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skylarmoon71 · 3 years

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Loki Laufeyson : (Short Story)- Chapter 4

"How are you holding up back there." you could barely reply, the very prominent stab wound in your stomach was making it a bit difficult to do much. You held your abdomen, resting your head on the back of the helicopter. Natasha was clenching our hand as Steve steered, hoping they could make it to the tower before you bled out. Your vision was getting a bit spotty.

"We're almost there Nat, make sure she doesn't lose consciousness!"

Steve called. Natasha nodded.

"You hear that, we'll be there in no time. Don't you dare close your eyes."

"I'm sorry." This was your fault. Since your conversation with Loki, you couldn't concentrate. Not only did you put the mission at risk, but you also managed to endanger your team. If Natasha hadn't gotten to you when she did, you would have been sporting far worse that a knife wound. You coughed, and some blood ran over the side of your lips. Natasha titled your body, ensuring that you didn't choke on your own blood.

"We're losing her!" Natasha panicked. You wanted to stay awake, but it was so hard. You felt so weak, and cold.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)!!"

~~~

"Get her back here immediately. " Steve is carrying your body through the hallway, and he stops when they get to the medical room. Tony and Bruce rush to your side, and the rest of them are gathered around, watching how pale you seem now. You're lying there and Bruce is reaching for supplies to get to the wound. Tony has all the equipment ready, and in seconds, Bruce has a pair of scissors, cutting around your vest to get to the wound.

"What the hell happened!" Bucky demands. He pushes forward, but Steve grabs his shoulder, shaking his head. Now isn't the best time to lose his temper. His lips form a thin line, and they can't do much but watch Tony and Bruce work. When the door opens behind it's Loki and Thor who walk in. Their smiling, discussing something. That all stops when they see your body on the table.

"Lady (Y/N)." Thor is stunned at the scene, and Loki takes a few steps closer. It's weird for him. He's grown used to your frown whenever he steps into the room.

Bruce has just finished hooking the patches to your body, and the vitals displayed in not to his liking.

"This isn't good, she's going to crash. She's lost too much blood. We need a transfusion."

As high tech as the building is, Tony doesn't have blood just lying around. It would take time to obtain some. As it stands, they don't have time.

"We're in luck, she's a universal recipient. " Bruce says in relief when he runs through your charts. Natasha is already rolling up her sleeves.

"I'll do it." Loki states.

They're a bit taken aback.

"That's generous of you, but you're not exactly human. We have no idea what kind of repercussions that will have on her." Bruce argues.

"It's because I'm not human that makes it the best choice. My blood should help to speed up her recovery."

"Brother, are you sure?"

"I'm positive. "

Maybe it's because he feels he owes you something. They don't really have the luxury to question it. Loki takes a seat, and Bruce is still a bit hesitant when he hooks up the needle to his arm, connecting it to yours. His eyes dart to the screen, checking to see if there is any significant change.

Positive or negative.

The steady beeping that follows makes Bruce sigh. "Her pulse is returning to normal. Blood pressure has lowered too." He's going over every bit of information, just to make sure this doesn't turn south, and Loki settles into the chair, watching your slow breaths. Your hands twitch, and he jolts when he feels a shock. He blinks for a second, wondering if he imagined it.

"Brother, what's the matter?" He's not sure.

"Nothing it's, I was sure I felt something." he squints, now he feels a bit of a migraine, and he grips the bridge of his nose.

"Where am I?" The voice in his head makes his eyes dart around.

"(Y/N)?" Loki speaks aloud.

They watch him wearily.

"Are you sure you're doing okay buddy." Tony asks.

You're still unconscious, so they can't see how he could be talking as if you aren't.

"It's (Y/N), I think she's...she's speaking with me."

"No way.. Even while she's unconscious are you sure?" Bruce's curiosity gets the best of him.

"Loki? Is that you, what happened. The last thing I remember I was on the helicopter and I.."

The monitor starts to flash, a loud beeping increases. Bruce scrambles over to the screen.

"Loki get her to relax or she's going to blow the machines!" He hollers.

He reaches over, taking your hand.

"Calm down, we've managed to stabilize your body. You're in the medical facility. You need to relax."

It's said so calmly, and you're not sure why, but you comply. When the beeping fades out, Bruce can breath again.

"How come you're the only one who can hear me."

"It must be the blood transfusion. Our abilities are somewhat alike in certain instances. "

"You're...giving me blood?"

Loki smiles. "Don't sound so surprised, I do have a heart mortal."

"Didn't I say stop calling me that. You're lucky I'm unconscious otherwise I'd beat your ass. Again."

This time Loki laughs out loud.

Tony watches suspiciously.

"What are you guys talking about."

"Trivial things."

Tony doesn't quite believe it. "Riiiight. Well she seems stable, and you two apparently have a lot to talk about so we'll just leave you to it. I'll take this in case anything changes." He grabs a smaller device.

"This will go off the minute she wakes up, or in case she goes jedi on us again."

Tony ushers everyone out, deciding that you and Loki need a little time to chat.

"Wait a second this is incredible. I have to study to see how far her telepathic waves-"

"Not now doctor." He has to pull Bruce out, and Thor sends a proud smile in Loki's direction right before they leave.

"Loki." There's a bit of uncertainty in your tone this time.

"What is it, if you're worried about being alone there's no need. I'm right here."

You never thought you'd feel so relieved to hear those words.

"T-Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. On the grand scale of things, I owe you at least this much."

He's referring to what happened when he went all crazy trying to take over the world. It causes a flash of guilt, and Loki is a bit overwhelmed by the weight of it when he feels your pain reflected off of him.

"Is that what you feel all the time." He closes his eyes to try and make it go away.

"Y-Yeah it's...it gets a bit hard to deal with." You have to get a better handle, because he's connected now. So if you aren't careful, he may feel all your conflicting feels, not just the negative ones. That unnerves you.

"You're not just a telepath, you're an empath."

"I have no idea what I am."

He recalls the story of your childhood. It dawns on him that whoever your birth parents were, they had to have been powerful people. Possibly not even truly humans.

"Have you ever tried looking for them, you're birth parents."

It's personal, and he knows that the question sends you in slight chaos. There is a sense of dread that runs through his veins. "I haven't." you finally respond. The sinking in his stomach disappears, replaced by a warmth.

"I already have a family." He wonders if the warmth is due to the memories you've had with your foster parents.

"I can feel how much you love them." It reminds him of the way he treasured his late mother Frigga. There is a lot he's regretted in his life. One of his biggest is possibly not expressing how she never made him feel like less than what he was. She was the one who got him into magic.

"You have someone like that, I can feel it. Who is she?"

You're not at full strength, otherwise you would have just picked the name right from his mind. But you hope that he wants to actually tell you.

"Her name was Frigga. She..she was my mother. She was an incredible person. She didn't deserve to..she shouldn't have died."

His grief, it was so strong. Not what you expected at all. Not for him.

"I'm sorry."

Loki shook his head.

"It's in the past."

"I'm not just talking about her. I'm sorry for what I said before. It was wrong, and cruel. I was trying so hard to look at you like you were a monster because I was pissed at myself. I didn't know how to deal with it, so I just took it out on you. I'm sorry Loki."

Loki smiled at that.

"I am sorry as well. For everything." his hand tightened, squeezing your palm, and in that room, all you could feel was a general warmth wash over.

For the first time since you came, you weren't angry.

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sergeant-angels-trashcan · 6 years

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Is it still whump if it has a good resolution?

Well, either way, here’s my take on Whumptober Day 1--Stabbed

(I’ll be tagging everything I do for this as “Whumptober” regardless of how whumpy it actually is, if anyone needs to blacklist)

“Thanks for the cover fire,” Red Hood growls at her, throwing himself against the wall next to Hawkeye. “Did I detect I missed shot?”

“Fuck. Off.” Kate gasps, her bow clattering next to her, digging her heel into the rooftop and gritting her teeth.

“Shit. You hit?” Red Hood finally looks at Kate, at the knife lodged between her ribs, at the ever-growing stain darkening the bright purple of her suit.

“A little.”

“Fuck.” He looks at her side, then back up at her. Probably. It’s hard to tell with the mask. “There’s no way that didn’t hit your lung.”

“No shit.” Kate forces herself to keep her hands flat against her sides, not gripping the knife, not pulling it out like every instinct is screaming she do.

“I can handle this,” Red Hood says. “But not here. I’d rather not have to watch our backs while making sure you don’t bleed out.”

“The fuck you can!” Breathing might be hard but damned if she won’t bitch with what breath she has. “What, do you sell organs on the black market? Are you--” she doesn’t have the blood to spare but can feel it drain from her face for reasons other than her stab wound. “Are you a doctor?” She peers in his mask. “Dr. Strange?” There’s no fucking way Strange fell into this universe, too, and no way they’ve been fighting together for three months and he hasn’t let her know about it, but the multiverse is a weird place and weirder things have happened.

Red Hood tilts his head at her. “Who?”

“Just—just checking,” she leans back against the wall. “Getting stabbed kind of hurts, you know?”

Red Hood sticks his head over the wall before ducking down again. “Don’t pull it out.”

“Yeah. Got it.”

“If you pull it out, you will die,” he says again.

“For fuck’s sake. I’ve been stabbed before.

He stares at her, or in her general direction. “Guess you learn something new every day.”

He launches himself onto the fire escape, and for a while the only sound is gunfire.

…

It’s hard to focus on things when there’s a knife between your ribs so Kate doesn't know where they are, not exactly. Red Hood has one of her arms slung over his shoulders and has half-carried her for several blocks, smacking Kate’s hands away from the knife every time she reaches for it. He’s inordinately worried that she’s going to accidentally pull it out, and she’d finally had to yell at him to stop because that’s what she was afraid of—that the knife was going to fall out.

So he’d had to. Kind of. Re-stab her, just to make sure that she didn’t start bleeding out in the middle of downtown Gotham.

Not that it would be that noticeable.

“Doing okay, Hawkeye?”

“I have been looking for one of your safehouses for weeks and now I’m just getting walked right into one,” she mutters. “And all I had to do was get mortally wounded.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” says the man who is wearing a red goddamn skullcap mask and at least six guns. “And you did find one. The place above the bakery on 9th. It’s not anymore, but you did find one.”

“Unbelievable,” Kate mutters as he gently leans her against a wall and goes through a thumbprint scan and puts in three passcodes.

“If you’re bringing me here to kill me, I’ll haunt you,” she warns as he escorts her inside the sparse loft.

“If I wanted to kill you I would have just pulled the knife out,” he points out. “Give me some credit here, Kate.”

She freezes, pulls back from him. “Excuse me?”

“That’s you, right? Kate Bishop? I’m just letting you know that I know so that you don’t feel like you need to keep the mask on. You’re uncomfortable enough already, and you don’t seem to like it much.”

“Sonofabitch.” Kate rips off the domino mask and flings it down on the nearest table with too much drama, because she winds up doubled over, clutching her side.

“Take it easy,” Red Hood warns. “We’re in the home stretch, now. Let’s get you over to the couch.”

For the guy who’s in charge of midlevel crime in Gotham, he really is kind of nice.

“How’d you—how’d you find out?” Kate gasps as he helps ease her down.

“I have access to a lot of resources most people don’t,” he informs her. “Kind of like what I’m going to use to make sure you don’t bleed out.”

He disappears for a minute and comes back with a very medical looking vial and a few individually wrapped needle looking things.

He sits in front of her on the coffee table, holding the vial out for her to look at. “This is a military grade liquid suture. I’m going to inject it into you and it’s going to sanitize and seal your wound.”

“That sounds pretty cool. Gotham tech is awesome.”

“But since you were….” Red Hood trails off.

Kate looks at the hilt of the knife protruding from her side. “Impaled. You can just say it.”

“Since you were impaled, since the blade went...through you, I’m going to have to do this once for the front and once for the back. And I’m going to need your help with the back.”

“Fucking how, dude?”

“You’re going to have to pull the knife out, but only part of the way.”

Kate’s head buzzes. “What?”

“When I tell you to, you’re going to pull the blade out about halfway so that I can get the syringe in there.”

“How the fucking much is halfway? That’s not a measurement!” She wishes she could hyperventilate because now seems like a great time to do so but, you know. Knife in lung.

Red Hood seems to get what she’s saying, though, leaning back to look at her, measuring her side with the span of his hands. “Four inches,” he says with a small, firm nod. “The hilt is right up against you, so when you see four inches of blade, that will be enough.”

After some debate, it’s decided that it will be easier to do with Kate on her side, so Red Hood can roll her onto her back and take over knife watching duties.

He jabs a needle into the vial as Kate asks, “So, are you keeping the mask on during this?”

“It’s probably more sanitary.”

“You have a creepy red skull face. That’s not the last thing I want to see before I die.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“Says you.”

“Yes, says me!” Red Hood huffs at her, helps her lay on her side. “You have any guesses?”

“About how I’m going to die?”

“About who I am.”

“A few,” Kate admits.

“Okay, this might hurt, I’m trying to get the needle between the blade and your skin to cut down on how much blood you lose.” Red Hood jabs the syringe into her back. “So who do you think I am? This is going to burn, by the way.”

She thinks he’s kidding until he depresses the plunger, injecting her with the wound sealant he just used on himself and--

“Fuck!” Kate writhes, as if she can scramble away from the pain. “Fuck shit!”

“Hold still!” His hand clamps around her ribs. “You’re going to drive the knife further in, hold still!”

It burns. It burns like alcohol on an open wound, only this wound is deep-

She can’t breathe, and it’s terrifying, like her lungs have seized up--

The pain recedes until it’s just a dull throb.

“I changed my mind,” she pants as Red Hood eases her onto her back. “I hate your Gotham tech.”

“I’ll pass that along,” he says, already prepping another syringe. “You never said who you think I am.”

“They’re both dumb.”

“C’mon. Share.” He flicks his fingers against the syringe. “You get a prize if you get it right.”

“Is the prize a hired hit of my choosing?” She tears her eyes away from the syringe and tries to find someplace to put her hands. “Bruce Wayne or Lex Luthor. They’re both wrong. The Bruce Wayne thing actually lines up pretty well but he’s a lot broader than you are and the Lex Luthor guess is just because I can’t imagine you have a lot of hair under a helmet like that.”

Red Hood is staring at her. Or, well, probably. Hard to tell with the mask. “What?” she says.

“You’re surprisingly close with the Bruce Wayne guess,” is all he says. “Are you ready?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess? And how is Bruce Wayne close? You a billionaire playboy?”

“No—hold on.” He presses the knife to the side so there’s a small gap between the blade and part of the wound, so he can slide the syringe in like he did for the back. “Bruce Wayne was my mentor,” Red Hood says, and then pulls the knife out from between Kate’s ribs and injects her with more wound sealant before she can react.

It hurts worse than the once on her back did.

When Kate is able to think about something besides how every breath burns and how her torso feels like she’s been run over and how...how nice it is to not have a knife sticking out of her. And when she realizes that, she also realizes that she’s been squeezing the hell out of Red Hood’s hand.

“Sorry.” She makes a halfhearted attempt to let go of his hand and sit up, which fails pretty spectacularly.

“Don’t worry. And look how little you bled! That’s amazing. These towels will definitely be reusable.”

Part of Kate wants to tell him that’s gross but part of Kate also realizes that he’s correct, she’s bled...almost less than a normal night.

“I’d say you should go take a shower, get cleaned up, but you need to keep the wounds dry for twelve hours to make sure the liquid sutures take. I’ll go get you some clothes, to change into.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” Kate curbs her disappointment.

He hunches his shoulders, looking like he’s debating it with himself. “What the hell, why not?”

He presses something at the back of his helmet that emits a soft hissss and the whole thing pops out just enough to make it easy to take off.

They stare at one another.

And Kate starts to laugh, her side screaming in protest. “Jason Todd? I thought you were the Red Hood’s accountant, oh my God.”

#whumptober #jason todd #kate bishop #hawkeye #red hood #hawkhood #my stuff #whump #i'm going to revisit stabbed for sure because i got a SUPER great idea for it #while thinking about kintober prompts but whatever don't judge mw #...anyway just ignore me

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squeemcsquee · 6 years

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Guest Post: Cosplay/Crafting Tips from el-draco-bizarro

Since I don’t have my blog open to submission, this was emailed to me a while back by my friend @el-draco-bizarro, with the request that I please post it.

I’m finally doing that (would’ve sooner but I forgot I had it!)

Hello there! @el-draco-bizarro here, and I like to make things. Because of @squeemcsquee here, that has started moving in a cosplay direction. She does love her conventions :) Anyway, I have a few projects I'm working on that I may detail into specific posts, but I thought I might write up a generalized list of do's and don’ts of crafting for anyone out there looking into making something, whether it's for the first time or the 800th. We can always, always learn from others no matter how seasoned you may be at making' stuff, but this will focus on the extreme basics for a beginner.

Do Your Research

This should be obvious, but before I start anything, I almost always hit up the internet to see if anyone else has made what I want to make before. Tutorials are great and YouTube videos are awesome for this, but even if someone has simply posted a photograph of their project with no instructions, that can still be great for inspiration. Unless it's something complicated or specific (like electronics for example), I almost never end up following instructions to the letter-don't despair if you can't find an EXACT layout of what you are specifically trying to make. Read more than one process, and pick out the bits that will work best for you and your abilities! There's usually many ways of making a certain type of thing, and experienced crafters will always have their favorite methods that they will stick to-that won't mean it's the best for you. You may like the material they suggest using, but have a better idea for how you want to assemble it. Or you may not have access to the material or tools they use, but after seeing what they do, you've thought of something similar and more available that you can use to accomplish a similar result. Fantastic! Trying new things is how you grow and if you come up with a great process that you didn't see anywhere else, now you get to be the expert and can share your method with the rest of us so the next person searching has even more options.

Ask For Help

Inevitably, you will encounter a Thing You Want To Do, but won't have the foggiest where to start or what you might need to get there. Or you know what you need but can't afford to buy the tools or materials you 100% need and can't substitute. Reach out! Check with your friends; if it's a small or simple job ("I just need three pieces of this thing cut to x length, but I need a specific saw to do it effectively") see if your friends know of anyone with the tool, and if it won't be a great inconvenience of time or money, see if you can ask them to do it for you. For more difficult or time consuming things, you'll want to know the person already and offer compensation. My rule of thumb is, if it would require the person to follow a short list of simple instructions ("cut this thing into three equal lengths", "sew this thing to this other thing in straight line") that's an ok favor to ask. If it's more complicated than that ("take this sheet of plywood and turn it into these 8 specifically measured shapes") that's not a favor anymore, that's a job and you either need to find someone to pay to handle it, or figure it out yourself with possibly a less complex option (can you sub cardboard for plywood?).

Sometimes you might just need someone to bounce ideas off of though. Talk to a friend; "I want to make this thing...how would you do that?" Many times, they'll have a few great ideas where to start (or bad ones....those are ok too though :) ) and suggestions you may not have thought of on your own. They may be able to suggest a simple solution to a portion you thought would be complex or even insurmountable. Use your people!

Use The Right Tool For The Job

Some stuff just isn't equipped to do other stuff. And that sucks because you may only have the wrong stuff. You need the right scissors to cut cloth, kiddie craft scissors won't work. You need the right kind of saw to cut metal, the right needle to sew leather, the right glue for what you're connecting, and so on. Sometimes the right tool is cheap and easy to get. Sometimes it's neither of those things. It's fine to improvise, but you HAVE to be aware of safety if you decide to deliberately use a tool unsuited to the job you want to do. At best, you can end up with a rough, imprecise version of what you were aiming for. At worst, you will hurt yourself. Know the limitations of what you have. I chose to cut insulation foam with a flat kitchen knife today, knowing that a serrated blade would be better and a hot cutter would be best. I stabbed myself in the hand within a minute and I was even paying attention. It was a result I knew could happen, accepted as a minor issue, and was prepared to deal with when I inevitably bled. The flat kitchen knife tore the heck out of the foam as well; for my project, this is ok and will not hurt the final result but if I needed flat geometric edges, my project would have been severely compromised. Take extra precautions if you're gonna wing it. Understand how your process may affect your materials, especially if those materials are expensive or hard to get. Test things on a small insignificant piece first. Ask someone who is more familiar with those materials or tools if you can. Never try something that could potentially become dangerous while alone if at all; I would say this includes anything to do with fire, electronics, or blades especially. Google will be your friend here to minimize risk...try variations of "can I do x thing with y tool/material" until you find something. If every message board says no, maybe don't risk it. Frequently, advice forums and things will include substitute options if they say it can't be done though so those are a great resource.

Baby Steps

What I mean here is, have realistic expectations about what you can achieve with what you have, experience included. You won't go from 0 to a full set of Spartan armor in a week (although if you do please show me lol). But don't be afraid to fail forward! Every time something doesn't turn out how you expected it to, you've learned what not to do. If what you have is duct tape and cardboard, then that's where you start. Look up what others have done with those things, take the bits you like, discard the advice you don't agree with, and go for it. And sometimes the advice you disagreed with will turn out to have been good advice after all, and you do that next time xD. I'm one of those people that tends to not believe something won't work until I've tried it myself, and sometimes it stings to learn, but at least you learned it and that's one more thing that will make your next project better. For example, cardboard is not great to make masks out of. It's fragile, impossible to repair, and HOT. Trust me. But if you have had an idea to make a mask out of cardboard and think you know how to make it work for you, ignore me and go for it, and maybe let us all know how it went along the way! You may do something that makes it all work that none of the rest of us thought of before. Other people's advice is useful but ultimately, most of it is optional. ((Caveat: not safety advice. ALWAYS take heed of safety advice, otherwise You Will Bleed))

Fake It ‘Til You Make It

Bouncing off the above advice, many times you can do what you know with what you have even if you don't end up with a "professional" result. All cosplay is valid! Your papier-mâché mask may be lumpy. Your weapon prop may be a dowel rod covered with colored duct tape. It may not look as great as the costume made by the professional tailor with an expensive sewing machine and access to a machine shop for props. Less experience is not bad, it's a stepping stone. You know what you don't like about what you made last time, and you may have an idea how to improve on it for next time. And next time. And next time. And before you know it you're running a blog specifically about how you get such great looking results out of cardboard and duct tape that blow other people away. Make it work for you and strut your stuff! In my experience, you can do so, so much with just basic materials that other "better" crafters may not have even thought of to try because they're so used to their ways. As a good example, look at the cosplay tag on this blog and check out the Glow Cloud. We got so many compliments on that thing at the con. Lots of people stopped us to say how cool it was and to marvel that they could never have come up with such a great result. You want to know what that's made out of? That's a clear umbrella with three (3) battery-powered strings of colored Christmas lights taped to it. We then spray-glued a boatload of Poly-Fil to it, and found a fluffy light up jacket on Wish to go with it. It was not complicated or even that time-consuming, and I felt like a cheater any time someone said it was special. But honestly? While I COULD have rigged all my own electronics on a hand-made structure etc, it would have take a LOT more time, expertise, and probably money than I had and it still wouldn't have looked any different than a 12 dollar umbrella and some Christmas lights. Never make from scratch what it just as easy and cheap to get premade unless you have specific requirements that the premade can't deliver or can't be altered to include. And never let anyone tell you your cosplay isn't as good because you didn't personally make it from scratch! That's BS elitist advice. Ever hear that dieting advice "Eat whatever you want, and if anyone tells you otherwise, eat them too?" That applies here. There will be those who say you can NEVER make something out of duct tape because that's not good crafting. Or professional. Or any other bogus reason just because they look down on it. Eat them and make your duct tape thing. Simple and cheap is fine and is way less stressful than trying to pursue something complex and expensive. Make what you can, but you don't have to have a big flashy costume to cosplay. Paint a question mark on a t-shirt and call it good. Maybe get a cheap wig and some tights and spend the day comfy instead of lugging around a heavy complicated-and/or-expensive prop. If you're not having fun what's the point? And above all -

YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE GOOD AT CRAFTS TO BE GREAT AT COSPLAY

Now get out there and make stuff!

#guest post #cosplay tips #crafting tips #general cosplay advice #friend post

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kisuminight · 6 years

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The first time they met, Evoluan was sprawled out against a cliff face, ears ringing and sight blurred by an explosion that had thrown him into solid rock. A figure, white and blue and sun gold, appeared like a vague break in the dismal, smoke-stained sky. Glacially, the ringing resolved into a bell-sweet voice. “Are you with me?”

Stupidly, he shuttered his eyes, but nothing focused. Aching fingers clenched and released clumsily. A low keen built in his throat, and half-remembered protocols operating more because they’d been drilled into his head than out of conscious thought sought to smother the noise before it ever left his throat. Never show your weakness.

“Shh, it’s okay. Hold on, I’m going to get this shrapnel out, and your healing should take care of the rest.” Soft flowers of pressure bloomed, tracing down towards his abdomen, gaining size the further down they trailed. For a moment they disappeared, then he world dropped out from under him with a sucking spin.

Something frosted and sweet pressed against Evoluan’s lips, and it took a little mental fumbling to realize that he needed to relax his lips from the vicious snarl he’d twisted them into if he wanted to drink. With a shaky breath he began to sip, feeling the icy tingle sweep through his body to push off fever-hot pain and confusion. “There we go. Wait here, I’m going to search for other survivors.” Sky-and-sun-and white paused there for an instant to smooth a comforting hand down his arm, but left as said.

Bemused, Evoluan blinked up at the dirty sky, attempting to reconcile smears of color into something more closely resembling sight. Wingbeats, soft and sparse, thrummed over already-recovering hearing. By their occasional occurrence, his rescuer was using them to get around; quick burst of flight to cover short distances and cross the pits and scars and boulders left behind by the succession of bomb-blasts.

How strange to see a healer out here, so far from the main hot zones. Surely enough time hadn’t passed for one to have been sent from headquarters—and who’d been left to call for help anyway? Maybe a diverted healer from another site—but Hope’s Point needed theirs more, and everywhere else was further away than base.

There were no neutral healers left after the Will of Twilit Stars decreed that anyone not siding with the Empire would be treated as a member of the Commonwealth. Even if some survived until the Will of Moon’s Pull revoked the ruling, they’d surely have dug too deep a hole and pulled it in after themselves to be flitting about on forsaken, unimportant battlefields.

A shift of too-heavy weight on newly made gravel. A Commonwealth soldier? No. Blue-white-gold-red. Red? Blood. It left a sickly tang in the air, breaking past even the ever-present taste of ash. A broken body was propped beside him, trailing sticky smears over rock.

“Hey. You awake? Squeeze my hand for yes.” Fingers curled into his own, long and tacky. The red extended up to the elbows? Probably. But it was the only red on her body. No badge, but no hint of blue or black, either. Well, the right color blue, anyway. Not Imperial, then. But no obvious Commonwealth colors, either.

Choosing to take a risk, Evoluan closed his fingers. “‘m ‘wake.” The slurring speech rasped its way out, and he couldn’t shield the way his field flared out with an echo of pain.

“Good, that’s good. You’re going to be okay.” Fingers clasped more firmly together, promise tight. “Can you use your field deliberately?” Better than speaking. He conveyed agreement with an extended field, brushing it out to dance over… huh, four wings, not two.

“Wonderful.” Fingers eased out of his grasp, returning to lock them around a—a wrist. Pulse fluttered there, weak but steady. “If his pulse changes in any way, please flare your field to notify me. It doesn’t have to be too big, I can still teek you from the other side. Are you capable of this?”

The blood came from faint scales torn loose. Tsuné, he remembered, so excited to be going on his first mission. Assent. Gratitude. This healer didn’t have to keep going into the blast zone in search of more survivors. Standard procedure forbit it, with such a high risk of more traps and secondary explosions.

“Thank you.” A brush of feathers, and then he was alone. Almost.

Counting heartbeats hurt less than the dizzying swirl of the sky to blurred eyesight. Automatically, his own breathing and heartbeat began to fall into the same rhythm, and Evoluan almost laughed at the way he’d been redirected so carefully back onto training even his superiors didn’t know he had.

Carefully, trying to keep from alarming the healer, he ran his field over Tsuné as well. Tsuné felt subtly off compared to before. Most scalia missing, scorched off, and the few left charred until they cracked and bled, the kid probably wouldn’t last the night. That he’d lasted this long was a minor miracle. Still, the pulse never faltered, and Evoluan settled in to wait.

This time, he tried to find the movement of color amidst swirling gradients of settling dust and stone. Glimpses of pure white slid amidst them like a fish underwater, scattered and confusing. The world seemed to blend and warp around; rock floating and moving, mobiles in glimmering crystal and shading red to dusk-brown.

The rumble-grind of boulder against boulder, and suddenly bright white, like a cloud touched down to earth. For a moment it vanished, swallowed beneath the broken, shattered mess. It emerged and began making its way back towards them.

Another body found its way to Evoluan’s other side. “I’m sorry. The other two are dead.” Broken, quiet breathing. He couldn’t see the tears, but he recognized the sound of stifled sobs from nearly every stay in the Commonwealth’s prisons. Someone so shattered by a couple of deaths clearly didn’t belong in the war.

Whether or not they were involved anyway was something he’d have to check on when everything stopped being so fuzzy.

Cold brushes against hot skin, questing fingers pausing over his temples. “There’s some damage here. I can’t outright fix it, but I can make it so that your own healing recognizes how to fix it.” Well good; Evoluan didn’t even trust their own healers mucking around with his brain, let alone an unknown.

Flickers of light, blue and gold lines etched themselves across his vision. Fingers burned hot, needle points of fire stabbing behind his eyes. Abruptly the pain ceased, and this time, the blurriness blinked away had more to do with shed tears than something being wrong with him.

“How’s that? I know your healing is much more effective than—” faint breathing skipped to a stop. White fluttered, cloud-bright wings trembled, thrown back in anguish. The tremulous keen started up, and all attention immediately diverted to the faltering survivor. Bemused, Evoluan watched the movement flow in the complete opposite direction he expected.

Beneath his fingers, Tsuné’s pulse never wavered.

Power built and fell. He tracked each fluctuation with his field, and the way lines of light burned themselves over his steadily clearing vision. Still, smears sharpened into blurs, and then into vague lines. The resulting effect look a little like a child’s attempt to fill in a drawing, but finally Evoluan got a change to see his savior.

Long white hair streaked with blood where it’d been pushed out of the way. Skin of pure gold, gleaming like metal but rippling like living flesh as she plunged hands through the chest to attempt to stir the heart back to beating.

Two curving lines of four great wings bent over the patient, but the way they arched extended one side of the protection out to cover Evoluan and Tsuné as well. A declaration of defense as firm as fortress walls. So long as they recognized a healer, and checked their shots, no one under this woman’s care would be killed.

For a moment, it seemed like she would succeed. Lungs stretched for a shuddering gasp, coughing through the first pulse of an awakened heart. Light changed, shading from bright, aggressive green to a paler, muted white. She’d found the field commander, Evoluan realized belatedly.

Then all the vitals crashed, and the healer’s voice devolved into static tears as she dove again to try and save the failing life. “No! No! Don’t you dare die now!” Wings flared wide and up as the pleading shatter-stepped into another dialect all together and light flared like a fallen star.

Beneath desperate hands, life revived, fragile and tremulous. But the minute the healer attempted to lift her hands again everything took a nosedive and she had to place her hands immediately back down, keeping a steady circulation of power through him.

Most healers would’ve abandoned him for dead by now, saving the extra power for anyone, everyone who needed it more, who had the highest change of survival. The only exception was the command team, and field commander didn’t rank anywhere near general, or even a general’s direct subordinates.

Of course, then there was also the sheer amount of power she poured out with her very touch. He wouldn’t even have a scar, from her power and his healing. Without her help, he alone would have survived, and it wouldn’t have been pretty. The Empire could use her, and then they could see about teaching her triage, and saving your power for the bigger emergency.

There was always a bigger emergency.

“Can you hold out until backup arrives?” Evoluan’s rasp grated along his throat, but the majority of his other damage had been dealt with, so some of the power curled itself there, reaching out to keep himself from coughing up blood. He wondered how long that would take—this wasn’t an official mission or patrol, so it could be hours before base sent someone out to check on them.

The healer looked up, eyes clear and calm for someone holding another back from death’s door. “They’re already here.” Say what? The golden motes of dust in the slowly growing sunlight flushed a crazy violet-magenta, and Evoluan finally saw the glitter of silver, splintered by three slashes of red, blue, and deep umber, branded into the base of her throat.

The wrong color, maybe, but Evoluan knew those lines. Had traced them a thousand times over, with awl and knife and braided leather, because even the strongest of the Commonwealth would shiver and tremble to near-breaking, to be subject to such gentle respect after a hard session.

“Don’t worry,” the healer (seductress, tempter, blood witch) smiled, eyes gentle to mask their cruelty. Evoluan’s healing helped him fight, but he had no resistance to whatever drug had been pumped into the air. Lines began to blur again, swirling into a sucking vortex—that resolved itself into Logos, as perpetually annoyed as ever. Immediately, Evoluan checked his attack.

“What happened?” Shouldn’t he be waking up in a Commonwealth prison? Not that he minded not having to break back out, but the Commonwealth weren’t known for just letting their enemies go.

Logos stopped, eyes wary and worried for all that his body language was rough. “That’s what we need to ask you. Two of your team are dead, but their bodies were pulled from the rubble and laid out at rest, and yourself and the remaining members apparently sustained no injuries.” Normal for Evoluan, maybe, but no the others. It should be impossible that the field commander didn’t light up like a beacon.

“I remember a healer with the Commonwealth badge.” But they weren’t prisoners. Why were they just let here? “I suspect we’re compromised in some way.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Logos’ ability with diagnostics could be considered the best in the world, fitting for the best healer in the world and one of the Will of the Empire’s closest friends. But why had they pulled him for a routine check over of a not-mission gone wrong, no matter how strange the scene? Evoluan wasn’t that important.

Needles prickled over his skin as the diagnostic spell did its work, far more caustic than the less potent diagnostic charms usually handed out to the grunts. Which was another checkmark in the what-the-Pit box, because you’d think a Commonwealth healer out to sabotage the enemy would at least choose someone more important than a field commander and half a fire team.

“Just like the rest,” Logos confirmed. He sighed angrily, vicious annoyance clear in every sharp motion as he packed up his kit, careful to avoid shredding everything as his claws flexed with every sharp movement.

Evoluan’s tail twitched, curling up to rest on his lap, blade swaying in agitation. What does that mean he wanted to snarl, but Evoluan remained mindful of their respective positions. He didn’t have the rank to argue back. Not yet, anyway.

“Relax kid, there’s nothing wrong with you.” Logos paused in his sorting, eyeing the way Evoluan was moving. “That’s the problem. You were fixed up without even attempt at sabotage. Though I’m going to mandate you see Chime.”

The mental healer? Why? Sure, Evoluan had a run-in with the Commonwealth, but the healer apparently wasn’t a monster like the rest—

The rest. Propaganda at its finest, and Evoluan in possession of a story that could shatter the whole illusion, or at least put a dent in it. The ISO would be getting involved; in fact, had probably already issued orders if Evoluan judged by Logos’ current temper and rumors about his opinions on them.

#my writing #project: updating the medium #the continued adventures of Whitewings and Evoluan #mentions of:#bombs #torture #people dying #messing with people's heads #airborne sedatives #almost every character has a different non-human trait #the metal skin bit is not an exageration #Whitewings is literally a living statue #chronological first meeting #Evoluan's morals are not your morals

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