His hands were already working, tearing cloth to expose the open wound down the man's side. This was familiar, he’d seen similar injuries before though not nearly as gnarly as poor Danny. He reached for the lapels of the artificer’s jacket, yelling his name, “I got you bud, I got you. Ruthie’s not going anywhere. You’re gonna be fine,” he glared at his father, the suggestion not even up for discussion.
“Just fucking hold it as best you can,” he’d growl, palms rubbing together as he inhaled a number of quick breaths to get him started. Danny whimpered pitifully, skin ghostly pale, his eyes rolled around the scene in a haze, unable to comprehend that a chunk of his side had a large fist size hole Ruth was slowly working to piece back together.
Even as he wove the surgical sigils and signs, muttering incantations and invoking the gods themselves at one point, the artificer paled further. “Don’t you fucking do it, Danny. I haven’t got the time for your bullshit! We gotta get back to the Stoner, or Nairn is going to kills you, kill us fucking both. You’re not allowed to leave me in the shit!”
Removing a palm from the sticky flesh, Ruth planted it to the ground, index finger marking the outline of a barrier, with the inner sigil, one of rejuvenation. A bold move, but no-one ever really gave him the sort of praise unless it worked. Planting his palm over it, he just hoped it would be one of those few times where lady luck was on his side… for once?
“Do not lecture me on responsibility and walking away.” Jaw clenched, Ruth tried his best case plan to buy them some further time to stabilise the Coterie whelp.
“Just fucking hold it as best you can,” he’d growl, palms rubbing together as he inhaled a number of quick breaths to get him started. Danny whimpered pitifully, skin ghostly pale, his eyes rolled around the scene in a haze, unable to comprehend that a chunk of his side had a large fist size hole Ruth was slowly working to piece back together.
Even as he wove the surgical sigils and signs, muttering incantations and invoking the gods themselves at one point, the artificer paled further. “Don’t you fucking do it, Danny. I haven’t got the time for your bullshit! We gotta get back to the Stoner, or Nairn is going to kills you, kill us fucking both. You’re not allowed to leave me in the shit!”
Removing a palm from the sticky flesh, Ruth planted it to the ground, index finger marking the outline of a barrier, with the inner sigil, one of rejuvenation. A bold move, but no-one ever really gave him the sort of praise unless it worked. Planting his palm over it, he just hoped it would be one of those few times where lady luck was on his side… for once?
“Do not lecture me on responsibility and walking away.” Jaw clenched, Ruth tried his best case plan to buy them some further time to stabilise the Coterie whelp.
03-02-2024, 03:26 PM
