[Flashback] Things Never Go Perfectly Right (Mizuriel)

[Tshaka re Hafra]

Spring 1 506


Tshaka gripped her scimitars tighter as she dove off of the ship into the dark waters. She couldn't believe a small ship of pirates would actually attack the trade galleon she was working on. But that's why she was here right? She stayed below the surface, locating the smaller vessel by the silhouette it made in the moonlight. Her kicks were strong, her arms pointed straight outward, blades extended outward, slicing like a knife through butter, her four remaining arms powerfully stroking through the salty water. She swam beneath the enemy boat and saw something that made her grin. Amateurs She saw their anchor dropped over, sinking down to the depths. This told her many things. It told her that this was probably the first time this group had ever pirated. It also told her that the pirates on her ship would easily be captured, and that her job was that much easier.

She stopped and was floating next to the thick chain. She swapped her swords to her lower set of arms. She used her middle arms to grasp the chain, and her upper arms free for anything. She then began to climb, hand over hand, silently up the chain, careful not to have it clang. She reached the lip of the boat and held herself there using her thighs and locking her ankles. She whispered a quick prayer to Ovek for good luck. She silently grabbed her blades, and peered over the rail of the small fishing boat turned pirating vessel. She saw a single guard watching the battle end on her boat, her people easily over powering the pirates. She silently crept over the rail and snuck within arms reach of the man. She tapped her foot on the wood to get his attention. Her turned and his eyes grew wide, showing the fear she loved to see in men, when she struck him between the eyes with the hilt of her scimitar. She saw his eyes roll back into his head, as he slumped to the deck. She saw a glint out of the corner of her eye, and she turned and slashed, catching the knife in the air with her blade and watched it clatter harmless to the deck. She dove forward into the open door into the cabin, so as to catch the attacker by surprise. She slashed low hamstringing her assailant. A feminine cry of pain followed by the thud of the woman dropping down echoed out the boat, followed by the crack of Tshaka's hilt hitting the woman in the shull.

She quickly scouted out the small interior of the cabin, finding no others, grabbed a coil of rope and dragged the woman out to the main deck. She tied a rag over the unconcious woman's wound and then tied her up as tight as only a sailor can. She then tied up the unconcious man, and then tied them both together. She signaled her boat saying it was safe. She went to the wheel and let the wind drift her closer to her boat, letting the anchor draw out further. The crew on the other boat transferred the pirates back to the smaller boat. She made sure they were all alive and tightly bound. She then navigated the boat to follow her ship. 

After a few hours they passed the mouth of Mathews Bay and knew they would be home in a week. Danyella was careful to insure that the captives were fed and watered and  still bound up. They had smooth sailing now that they were in the bay, making great time with a strong tailwind. After a week of relaxed sailing the harbor came into sight. 

Tshaka steered the small vessel carefully toward a dock when she noticed a pile of ropes next to a bound pirate. She swore loudly and leapt down to the deck, drawing her Jeweled Scimitar. One of the prisoners had waited until they were in the harbor to escape. She hadn't heard him jump overboard so she quickly checked the ropes on the other prisoners. He had to be below deck. So she made her way into the shaded quarters and saw him huddled over a barrel. He turned and was holding a fuse and was striking some flint and steel. She ran over to him as the fuse took the light. She clobbered him hard in the face with her hilt. The fuse disappeared behind a wall of crates and barrels. She dragged the man out and threw him overboard. She then yelled at the harbor workers to get away. She managed to deposit all of the captives over the side and dove off as the barrels of smoke powder exploded, shredding the ship, launching wood in all directions. Shrapnel and splinters slashed by Tshaka, cutting her arms and sides, and splinters imbedded themselves in her skin. She hit the water akwardly, the salt stinging the fresh wounds. She found the unconcious man and pulled him to the harbor first. Then she swam back and retrieved the rest of the captives, all bobbing in the water. She tied up the unconcious man once more, and told a dock guard that they were captured pirates attacking her trade vessel. He told her they would clear it up as she stumbled off, the bleeding was slow, but consistent. She didn't realize she was that injured as she stumbled into an alleyway and leaned against a wall, no longer able to hold herself up. She slid down the wall into a sitting position. 

"I...I just need to... To res-- to rest.." as her head slumped forward pulling her into unconciousness.      

[Mizuriel]

OOCSorry it took a bit, I wasn’t in much of a creative mood . Also, you referred to yourself as Danyella in your 4th paragraph. Mizuriel was slowly dragging his feet, one by one along the solemn road. He had gotten in yet another fight, and the funniest part was that even while thinking as hard as possible, he could not properly remember what had actually happened. As he was touching his face, he could feel pain upon pressure on certain spots. His headache was not a mystery either, he guessed it was a decent blow to the back the head that caused it. Tired and beaten, he did not bother remembering, who has he lost to this time; the reason was of even lesser importance. What could he do anyway, heal the perpetrator to death? Smiling a bit to his silly thought, he noticed yet another disturbing fact. The ribs were bruised fairly well, probably by kicks. And even while the awkward friendly exposition on his face hurt him, he still enjoyed it. Luck, fate or coincidence… whatever it was that saved him this time, he was grateful for it. He had a good idea why would the one responsible stop before killing him; risking the wrath of Rak’keli was a stupid thing to do, even while Mizuriel doubted he was of such importance to the goddess. He almost burst out laughing when he finally realized something; all of his fights would be without end if his mark could work on his own flesh as well. Irony aside, he still needed to find one of his classmates to help address the wounds he could not reach by himself. Living in Zeltiva since birth had its advantages, like knowing shortcut to pretty much everything for example. From where he thought he was standing, Luke’s house should have been only a couple of streets away. It would hardly take five full chimes to reach it, even in his state. He disliked Luke, and he knew the antipathy went both ways. There was one thing however, that made him sure he would get help once he reached the house; they were both doctors, sworn to heal and mend, both the body and the mind, no exceptions. Deciding to get help, he quickly slid into an alley to his left, leaning against the wall in search of support as he went. It was not even ten full yards later that he had stumbled upon an unconscious Eypharian girl. Even while seeing this rare sight got some of his attention, what kept his gaze locked onto the stranger was her blood that flew down slowly against her and onto the firm ground. Inspecting her injuries before touching her, he took note of about dozen bruises, scrapes and shallow cuts…. nothing he could not handle right here and now. What however got the best of him, was a seemingly deep wound on the girl’s lower back which still had a splinter inside of it. He quickly fell down next to the girl, in a failed attempt to kneel by her side. Once he rose back to his knees, he ripped some of her clothes off while caressing her bruises. As he touched gently down her skin, the cuts and bruises quickly evaporated, one by one. This was the most he could do without some medical supplies and helpful hands. Patting the girl gently against the cheek, as he leaned her against his chest, he spoke in a loud voice: “Wake up! Wake up! I am here to help you, but first you need to help yourself” he paused a bit, hesitating as his mind stopped working. The words came back to him quickly: “An acquaintance of mine lives nearby, once we get to his place, we can properly operate on the wound” he looked at her with compassion as a painful smile appeared on his face: “Trust me, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so long ago. Now, will you help me help you?” even while it seemed like wasting time, he could not risk the half awaken girl to struggle and further her injury.

[Tshaka re Hafra]

Tshaka woke up suddenly and gripped the man by the throat. After realizing he was trying to help, she released him, her arm dropping wearily. She struggled to pick herself up into a standing position. She put an arm around the man's neck. "Who.. Who are you?" She let him lead her to the house he mentioned, then noticed she didn't know the man. When they left the alley, she fell away and struggled to try and run, stumbling, in a blind panic. She didn't make it far before collapsing, wheezing hard, onlookers staring at the commotion.

She laid there, her body refusing to move. She tried to draw her scimitar but didn't have the strength to unclip it. So she remained there hoping she hadn't been found by a University merc. She planted a hand on the ground to raise up, but her hand splashed on the tiled walkway. Her hand was covered in crimson, warm blood. Her blood. She got the strength to rise, and began wandering aimlessly, not noticing any of the people gawking but not helping her. She was in a whole other state of mind as she stumbled down the walkway.

[Mizuriel]

OOCSorry, I failed to post for a bit, but I’m playing catch up now . Also I would like it to be noted that I asked for permission from Tshaka to turn her unconscious in my post. As soon as Mizuriel picked the woman up, it was already evident that she could not walk on her own. Lifting her from the ground, he progressed towards Luke’s house. One chime became five, five became ten, and ten became thirty; as he could not carry her any faster with all his injuries. As he paced slowly, he could not help but think about how did the Eypharian even get all those injuries. Sure it could have been a bar fight, but something told him it wasn’t; perhaps it was her back that was filled with tiny splinters. He could have easily asked for help from the passersby, but he knew it would have been a wasted effort. People didn’t like shady looking characters around here, even more so if they were members of a hated race. And people did hate the Eypharians, mostly because the many armed folk had in them instilled a deep hatred for most other races. Mizuriel could understand their reasons, even if he could not approve of it. Were it a Human upon his back, he had no doubt that he would be given help, and probably even a stretcher, but not like this and not for her. The house was in sight now, and he could feel himself sigh between all the quickened gasps he was letting out. There was some noise taking place in the house, and just when he was about to get his hopes up, the stupid creature started to struggle. She broke away from him and started running away; did she really want to die that much? Once she fell again, the man got himself next to her just in time to see her get up again and walk around almost as if she was lost. He was just about to smack her in the face for lack of options when she started falling down again. Barely succeeding to catch her, he thanked whatever god responsible for turning her lights off for the moment. Finally getting her to the house, he barely managed not to drop her as he knocked hard against the wooden door. Before he had the time to think of a proper greeting, the heavy door was pulled backwards and an elderly man pushed his head out. “Luke, we need help” Mizuriel gasped as he spoke. “You I can fix, I have no obligations towards her” he motioned towards the girl. “We can do this to no end, and we both know that you will give up on turning away eventually. So I beg you, stop being an idiot while she’s still alive…” as soon as the man finished, Luke rolled his eyes moving away from the door. Once they were inside, he laid the girl onto the table, her back facing the ceiling. Luke was a good doctor, and probably even more competent than Mizuriel. The mark made little difference, as it only made their duty a bit easier. The older man examined the wounds quickly, only to yell at Mizuriel at the next moment: “You idiot! Why did you let her move around like tha…” there he stopped as he remembered the bruises. “She is unconscious, that is good. We won’t need alcohol to ease her pain then. It would speed up the bleeding too much for her to handle” he looked back at the boy, speaking slowly: “I don’t think it is beneficial if we look at your wounds first, her's take priority now. Oh, remember that you will get out of here as soon I’m done” he started gathering up supplies needed for the treatment, stacking them onto the the chair next to the table. “If only my parents could see me now, they would turn in their graves, turn I tell you!” he yelled as he stood next to the girl. “Now remember, as soon as I pull the splinter out, use the gauze to suppress the bleeding while I remove all the smaller fragments from the wound. When I’m done, you will use your mark to sanitize the wound, and then you will stitch her up while I hold up the gauze. You got all that?” he was yelling more than he was talking. Not waiting for Mizuriel to answer, he pulled the splinter out quickly. The young man was barely in time to press the gauze against the wound as he was not used to such rush actions by his grumpy counterpart. He used a pair of pincers to quickly navigate his way through the wound, and pull out anything that didn’t belong there. Finally finishing his part, he turned to Mizuriel, laying his hand onto the man’s in order to let him know they should switch roles. As Mizuriel stood over the wound, he could not help but doubt if the girl is going to make it, as the power seared through him and into the wound. The cleaning was done fairly quickly, and before he even knew it, he had a needle and something that looked like a thin wire in his hand. He relieved the pressure, completely confident that Luke knew what he was doing. He let the needle pierce flesh, but only barely, as he forced the two sides of the hole together. He progressed along the wound, repeating one single movement over and over again. It looked almost as if he was trying to unlock a door, the only real difference was that he was holding a needle instead of a key, and while the door might have taken only a single moment, this took forever. When he finished, Mizuriel turned to Luke, who shoved a cup of tea in his hands, whispering: “Drink that while I bandage her, it should help with the pain” and before he could even finish his tea, Mizuriel was already pointed to the door. Standing in front of the door, he was about to thank Luke, when the man shut his doors. Seemingly amused, Mizuriel whispered: “Thank you”. He carried the girl further from the house, not wanting for Luke to get in trouble the girl might have been in. Finally stopping in the much more shabby part of town, he laid the girl next to a wall, while calling out to her, hoping it would wake her up. “Hey, wake up!” he waited a brief moment before speaking again: “Do you feel any better?”

[Tshaka re Hafra]

Tshaka felt herself shifting in the darkness. A dull throb was filling her back, wave after warm wave. It no longer felt like a foreign object was lodged in her back. Yet, every shift, every move increased the warming pain filling her. She had nearly no energy, and her mouth felt like cotton. The thirst reminded her of when she lived back in Ahnatep. Her head was dizzy, and she felt herself deposited next to something, a wall maybe. What was going on? The fear came back, and that fear scared her more than anything. She was not a scared, fearful little girl anymore. He had grown out of the life of fear. Or so she thought.

She struggled to open her eyes. It felt like trying to raise a heavy curtain with her eyes. Her eyes opened and light streamed in, burning her eyes. She tried to raise her arm to block it, but was so tired, so very tired. She let her head lull to the side, away from the painful light. She slid down to the ground, her face resting on the alley walkway. She managed to open her eyes, and looked up and saw a strange looking man looking down at her, sunlight silhouetting him like some ethereal man.

[Mizuriel]

OOCSorry, I failed to post for… a very long time! Mizuriel gazed down at the girl, feeling a bit bad about her clothes. The situation got stagnant quickly and the man began feeling awkward enough to flee the scene, the only thing stopping him was the condition of the stranger. While he knew he owed nothing to an Eypharian, it was still beyond his capabilities to just leave a wounded girl with thorn clothes alone on the street. Nudging himself back into reality, he looked down again, speaking to the Eypharian: “Are you alright?” was a stupid question considering everything, so without waiting for an answer, he continued: “You should refrain from moving too much for now. You’ve lost enough blood to cause a mild delirium and prolonged weakness, as the blood restoration process is indeed a lengthy one” he stopped talking, checking if the girl was still conscious. As soon as he was sure, he asked: “Is there anywhere I can take you to? Are you staying somewhere in the city?” He already sensed he would get a negative response if any at all. Still he wondered what might the girl had got herself into to be bleeding in an alley of some foreign place. Maybe she was actually from around these parts, even while he had not seen her before, Zeltiva was a big city so it was easily possible that he got confused and simply did not recognize her face at all.