faderift | [open] general hospital: envy edition

Shortly this shitshow, a heavily bleeding Barrow huffs and puffs his way into the infirmary with a colleague under each arm. He has the wherewithal to deposit them both across one mattress before he has to catch himself on the bedframe with a wince, clutching at the ugly laceration on his hcest.

"Anyone here," he calls faintly, glancing back over his shoulder to see the veritable trail of blood that has followed him through the building from the smithy. Just as well.

Since the first call for people acting strange, Tav has decidedly attempted to Stay Out of It. What can he do with escorts following him around, reminding him of the danger he poses to all he comes across?

Heal, he remembers, far too deep into this mess. So, he calls the two guards to allow him into the Infirmary to heed the call of the injured. While he's not sure how many injuries he'll be able to care for before the exhaustion takes over, Tav will do his damnedest to work his hardest.

To remind himself he is more than a monster.

He barely beats Barrow to the Infirmary and is in the process of setting up a bed when the man enters.

"Tav," he calls out, smoothing the sheets and gesturing for Barrow to join him. "Lie down and I'll be using magic to close up the most serious of you injuries first."

More because he's only seen his magic in action when it came to his own blisters and it wasn't strong to completely seal those. But perhaps he hadn't used the strongest form of his healing magic at that point.

The voice is familiar, but not in a way that Barrow is interested in recalling at the moment. He shakes his head, gesturing toward his two semi-fallen comrades.

"'s bleeding like a bitch but won't kill me," he mutters. "That one hit his head and probably worse," he explains, gesturing to Cedric, and then to Vanya: "that's one of the missing folks, Maker only fucking knows how bad he's off."

"I'll heal them in a moment," Tav murmurs as he moves in closer to Barrow; bleeding is easier to treat than head wounds and the mysterious wounds.

He wiggles his fingers, drawing forth on what he knows is a limited font of healing magics, turquioise light dancing along his hands. Glancing up at Barrow, he reaches for the injured man's chest.

"Here we go," he prompts before he murmurs the incantation, "Vis medicatrix!"

The wound will mostly knit shut, bit by bit under Tav's hands until they begin to shake. A scab will most certainly be left behind as the elf pulls back, catching his breath.

Edited 2024-03-27 03:03 (UTC)

With an intake of breath as though to argue, Barrow is already too late to stop the elf from touching his chest, healing it; and though he can't deny that it's accompanied by relief (deeper than he thought-- he's not going to die again, really really), when he sees that the healer is winded, the tension returns to his brow.

"All right," he says gruffly, "now them." His tone is uncharacteristically brusque; if it turns out the newcomer's magic is spent from that, they're going to be having Words.

"Now them," Tav replies, still out of breath as he moves to the closest of the two: Cedric. A head wound will far be more difficult to pin point the exact place to start the healing. He can only guess by any sources of blood and if no blood, then beginning around the temples.

His hands already shake from the effort of healing Barrow when Tav searches for an obvious place to start.

"Did you see where he was hit?" he asks, even as he calls forth on the font of healing magic once more.

Barrow shuffles to the nearest unoccupied cot and sinks onto it, watching Tav carefully. He shakes his head; he was a bit preoccupied at the time.

Cedric's scalp is bleeding, and he's got a few nasty bruises, but is otherwise mainly concussed.

Edited (deets from k2) 2024-03-27 17:40 (UTC)

Tav examines Cedric’s head and finds a few superficial cuts, but the bruising seems to be where he should focus his work. He swallows, unsure how deep his magic will reach deep enough to bring Cedric to awareness, but here he goes.

He reaches deep inside himself, positions his hands along the bruising and murmurs again, “Vis medicatrix!”

Turquiose light spills from his hands, down along Cedric’s scalp and then enters the skin, doing what limited knitting it can. It searches out any damage to the brain itself, but soon enough, Tav has to withdraw as sweat drips down his forehead and the beginnings of dizziness begin to take hold.

He doesn’t wait to see if Cedric wakes up, or to be directed to his third patient. Tav doesn’t want to lose what magic he has left waiting around.

Beginning to relax a little, Barrow rests his elbows down on his thighs and continues to watch, his gaze flitting to the still and unconscious Vanya. The adrenaline is beginning to leave him, exhaustion taking over.

Tav moves over to Vanya and struggles to find just one place to start. He supposes one hand on Vanya’s chest and one on his head will have to be enough in this moment. He only has so much magic left, the font inside him feeling so empty, so depleted.

So, he places one hand on Vanya’s chest and another on his head before reaching down into himself for his magic. He hopes there’s enough, perhaps just enough, bur enough all the same.

“Vis medicatrix!” he says one final time as turquoise light spills from his hands and down into Vanya.

Tav pushes the last of his magics into Vanya, imagines it spreading into every last finger, every last hair. He pushes until vision becomes spots and then continues past that warning. He pushes until his legs give out and physically drop him to the floor, panting and sweating.

“Hope… Hopefully that helps,” Tav is approaching a blackout, so he props himself against the wall and waits for either himself to go down or his patients to wake up.

If nothing else, neither erstwhile Templar is in imminent danger of death or advanced brain damage, which means the operation was a success.

"Good," Barrow sighs, hefting to his feet once more as he goes to pull the lighter of the two-- Cedric-- by the arm around his shoulders, so he can help him to his own cot.

"Thanks," he barely remembers to add, offering a slightly apologetic look toward Tav as he lays the younger man down and adjusts his positioning over the mattress, turning back to go do the same for Vanya.

"You ought to pace yourself. I'm certain we'll not be the last."

Tav shrugs non-committally, leaning against a shelf as the spots in his vision become gaping holes and all the deep breathing doesn’t seem to help. At least he isn’t entirely monster if he can heal others.

He isn’t what his father made him; he isn’t just a monster.

Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

“I’ll do what I can,” he replies, voice dropping in and out as he works to stay awake.

Having finished with Vanya, Barrow sinks back down into a chair near the cot, finally succumbing to his own exhaustion. He's got something else he wants to say formulating, but it's lost when sleep overtakes him instead, cheek on hand.

Tav isn’t far behind Barrow as he leans his head against a joint in the wall and his exhaustion finally claims him as well.

Strange has been running back and forth across the island (truly, he has never missed his portalling so much as now), and when the message came, he’d had to hurry up from the houseboat and return to the Gallows proper. So he arrives too late to help, but when he pokes his head into the infirmary, he finds—

The immediate situation already taken care of, two unconscious patients in the beds, Tav asleep sitting on the floor, Barrow asleep in a chair. He makes a noise, a surprised little huh. He stands there for a moment, surveying the tableau; before quietly retrieving two spare blankets from a cupboard, draping them over the elf and the Master of Works, and then withdrawing to give them some rest.

[open] general hospital: envy edition

Smithy Squad

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time for a team nap

Re: time for a team nap

a driveby