm a fraction by the wrist, her free hand to the nape just above the shoulder and she straightened the limb before guiding the ball of his arm back into its socket with a sickening, soft pop.

That earned her a low groan from her patient, followed by a series of what sounded like curse words all jumbled together. Ricard exhaled sharply through his nose before blinking slowly, trying to bring the room into focus and trying not to focus on the throbbing pain radiating from his left shoulder. But at least his shoulder looked like a shoulder again.

He blinked again as he realized that there was a hand still on his arm, and the other still on his shoulder, his gaze moving up until he made eye contact with Khair. He tried to offer what he thought was a ‘charming’ smile, but between the pain, and the medication he’d ingested hours before, he looked nothing short of goofy. “Ah, Miss Himaa. We meet again!’

“Indeed.” she spoke and she looked over her patient’s arm once more to test its current range. Khair’s fingers slipped down to his wrist and popped open the small, silver chronometer that hung from her belt. With two digits at his wrist she began to count the rhythmic beats of his pulse.

After a stretch of silence she finally dropped his hand and went back to work, stepping out of the room momentarily only to come back with another tray, this time with far less utensils, “I can’t help wonder if you’re another one of those members in the company I’ll be seeing every month.” she added jokingly and pulled a neatly folded sling from the tray she had placed at the end of the medical bed.

Ricard hummed thoughtfully, his eyes closing again for a moment. “A fair question. Given the most recent information I’d be inclined to guess that the answer to that might be yes, since that is the going trend.” He opened his eyes turning his head enough to glance at her once again with a tired grin. “Normally my…line of work doesn’t put me in situations where I’m in such close combat. I knew the situation we were going into was going to be rough, I was expecting to come out of it beat up, but I certainly wasn’t expecting to need to be carried out.”

Khair simply nodded, listening and she went about her work all the same, lowering the linen fabric along Ricard’s front from the top of his shoulder and a few ilms shorter than where his naturally bent arm would have been. With a few cuts of the shears the Xaela had on hand, she tied a knot using the two ends of the fabric.

The grin faded a bit, not entirely but enough to indicate that he was at least semi-serious, “I heard something crack when the big bastard I was fighting decided to slam his pistol down ontop of my shoulder. Asshole did it twice, actually. And he as a good bit bigger than me too.” He shook his head for a moment before taking a quick breath, the grin returning as he caught sight of the sling. “I take it that’s for me, hm? So, what’s my prognosis, good physician? A bum shoulder, a gunshot wound to the leg, and…oh no.” “Must have been quite the whack.” she finally spoke, letting Ricard talk, weaving his story about the mission he had just come out of – not so unscathed. Twitching her mouth to the side she looked over the sling once more to lower it down and try to adjust it along Ricard’s opposite shoulder and to fit it towards his injured arm and shoulder, creating a cozy hammock for it.

He reached up with his good arm for the ear that’d been clipped. “How much of my ear did the bastard get? Tell me it doesn’t look too bad….” “You’ll have a bit of a point since I had to sew it closed but for the most part it shouldn’t be too noticeable unless people get really close to you. There will be scarring, as will there be with the bullet holes in your body. Thankfully cartilage heals decent enough.” She took a half step back and placed her hands to her hips as she gazed down to Ricard, “You should be discharged tomorrow with some minor potions to help you out, there should be minimal pain but I’ll send you home with something for that as well.”

Tilting her head she looked down to his calf were it had been wrapped, “The worst of the wounds seemed to be the one in your leg. Took some time to stop the bleeding. The skin healed nicely but just keep an eye on it.” She smiled a little and walked to the sink to scrub down her hands – a habit for those within the clinic and one that was good to get into, “Your friend is doing well by the by. Doctor Aethwyn is seeing to him.”

“Belgrave? That’s good to hear. He had a bit more protection on than I did, but he took a few more hits than I did too. Both somehow managed to make it out of the clusterfuck alive…just with a few extra holes.” His fingers traced along the edge of his ear for a moment. “Or in my case, with a slightly pointed ear.” He chuckled. “You know - there was a point where I was given grief because my ears were too rounded growing up, being a Hyur growing up in a primarily Elezen society and all…maybe this helps with that, hm?”

She turned the faucet on quietly and lathered her hands up listening to Ricard speak, “Not quite, I imagine it’s not quite pointed enough to pass for anything but a Hyur. Still a little shit out of luck there.” She smiled, the corner of her lips pinned inward to her cheek as she turned back to face him, drying her hands.

He adjusted his head on the pillow before shrugging his good shoulder. “Probably not, but it’s a thought. Now, paying attention to more serious thoughts, I’ll keep an eye on the leg wound and similar to last time, I get sent home with potions and something for pain, though there shouldn’t be much…again, similar to last time. Considering the state I was in when I crawled out of that wreck I am, once again, incredibly impressed…because-” he motioned towards his shoulder,”-I was convinced that was never going to look like a normal shoulder again when I saw that after the dust had settled.”

“Ay that's what I said. And while your shoulder was dislocated, your muscles and bones were still intact and nothing a little bit of finesse can’t fix. It’ll be painful and stiff for a little just be careful with it. You can take the sling off while showering or laying but when you’re standing its best to always wear it. At least for a week or two, gravity likes to work against healing limbs and sockets.” she reached to place the towel down into the linen bin to later be collected and washed, “It’s okay, you’re not mangled and still very much young and decent looking.”

“Oh!” she paused at the foot of the bed and gathered up the tray, “Lady Cress was in earlier and asked about the situation. You were out of it quite hard but she did ask how you both were getting on. I suppose word here gets around quite quickly.” Khair rolled her eyes followed by a gentle sigh, “Guess someone in her position hears about everything that goes on here. No surprise.”

Ricard quirked an eyebrow. “Only decent looking? That explains quite a bit actually. I suppose I’ll need to put a bit more effort into my appearance then, hm?” He reached up with his right hand and ran his hand through his hair for a moment. “Vahalia? Really? That’s…interesting. Though you’re right, she would be in a position to know about all the comings and goings of the company. That is very much part of her job. Do you often have people checking in like that after a mission is completed with injuries?” He shifted his head on the pillow again, trying not to let his thoughts stray too far. “Not on my account.” Khair responded and she tucked the tray along her hip, forearm pinning it into a graceful balance. She watched him, much of his mannerisms reminded her of someone – it was enough to cause her to exhale through her nostrils, “Yeah she swings by after missions sometimes to get…well…a ‘head count’ she says but part of me thinks she cares for the people here. Well, one would like to think that anyways. Prickly woman she is.” she nodded to confirm, “Typically. Those who run it will peek their heads in or friends. Oh! Speaking of which, Nijah was also here she said for me to let you know that she’ll expect a debriefing once you and Hakan are able. A few days I suspect to allow you both time to heal but not too long so things are still fresh within your mind.”

He nodded, or tried to, doing the best he could manage given his position. “Makes sense. And if I’m expected to be discharged tomorrow, then I suppose it will depend on if she wants to speak to both of us at the same time or individually, but that’s a question for Nijah. I’ll stop by her office tomorrow after I’ve been discharged and ask what she would prefer.” He tilted his head at the exhale, “Are you alright, Miss Himaa?”

Khair hummed and ticked her gaze to the ceiling a moment trying to recall, “She said ‘they’ so I assume she means the both of you.”

Ricard gave another quick nod, or a type of nod, giving the position of his head against the pillow. “Then I’ll have to check on Belgrave’s status before I leave the clinic tomorrow and set up a time to meet with Nijah to debrief from there. No need to to delay. As you said, memories are fickle and best to have the conversation while the details are still fresh.” She pulled the curtain to expose the room for a brief moment as she stepped semi-out of the threshold, “Me? I’m fine, why?”

He turned his head to look at her, reaching up and running a finger over his injured ear. She was right, slightly pointed, but not nearly enough to be noticeable, she’d done an excellent job of repairing it, not that he’d expected anything less after the way that his stitches had healed. “That exhale a moment ago seemed…agitated seems too strong of a word, but it as though there was something fueling it.” He let his had drop back to the bed before offering a tired smile. “Or perhaps the pain medication and the exhaustion is finally catching up to me and I’m reading too much into what could have been a perfectly normal breath from the individual who has had to spend their evening patching me up. Both are equally possible.”

“Stop touching your healing wounds else you’ll make them infected.” she blinked and merely tilted her head, “Agitated? Sir with all respect I don’t think you know me well enough. But no, I’m not agitated. I’m nothing at all currently aside from coming off that need to draw focus; healing you and all.” she looked him over, “See, you don’t need my answers, you jump to your conclusions all on your own.” Khair simply smiled and bowed her head, “If there is nothing else you require currently I’ll take this time to get your items together and get your paperwork updated.”

Ricard blinked, looking a bit like a scolded child before chuckling. He hadn’t been about to reach for his ear again, not at all. “Noted, no more touching the ear, or any of the other patched up locations.” He fought back a yawn, turning his head on the pillow to look over towards her. “I do have a tendency to jump to conclusions, you’re not wrong…but I still ask the questions - it never hurts to hear the answers from the person themselves. Conclusions are one thing, confirmations another.” He offered her a tired grin. “I won’t keep you from your work any longer, even if that work is paperwork. And once again, since you did spend the evening patching me up…again, thank you.”

“Your very welcome.” Khair nodded her head once more, this time with thanks as she slowly slide the curtain back across and left Ricard to catch whatever rest he could. Collab writing with: @ricard-blythe-ffxiv

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dawn-aethwyn · 3 years ago

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Survival

The rocking and jolting of the ship helped. They went full-bore to outrun the storm that fell upon Thavnair. Once they were free and clear of it, the smooth sailing threatened to lull him into unconsciousness. It was all he could do to stay awake through the last leg of the journey back to the Company house; by the time they arrived he could feel himself hanging by the end of his rope.

While the Skydancer had a medic with basic training on board, they weren’t experienced enough nor had the proper facilities to do more than keep a wounded person stable. Much as it irked, Hakan couldn’t deny the state he was qualified as more than just a little banged up; the normally ironclad control he had upon his aether wouldn’t be so tenuous if he weren’t and heat wouldn’t be rolling off him in waves as his temperature continued to climb.

Word had already been that the healers would be needed. Hakan could only wonder through his exhaustion just which one he’d end up saddled with-- though his wondering quickly drew to a close.

Steady hands from one of the crew had pulled him to his feet, but that was the most he’d allow. Stubborn and prideful, that’s what he was. Jaw clenching, he moved through the belly of the ship to the ramp leading out and into the bay, then into the building itself. He finally wound his way towards the small medical ward that had been set up.

“Alright! On the bed! Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. Careful, careful.” Dawn assisted them in sitting him down and then moving to lay him on his back. She pulled out an injector she seemed to have prepared. “A little sting on three. One-two.” Clack. A quick pinching feeling nipped at his neck. Heh. He thought he was lightheaded before.

Hakan jerked his to one side after the needle withdrew, a scowl slashing across his face as he bit back a curse. “Ffff–” He tried to focus his eyes on the lights in the infirmary but his grasp on reality was fading fast. And though he could make out some words still, staying cognizant had been made that much more difficult.

“I was told he was stable, this is not stable,” Dawn hissed.

Hakan may have argued if he’d had the strength. He was still alive, wasn’t he?

She made quick work with shears through his clothes listening to the rushed explanation: He had a bullet wound through the shoulder, both entry and exit wound were patched up. She left him enough dignity to keep himself partly clothed but his top and leggings were definitely ruined as she examined quickly for damage aside from the hurriedly bandaged injuries.

“Okay, help me on his side.” A quick but thorough evaluation here was key so she could prioritize treatment. She continued to listen about the two apparent bullets to his back. Those kinds of wounds were painful to deal with-- for both healer and victim; she couldn’t give a quick and potent healing spell or potion because they might simply heal over the projectile and cause deadly infections or lead poisoning. Or she might simply miss crucial details and try to mend unseen trauma incorrectly.

The room began to spin as Hakan was turned, the lights more bleary yet brighter at the same time; he was too dazed to react to anything. Perhaps both a source of discomfort but also a blessing: he was starting to feel the pain dull further. It didn’t disappear, but everything felt just a bit more numb and removed from reality; as if he was experiencing someone else’s pain. A passenger in his own body.

“Several contusions…” fingers along his ribs, pressing in to feel for breaks as she examined.

“Okay,” Dawn said, impressed with the medic’s bandaging she felt with her hands. She squinted and looked deeper with her aether-adjusted eyes, “We have to remove the projectiles and clean the puncture out, I don’t see exit wounds from the front.” Practiced hands expediently removed bandages, deftly handled a scalpel, dug deep with forceps, all while directing the staff to help clean the blood and then disinfecting the puncture rather abrasively for thorough measure before stitching it shut. For now she’d rely on traditional healing as a precaution and in hopes to avoid infection or poisoning; Esuna spells and conjury magicks didn’t fix everything. Time was of the essence and she still had at least one more to extract and secure.

Lucky for him, one projectile was stopped in the midst of dense muscle and the other was stopped by bone, causing a closed fracture. After they finished dressing the recently treated wounds, the doctor opened and reinspected the shoulder, cleaning and repacking both sides of the puncture. She opened his fluttering and straining eyelids to observe his pupils and…feverish skin, before taking his pulse. “He needs blood and his aether is weakening. You see to the first and I’ll take care of the latter.”

Unfortunately there were more needles and ‘pinching’ to be had in his ‘good’ arm; Dawn noticed his augment appeared undamaged which was a blessing. One less thing to worry about. What was of concern was the idea of trying to give him more blood on the arm with the compromised shoulder but she’d see how it’d take before she decided on a different course of action.

She brought a gloved hand out above him as her other clenched her necklace. Dawn had tried to avoid doing this where she could but converting her own life force to aether to heal him and restore his waning aetheric presence was the best thing she could think to do. He was Nijah’s friend; she couldn’t bear to think of letting her feel hurt or betrayed because of her own inaction.

By then, Hakan’s grasp on aether had slipped away along with the last vestiges of his consciousness. While Dawn may have thought it had been weakening, the truth was anything but. He’d been trying to keep it restrained to the best of his ability, injured and laid up on the table as he was, but that was no longer possible.

Dawn’s memory sparked, her attention drew to how he appeared in her aethersight moons ago, back when they’d first met, and now she’d be confronted with the same sight again; upon closer inspection it dawned on her-- Hakan was a veritable aetheric battery, one aspected towards fire and that had apparently been super-charged to the point of excess. That excess radiated outwards from the Dalmascan, permeating the room and saturating the air to the point the very temperature began to slowly and steadily climb.

‘This is good, I can use this.’ she thought to herself. Here she was ready to slip back into old habits of shortening her own lifespan to fix the problem but a solution laid right in front of her. Clearly this dense and massive flux of aether was no longer tenable by an injured and unconscious Hakan. She would be doing him a favor, right? She bit her lip considering the solution. Dawn did her best to stem the desire for so long yet here was the perfect excuse. She’d be helping a friend! What’s wrong with taking their aether at this point? He’d die otherwise, and who knows who else would be hurt, right? Her unique gift to convert life force into aether ran both ways, and now she could at least make up for part of the decades she shaved off of her own life healing or protecting others. Two birds with one stone and all.

Voices whispered in the periphery of her mind. Temptations creeped into the edges of her consciousness as a hungry look betrayed her expression. She took a glove off and touched his chest with her bare hand as her other hand hovered over, she dual-casted- a potent healing incantation while voraciously draining and consuming the aether at the same time. Practiced and flowery words beseeching the elements and focusing the arcane escaped her lips as she actually stabilized the man with mending and draining. After what seemed like a short instance of eternity she was comfortable enough to allow the channeling spells to drift to a finish; or at least she thought.

The White Mage was still draining his aether and couldn’t find the desire to stop.

Hakan's skin burned with an unnatural heat beneath Dawn's hand, and though it gave the impression that prolonged contact might cause true harm there was something about the situation that prevented that and any discomfort what might have been present from unwarranted touch otherwise. It was if the aether had an awareness and knew harm wasn't the healer’s intent.

Such was the potency of the aether that even without her aethersight, threads of gold and crimson manifested in the air and began to coil around her wrist the moment she latched onto it to draw upon the power. As she began to cast the threads continued to climb, winding and wrapping about her forearm-- the spells themselves amplified.

And still the potency and vastness of the aether seemed undiminished. But as each spell ended, the healing finished, Dawn continued to feed. The nature of the aether abruptly shifted, the coils around her hand, her arm, flared and became uncomfortable in warning while power began to gather as if in preparation...

Undaunted, unflinching, the hunger began to take over. Caution, careful analysis, safety-- these would be simple tenets she typically relied on in treatment but something else drove her: Selfishness, conceit, desire. Faced against an endless font, an unending hunger unraveled within her. She would dare to see what the dark chasm of void tempting her would do against the overwhelming flow. As surely as her arm strained against the unsustainable amount of aether, she would reconvert that energy and reinforce her arm, healing and regenerating as quickly as damage took root.

However quick Dawn was to strengthen herself and repair the damage that came, there was no dulling the sensation of flesh being burned nor nerve endings imploding; Pain was pain, it was inescapable.

The aetheric coils about her arm snapped taut, seared into her skin, and held her in place– At least until the concentration of aether that had been gathering finally reached critical mass. Then it struck, brilliant coronal arcs forming and viciously lashing out at her amidst a blinding flash to cause as much harm as possible to drive her off.

The medic assisting her fell to their hind and quickly backed off, hands covering their mouth for a second before trying to split off to safety, reporting this to whoever they could while fleeing to preserve their own life.

Most creatures had three simple responses in the face of a threatening encounter: Fight, flight, or freeze. While Dawn’s response may normally have defaulted to the latter, a different aspect of her seemed to surface and saw the challenge, rising up to meet it out of sheer hubris and curiosity: What would happen if an unstoppable force was met with an immovable object? The age-old question-- perhaps there’d be an answer here. Grit teeth gave way to a sinister smile, burnt flesh healed over and over. The selfsame energies that shunted off Hakan, she used to heal.

The temperature spiked again; glass objects in the room gave off that creaking-whining noise that came before they shattered. The sheets beneath Hakan, his clothes that still remained, all began to adopt glowing ember-like patches across them.

But the glass never shattered, the fabrics never truly caught fire. Dawn’s hand twitched and was pulled away against her will.

“That’s enough of that.” The smell of stale cigarettes and booze filled her nostrils. She saw the rude man’s hand intrusively keeping her wrist away from Hakan. “What are you trying to do? Are you a healer, or a vulture?” he accused in an attempt to bring her to her senses.

Dawn backed off, startled. She saw Hadriel’s hand bare and burnt, the bandages usually covering them rent by flame. Whatever eventuality the flames gave she saw reflected in her minds eye-- they were prevented by his shattering grasp. What surprised her wasn’t the fact that he seemed unphased by embers but rather the sheer amount of burn scars that had been marred onto his hand. As if awakening from a deep slumber, she became keenly aware of her own actions until this point and seemed panicked, her breath and pulse quickening while her anxiety spiked. Shame and fear overcame her in equal measure and he could tell from her expression she wasn’t fully in control.

A quick sigh came from him, “Good thing Nijah wasn’t around to see this.” he spoke, hoping to drive fear further into her, perhaps motivating her to maintain a modicum of control the next time. His eye looked to see an unconscious but relatively healthy Hakan, he took her from the room to clear up this mess with her and the medic. Perhaps at least get on the same page with whatever story he decided to tell, as to not instill a fear of Dawn or Hakan in the others.

Another attendant was assigned to tend to Hakan in the meanwhile for further evaluation and treatment. Fortunately or unfortunately, when the man woke he’d have no recollection of just what had transpired. The only thing he’d know was that he’d be stuck up in an infirmary, a place he’d have no intention of staying in for longer than absolutely necessary; Doctors orders be damned.

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