The Master of Ceremonies (
i_am_your_host) wrote in
milliways_bar2016-12-13 04:11 pm
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OOM and return EP
This is not the end.
The door creaks open to the sounds of voices shouting in German.
People screaming and crying.
Violence and confusion.
A body drags itself in through the doorway and crumples into a rapidly growing pool of blood on the floor.
The door closes and disappears.
And Emcee is dying.
[OOC: Plot-locked to Sunshine, Jay, Eric, and Guppy. Warning for gory traumatic injury in the first thread. Reactions are welcome!]
The door creaks open to the sounds of voices shouting in German.
People screaming and crying.
Violence and confusion.
A body drags itself in through the doorway and crumples into a rapidly growing pool of blood on the floor.
The door closes and disappears.
And Emcee is dying.
[OOC: Plot-locked to Sunshine, Jay, Eric, and Guppy. Warning for gory traumatic injury in the first thread. Reactions are welcome!]
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He glances up at Rae for further instructions, but doesn't let go unless she says.
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She casts her affinity down along her arm, through her hand and into Eric's. It is warmth, gentle and golden, like the faint caress of the sun's warmth on a chilly winter's day. Sunshine gives a weak tug at Eric's power at first, and then, as Rae's eyes clear, a stronger pull on his strength. She has only ever pushed before - sending her magic to do what she needs it to - or accepted power that was offered to her in direst need. Con's strength, Con's blood.
Her voice is toneless and faint, but insistent. "...You're going to want to move your hands, Guppy. We've got him."
Pulling at that dark power is different than accepting only what is offered. The force of it nearly makes her topple over. The offer had been implicit in him taking her hand, but she hadn't expected it to feel like trying to contain and direct a river bursting forth from the base of a great dam. It takes effort to remember to keep breathing, the sunlight net in her skin glowing golden from the sudden influx of power so counter to her own affinity. Sunshine feels the vampire's strength crash into her, roiling, and quickly directs it through her other hand and into Emcee. Now she knows, perhaps, what a lightning rod feels like. Or a fire hose at full-blast. It had been hard for her to focus before; now it is all she can do to direct that strength where it is needed most. She focuses repair on his heart first, strengthening it, rapidly speeding up the healing of the broken blood vessels and the creation of blood cells to fill them. And then she turns her attention to the additional tissue damage of the gunshot wounds, and one small but important matter...
Amid all the blood, a lump of metal rises over the lip of one of the rapidly shrinking wounds in Emcee's chest, and falls away to the side.
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Everything in him rebels at the sensation of something gushing forth, from his hand into Sunshine's and from there into Emcee and it's a struggle not to pull his hand away from her.
The light within her pains his hand (and reminds him of things that are far in the past and insignificant - and painful)and he bares his teeth, hissing loudly.
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And then the sudden rush of life through Emcee's body makes his chest rise with a deep, sudden gasp for air.
His core spasms, his eyelids flutter and fly open, pupils wide.
There's light all around but he can't see.
--but he can breathe. He's breathing, faster and stronger, his heart beating as if to catch up with lost time.
And he begins to wonder what exactly is happening...
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"Keep nice and still, Emcee."
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As the last of the tissue damage is taken care of and the skin around the wounds is repaired, Sunshine loosens her hold on Eric's cold hand and tries weakly to shake her hand free of his grip. One of the problems of making up your apprenticeship as you go is occasionally not knowing how to stop something once you've started it. The best way she know how is to cut off the influx of power.
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Everything hurts, the hunger (huge and black and ever growing) brought about by Sunshine's magic is making him feel dizzy and vulnerable and he does not like it.
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He realizes that he's sweating. Just moments ago he was ice cold.
His tongue feels thick and sluggish and the only sounds he can make are questioning whimpers as his senses overwhelm him all at once. And his memories flood back: memories of the pain, the confusion, the desperation-- of his friends back home and the sounds of their voices crying out in the dark.
Tears fill his eyes and spill down his cheeks, blurring his already hazy vision. He reaches out for someone, anyone, though his arm feels like lead.
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"You're going to be okay." he says, shakily.
He's about to explain about the needles stuck in Emcee's legs, but the last bit of the magic appears to have popped them out.
"You're in Milliways. Rae and Eric and Jay are here."
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And it's driving Eric pretty low. The put the blood bags aside, they're clearly not doing anything anymore and throws off his jacket.
He rolls up his sleeve and presents a wrist to Eric. They can deal with Jay's blood loss better than they can deal with Eric's blood lust.
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Her glassy gaze takes in the hungry, angry vampire, and she can't muster up an appropriate reaction. Probably not a good situation to be in, but she is just too mind-blasted and exhausted from the healing to care about potential death at those same hands. What did he think was going to happen? Isn't there some scientific theory or something about stuff like this? Maybe she could pitch a scientific treatise on it and get published - the Law of the Conservation of Energy in Relation to Vampiric Healing. The ancient, stuffy academics at the Other Museum would go into fits of jealousy. Her mind is rambling. She can feel gravity pulling at her, the difficulty of not drifting off.
She avoids Eric as she steps unsteadily away from the bed. She isn't even going to think about what Jay is doing. She turns on the water as hot as she can stand at the sink where she washed her hands... minutes and days ago. She has to get the blood off her hands. Every movement is automatic, unthinking. When her hands and forearms are clean again, pink with heat and scrubbing, she turns the water off. It does nothing to the dried blood on the gown, the apron beneath that, or her jeans and sneakers, but her hands are clean. It'll do.
Jay will take care of Eric if anyone can, and Guppy's got Emcee, who should be okay after some more rest. She finds the edge of the next bed over around the time her knees give way, lets herself lie down, and succumb to exhaustion.
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When Eric takes hold of it, his fingers are like ice. And trembling.
It's obviously affected him more than he is willing to let on.
He lifts Jay's wrist to his mouth and bites down hard.
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"But-- but I--"
His voice is hoarse, beathless, and he can taste his own blood.
"But I was sh- shot--"
His free hand moves to his chest and stomach, frantically feeling for-- well, he has no idea what. Something gory, perhaps. But the only thing he finds is bare skin coated with semi-dried blood (and being covered with dried blood is nothing new for him).
"Rae-- and Jay, and--?"
He turns his head and sees Jay with the large, black-clad figure with his back turned.
"I don't understand," he whimpers, unable to keep from crying.
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"I'm here, Emcee." He calls out, his voice tight with pushed down pain. "You're going to be okay." He wants to be holding Emcee but he needs to be distracting Eric.
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And the tears.
(He can smell them).
He swallows wetly.
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"What happened to her? Is she all right?"
And then he looks back at Jay and Eric, his eyes wide and teary.
"Why-- why is Eric feeding? Please, someone tell me what happened!"
Emcee's entire body seems to thrum with an otherworldly sensation in his agitation. A strange mix of Sunshine's inner light and Eric's insatiable hunger.
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"Rae is fine, she's just resting. Eric is fine, he just needs to top up. I'm fine and I'll be with you in a moment. Just stay calm and let Guppy look you over."
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"Yes you were shot. Rae and I tried to fix it but you were bleeding too fast, so Rae and Eric did some sort of healing boost. The bullets are out. I need to put another drip in you to replace the fluid, so lie still, OK?"
He hoped Emcee doesn't look at the floor.
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And that is an overwhelming thought.
He takes a deep breath and settles back down, nodding blankly at Guppy's request.
But he can't stop the tears from welling in his eyes. He's not in any pain or discomfort, though, which is incredible, after having felt the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life.
"This is all so-- I don't know what to--" he murmurs in a small voice, his breath hitching with sobs that he tries to suppress.
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Eric swallows another mouthful of blood and lets go of Jay's wrist.
Two steps take him to Emcee's bedside.
He cannot abide tears.
Especially not tears that seem to slowly trickle down the inside of his skin.
He doesn't yell. He doesn't threaten.
He doesn't hit him.
Instead, he opens his bloody lips and says, in a soft voice smooth as honey, "Little Mouse, you have to stop crying. You are safe and tired and you should relax now," in German.
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Not this. He knows what it is. And he's not sure what to make of it.
His wrist bound, he checks on Rae, making her comfortable and wrapping a blanket around her hand getting warm water to start washing the last of the blood off her hands.
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She had gotten her hands as clean as she could before she passed out - they still smell of soap - but signs of blood linger around her nails. The blood on the infirmary gown, her apron, and the knees of her jeans has dried or is well on its way to being dry.
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A quiet calmness suddenly descends upon him and his tears stop falling. He is safe, and he is tired, and yes, he should relax now.
And as he looks into Eric's eyes, he feels something else. Something deep that was never this powerful before, more than a vague magnetic pull between minds and bodies that could be ignored. They can't ignore this now. There is a Bond. Whatever they had done to save Emcee's life somehow strengthened it.
Emcee takes a breath to ask something--but then remains silent. He knows that Eric knows.
He settles down, quiet as a mouse.
And quite frankly, exhausted.
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Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Right. He will ignore it and it will go away.
He pushes Emcee's hair away from his face and gets up, wiping his mouth on his hand, and heads out of the door, saying, "We're not done," to Jay as he passes him.
Cold and hungry and -fuck.
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