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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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It honestly just looked like any other frog, kinda slimy, pretty chubby, a little spotty. Apparently the only real thing setting it apart from any other old frog was the fact that it managed to be just as big of a douchebag as it's enchanter.

"I'm not walking back to Everglade with that in the bag."

"Well it..." Drake paused, and peered at the frog with his eyes going unfocused for one brief second, "...he, rather, can't stay here. And I can already tell you what will happen if he goes back to the house with me."

Oh he knew it was male? It never mattered much to Cassian, honestly-

"Good, deserves it for followin' me here, the little prick."

... He will take it back if Drake just drops it in his lap, honestly. For all the smoke and mirrors he was throwing up, it would be almost comically obvious he wasn't going to actually argue.

"I was going to say, Sanzo will probably end up marching him back to your house and dropping him back in your pond," Amberdrake did indeed deposit the frog in Cassian's lap, though he set the amphibian down rather than dropping him. Dropped, he'd probably hop away in an instant. Set down, things were calmer.

The constant, low-level projection of calm that Drake gave off by default probably didn't hurt matters, either.

"I don't think you expected me to give you the silver after that incident," Drake added, curious, "so, what did bring you here?"

"That donkey doesn't know where I live." He hoped. Not for his own sake. Well sort of for his own sake, he would have to reset all those stupid fucking wards if some pissed off priest with a pistol came punching his way into his house.

He didn't react much to the frog, and the frog didn't jump away from him, both calm and comfortable considering both Drake's attitude and Cassian's generally pretty warm lap.

"... Ye... mentioned somethin' about repairin' lungs."

"I did," Amberdrake agreed, pleased. Few people let him work on their chronic health problems that easily. Even if Cassian was only curious and looking for information, that was something. "Are you just curious about it, or wanting to give it a shot?"

"... I need to know what it entails. What kind of information ye might need before hand. I'll tell ye right off the bat, I ain't been seen by a proper doctor in...

... Well for a long time."

"Well," Drake folded his hands together on his bent knee, "it's the same as when I worked on your ribs, I just send the Gift deeper and... well... rebuild your lungs bit by bit. I'd be using the scarred tissue as material where I could and burning it away where I couldn't, so long as it was an area I was already in the process of rebuilding. Pain receptors would be temporarily shut down for that bit, of course."

Because of course, right?

"I admit it's a little more complicated than that, but it's hard to explain it in words." And he wasn't going to be dropping his shields low enough to project any imagery at the non-Empath, not after hearing from Sanzo about that presence. And the hearts.

"I already know you don't age. Your cells aren't splitting the way someone's would while aging. There's no growth going on, and no decay. But you're alive, not undead."

He listened, and it was hard to contain his fascination. It really was all terribly interesting, honestly. How could he not take it all in? Even if it wasn't complete information... Well if he agreed, he'd find out first hand, wouldn't he? It was very tempting.

"Aye... of course." He didn't sound so sure about the pain receptors part but... maybe it was for the best, considering how much damage he could only suppose sat inside his lungs at this point.

"I understand."

As for his current state, he was at a loss for it. "Tis the case, isn't it? Stopped changin' at twenty six." He shrugged helplessly. "I've not got much information on why." Well he had a cursory understanding. The real question wasn't why anymore, it was what.

Or who.

"... What will it cost?"

"There's nothing I need, so... nothing," Amberdrake shrugged, wondering if he was so similar to Sanzo that the idea of free Healing would sting his pride.

Aaand-

"I can't take something like that for free."

DING DING DING.

"I'll trade for it at the very least."

Amberdrake couldn't help but smile a little at that. Yes, it was more than obvious to him why the two cranky priests were beating each other into the mud before things got more serious with the Sutra and the shotgun.

"Now I'm just curious, what would you trade?"

"I create enchantments, as ye now know. Amulets, charms and wards as well. Wards for home protection, self protections, amulets to improve wit or speed or intelligence, charms to keep away the dead or demons, spirits in general usually.

Seems like ye have to end up in Everglade every so often anyway.

Wouldn't do ye a lick of harm to have some magic zombie bug spray on ye would it?"

If it wasn't for the way Cassian clashed with Genjyo, Drake would have considered asking for something for the house, to whatever degree the priest felt settled the bill. But having them around each other...

Maybe with his supervision...

Probably better to just avoid it, much as he wanted something -- anything -- that would give Ukoku at least a little pause. His request on the network hadn't resulted in much.

"Well, you know what you're good at," he finally said, "I'll accept whatever you decide is fair, is that acceptable?"

He might be able to make something that would give Ukoku a reason to think twice before just walking in. Maybe. But that would require information first of course.

Still, he didn't press it, just nodding as Drake left it at that.

"Aye, fine. Seems like a fair enough trade to me."

He took a deep breath, a faint wheeze attached to it.

"... Then I suppose... we ought to work on the next step, aye?"

"Yes," Drake agreed with a smile. He was very accustomed to navigating around prideful priests, at least.

"I'll need skin access again," he warned, "I can work through cloth but it drains me much faster."

The quicker he was drained, the less actual work he could do.

"I guess ye can't just hold me feckin' hand, now can ye?" There's a dry grumble, and he goes to unbutton the first few top ones of his shirt, undoing the collar enough to get it open.

It's enough to reveal a few of many scars, and the top of what almost appeared to be a very, very old brand, the skin smooth and shiny.

He doesn't allow the rest of it to be seen though, gesturing.

"This good enough?"

"Yes," Amberdrake smiled a little at how edgy Cassian was about exposing skin. There was probably a sad reason -- or thirty -- behind that, but it still reminded him of a younger Sanzo. Ironically enough. Though perhaps less ironically, when one took the age of his soul into account... and actually, it reminded him more of Konzen, didn't it?

He slipped his hand in through the opening given, splaying his hand out. Not just fingertips, this time, but full palm contact. His eyes immediately went unfocused as the Healing Gift's other sight took over, Cassian suddenly a dizzying array of colors and temperatures, fluid and energy, tendons and veins and yes, lungs. He focused on the lungs. Healthy air sacs filled, looking like tiny bunches of grapes with each inhale, then deflated with each exhale. Bloodflow response, keeping the healthy tissue running and funneling oxygen into his blood supply...

Less healthy... well, there was a lot of that, wasn't there? Drake considered the structure as a whole, mulling over which area would do the most good to work on first. Emergencies and otherwise, he tended to be very precise about where he applied his energy. He was a precision instrument, a surgeon who'd learned to use magic after the fact.

Maybe later, much later, Drake might get a story as to why he hated showing any part of him. It could be a thousand different reasons, but for now his prickliness alone would have to tell enough of a story for Drake.

Most of the bronchi were... well, not in good shape. Some of them just starting to heal from being terrifically swollen, there were obvious signs of asthma just about everywhere- No wonder he'd thrown such a fit over Sanzo blowing smoke in his face. Scar tissue covered a lot, and there was ever still a lingering presence of pneumonia, fluid already very slowly starting to collect in the very bottom of each lung.

Cassian just fidgeted, unsure of what to make of the situation as a whole. After all, it didn't... feel like anything was happening right now.

"... So ye find anythin' in there yet?"

"Plenty," Amberdrake's unfocused eyes didn't... well, obviously, they didn't focus anywhere. It wasn't the physical tissue in use right now. "Signs of swelling, asthma, pneumonia. I'm just deciding where to start; just looking doesn't burn any significant energy."

The first step, he decided, was to get rid of that fluid. Prevent more damage, then attack old remnants.

"None of these are such chronic issues on my world, except in places where the Gift is denied. Thankfully, my earliest studies were in such a place." As much as the Chirurgeon's College of Predain had tortured and nearly killed him -- nearly made him kill himself, even -- it had, at least, provided quite the unique foundation for his lifetime of study.

"You already have fluid collecting for the next round of pneumonia. I'm going to get rid of that, first, and try to purge out the cause. It could be viral, bacterial, or fungi... I'll find it."

"Well least there's that, I guess." He wasn't really surprised to hear he had asthma, the pnuemonia was equally unsurprising. In all honesty he should have seen a doctor the moment they came out with treatments for both but when one lives through the era were healing someone meant pulling out teeth and draining blood and coffee enemas, one tends to be less receptive of medicine in general.

Still, the idea of getting the usual fluid build up out was a nice one. Better to start there than anywhere else, right?

"Aye, yes of course."

The lungs didn't have much in the way of nerves, but Drake shut down those nearest his work as a precaution, and began to burn the fluid out. Not literally burning it; there was no damage to the surrounding tissue, but consuming it with pure energy could still be pretty uncomfortable near a nerve.

Once that was done, he turned the nerves back on and began searching for the cause of the pneumonia. No fungi, no bacteria, that left virus.

"Honestly, your entire immune system is pretty much neutered," Drake mused aloud while he started siftng through the contents of Cassian's blood stream. Yet another thing he could help with, over time. One would think someone paused in their mid-twenties would be healthier! But apparently, no.

At least he didn't react to that. The only indication to him that anything was even happening was easier breathing, the usual, if faint, rattle dying away.

Almost completely compromised, something was keeping him from constantly getting sick. Maybe it was the potions and charms he'd worked so hard to perfect? ... Or maybe it was related to not aging. Well whatever, forge on ahead.

Abysmal white blood cell count, it was a surprise he had a functioning system at all. "Tell me somethin' I don't know."

Amberdrake laughed at that, just a little. He was so used to sour patients, honestly...

"Your accent is terribly charming," Drake could compliment anyone until the sun burned out, and with absolute sincerity. It was part of his gift as a kestra'chern.

"I'm a hick, mate." DENIED. If he was charmed, he'd decided to bury it for now until he figured out if he liked being healed or not.

"I thought this would hurt more, honestly..."