1596/Getting shot is very inconvenient

Getting shot is very inconvenient
Date of Scene:	17 February 2015
Location:	The Citadel - Field of Trials
Synopsis:	Sanary does a dumb thing with a shotgun and gets healing help from Caster and Psalm!
Cast of Characters:	181, 701, Sanary Rondel

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Sanary Rondel has posed:
    The idea was sound... Sort of. Get shot to get an idea of how it feels, remove the bullets, and patch up the wounds. It was supposed to be a simple matter, but Sanary definitely didn't expect it to hurt /that/ much.

    Now, she's lying on her back in the middle of an empty room. There's quite a bit of blood covering the front of her coat and the floor, but she doesn't appear to be in any immediate danger any more. Breathing is stable, if somewhat ragged, and she appears to be prying bits of buckshot out of her midsection rather painfully with her fingers.

Circe (701) has posed:
An echoing voice speaks from somewhere nearby, at about the same time that a stream of red motes of energy begin to gather. "My, my~. That doesn't look very efficient." The energy motes seem almost like cinders or embers as they transform into a dusky-skinned redhead in purple robes, lying on the air as though she were resting on the beach. Her crimson eyes observe Sanary's predicament with mild disapproval. "You may call me Caster. A pleasure to meet you. Do you not at least have sterile metal tools to work with?" She heaves a sigh and waves a hand, causing an ornately-painted brown clay pot to appear in mid-air and float down to her ally.

Inside is a clear fluid which, while feeling uncomfortably cold to the touch at first, also produces numbness in the affected area and at the same time kills some of any bacteria that may have gotten into the wound.

Not quite fully effective in that latter regard, as it is meant to eliminate pain primarily.

"What type of healing do you practice exactly?" Caster asks with a mix of curiosity and incredulousness. She sees neither surgical instruments nor magical sparkles here.

Sanary Rondel has posed:
The girl on the floor takes a slow breath as she listens to the voice from behind her, managing a weak chuckle before wincing painfully at the sudden movement. "No... No, it's not. I'm more of a field healer than a doctor, anyway. Don't need to read as... At all that way." Another chuckle and another wince. She does manage to get the white coat off, at least, giving herself a bit more room to move in the cheap brown tunic worn underneath that garment.

"Sanary. Same to you, Miss Caster. I won't always have tools with me if I'm on a mission, so I need to get used to doing it all with my hands." She doesn't even seem to notice the pot floating above her, whether it's because of the eyepatch covering one eye or the faded blankness of the exposed eye.

"Now is that some kind of mission name or just a normal thing where you're from?"

Circe (701) has posed:
"Ah, yes, you're the one who cannot see, aren't you? I've known Oracles whose powers awakened thanks to such a 'gift'." She sighs and floats closer, eventually sitting cross-legged in the air next to the 'field healer'. "Hold still. I'm going to pour the pain-remover onto you. It will produce some numbness, but not enough to make it impossible to remove the fragments. But that is honestly something that requires specialized tools to do properly. The pieces can be very, very small. Too small to be seen, let alone groped for. You could bleed out before you got them all, or wind up healing with the fragments still inside of you. depending on the type of bullet." Caster pours the brown jug's contents onto Sanary's belly, bit by bit. She does it steadily, but in measured amounts.

"Caster is my class designation. I am a Servant - a sort of magical ghost, you could say - summoned back into existence in order to participate in a war for a wish-granting artifact. It is important to keep our true identities hidden, so we go by our Class name. Though even revealing that can betray information to the enemy they can use against us, so I've come up with an alias I use with those not from the Confederacy. 'Solanda Songsteel'. You're certain you do not wish any assistance? Removing bullets in the field is really not recommended without tools or magic."

Sanary Rondel has posed:
Sanary Rondel draws in a sharp breath at the suddenly dampness on her midsection, shifting around somewhat uncomfortably despite the pain subsiding. "That is... Nn. Much better than the stuff back home." She sniffs the air lightly to try and catch a whiff of whatever it is, and she doesn't seem to disapprove at the very least. "I guess I could bring some tools along in that case. I knew this one guy that had an arrow heal into his leg... Made it really hard for him to kick anyone after that."

    Thankfully, being in the training room alleviated some of the blind girl's worries somewhat. By the time they would leave, the injuries would be gone along with any evidence that she had ever gotten shot at all. Still, the experience would be invaluable as long as she made sure to actually pay attention to what Caster was doing.

    "Do names have that much power? In your world, I mean. Because it's not a huge thing in mine, I don't think..." She takes a long breath before sitting up, barely even flinching as she continues to pick out the bits of buckshot still embedded in her. "Well... You know any ways to get these out with magic? Could be useful learning how to do that, too."

Psalm (181) has posed:
    A voice, sleepy yet vibrant, echoes up from one of the corridors into the training area. "Solanda, are you harassing the staff again? I thought I told you- Oh, oh, new people."
    The voice is suddenly sharper, more focused, and a beautiful contralto. "Good morning, young lady. I see my Servant ahs found a diversion this morning."

Circe (701) has posed:
"Wellll~," Caster lilts. "A Servant is someone who has a legend associated with them. A hero from ages past who is known far and wide, long after their original death. That legend may not always be accurate to who they were, but our capabilities are tied to that legend. Knowing our true identity can allow an enemy to guess at and potentially prepare for our unique powers, or even make use of any... Fatal flaws that might also be part of our legend. But honestly, knowing anyone's name is a form of power. For instance, if I called your name, I would instantly have your attention. You might even stop what you were doing to respond or at least to acknowledge me. By the simple utterance of syllables, I have gained power over you. Have you ever heard of someone besmirching another's reputation? Of committing fraud with their identity? Or of commanding great influence by acting in a hero's, villain's, or ruler's name? All of these things are accomplished with names, and nothing further. It is a simple form of magic, but one of the oldest. Even the gods take notice when their name is invoked."

At the question of removing bullet fragments with magic, Caster hmmms and says, "I could attempt to teach you, though my method of magecraft is likely different from that used by most. I could more readily instruct you in how to concoct a potion that would perform the task for you-" the sorceress trails off when she senses Psalm's presence and hears her voice moments later. "Greetings, Magatha. I was aiding one of our new allies with her healing training. She wished to discover the best way to remove bullets after being shot with them."

Sanary Rondel has posed:
Another healer? Or a friend of Caster's, at least. Sanary turns slightly at first before dropping back onto her back with a painful thud, although she does seem to be considerably more mobile than she was moments earlier. "Hey there. Caster's not bothering me, don't worry. Helping a lot, even." Another light chuckle. The girl certainly seems amused despite all the blood, and her movements in removing the bullet fragments have even sped up considerably after the application of the salve.

    A slight frown crosses her face as she listens to Caster, nodding after a moment and wincing just a bit as a particularly large chunk of steel is pried out of her hip. "I think I get it now. Hn... Even here, though? It's not like we're in Union territory or something." The troubled frown subsides eventually, at least, as her focus returns to picking out the chunks and poking around at the mostly-numb wounds.

    "Gross.. Heh. Won't know if I can't use that type of magic if I don't try first, right?"

Psalm (181) has posed:
    Psalm sighs at the young lady on the ground attempting to do her own field medical work, and then looks up at Caster... and then back at the girl. "You know that's not really... neccessary. I think you' be better served trying that on other people first before you attempt it on yourself."
    She shuffles over to kneel next to Sanary and starts to hum faintly. There's a tingle in the girl's hands, and... she'll find it easier to sense where those pellets are. Song of Competance, yo.

Circe (701) has posed:
"Let's just say that shortly after being summoned one of our... 'Unofficial allies' did something foolish on the multiversal broadband concerning identifying me. I have no doubt that my identity will be discovered eventually, but for now, it is best kept quiet for as long as possible. Not everyone can be trusted with all information." When Psalm moves forward to assist, Caster floats around to the opposite side, dismissing the jug of anesthetic in a flash of light and a sound like air suddenly blowing through a tube. "My magecraft utilizes Divine Words, the language of gods, which is impossible for human vocal cords to replicate. I do not use incantations or magic circuits for my thaumaturgy, and most modern magi of my world are the exact opposite. Instructing you would be highly challenging for both of us. Most of my healing is accomplished through potions and tonics, and that would be the ideal thing to teach you about."

She nods in agreement with Psalm and says, "That's what I told her, but even so. Learning to deal with the pain has its own benefits." Says miss 'hates discomfort of any kind and would never willingly endure pain'.

Sanary Rondel has posed:
"That came up a few times on the comms, yeah... There's always other wounds to test that on, anyway." The blind girl lets out a confident laugh and raises an eyebrow slightly at the humming. She doesn't seem to notice the correlation between that and the sensation in her hands, but her movements certainly seem to be more confident. Between the detection boost and the salve easing her pain, she finally manages to dig out the remaining buckshot.

    "There we go... Ah. I'll just call you Caster, then. Can't really give you anything but my word even if you did tell me, anyway." She laughs again and keeps poking about at the wounds, twitching slightly despite not seeming to be in too much pain because of the anesthetic. Her mood seems to lift slightly at the explanation of the Divine Words, a confident smirk crossing her face.

    "I think I can at least figure out that much. I don't even understand how mine works, so doing it without incantating should be just fine."

Psalm (181) has posed:
    A little smile from Psalm as she stops humming and then kneels down next to Sanary. "For the official record, for now Miss Caster is very definately my Sister, Solanda Songsteel. And I am Magatha Songsteel, the Psalm of Deneith, Dragonmarked of Sentinal. But you can call me Maggie~ Though you really should figure out how your magic works, eventually."
    The bard gingerly helps Sanary up to a sitting position, and starts to hum again. This time the music is something different, and the other healer will feel the familiar sensation of magical healing, the slightly unnatural sensation of flesh moving and knitting itself back together. Not unlike her own magic.

Circe (701) has posed:
Caster shrugs. Even if it can not be seen by the one she is shrugging to. "It is innate magecraft. Explanations would not be viable, and I do not know how else to instruct you. Unless I distilled my knowledge and ability into an elixir and then you drank it, chances are low that you would be able to do what I can do. As well... My thaumaturgy requires a great deal of prana. Even a powerful mortal magus could not properly employ my brand of sorcery. They would simply lack the reserves for it. Still, I will think on this, and see if I can discover some method. I like to test my limits, you see."

She rolls over onto her back in the air - while still seated as though she were on the ground - and drifts away. "Yes, Solanda is the alias I go by publically. If you are ever in doubt, call me by that. Unless you require further aid in treating your injuries, I think I am going to go wash up. I recommend you do the same when you have the chance. You do not wish to sit about in your own blood for too long, after all~."

Sanary Rondel has posed:
"Solanda and Maggie. Got it." Sanary sits up with some difficulty, still somewhat dazed despite the lack of visible pain. "I guess. Would make it easier to try and actually learn more if I even can." She presses her palms against the wounds at her midsection and starts breathing at a more controlled pace, her own healing combining with the bard's in restoring the flesh to its original non-shot state.

    Letting out a relieved sigh, the blind girl closes her exposed eye and slouches in place slightly. "I don't wanna steal your power or anything. Er... I'm guessing what that elixir thing would do, anyway. I just want to learn how to get stronger and do it. Whether it's magic or just figuring out how to see things again so I can get back to using an axe..." She grins slightly and springs onto her feet, staying upright and almost steady for a few moments before falling over onto her side.

     "Always have to push those limits. I think... Yeah, I think I'm good now. Just need to rest up a little before dragging myself out of here."