legionworld | (no subject)

Who| Marjara and YOU.
What| Avoiding these time ripple shenanigans, thank you very much. She's had enough tampering with time for one lifetime. So she's camping this one out. Feel free to take refuge in the forest for a while.
Where| Marjara's Biome
When| During the Time Ripple event.

Marjara hadn't seen magic work this way in quite some time, not since the Magister Alexius decided to tamper with time and thrust her into an alternate future. What a horrifying glimpse of how things could be that had been. She had understandably no desire to be wrapped up in time-bending yet again. It didn't seem to be doing anyone the same amount of harm as ripping open time's fabric seemed to have done before, anyway.

So here she was, retiring to her little scrap of the station, fashioned into the likeness of the woods she had grown up in. Lush green forests stood tall, nearly blocking the sunlight with their broad canopy save in a few small clearings. Elven ruins stood bleached and bare, half-buried and crumbling, but they were such a facet of even her subconscious memory of these places she was almost glad to see them.

And a warm campire had been set up in the embrace of one of these ruins. Against a half-collapsed stone wall a tent stood, as well as a table for gathering ingredients to brew potions. The lap of luxury and technology it wasn't, but...

Well. She slept better at night, anyway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The less painful way would require injections. Amélie did not like needles, nor was she willing to go to Medical. Sure, they could handle this wound a lot better than her, but it would mean letting doctors poke and prod at her along with having to explain how she'd gotten shot and by who. No, this was the best solution at hand.

"Not unless she's provoked or defending herself," Amélie replied as she took the leather from Marjara. "I provoked her by tailing her. I dodged the majority of the gunfire, but SMGs have quite a spray at mid-range." She moved to the edge of the pond, finding a good place where she could enter the water with relative ease. "She's smart and resourceful. The longer this time effect remains, the less trouble she will get into. The less paranoid she will be. You would know her as the Legionnaire named Azucar."

Her eyes moved from the water to Marjara. "I am going to be incapacitated for... a bit. Please stay, make sure I do not accidentally drown myself." And then, without hesitation, she put the leather between her teeth and slipped into the pond.

As soon as the water hit her wound, submerging it, Amélie bit down hard on the leather as she half-swallowed the wail of pain the sprung from within her whether she liked it or not. Eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back, she whimpered in pain as one hand shakily grabbed for a rock near the bank to anchor herself to and the other went to the torn flesh of her thigh. Growls and groans mixed with her whimpers, the muscles of her shoulders and torso flexing frequently as spikes of red hot pain coursed up her leg and through her body as she scrubbed at the dried blood and mangled skin, freeing it from the clotting and letting the water cleanse the sweat and grime from the wound. With it came fresh blood to flush as much of the impurities as she could from it.

Amélie would apply an antiseptic back at camp when she dressed the wound, but for now this was best, if incredibly painful. The water around her leg turned a dark color as both flakes of dried blood and the thick ruddy fresh blood rose to the surface, tears from the physical pain streaking from the corner of her eyes as she worked that wound. Just a bit longer...

It was a difficult thing to watch. Not for the last time, she wished she'd had any talent at all for healing magic, and what little she knew wouldn't be of much help to her now. Thought she might be able to offer her some relief when it was all over.

She'd stay, despite that. Amélie would need the hand up and out, perhaps a shoulder to lean on, on the way back to camp. At the very least, she'd need help traversing the forest with her leg likely to be paining her something very terrible.

One went almost out of impulse to her left side, as if to grasp something no longer there, before falling away again.

Finally letting her hand drift to the side, arm floating on the water, Amélie drew in measured breaths and quelled her expression of pain to muffled whimpers. She stayed like that until the blinding whiteness in her vision dissipated and she could begin to think beyond the pain. Muscles began to relax a little as cognizant thought and logic took over once again, allowing her to open her eyes.

It took her a moment to remember where she was, head lolling to one side to take in the elf nearby. She went to speak but paused to take the leather from her mouth and work her still jaw a moment before she could manage words, voice a bit hoarse.

"My apologies for that. I do not know how long I was out. Will you toss my clothing into the water? They need washed." And Amélie needed a few more moments before she put any weight on her leg.

"You're not seriously apologizing for this, are you?"

Marjara's eyes narrowed briefly, before she reached for the other woman's clothing and tossed them in her direction, slipping closer to the water's edge in the process. "I have something that will help the pain, when you're ready to come out."

"Oui. I demanded that you essentially do nothing. I am not blind to your compassion, Marjara." Shifting stiffly, Amélie snagged the clothing and dunked them in the water. "You have a good heart."

The top didn't need much, but the pants had soaked up a fair amount of blood. Methodically, she dirtied the water even more with the remnants of her blood. "Is it potent? Otherwise, it may be wasted on me and better saved for someone normal."

"Potent enough. It's what I used to keep the pain at bay when I still had the Anchor attached to it," she replies grimly, fishing for the vial before holding it up between two fingers.

"The taste isn't the greatest, but it makes things a little more tolerable. And it's not a waste if it's even a little useful."

"I am sure I have had worse," Amélie replied, looking over her shoulder at the elf. That was when she realized there were tears on her face. Making a disgusted sound in the back of her throat, she paused in cleaning her clothes to splash water onto her face, rubbing the tear tracks away. Such weakness she had displayed...

"I will gladly accept it."