milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[OOM: One commission, two gifts and an unexpected visitor. Small warning for a bit of blood and gore.]

Weyland returns to the bar sometime later, when he has recovered enough to appear calm again, and he carries the gifts he has made up to the bar. It looks like it's going to be another Atlantean night.

He takes a seat at the bar, and waits. There's one person in particular he's waiting for and several others he'd be very happy to see, but really any distraction would be welcome.

[open until it scrolls!]

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"There are those here who can heal," he says, "and even I can do it to a degree, but unfortunately, this sort of situation you would need to heal without magic influences, just mundane medical treatment. Otherwise, it cancels out."

She shakes her head, "I'll deal with it. Can't be much worse than having a scar that doesn't heal and still hurts."

And at this point, she figures it always will.

"This will heal," he says. "Don't worry about that."

He studies the metal appraisingly, then leaves the bellows as the are to go fetch a bucket of cool water, which he carries over and sets near Coreen's feet.

"I didn't figure you'd cripple me," she says quietly, watching his movements very closely.

She swallows hard.

This...is gonna fucking suck.

"No," he says, straightening back up and moving toward the forge to retrieve the metal, giving Evan an idle pat on the head on the way. "I would not do that to you. But I need you to relax, and concentrate."

He picks the metal up by the unheated end and carries it over, slowly.

She takes a deep breath, nods, and puts the leather in her mouth, nose wrinkling at the taste.

She closes her eyes, and visualizes herself in Squirrel's arms, Evan not far away...looking into Joe's green eyes, seeing herself reflected in his eyes.

She focuses on this.

He continues to approach slowly, giving the metal time to cool a little, before he kneels at her feet.

The metal is still a little too hot, so he dips a hand in the bucket of water, and lets it drip carefully onto the heated end of the metal, dimming its glow somewhat.

Once it is to his satisfaction, he takes hold of her foot--gently, but firmly--and presses the sculpted end of the metal to it, holding it there for several seconds.

She cringes as the water hisses off the hot metal, biting hard on the leather.

She the hot metal hits her foot, even through the leather she screams. There's nothing to do but scream for a moment.

Her eyes open, and look around wildly as her hands claw into her leg as she tries vainly not to move.

It doesn't hurt less when he finally pulls the metal away from her.

When he takes the metal away, he brings the bucket of water up instead, immersing her foot in it. It's very cold water, at least.

And he rests a hand on the top of her head for a moment, in an attempt to be soothing, before he returns the metal to the fire. It must be destroyed for the magic to work.

Tears stream down her face as she hunches in on herself in pain.

She lets him touch her, but the feralness of an animal is very near the surface in her.

She spits the leather out, in two pieces, and throws them in the fire as well.

She's got plans to burn her clothing too, when she gets a chance.

He sprinkles some unseen substance on the fire and it flares up very brightly, very briefly, before fading to its usual glow. There's that done, then.

At that, he goes to check on the increasingly agitated Evan. "It's all right, lad," he murmurs.

He might not want to touch agitated Ev, as Ev may decide it's appropriate to sic his new-found henchsqrls on Weyland.

Coreen turns to look at the basket that Evan's lying in, before trying to stand to get to him, but the movement of her foot just hurts worse.

"Please...bring...him," she says, barely able to speak.

It would also probably not be a good thing for poor Ev to try biting Weyland.

Luckily, that's not going to happen, as he picks the basket up and carries it carefully over to Coreen. "I can carry you back inside if you'd like, so you can get some ice and proper treatment."

"Have...ice...upstairs. Go...home."

She pulls the basket into her lap, still crying, but rubs him softly behind the ears. There's no sense in upsetting him.

He leans down to pick up her shoe, and then scoops Coreen up gently and carefully.

"There's some vodka in the cabinet over there if you'd like it. One can also get painkillers from the bar if you prefer."

She shakes her head to both. "If I can endure childbirth with nothing, I can take this."

She's a tough one.

He may not be as showily strong as her fiancé is, but Weyland is strong all the same, so carrying her out of the forge and along the path back to the bar is no trouble at all.

"It has been done cleanly, but you must take care of it. I wouldn't want you to be harmed because of it."

Well, it's not like she's that big, either, and Evan's still small.

"I can treat it. Don't worry about me, Weyland."

Even if it is nice that he seems to care.

"There will always be concern," he says, but leaves it at that, as he continues along the path.

"I'll have Joe order some bandages and aloe. It'll be alright."

She leans her head against him, cradling the basket tightly to her chest.

"I can have them sent up for you," he says, opening the door and stepping back into the bar. "Well, some to get you started anyway."

She nods, slowly. "Thank you, Weyland."

Evan has still not decided what's going on, and he's not particularly thrilled about that either. The fact that he knows that his mother is in pain doesn't help either.

Well, Evan will have plenty of time to feel safe and comforted when they are back up in their room. It smells like a proper den to him anyway, not the weirdness of the forge.

Weyland quietly relays an order for supplies to a waitrat on his way to the elevator.

Hell, the forge smells weird to Coreen too. And makes her eyes hurt.

Her eyes are hurting for a different reason now, as she finally stops crying, and starts worrying. Joe is not going to be thrilled.

Luckily, the worry doesn't last long before her world fades to black.

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