Scene #1880: Ariah Visits Lute in Medical

Owner	Pose
Lute	Lute is currently laying down in a bed in medical. It's actually only been fairly recently that he got transfered here. Some basic care has been done upon him by the medical staff of the Empirical, a Galatic Empire aligned spaceship. But, still, there is a fair amount of care still to be given. His right arm is bound with wrappings right now, due to it being broken. He still has a number of wounds all over his body as well. Burn wounds from explosions, and spots where naval gunfire hit him. Thankfully, the healing process has already started. But, still, he is in a fair amount of pain. He just stares at the television in his room, sighing. He knows someone is going to come to treat his wounds soon, so he isn't bothering to look for anything /good/ on television. Just watching whatever channel the last person left it on, to keep his mind off the pain. In the chaos of the battle last night, and with loss of memory due to head wounds, he forgot who had offered to prepare a bed in medical for him. So, he'll be surprised to see who it is, no matter the person. He lets out a groan of frustration. He's still pissed about what happened. And he just can't wait to get out of here and get going again.
Ariah	"Lute. At last," comes the voice of the dedicated treatment specialist. Ariah stands at the door, staff in one hand, notes in the other. Her voice is just about the same as it is on the radio, thickly accented in French and as cold as a Regice's backside. "I have not had the luxury of meeting you personally. Judging by the report here and the condition you're in... you are as durable as expected. I am Ariah Olivie, and I will be healing you." The witch looks at the instruments in the room, glances up at the television, and then back to Lute. "I am displeased that I am treating burns, shrapnel, and a broken bone instead of motion sickness and an overdose of sugar due to carnival treats... Likely as displeased as you are. I had hoped you would have a pleasant afternoon and not an ambush."
Lute	Lute sits up straight as Ariah arrives. Careful, of course, not to hurt himself in doing so. But, as he looks at her, and hears her name, he's a bit surprised. He isn't quite sure what he expected, but it wasn't quite this. He had heard the terms 'witch' and 'vampire' before, if he remembers right? Well, she's far better looking than /most/ of the witches he has seen in the past. He's used to them usually being old hags. "...Huh. So, you're Ariah? ...Well, nice to meet you. Thanks for coming to treat me." He ponders, a bit. Magical healing. He knows that can sometime be miserable. But, he also knows it can be better than technological means sometimes. He sighs a little, hoping that her healing is more of a good, serene feeling. And, for a moment, the thought of two specific healers floats through his head. "...Well. Yeah. I'm not happy about the shrapnel and burns either. And the broken arm, well. It's been a long time since someone has tried that on me. ...A shame how the date turned out, but. Hell, how was I supposed to know I was walking into a trap? Everything seemed just... so normal." A sigh. "...Thanks for the sympathy, anyways."
Ariah	She's also short. Her just under five-foot stature might be unexpected, too. But she certainly carries herself a bit taller, with cool confidence in her healing abilities. "It may be your reputation. But I am sure you need no lectures on taking caution in the future when invited out by strangers." She puts the paperwork down and moves to one of the cabinets. "You do not have any allergies to magic, do you? Mana? Pure energy? Certain anesthetics?" Her questions come as she withdraws vials and needles. "I assume the triage team removed the foreign objects and shrapnel so all that remains are the larger wounds?" she glances at the notes again, making sure she hasn't missed anything in the intervening hours between the skirmish and Lute's return to the Citadel. "Unfortunately, it can be too much to ask for a normal day sometimes. Perhaps you should take Harp to the amusement park sometime. Or Miss Serracenia. I gather she has some interest in you?" Ariah inquires.
Lute	Lute shrugs a bit, considering, "Well. I'll be honest, I've had girls ask me out like this before, and it turned out alright. But, yeah. I'll take greater caution in the future. ...I'm going to assume most of the Union is actively seeking me out right now. I think I pissed a lot of them off, which mean I must be doing something right." He thinks back for a bit. Magical allergies. Hrm. "...Well. I don't know of any allergies, magical or otherwise. ...But I've got a condition where I don't own my soul, which I think you know. So if any of your magic works on souls being owned by their owner, it might not work? I dunno. ...And yeah, they got all the shrapnel off of me. But my wounds keep reopening if I move too much, and I don't wanna wait the full time for them to heal." But, somethig catches him off guard a bit. A date with Sarracenia to an amusement park is something he would normally consider. But for Ariah to suggest that catches him off guard. "...I actually wasn't sure if people knew about Sarracenia and I. I mean, well. I feel it's obvious, but at the same time, well, we're not trying to bring it up a lot. ...She has mixed feelings on me, anyways. ...She doesn't like how I'm, well. Rather open with relationships. I mean, she might go for it if it was just Harp and I, but there is also..." He pauses. He wants to talk about this, but he isn't sure how much he should say about who he is dating. Though, from how he stops himself from speaking, it seems pretty obvious he'd tell if given a gentle push to do so. He continues on, as if he never stopped, "...Though, hey. Maybe I could take you to an amusement park one day. You're fairly good looking yourself. Though, I don't really know you all that well either" But, he lets out an uncomfortable sigh, "...Though I have mixed feelings on your 'vampire' thing. Like, almost all of the vampires I have met, I've disliked. ...I don't mean offense by it, it's just... A lot of the vampires I've met have been psychopaths. ...You seem fairly normal, though. ...I'm sounding rude, aren't I." He thinks back, though. The vampires he knew in the past were, quite frankly, insane. Alucard. Seras Victoria. Millenium. And that's just vampires from a specific /world/. He can't think of many he liked. Hell, even half vampires like D and Noh have pissed him off in the past.
Ariah	"It was not terribly difficult to gather Miss Sarracenia's feelings towards you with how she spoke on the radio about you when the subject of your soul came up. I am not well-versed in the art of relationships, but there were telltale signs. You merely confirmed them for me," Ariah states simply. She hadn't intended on 'trapping' Lute, but that's the way it seems to have turned out. Ariah chooses a pair of vials and starts to carefully mix the compounds into a third, working on the anesthetic. She listens as she fills a syringe with the cloudy liquid, brow quirking. The witch turns her head, looking over her shoulder at Lute. "I am not sure I am the sort to take to an amusement park. It does not sound like my sort of liesure time. And if I wish to be flung about on carnival rides... I'll launch myself out of one of Lord Dracula's trebuchets again. When you have jumped out of as many planes as I have... a roller coaster seems dull by comparison..." she says quietly. Again her cool, flat tone, though there seems to be a hint of amusement. "Hardly rude," she replies, "The attitudes and personalities of vampires are as varied as those of humans, but even in my world there are terribly few of us. You have had the misfortune of meeting ones that do not appeal, it sounds, even with the vastness of the multiverse." The platinum-haired witch is all business, it seems, and soon approaches the bedside with the syringe in hand. "I will begin by administering local anesthetic to you so I may seal your wounds. Those at risk of excessive bleeding will be handled first, namely the shrapnel and lacerations. Then your broken limb. The burns will be treated last, though my magic is somewhat less effective on such wounds. I will provide a topical ointment for those and do what I can for the worst of them. Any questions?" Whether or not she's annoyed or amused by the prospect of Lute, with his reputation, asking her out on a date is difficult to tell.
Lute	Lute looks away from Ariah a bit, towards the ceiling. Yeaaaah, he supposes it really is obvious. That bit on the radio? He almost forgot about it. He chuckles a bit, trying to keep a good attitude about things, "...Well. I guess it's probably just obvious in general, then. Makes me wonder how obvious some of my other relationships have been. ...Though I'm only seeing, let's see... Five women seriously right now, if you include my wife? So, hey, decent odds people can guess at least /one/ of them." He looks at Ariah due to the comment about finding carnival rides boring. He just grins, "...Well. I'll be honest. Most of the time I'm not scared of any of the rides, at all. I might be mortal, but I still can survive a lot more than the carnival rides can do to me, easily. Some women like an excuse to cling to me, though, so doing something terrifying to them can help with that. Though, really, the amusement park idea is just one idea of where I could take you." Even as he says this, though, it's hard to tell if Lute is serious or not. Which is a bit unusual. Generally, he is /very/ obvious. But his efforts right now are somewhat half hearted. His tone, a bit muted. But, he lays back a little, calmly. Only a hint of a smile is on his face now. "...Well. Good to know that you don't hold the bias against me. ...Though, no sneaking any of my blood, okay? I don't think we're that close yet." Yeah, that last bit is definitely in jest. But, he continues on, "...And, go ahead. I don't really have any questions, but sounds like you know what you're doing. I assume even with the topical ointment it'll hurt a bit, though. I mean, it usually does."
Ariah	"Odds of guessing one are terribly high, if Harp is included," Ariah says rather dryly. She's not a machine, by any stretch, but she might take some things a bit literal. "Beyond Harp and Miss Serracenia, I cannot say that I am aware of the other three or their identities." She starts to poke with the needle, peeling back cloth and, with surgical precision, injecting the anesthetic where, for the moment, it's most needed for the naval gun and shrapnel wounds. "It is obvious how much punishment you can take, in more ways than one. In truth, I imagine the sorts of places I would like to visit would be more boring for you. Unless you count 'abandoned' ruins with books and artifacts... I prefer a more academic approach to things." The witch pauses, looking up. "No offense meant," she states. She can't tell if he's serious or not either, not exactly well versed in the arts of flirting, as she mentioned earlier. All business. When she's done making the first run of anesthetic applications, she nods, "It will hurt a bit, yes. The arm will hurt a lot. But you will be better, and quicker, I promise you that Lute." Her head then cocks to the side, "I made sure to eat before coming down here. And I only feed if I have permission. Or if I'm ... otherwise forcibly coaxed." There's a faintly bitter tone in her otherwise neutral voice, likely memories of her two -very- public bites during the WMAT coming to the forefront.
Lute	As the needle comes in, Lute looks away. Yeah, he's a bit scared of them. Shouldn't be too much of a surprise. Lots of people hate needles. But, as he looks away, he considers, "...Eeeeh. I'd tell you who, but I imagine it'd just bore you anyways." He tries not to laugh, though, at a bit of what she said. He doesn't want to make his wounds worse. But, he just looks at Ariah, a bit more cheerfully, "You have no idea how much time I've spent in abandoned ruins, and with books. ...Granted, I didn't realize /either/ until I got my true memories back. But. I'm a researcher who focuses on Legendary Pokemon, and their connections to the ancient world. I've spent a /lot/ of hours looking at ruins all over my world, to find the legends. So many hours in books, comparing mythology of others. I only managed to find one actual artifact. But it let me get Giratina. ...Hell, I found my Unown by unearthing an ancient ruin, and found a ritual there to bind a large number of them to me at once. So yeah, I am the ruins and academic type." And then, he frowns a bit, "...Sorry, didn't mean to offend you. I've known some vampires who have had trouble controlling themselves. You really don't seem the type. You seem incredibly in control of your own emotions and hunger. Besides, really, if you /were/... I doubt you'd be allowed to work in medical." His frown shifts into a smile, though, "...Though, I guess, as long as you warn me, I'd be fine with you draining some of my blood. At least, when I'm healthier."
Ariah	Ariah wraps both hands, gloved of course, those nice blue ones, around her staff. Whether or not the /staff/ is completely sterilized is possibly in question. If she gets blood on it she'll certainly clean it up later. A glow rises from under the sleeves of her coat, threads of energy starting to flow into the symbols etched in her staff. Her eyes do widen, a hint of surprise at his words. "I admit that I know next to nothing about Pokemon, their origins, or their powers. I make no assumptions but I know that they are powerful creatures. Some majestic, some terrifying, but little else..." she shakes her head. "...I am, at present, studying Eorzea. I would, however, be interested in accompanying you on your ventures in your world." A date? Not in her mind. But for Lute? Who knows. "No offense. There are rare times where I am unable to control myself, be it through extreme hunger or extenuating circumstances," the witch explains. "Such as being set on fire," she adds with a moment of hesitation. Then with one hand on her staff, she extends her other arm, placing her palm in direct contact with one of the larger of the flesh wounds. "This will hurt a little," she says simply and matter-of-factly. Then warmth comes. It comes with light. She channels the energy from herself, into the staff, and then out through her hand. Then the pain comes. Even through the numbness of the anesthetic, there's an underlying ache, the heat and tingle of the magic forcing the wound to heal, forcing it to regenerate and mend at the depths of the damage from the inside out. The numbing agent helps, certainly, but it's unpleasant. But Lute can handle it, right?
Lute	Lute closes his eyes as the healing begins, bracing himself for the pain. While it is number than it couldbe, he still is showing signs of discomfort. He simply reminds himself that it'll be over soon. And, he'll try to kep his mind off it, by talking further. "I can introduce you to Pokemon sometime. There are a lot of different types, but I can already imagine some you'd like. You'd probably appreciate Giratina. It's majestic, terrifying, and powerful, all at once. I'm so glad I captured it." Even as he says this, he's trying to think. Eorzea... Eorzea. Finally, the name clicks. Though he has some familiarity with Gaius and his group of followers, he actually isn't all too familiar with that world. He almost even forgot the name. He smiles, still closing his eyes tight and bracing. He speaks, rather casually, despite the pain, "...I've been meaning to visit Eorzea. I've spent some time with Yari recently, so looking to learn more about her world. Plus, Gaius told me about a creature there I want to have cloned, if possible. So maybe I could tag along with you there, sometime. ...Though, I'm fine showing you things in my world, too. There are a /lot/ of ancient ruins around. There is even an ancient shrine dedicated to the Legendary Pokemon Celebi in a town closeby to my hometown. I could show you the ruins related to the Unown as well. ...Really, there are /countless/ ruins I could show you. All of them, amazing. It could be a great date." He adds on that last bit, just to make sure his intentions are a bit more clear. He wasn't expecting to find common ground with this vampire girl, but hey, here is a bit of something they have in common. A pause, considering, "...and I'll be sure not to use fire around you. I know that's a common vampire weakness, at least." He's still trying to focus on other things, and as such, he feels a need to keep the conversation going a bit. And so, he asks a question. One that he imagines isn't that big of a deal, and probably isn't too private of a matter. "...How did you become a vampire, anyways? And, how long ago?"
Ariah	The wound closes fairly quickly, at least, it may seem like it as conversation helps pass the time quicker. All in all, it hurts about as much as getting a detailed tattoo. Moreso than it -could- hurt, but still not pleasant or comfortable. "I would like to see your Giratina sometime. Does it have a name?" Her voice is a little more absent, focused on her task. She moves on to the next wound, starting the process over. Warmth. Heat. Tingle. And then the forced reconstruction of damaged organic tissue. "Which creature from Eorzea? I know of the Primals but not their nature. There are a large number of ruins, ancient civilizations, in Eorzea. The shrines and remnants of people and Pokemon past from your world are also of interest to me. I am always curious about the forms of energy other places and other creatures have, and what, if any, I can draw from or restore. What synergies I can form. How I may augment my abilities or those of others, or form ideas for new spells..." she explains. A smaller wound is patched in the time it takes for her to speak. And she pauses. "A date?" she asks. "My interest in you and your home and your soul is purely academic, scientific. Friendship would be pleasing to establish but I am afraid that I am unsure of any romantic overtures or intents. I am as yet unsure if I am even the romantic type." She seems bewildered, not having considered these things for herself before now. A change of subject seems welcome as she moves on with her task of healing. "Fire does not frighten me, though I am fully aware of what it can do to me. It also serves as one of the most raw elements I can draw power from," she says quietly. "Risk and reward together," the witch nods. Another smaller gash healed, her palm lifting from one site only to press to the next. "And I was turned... by standardized reckoning... seventy years ago, give or take. As to the how, do you want the long version or the short version?"
Lute	Lute continues to remain fairly calm despite the pain. As the wound closes, though? There is a bit of a sigh of relief, before the next one is started on. Still, the focus is on keeping talking, to ignore the pain and work through it. "I haven't named Giratina. I simply call him by what he is. ...I'm not sure I could even think of an appropriate name for it. I never thought of one for my Registeel, either. Though Giratina is sapient, it's... a force of nature, it feels. I'd be like naming an incoming storm. A little pointless. He doesn't seem to mind lacking his own name, though." He thinks back, trying to remember the name of the creature. It takes him a moment, but finally, it comes to him, "Midgardsormr. A giant snake-like dragon. It's not really for its strength, though. I'm curious to learn how more creatures develop. A lot of people are starting to view me as, like, the Confederacy's main expert on monsters. So... I really need to actually keep focused on expanding my horizons a bit. Hell, I'm tempted to even go and bind one of the Primals to me. ...It might be possible, really." And, a sigh, "Oh well, though, if you don't want to view it as a date. Friendship is fine. I mean, again, no offense, but you're a vampire. I'm not sure vampires can even feel love. Or be romantic. Though again, I really have no clue. But I'd still be happy to show you around a bit. And I promise, I'll try not to eye you up too much!" And then, a grin. The talk about fire interests him. "...Well. If it's dangerous too you, but still something you use and don't fear? I can really respect that. Not a lot of people will use their own weakness. It's a big risk, but it's one that can /really/ pay off." As the healing and patching up of his skin continues, he seems to be in a bit less pain. Sure, the process hurts a bit, but just having less wounds helps some of the ambient pain. Still, though, talking about himself comes natural. He doesn't have to focus to do that. So, hearing more about Ariah, he reasons, would be something he could focus on a lot more. "...Feel free to give me the long version. Or at least, as much as you feel like telling. I like hearing about my allies."
Ariah	The talk of names earns a nod, a nod of agreement when it comes to the forces of nature. Then, Ariah pauses. "Midgardsormr...?" she asks, rolling the word around a bit. "Even on a world that isn't earth, the World Serpent has a name and a place. It would not surprise me to find a Fenrir, and I know of the Primal, Odin. If there is any mythology that I am well versed in, it is Norse. The Elder Futhark runic alphabet is the basis for my symbology and spellwork." Her staff's runes do look -very- similar to those symbols, but they seem more detailed and derivative, as if inspired by the base alphabet. "I would not be adverse to taking you along to Eorzea when I visit, especially should you request a form of compensation for taking me along to your world," the witch explains simply. A mere transaction of shared knowledge. "Even if I am still learning about Eorzea myself." There is a faint lift of shoulders as she changes sites again, moving around the bed to ensure Lute doesn't have to move too much himself. "I'm sure many vampires feel love, or can be romantic. There have been enough books written about such. Most of us were human once, at least those from my world," she states with her absent, focused tone. "Look at me as much as you wish. There are a number of individuals among the rest of the Confederacy that put more time and effort into their appearances, and even a number of those who do not I would easily consider to be far easier on the eyes than myself." There's no malice, no envy, no sadness, nothing to read into with her words; just what she considers a statement of fact. Even with her constant working, her drawing and infusing of energy, she seems quite able to work and talk fluidly, even as conversation topics shift around. "There are few things as pure as flame that I can harness the energy of. I would prefer it not brought to bear against me, and I will certainly not thrust my hand into a fire without a very good reason, but understanding why we fear something, and what it means to us, while still being able to reap its benefits is the more intelligent way to handle a weakness..." Finally, she takes a breath, pausing her work on a more extended note and stepping back from the bed to examine Lute. Burns and broken arm may remain but she checks the chart again to be sure she hasn't missed any of the 'easy' wounds to fix. "The long version it is. But tell me, first. How much does your world, Pokemon aside, resemble that of what the Multiverse could consider a 'typical' earth? With parallel histories and events? Wars and uprisings? I have seen and read about hundreds of worlds formed in the same shape, with variances in events but... remaining so similar at the whole. The same gods and monsters and the men who created them."
Lute	The Norse Gods. Lute feels /should/ have placed the name Midgardsormr. He had heard of the creature before. He's kicking himself quite a bit for not placing it immediately. "...So that is why it sounded familiar. ...Baah, I need to brush up on my Norse mythology. I know minor bits. I was going to look it up more, but... That God, Loki, /really/ annoyed me, so the less I had to do with him, the better. Least he isn't active anymore, so." He shakes his head a bit. Just the thought of Loki annoys him. He smiles, though. a trade, eh? Honestly, he could think of other things he'd want instead, but he wouldn't force her to try and date him just for this. Yeah, even though he is now a more knowledgable researcher, he has a pretty one track mind. "...Well. Don't worry about paying it back, or thinking of it as an exchange, either way. Just think of it as friends helping eachother out. We're allies, right? Besides, you might be toying with my soul one day. We can probably trust eachother and not worry about paying eachother back unless needed." But, a smile is on his face, as she says 'look at me as much as you wish'. And he just starts staring at her body. Yes, he's rather tactless. But, she offered! It helps distract him at least. "...Well. You may not try, but you've still got a beauty to you. So, hey. If you're fine with me appreciating you, I'll take the opportunity." His eyes still focusing on her, he's looking a lot more comfortable. The pain still hurts, but he seems less bothered than before, even. "Well. That's pretty reasonable. I'm just glad I don't really have a ton of fears or weaknesses myself." This is, quite obviously, a lie. But he likes to put on a strong front. "And... As for my world's connection to Earth history... Basically no similarities. The Pokemon-2 world is distinct. BUT. While I was in the world of Pokemon-6, which /does/ have Earth stuff, I learned a bit. So I have a good idea of Earth history. If there is anything I don't understand, though? I'll ask for clarification."
Ariah	"A 'Loki' was taking part in the war? Or was he making mischief? Not that either need be mutually exclusive... he is Loki after all..." Ariah muses aloud. She leans her staff against the bed and starts to remove the casting from Lute's arm with due diligence and care as she listens. "Then you are free to appreciate me, and thank you for the compliment," she states simply. The eyes on her don't seem to bother her, especially with the modesty of her uniform. Work and care and a little socializing to go along with it. "I do hope the business with your soul does pan out. I promise to be careful with it, should I have the opportunity to study it and manipulate its energy," she says quietly, taking away the casting piece by piece. "As I said prior, your body is durable and I imagine that your soul is equally so, if not more. And should directly 'poking' at it brings you pain or discomfort, I wish to study what would happen should your spiritual energy be bolstered through it instead of used as a punishment tool." Finally the cast is off and she brings the anesthetic to bear again, injecting it in several strategic locations along the arm and near to the breakage. As she waits for it to sink in, she speaks, looking to Lute's face. "My world could be considered 'standard', if such a baseline exists for 'Earth stuff', as you put it. Save that things that seem to be in stories and myths and fairytales in such an Earth are real where I am from. Shapeshifters, vampires, angels, demons..." another shrug. "I come from the era of the second World War in my world. Where on battlefields men fought with tanks and guns, in the shadows the supernatural fought the supernatural. I was born a witch, not a vampire. To hear my parents tell it, at least. Witch, mage, sorceress, what have you. Multiple titles for the same thing, to some minds." She pauses, bringing her fingers to the broken arm, starting to feel around for the broken parts, the fractures and just how severe the damage actually is. "How long do you wish the long version to be?"
Lute	Lute groans a bit at the continued talk of Loki, "He was a complete idiot and had no idea how to even handle the Multiverse. And despite being a God, I kicked his ass. He was kind of an all around dick and idiot who is barely worth remembering." Lute doesn ot have a fond opinion of Loki. The talk of his soul, though, is uplifting, "...Well. So few have ever thought of making me stronger. Most thought of keeping me weak or unheard of. ...But I'm glad that is changing, more and more, where people want to help me. But, yeah. If you can find a way to make me more powerful my empowering my soul? I would /really/ appreciate that." As the injections go into his arm, he looks away again, just briefly. He knows it'll take some time for it to be effective. But, for now, he'll keep listening. And, as he listens, he's considering. She's fine with him staring. ...Should he push his luck a bit? For some time, his impulses have been kept under control by fear of others hurting him. But, with his continued streak of dumb luck, he's considering doing something stupid. "...World War II, eh? Yeah, the world was on an upward path after that, but... Not a good time to be born with magic. I mean, it's a /great/ gift, to have magical powers, and yet so many people look down on it..." Lute pauses at the last question, though. "...Well. As long as you want it to be. But. The healing /is/ tiring me out a bit. I might need a small pick me up to help me get through. Actually, one second, stay still, I have an idea that might work." Sitting up a bit straighter, he moves a bit quickly. Possibly faster than he should. But, his good hand moves to touch the side of Ariah's face. And then he moves his head in, in a swift motion, to place his lips upon hers. He'll let it last for a moment, /if/ it succeeds, before breaking it. Unless she tries to break it earlier. Or any other number of things that could be done to stop this kiss are done.
Ariah	"That is the sort of experiment I wish to attempt, yes. You are a Confederate ally and you could be the correct tool for the correct job should you be empowered, not weakened," Ariah says simply. She's still feeling around and manually setting the bones, which doesn't hurt quite as much as it should. It's likely she used a hefty dose of that localized stuff. "Magical powers are a great gift, and yes, that is the exact issue. Mages of all stripes were rounded up, trained, used as expendable assets during the war. We were little more than monsters, only feared and used, one suicide mission after the next. Soldiers but of the lowest possible tier and in the eyes of command, the dirtiest little secret." Her tone of voice, once more, isn't bitter or hateful. It sounds simply like fact. A recounting of her experiences in a cold, detached voice. The mention of a pick-me-up is heeded, "I can give you a dose of adrenaline if the healing process is taking too much out of you." All business, her hands still on that broken arm. Though with her focus on seeking the damage and preparing to heal it as well as being distracted with her thoughts, she doesn't detect the sudden movements of her patient. The hand on her cheek makes her look up, and the sudden face full of Lute makes her eyes widen. It's a kiss. Yep. One she doesn't return, half out of surprise and half out of not desiring to. What he might find odd is that she has breath. Held briefly, but it's there. Exhaled as her hands clench. It's a reaction, and even through the anesthetic, it hurts as her grip on that broken arm tightens to the point where it might cause further fractures. "Your reputation is not unearned, Lute," she states in that icy manner, fully focused now. Her eyes flicker with that violet glow and she stares intently at Lute. "Explain yourself."
Lute	And now, Lute's arm is being fractured more. All he can do is repeatedly let out yelps of pain, and multiple swears. He's wincing in pain, trying to keep calm, while also trying to figure out how to explain himself. He had /assumed/ that he could at least get /away/ with this. He didn't expect his wound to be made /worse/. "I... I just like kissing beautiful women! It helps me focus! Sorry, sorry! You seemed really chill and I thought I could get away with stealing a kiss! Sorry! I mean, it was just a kiss, right? It's not worth breaking my arm more, is it?" This, as a note, is one of the reasons Lute doesn't like vampires. Their intense physical strength, and the fact that they like to use it when he kisses them or harrasses them. He tries to think of anything else he can say, though, but he can't think of /anything/. He just hopes that this will help calm her down.
Ariah	"I can fix it," Ariah says simply, but she does let up the pressure from her fingers and resumes her prior task of sorting out broken bones. "If catching women off guard with unsolicited touches and amorous intent is your standard mode of operation, I can see why you are assaulted by them." The woman's actions and voice remain unchanged, though mentally she's still processing the feeling of the kiss. Unsolicited though it was, the jury is still out on the full verdict. Even if she's not likely to kiss Lute again any time soon. But at least she isn't halting the healing process or actively attacking the man. "Not without my permission," she then adds. Immediately after she speaks, she punctuates the remark by sending her energy into Lute's arm. The fractures she caused heal almost instantly, she had really only squeezed out of shock and perhaps a little bit of deterrence. It hurts, though. Bones knitting and muscle adjusting at an accelerated pace is more unpleasant than the first deep wound. "This won't take too much longer, then you will be free to return home."
Lute	Lute just remains quiet, nodding. Yeaah, he gets what she means. Though he doesn't get /why/ women get mad when he kisses them without permission, he knows they get mad. He pushed his luck too far. But, the 'not without my permission' thing causes him to raise an eyebrow. "...Well, if you ever wanna give me permission, just let me know. Granted, I might be pushing my luck by saying that, but..." He shrugs a little bit, before just trying to relax and let his arm heal. He's wincing /quite/ hard at the pain, and biting his lip a bit to help deal with it. "...Yeah. Thanks. I can't wait to be home. It's been a long couple of days..."
Ariah	She's a little sloppy. Moreso than she'd like to be. The anesthetic needed a little more time to kick in and her hands putting a few extra creases in an already broken bone don't help the pain. But it heals. It heals hard, but it heals right, and once the bone has been forced to knit fully, the pain is reduced to a dull and slowly subsiding ache underneath the fuzziness of the anesthetic. "So long as you refrain from actually kissing me," she states, "your luck isn't pushed any further than it was after you kissed me." She pulls her hands away, taking her staff up and moving towards the cabinet to acquire a small jar of burn cream. "You only need to apply this and rest overnight, your burns should be taken care of rather swiftly."
Lute	Lute chuckles, "...Well, fine. Though, if /you/ ever want to kiss /me/, I'm fine with it." The fact he can even think like this while he is having /this much pain/ , but at least, it's clearing up to a dullness now. He straightens up a little, though, smiling. With his good arm, he'll reach for the jar of cream when it gets handed to him. "Thanks. Sorry about what I did! But I still appreciate that you kept healing me anyways. I'll keep things more professional in the future though, okay?"
Ariah	"You are an ally of the Confederacy and you are injured. I have no reason to stop healing you, even if you overstepped into my personal space," Ariah states. "If anything, I should apologize for causing you extra pain. You understand your mistake and I trust you to not make it again. I am happy to keep things professional and friendly, and would still like to see your world." She draws what little energy is still stored in her staff out of it and takes a slow breath, looking somewhat tired herself. "I did not finish my story, but I am sure there will be time for it another day, especially if we are to travel together. You should be well enough to return to duty tomorrow, provided you get a good night's rest. Healing is... taxing. And I should take the time to recover as well."
Lute	Lute nods, smiling, "...Well. If you hurt me, you must of had a good reason for it, so no need to apologize. I've had worse reactions." And suddenly, a blank look on his face. Much akin to the look of a soldier with PTSD. "...But. still. You used your energy to make me better. ...Thanks. I'll be sure to make this up to you sometime, alright? And you get a good break too, alright?" He gets up. And, though he moves slowly, he starts heading for the exist, waving as he leaves.