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WHO: Cassian and Sanzo in one, Cassian and Amberdrake in another
WHAT: DINNER TIME and A brief material run
WHEN: Shortly after Christmas, before the shops in Fayren close.
WHERE: Everglade and Fayren
WARNINGS: Gore, violence, mentions of cannibalism

4 SANZO
He'd gone too long. He knew he'd over extended himself, the gift he got from Tannusen could only last so long. Wheezing, stiff, the faint sound of flutes beginning to sound in the back of his mind, tonight had to be the night. He wasn't going to risk it all again, he couldn't. He couldn't keep relying on someone else here to patch him up every time he fell into shit.

He was a grown man. He could take care of this.

As it had been for two thousand years, the hunt was on. As it had been for two thousand years, the iron dagger found its mark, the husk soulless yes, but oh how they screamed like any real living thing would. Once, perhaps, he would have shrunk away from the sound. A long time ago, he'd be frantic to silence them, clumsily slashing at vocal cords and sobbing in fear and horror-

He knew how to work now, and the screaming was quickly silenced to pathetic, wet gurgling as the cloaked man snapped ribs with ease, feeling the rippling sensation of that thing pulsing in the back of his head, feeding his meager strength. Peeling the membrane off the heart. Sinking his teeth in and silencing the husk forever.

Blood everywhere. It stank of it, but the pain in his body and his lungs faded with every bite, even if it couldn't fully sate the beast. Just another bandaid.

But for now, it would do.
4 Amberdrake

Of course, Everglade wouldn't have the materials he needed. No one would stock in the type of silver he required, and he didn't even ask any shops there. Seemed like a good way to get a lot of unwanted attention. So, wrapped up in fleece and wool, cranky and miserable and cold, headed for Fayren.

They'd have what he needed, or at least part of it. He could always return home and finish blessing it all later. He had some energy in his step now, so the little man was going to be quite the obnoxious terror in Fayren, picky and fussy with everything he picked up, viciously haggling every single object down.

"I'll only be takin' pure silver, and not anything else. I don't want any steel or nickle in any of this- What else is in this mirror? Oi! Tis a real question, does it look like I'm foolin' with ye?"

Yeah. Not a good day for Fayren.

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Drake held the wound open as best he could from the surface, one hand splayed out around it and providing pressure out. Then came the forceps, expertly wielded. It was almost like he'd had full-on surgical training, before the Gift had ever been trained! Which, of course, he had. And he'd been a prodigy even then.

Thus the tool was used with utmost precision, no scraping against the narrow wound as he went. Through his other hand, the Gift slid in and reduced inflammation, funneling building fluids away from the wound to make the passage stay open and clear. Even the remaining trickle of blood was siphoned out and away, keeping the hole clear.

He got 'hold of the silver ball and carefully eased it free of the bones it had shattered, then drew it out in one smooth, well-practiced motion. Drake wasn't two thousand years old, but most of his life had been dedicated to medicine in one form or another, and his longest experience was as a regular surgeon with no Gift to assist him. The Gift, now fully-trained, was another tool in his arsenal.

"Alright ves'tacha, you're familiar with the bone process." It was going to feel weird, but he was precise, setting the bloodied tool and the buckshot aside to be sterilized later. Bone fragments began to shift inside the wound, guided by the Gift now inundating the wound site. Sharp edges were taken with extra care, to not slice up the tissue around it further as his pelvis was essentially re-built from the inside, and splinted together with a complex web of Amberdrake's own life energy.

Then came the soft tissue, and the process was mostly the same as the wounds on his thigh, regrowing and stitching together meat and vein and muscle and tendon bit by bit from the inside up toward the surface.

"Don't you dare try to walk on this yet," Drake added to Sanzo in the common tongue, once his hip was completely repaired, right up to the skin patching over with fresh growth. "Or I'll paralyze the whole thing. And you know the disclaimers about bones."

His energy would hold it together, but it wasn't as strong as properly solid bone. Bones would need to knit over time, or they'd become fragile. The best he could do was hold it all together in proper alignment against a reasonable level of force. Sanzo would probably have a cane for a while, after this. He finished with wrapping Sanzo's thigh with one of the rolls of bandages, offering some compression support for the remaining gouges over the top of the priest's jeans.

Next, would be Cassian, but Drake paused while he was still kneeling on the blood-soaked dirt to produce that small thermos from in his robes and take a pull of the too-hot liquid. It burned his mouth and throat something fierce, but it was best to start getting the herbs into him sooner rather than later. He could not afford to over-extend, especially in Goddess-damned Everglade.

Edited 2016-12-29 23:47 (UTC)

Spite compelled Sanzo to sit up but the very real threat of being paralyzed for hurting himself further kept him in place. For now. His glare turned back to Cassian now. It was too much to ask to get Drake to leave him in that state. Even if he told Drake what the man did he wouldn't stop helping him. Soft hearted ass.

"It's his fault," he growled in Cassian's direction. It was totally his fault. Completely.

Sanzo was still lightheaded and too weak from blood loss and pain to do much other than lay there, but he was healed just enough to be a petulant ass.

"The devil it was-" Came the hissing, gurgling answer, followed up by the ever poignant wad of spit and blood that seemed to be punctuating all his sentences lately.

"Ye kept walkin' nothin' would have happened at all, mind yer own business, donkey."

Amberdrake sighed into his thermos, not bothering to hide the reaction. He lowered it and capped it; tucked it back away again, and rolled up his tools to tuck away as well. "Your personalities are so alike, it's like being in an echo chamber," he informed both of the cranky, gun-toting priests.

He didn't mind Sanzo sitting up; would have helped him, had they not had an audience.

Drake got up and approached Cassian, next, his vivid blue eyes still unfocused in that weird way that said he wasn't seeing the surface of much of anything. They focused just long enough for him to assess the other priest's clothing, and then he was reaching to hike the bottom of Cassian's shirt up just enough to reach his ribs with one hand. "This isn't entirely from the Sutra," he noted. What the hell had these two idiots done?

If the Gift was interesting to watch, now Cassian got to experience it himself. It was like the tingle of walking under powerful electrical lines, only it spread out from Drake's fingertips and sank in as he took a closer 'look' at the damage. Not painful, but certainly noticeable to anyone with a lick of magical senses.

Sanzo did push himself up, not as slow as he should've been, propping himself up on his elbows to watch Drake and Cassian. There was a look in his eyes that made it very clear he'd attack again, somehow, if Cassian tried anything. He was watching and wary.

"Does that matter?" He didn't offer the reason for the injuries, it was obvious enough. He punched the shit out of the guy!

Honestly it didn't look like Cassian could do much of anything other than sit there on his stump and wheeze and drool. Menacingly.

"We punched each other about for a few minutes too if ye need to know that. Swats like a fat kid in the playground he does."

Okay no, he'd never had healing magic done on him before, so as much as his lip curled when Drake felt beneath his shirt and inspected his collar bone, he managed to keep his temper if only out of sheer interest to see what happened. The sensation was... admittedly, fascinating as well, sensitive to magic as he was, and the priest shuddered from the contact. Not revulsion, it was just... odd.

Edited 2016-12-30 04:43 (UTC)

"Fight a lot of kids on playgrounds, do you?" Amberdrake was amused, if exasperated with the both of them. The tendrils of the Gift went deeper, and Drake paused for a moment at what he was seeing.

No cell-death. Certain expected growth-patterns were missing, and... hm. He wasn't undead, but he wasn't changing. He wasn't aging. But he was otherwise human, as far as Drake could tell...

He filed that away and got to work.

"This is going to feel weird," Amberdrake warned, and bones began to move as though on their own under Cassian's skin. He started with the ribs and sternum, to take pressure off Cassian's lungs. Energy lingered as things lined up correctly and he moved on, holding it all together. Pain began to go dull, and quiet -- not gone, but hushed.

"You know, your lungs are more scar-tissue than not," Drake commented as he deftly countered the damage done by the crushing. Fluid and energy was directed as he deemed best, and raw power was expended to heal the damage at a thousand times the regular speed. "Pneumonia, if I was to guess. The more you get it, the easier it is to get it again, and again, because of that scarring."

"Pity it hasn't killed him yet," Sanzo spat from where he lay on the dirt. Fuck Cassian and his stupid as comments about how well Sanzo fought. If he wanted to make sure the fucker didn't move again, he could've done that! Asshole should consider himself lucky Sanzo didn't want to put a bullet in his brain.

"Ye feckin' smart alek." But he didn't say anything beyond that because one does not insult the doctor.

There's an uncomfortable squirm, a sensation he's unfamiliar with. Something was weird here, he felt exposed- "What the hell are ye lookin' at in there..." Not a threat, but there's a hint of concern in that tone.

Oh yes, that did feel weird. Not agonizing, as bone shifting very well should feel, but deeply strange, the priest squirming again as things began to line up correctly. "Ye weren't jokin'."

The comment on the state of his lungs just earned a bitter glare from the smaller man. "And what do ye expect me to do about it? Nick over to the pharmacy for a new pair?" AS FOR YOU, SANZO-

"I'll live three times longer than you an' yer tar balloon smoke suckers, that's fer goddamn sure."

"Well, I could fix the scarring, just like I periodically fix the tar in Sanzo's lungs," Amberdrake dropped that particular bomb-shell. "Something to think about, it would be a... process."

There was a lot of scar tissue to contend with. A. Lot. Like... how many lifetimes have you had pnuemonia for... levels of a lot.

"Now, pay close attention to this, because it's serious. The splints I'm leaving on these bones are pretty strong, but it's just energy. They will be weaker than normal while they're healing. I could expedite the process, but forcing bones to knit faster than normal often makes them weaker permanently."

Not to mention trying would probably leave Drake face-down in the mud. Bones were serious drains to try to push forward. He was already looking a bit pale as it was, a grey cast starting to make its way into face and hands. The energy had to come from somewhere, after all. A little came from his patient, but the lion's share by far came from the Healer.

Amberdrake moved to work on Cassian's collar bone, finally, supporting the cranky man's elbow with his other hand while he worked. There was the shifting of bones again as everything lined up, and the feel of energy wrapping around the break to hold it in place.

Sanzo knew this healing had to be getting to Drake and the drained look to him didn't go unnoticed. What a waste to spend what energy he had, after putting Sanzo back together, on that jackass.

"What good has living that long done you, asswipe?" Eating hearts in the woods, what a life.

No he was starting to catch on to just how much energy was going into this, and when Drake moved to try and repair the collar bone, that was when the shouting started.

"Oi! Leave off, ye look half dead!" Gray, he had decided, did not look good on the other man. Technically not on anyone, but especially not on Drake. "I'll take care of that one meself, I know how to jimmy a splint for that." Wouldn't be the first time that particular bone broke, collar bones weren't exactly the strongest one in the body. Once more, back to Sanzo-

"None of yer goddamn business, donkey."

Amberdrake huffed out a sigh and finished up the collar bone. "Yes, a collar bone is going to be what over-extends me," oh yes, that was indeed some dry-ass, grade-A sarcasm. "All those years Healing entire battalions of fighters and support staff in the Mage Wars, and I still just don't know my own limits."

Clearly.

And no, grey did not look good on him. That rich, dusky skin-tone of his was much better looking in the warmer registers.

"Just don't push the energy splints and re-break it all," Drake withdrew his hands, and the Gift, his eyes re-focusing again. Energy splints was right; it was very faint, that energy sensation, but it was still there, wrapped precisely around each broken place in Cassian's skeleton.

Drake was too good at his job to wobble at this low level -- for him -- of exhaustion; he stepped away and produced the thermos of bitter herbs again, uncapping it and finishing it off in one long pull. Ugh.

Drake's sarcasm was enough to distract Sanzo from the yelling he had planned for Cassian. He snorted in amusement, Amberdrake was more coherent right now anyway. Cassian hadn't learned the lesson he had to, never sass the healer, not even a little. Sanzo still did but he didn't now, and that's all that mattered.

"You're wasting your time on him Drake."

"Don't ye feckin' even start with me-" It actually almost seemed to take effort to shut himself up, finally clamping down on his tongue in order to convince the vile thing to stop moving for ten minutes.

"I won't." Short and sweet and to the point. He'd go home, drink, go to bed and not leave the house for a long ass time. The shop would just have to be closed for a little while until he could heal correctly.

Through the twisted up, annoyed look on his face, genuine concern lingered behind the glasses as Drake took the last of the herbs from the bottle. He should say something. Thank you, probably.

"Thank y-" SANZO.

"I swear to God, I will get up and smack your face straight off of your face."

Drake lowered the empty thermos and rubbed his forehead, torn between a spike of amusement and a blanket of weary exasperation. THESE TWO. ESPECIALLY YOU, CASSIAN.

"You'll do no such thing," Amberdrake finally capped the emptied thermos and put it away. "The next one of you to attack the other is getting spanked." Because honestly. Drake didn't care how old Cassian might be under all that lack of aging; he'd dealt with older. He'd very likely make good on that threat.

"I'll put a bullet between your eyes if you come near me." He still had the gun in hand! He meant it! Drake got a sour look for his reprimand but no retort. Some things weren't worth risking.

"Piss off, freak, you're done here." Cassian was healed, so he should leave now. Right now. Faster. Leave!

"Oh yes, cos ye've done such a good job what of shootin' me in the face up until this point." He doesn't believe you and he double doesn't now that Drake is here.

"Everglade is actually my home, so why don't ye get up and wobble on home, gimpy?"

He really, really needs to see if Drake was serious.

For science.

Edited 2016-12-30 06:25 (UTC)

Drake shuddered at the reminder that they were in Everglade. Yes, visibly shuddered.

He moved over to Sanzo and offered a hand down, "Try not to put more than three-quarters pressure on that leg," he told the monk, "you can use my shoulder for support."

Sanzo faced a terrible war with his pride. His impulsive nature told him to fling himself at Cassian, that would deal with the immediate damage to his ego. Sanzo had killed hundreds while more injured than this, he could take one frail priest. Then again, he'd never recover if Drake carried through with his threat and he was always serious with his threats.

"I spared you earlier, asshole." Sanzo took the hand and pulled himself up. He wobbled in place, sour at the idea of having to lean on Drake for help but there wasn't much of an option so he did.

"Ye couldn't kill me if ye had three cannons a tank and the rest of yer feckin' life to do it." He was getting up too, wobbling, but considerably more stable than Sanzo and his buckshot hip.

Sucker.

"Ye come sniffin' round me ever again, I don't care who ye share a bed with, I'll break your pretty face right in half."

"Do not use me as ammunition, please," Amberdrake asked it very nicely, but also very... mm, there was a finality there. He helped hoist Sanzo's arm over his shoulders and held onto the priest's wrist, looping his other arm around the skinny blond's waist. May as well, if the cat was out of the bag anyway.

The birds all at once stopped their little perimeter-checking and started to gather up, as though they'd been asked to. Two of them had even found the bits of buckshot that had passed through Sanzo's leg, and seemed determined to bring it.

Driven momentarily speechless from indignation and horror that his relationship with Drake was so easily figured out, Sanzo didn't have a snappy retort to Cassian. The look he gave the other priest was meant to be murderous but was more offended than anything. Of all the people to know who he was, somehow, involved with!

"If I see you again, it'll be to fucking kill you," he finally spat out, all sorts of offended right now.

"Of course, Sir Amberdrake, I do apologize to ye." To him. It was sincere. But it's just for him and not for Sanzo, who is on the receiving end of a very unpleasant, smug, thin smile.

"I'll be waitin' for ye, I'm sure ye'll be able to find me again, donkey."

Amberdrake just laughed, because they really were just too damn much alike. He nodded to Cassian in parting, and moved to haul Sanzo away, his little birds acting as little homing beacon guides.

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badly_behaved_priest - 2016-12-30 07:38 (UTC) - Expand

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