hadriel | [Text] [filtered from Yusuke, Caedra, and Akira]

Ianchus Cceeepehs.
I did falll but I doI THINk I need the clinic. THere's a bit more to it.
I'm under the Outcropping with the big tree. Thrrs a large white pillar formation a ways away. DOes that help?

[Harlan is not sure how much of that name is typos? Gonna just avoid repeating it back for the moment.]

ok hang tight. omw.

[HH to the rescue and shit. Luckily these islands aren't too big and between Ianchus's description and Harlan having familiarized himself with most of the general landscape already, he's able to find the spot relatively quickly. He doesn't know what Ianchus looks like, but it's probably safe to assume there aren't a lot of busted up people chillin' at the bottom of cliffs. Harlan teleports on down.]

Hey. [But now that he's up close and personal, it's immediately clear that this wasn't a fall. Not entirely anyway, which he supposes Ianchus didn't actually lie about. The guy's got a smattering of slashes along his body, and Harlan is no expert, but it looks like a necrotic injury to him.]

A bit more to it, huh?

[Ianchus is lying on his back, his phone resting on his chest, only occasionally being tipped up so he can open his eyes and write a response. He looks rather exhausted and bruised up. At hearing the voice he cracks them open again, giving Harlan a wry smirk.]

Ah, and here's the cavalry.

[Harlan kneels down next to him to get a better look at the injuries. For a brief moment, he regrets getting involved, but he shakes it off. Having to touch a stranger is a dumb reason to bail out of helping someone.

But before he does any healing, he wants to know what he's working with. And since Ianchus keeps ducking his question, he may as well ask outright.]

This isn't from a fall. [He points to the slash marks along Ianchus's torso.] It looks like another person did that. What happened?

[Ianchus gives him a look, one that would likely have more impact if his face wasn't so pale and drawn. Really; can't a man get help for his injuries in peace, without getting the third degree over how and why?

Ah, still, he's learned much better than to be ungrateful for help. So he swallows any retort he may have, and offers an unhelpful response, instead:]

I got into a little scuffle. And then tripped.

[Harlan just sighs. Why you gotta be like this, man?

Whatever. It's not like Harlan is about to leave this guy to bleed out just because he's being obtuse. It's probably best if Harlan doesn't get involved in whatever happened here, anyway.]

Fine, suit yourself. My healing isn't the best. I'll clean up the necrotic shit, but that's about all I can do. The clinic can help with the rest. Okay?

Of course. Ah, and will you be able to help me to the clinic? I don't quite think I can walk.

[He's struggling to pull at the clasps of his shirt, grimacing--at the very least, he can help make the wounds more accessible, if he's going to give this man a hard time.]

[You're a pal, Ianchus, even if it's not necessary.]

You can leave that on. [He gestures to the shirt.] I have to touch you, but it doesn't have to be skin on skin.

[Thankfully.]

I can teleport. No walking required. The healing's gonna be a bit uncomfortable, though. You ready?

[Okay, he's a little relieved that he doesn't have to fiddle with the clasps anymore--why did he choose such secure clasps, anyways? It isn't as if he's the type obsessed with keeping his clothes on, after all. He does look up at Harlan curiously, though, with some amusement. Teleportation and healing without tools? It sounds fantastical. (And of course, summoning a blade out of thin air to stab and rot him is just as fantastical)]

I suppose I am.

[Harlan is used to the reaction to his magic at this point. It's bizarre to him that this is such a mythical thing for everyone, meanwhile it's all he's ever known. He's had to live without his magic exactly twice, and he was a miserable mess both times. How do nonmagical people get by?

Anyway.]

Alright. Hold still.

[He touches his fingertips to Ianchus's arm. It'd be slightly easier if he was willing to get more handsy, but he isn't, so he puts a little more oomph into the spell than would otherwise be necessary.

He wasn't lying—the sensation isn't painful but it isn't pleasant, either. It feels a bit like a numb limb regaining blood flow, the skin around Ianchus's wound suddenly remembering itself and shaking off the decay. Harlan focuses the magic there, since it's the worst of the injuries and it's not something they'll be able to fix at the clinic.

After about a minute, Harlan pulls away, the spell having run its course. The wound isn't fully healed, but it's been stabilized, and the necrotic flesh is no longer dead.]

That should hold you over.

[He makes a soft noise, and the second time around Harlan would probably be able to tell it's a giggle--nervous, yes, and more a reflex than anything, but it's a giggle nonetheless. It's certainly an odd feeling, and he reaches up with aching fingers to feel the wound.]

Impressive. How much of my soul would it cost to fix the one on my stomach, as well?

It's free. This is the magical equivalent of a band-aid. Don't get too excited.

[He lightly touches Ianchus's arm again, and the wound in his stomach begins to knit itself back together just like the first one. Harlan's analogy is accurate, though. Aside from the lack of necrotic tissue, the injury doesn't look much better when he pulls away.]

That's as much as I can do for you. Are you ready to head to the clinic?

[Text] [filtered from Yusuke, Caedra, and Akira]

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