Video ❖ 1
[The sound of choking and spitting is heard before the screen displays a blur of fuchsia and red. It's the red that lingers, however, as a hand unconsciously touches the screen, leaving behind three streaks of blood before it then presses on an open wound. To anyone familiar with firearms, it will probably be obvious that she has been shot several
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Eight. So she needs to find the path of eight wounds, small paths that inflicted terrible damage. Again, it's not the first, or likely the last, time she would do something like this. She nods to Schneizel, takes a step back, and wills herself to take on her tree form. Her upheld arms become rippling branches; her firmly planted feet become roots. All around her, her sense of what is natural and what is made by hand sharpens.
The wounds ripping through Cornelia throb red and painful against her aware of the woman's form. That is what she needs to heal.
Unlike other forms of healing, a druid's magic will help re-create lost blood; it speeds up the natural process of healing, aids and gently guides the body rather than forces the wounds to heal. Her 'arms' are surrounded with gentle green light, which with a flash of brilliant emerald, swirls around Cornelia and eases her pain, slows the hurt, and begins to repair her body.]
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Schneizel!
[ She had recognized the white long before she drew that close. That Schneizel himself should show, and without his aide was, is a surprise, but it isn't one she lets show on her face as she approaches. The magical tree is by-far more likely to evoke a clear, visible reaction than this. The questions running through her mind only grow as she steps forward. This scene... makes her pause in her tracks no more than three steps following her halt.
This is -- ]
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Her attention is however overtaken by, first, his words and then by the transformation that takes place before her eyes. Cornelia visibly shrinks, as if she means to escape. She watches with obvious astonishment as branches form and roots emerge. As the glow of light begins to surround her, the prickle of something foreign and unnatural takes hold of her limbs before searing her body with insurmountable pain.
Cornelia throws her head back, her mouth widening in an agonized cry of surprise. Her lashes flutter open as eyes dilate and she lets out a barely contained scream. She tries to let go of Schneizel's hand, but his hold is stronger than expected and her grip tightens instead, squeezing around his palm with all her might.
If she could talk, she would tell the thing to stop whatever it was doing. It feels like each wound is being burned permanently into her skin like a tattoo, only it rips through every layer of her body, branding her straight down to her bones. Another cry and she squeezes her eyes shut, biting down hard on her lip. Between the iron taste of blood that has already filled her throat and the tortured pain caused by the creature, she can hardly tell that her teeth are drawing more blood.
She does, however, manage to get out one word.]
SCHNEIZ...EL!!!
[Unfortunately, she's so afflicted by spasms that she doesn't notice the newcomer just yet.]
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He looks up at a familiar sound, has placed the voice before he sees Valeria there, suited and ready as always. Usually he'd smile to see her, but this time, hecan but spare her a glance before his sister cries out. She's biting her lip too hard, and it occurs to him that he should have put something between her teeth, a belt, a glove, but hindsight is twenty-twenty and even Schneizel cannot prepare for anything.
And he cannot prepare for the shriek of his own name on Cornelia's bloody lips, so unlike anything he's heard from her. His name has always come softly, fondly, warmly, always, but this - this -
Her voice is as wracked as her body, and there's anger, there's despair on that yell. It's a howl of pain more than anything else, and that it would be to him has him tugging her bloodsoaked hand against his chest. It's a prayer, and it's a condemnation, all in one.
(But he will never be the god he had to be, not in her eyes.)
His expression is unseen, hidden when he lowers his head, his eyes, focuses on a glove, fuschia, stained vermillion.
(Oh, that it would come to this.)
He'd anticipated the move he'd need to make regarding this piece, his beloved sister.
He had not anticipated being there for the aftermath.]
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The healing must be agonizing for her, but Myhrta perseveres. She can't risk using a weaker and more gentle spell until the worst of the wounds are dealt with.
So she spins another spell and wraps Cornelia in its emerald light, her leaves and branches quivering at the screams of pain. As quickly as she can, she nulls that spell, stretches her branches more, and summons the mist of tranquility.
It licks against everyone within the radius of the spell, gently soothing and coaxing. Her hope is to lull Cornelia's pain and shock enough to move her.
The mist continues to gently press against all gathered, softly soothing. When she can't keep it up any longer, she lowers her 'arms' and relaxes her trunk. A blink, and she returns to her normal form.]
That should be enough. I need somewhere more sterile before I try to extract the bullets.
[She bows her head to Cornelia.]
I am sorry for the pain caused, my lady.
[And now she turns to Schneizel, Val dismissed at the moment as she does not pertain to the patient.]
She may need carried.
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Slowly, as if the very air around her has changed and the storm has receded, her body begins to relax. The complex circuitry of gun wounds no longer blaze with interminable agony and she can stand to open her eyes. When she does, she finds herself staring up at him, his eyes a perfect shade of her own. The light still curls around them, an impending circle of trembling flames, but it carries with it a soothing force that calms her senses, immersing her in its lulling embrace.
When it is over, she struggles to pull away from him as the creature speaks again. Glancing up at it, her voice comes out clear, only slightly deeper and hoarse from her screams.]
I am fully capable of walking.
[The statement isn't directed at anyone in particular, but it is so matter-of-fact that few would dare to argue with it. Although she can scarcely feel the bitter sting of bullets in her body, it is her pride that has been wounded now, clouted by ignorance. How could he let her body be manipulated by this... thing? And...
Her thoughts are temporarily put on hold as a sudden wave of dizziness washes over her. She winces, exhaustion starting to overtake her as the questions all resurface in her mind, and she lays her head slightly against his chest, telling herself that it will only be for a moment. Yes. Only a few so that she can get her bearings.]
[ooc: sorry for posting out of order. i'm flying back home today and won't be around this evening. i hope that's okay. if not, i can just delete. :D]
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He rises, white fabric clinging to his legs for a moment, damp as it is. His arms are red past the elbow already, but he does not balk at holding her. Pale eyes turned to Myhrta.]
The town hall, I take it.
[Then to Valeria - his head dips in a brief nod. Perhaps thanks, if only for her quick appearance - her presence is appreciated, and he isn't about to make that unknown, even under duress. In fact, he's remarkably calm and corrected as he begins to walk briskly back down the path, Cornelia's head cradled lightly where his shoulder slopes to his chest. He does not address her - that will be better waiting until she is rested, and safe. Even if the immediate threat of her death has been neutralized, even if she's stable now, there is work yet to be done to ensure her welfare.
And that's something he means to do, despite how she ended up like this.
It was, after all, never his intent for her to die.]
[ooc: given the go ahead by Kana to go here <3]
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