open

[inkindled]

WHO: Matthias, Nikos, Salvio (tbd if Doki, Val, and Darras will get open stuff. how did I get all of these characters) + YOU
WHAT: just open stuff, man
WHEN: NOW
WHERE: various
NOTES: tiny bit of self-harm but it's so small and it gets fixed so fast

Comments

[galvanising]

It's Kirkwall [ Nell shrugs. ] But maybe the flower balances out the blood.

So you're thinking healing, now? I'll be no help with that, I'm afraid. How'd the spirit blade come along while I was away?

[inkindled]

[That was a joke. Nell Voss made a joke at him. Pleased to have been included, Matthias' ears go pink, and he sits up a bit taller.]

Yeah, I dunno that I'll be any good at it either. I had a bit from the war and all. Figured it might be useful to see how I did with what I knew before and start from there.

[Nervous and eager, he picks up the rose stem again so he can twirl it between his fingers.]

I can show you. The spirit blade? If you like.

[galvanising]

Can't hurt to try, [ she shrugs ] It'd be nice to be able to put myself back together occasionally instead of having to hope Isaac's around to stick my arms back on.

[ At his offer, she smiles quick, pleased. ]

Already? Yeah, come on. Let's see it.

[inkindled]

[Pleased, too, Matthias chucks the stem aside immediately and gets to his feet. He wipes his hand on his shirt one last time, clearing it of any lingering blood.]

I dunno how good it'll be. But I have been working at it.

[Wait, though.]

You didn't really lose your arms, did you?

[galvanising]

No, they can't really stick them back on if you do. I got a bit of a stern warning about that. Just got mangled a few times. Come on then,

[ she claps attached hands together ] let's see how it's coming.

[inkindled]

Oh, right. Yeah. 'Course.

[Now that she's said it, it makes sense. If an arm popped off, how would you fix all the fiddly little bits inside? Tendons and all. It wouldn't work.

Oh, wait, he's meant to be doing something--]

Er, yeah. Right. I'll--

[He fumbles and finds the empty sword hilt. It looks silly when he hefts it in his hand, like he's a child playing pretend. Only even as a child he had sticks to use. But this is better, if he can make it work--focusing, Matthias narrows his eyes and sets his jaw, and as he thinks, magic springs to life in him, a fire through his veins that does not burn.

The shape of the blade is ghostly, a wavering line. Its bulk makes up for it--broad, mean--and its glow has this ethereal quality, with maybe--maybe--a duller glow at its center, a flash of lava beneath ice.

The shape holds for one second, two, three. Then it dissipates, dashed away, and Matthias lets out a breath, disappointed.]

Sorry--I can do better.