Closed [GST] The Trust of Others

Gemma learns about Yahal

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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[GST] The Trust of Others

Postby Gemma Parker on March 22nd, 2019, 4:52 pm

Spring 23rd, 519av, 14 Bells, Tenten

The rain was wreaking havoc on Gemma’s mood. It wasn’t that she couldn’t be positive if she wanted to, it was just that she didn’t want to. It had basically rained non-stop since the change of season, with a few exceptions in the morning conveniently (sarcasm) scheduled during her work shifts. She had not seen the sun in too long, and as much as she tried to be a small piece of sunshine to all who met her, her solar cells were running on empty.

To make matters worse, the outside weather seemed to be reflected by her internal climate. Her life had been so simple up until recently, and then everything started to go wrong. Well, no, not everything. She reminded herself dutifully. She had a good paying job, a father who loved her, and a possible budding love affair with the hottest hunk of herbalism teacher around.

No, it was not all bad. But while it normally seemed so easy for her to focus on the good in her life, the rain was making it all too easy to look at the bad. Her mom was spending more and more time away from Lhavit, and she had to believe it was because of her increasing disillusionment with Gemma. She was by far the least educated student in both of her classes, which really made it hard to impress Izo. And when her herbalism was really the only thing she had been proud of, not to mention probably the only way she would ever actually impress her mom, which might convince her to stay home more so they could be a real family again.

Of course, herbalism didn’t have to be her only path to approval. She had recently learned about not one but two magical disciplines that would help her to become many times more valuable in the medical field: Shielding and Auristics. If she could manage to unlock the secrets of these magical arts, she would be the only medic she knew of to do so, which would set her in a class apart from her peers. That was if she could even get into the Mage Towers. Which she couldn’t. Because no one important knew who she was.

But that very line of thinking and the motivation she knew she felt toward it was what scared her. When she had first thought of learning magic, she had been convinced that it was only to help more people. But as she had searched her soul and brooded for long hours, she had realized that it was not, in fact, her desire to help that motivated her. Her very motivation was corrupt. That made her just like Ponrose, the mage who had overgiven and stood trial just days before. Gemma had been appalled by the horrors she had witnessed at the hand of a mage corrupted by ambition, and though she wanted desperately to be pure in her motivations, she could no longer pretend that that was the case.

And how was she supposed to impress her mom or anyone, really, when she couldn’t even fulfill the basic vow she had made to her goddess? ‘To protect and heal.’ These were the words that guided her every waking action. But when she thought back to what had happened at the end of Winter when she had seen Savis’ empty dead eyes staring back at her through a watery tomb that Gemma had barely escaped with her life, the emotion was not grief, but self-doubt. She couldn’t even save Savis. She had been so caught up with her own survival, her own safety. Each time she thought back to that moment, she couldn’t help but believe that she had somehow failed and either caused or enabled Savis’ death.

It seemed that she was doomed to mediocrity. She could not see how to get into the good graces of one of the powerful people in Lhavit without intentionally plotting out a way forward. If her mother found out that she was doing something like that, she would be proud, sure. But even if that was the kind of person Gemma wanted to be, which it wasn’t, the very ambition required to get into the towers would likely be the very force that either disqualified her in the end or corrupted her into hurting the very people she wanted to help.

It was a circle she had traced before, and in the end, it just left her dizzy.

Of course, if she could just manage to please her goddess enough to be given a second healing mark, she might not even need magic. It would be irrefutable evidence of her value to her goddess, which would transcend anything other people thought or felt about her, she was sure. But she had had her first mark from Rak’keli at birth. It was her bloodline and heritage, not her own merit, which had made her even as “special” as she was today. It had nothing to do with who she was or what she did. And though she trusted her goddess implicitly, as was proven by the continued function of her gnosis mark, she could not help but wonder if her mother’s unspoken disdain was not a human reflection of her goddess’ opinion of her. It was a though she tried to suppress whenever she noticed it, but today it seemed to come to the forefront of her mind as the only logical conclusion.

She was walking without aim or direction, hovering around Tenten since she was lightly aware that she had classes in the evening and didn’t want to go too far away, but she wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings.
Last edited by Gemma Parker on March 30th, 2019, 3:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[GST] The Trust of Others

Postby Adriana Sparrow on March 25th, 2019, 1:38 am

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The rain was light, but it causes vision to be blurred and squinted for most of the Lhavit population. The rain was cold despite the warm air surrounding it. and so each drop was a shock to the skin. Most citizens were rushing to their next destination, hurrying to get out of the cold and the wet. Cloth was lifted over crouched shoulders and dipped heads to attempt to provide some shelter from the falling water overhead. All were ignoring the cries of a man nearby in favor for their own destinations.

He was dressed in clothes that looked rather new, yet he wore them strangely, disheveled. His pants were hiked up at different lengths, his jacket was off one shoulder and his short was partially tucked into his trousers. His entire wardrobe was covered in dirt and mud that was slowly being washed away by the rain. Behind him followed a trail of brown water. His hair, too, played down with water, was ragged and dark. He must have been a little bit of an older man, perhaps in his forties. His eyes looked frenzied and scared. His mouth moving quickly, talking and chattering at the same time.

He would come up upon the Konti Healer only moments after she noticed his painful and pleading yells. He was drenched with water from the weather, only making the blood running down his upheld arm more noticeable. The water mixed with the red to spread it across his skin and down onto the ground below, creating a line of red water that slowly washed itself away.

It was a lot of blood, even with being diluted by the water. Anyone practiced in the medical field would know the amount was significant. The wound, though, would be less easy to identify. The blood seemed to be coming from his hand or arm, but the man was clenching the affected arm to his torso, protecting it from the rain. He would stumble up to the Konti, demanding her attention even if she somehow managed to not notice his loud presence prior. He would be crying out in pain and speaking, but his words were garbled and if one was able to pull out specific words of Common or any other language, they would find the strings did not make sense when put together.

The man would stop short a few feet from Gemma, looking at her apprehensively, somewhat scared or nervous at coming any closer. His face would be dipped and hidden, his eyes looking out from under his dripping hair questioningly. He was clearly trying to communicate with the woman before him, but he would appear frightened to do so. He would simply continue to hold his injury to himself, whimpering in pain.

Looking around one would notice that despite his cries, no one else walking, or rushing, nearby would take any notice of the man. Perhaps ones eyes would glance over the man, but they would quickly refocus the the destination point, hurrying to get out of the weather.


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[GST] The Trust of Others

Postby Gemma Parker on March 25th, 2019, 9:09 pm

Gemma blinked. She found herself sitting on a bench in the rain, just looking up at the sky. That was probably why she didn't notice the disheveled and bleeding man until his looming form all but eclipsed her view of the plaza.

She felt him before she really saw him, and her eyes drew back into focus as he took another step forward. She was about to ask if she could help him, but before she could, he began rambling in some unknown language that Gemma had never heard before. Without thinking about it she recoiled, immediately flashing back to Ponrose. She had been spouting lunacy as well. Was this the same? He was injured and in need of care, but she didn't see the extent of the injury with his arm clutched to his chest.

"Sir, you're wounded," Gemma said, standing up and taking a step, against her better judgment, toward the man. She preemptively scrunched up her nose in anticipation for the odor that she was sure was about to assail her, but as she neared... nothing. Odd. She had assumed he was maybe homeless or drunk or just generally crazy, but he didn't smell bad, at least not bad enough to reach her from this close. Maybe he wasn't any of those things. Or if he was crazy, at least it was recent. That didn't rule out the idea that he might be overgiving like Ponrose, but with a quick glance around, she didn't see any portals opening and closing. She didn't know what other magic the man might have overgiven with, but it didn't matter. Even if there had been black holes present, Gemma had taken an oath to protect and heal.

The blood was worrisome. She wanted to explain to him what she was about to do, but she couldn't understand him so she assumed he couldn't understand her. She thought quickly and spoke louder than needed while miming the actions.

"I," she said, touching her palm to her chest. "Will pray," she held her hands palms together and mimed bowing her head. "For you," she finished by extending her hand toward him. She didn't wait for confirmation. She nodded, making eye contact and trying to transmit sensitivity and understanding when all she felt was confusion and overwhelm. She prayed to her goddess in Common, just in case he understood. Her gnosis mark lit up under her glove, shining lightly between them.

As she prayed, she tried to gesture for him to sit down, but no longer spoke the instructions, as she was praying. She pointed at him, then at the bench, she had been sitting on and tried to help him understand that she wanted him to sit down. If he did so, she would dig in her bag for bandages before showing them to him, indicating that she intended to wrap his wound. She would need to get him up the hill to The Catholicon, but that... was a lot of blood. She would need to stop the blood flow first, then she could transfer him.
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[GST] The Trust of Others

Postby Adriana Sparrow on March 27th, 2019, 12:34 am

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A brightness shown from beneath the woman's glove as the Goddess of Healing answered the Konti's prayers. Gemma would feel as the Goddesses magic move through her body, the warmth and comfort it brought her and how it would travel through her Gnosis mark to her body and to the injured mans as well. The magic would work here, but not completely.

The man winced as the magic touched his body, unfamiliar with the feeling of Rak'keli within him. But he stayed strong and still, allowing the woman and her healing to attempt to make him better. While the blood slowed its race down his wet and dirty arm, it did not stop completely. After he felt the magic receded from his body and his injury he would attempt to flex out his hand, where Gemma would then get a better look at the injury. He winced, his face contorting briefly in pain, and he tested the limits of the newly healed injury.

His hand, which he had been covering to himself previously, was now more in the range of the Konti's sight. The red of the blood that covered near the entire extent of the mans hand helped to hide the injury from view, but Gemma would still be able to pick out the location.

It was a large gash, now partially healed by the Goddesses blessings, but still open and flowing. Perhaps before her prayer the slice was deeper and longer across, but now it seemed shallow, his muscle beneath the skin only barely visible to the naked eye, the line running from the crook of this thumb to the middle of the palm in a slight arc shape. While in the rain the detail were more difficult to distinguish, it was also somewhat easy to see the plump and pink healed skin where the Gnosis worked to heal, the gash had continued up where it curved around the palm just at the base of the pinky finger.

It would take perhaps another prayer from the Healer if she could will it to complete the process, but even then it was unclear if it would work, or if the magic would be granted a second time. For now the wound continued to bleed steadily, with no sign of clotting. Gemma would not be sure when the injury occurred, and could safely assume that the bleeding had been like this, if not worse than this, since the start.

The man, twitching slightly after the completion of the healing, would look at Gemm with confusion when she pointed. He backed away slightly, after the magic went away. But when Gemma sat down on the bench herself, he stuttered and began talking gibberish to himself. He paced to the bench, then away, then back again, looking at the seat with great thoughtfulness, until, after a couple more paces, he took a seat at the far end of the bench from where Gemma sat.

He would arch his neck, still muttering, to attempt to see what the Konti was digging for in her bag. His legs bounced as he sat, unable to control them, and he continued to attempt to flex his hand, which seemingly only made the bleeding worse each time. When Gemma produced cloth for bandages he looked at them, but made no show of moving or accepting. The cloth, however, was quickly wilting in the rain, and with the blood flow of the injury, it was unlikely the bandage would support itself in this weather with the injury in this state.

However if the Healer decided to try and bandage the wound, the man would not reject the touch, however he would not be able to stop jittering and mumbling. This would cause the Konti to find some difficultly in keeping his hand still enough to wrap.

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[GST] The Trust of Others

Postby Gemma Parker on March 29th, 2019, 12:42 pm

As soon as Gemma took the bandage out of the pack, it started getting wet. She cursed in Konti and looked up at the sky, frowning. She knew she shouldn't curse the elemements. Her dad had taught her to be thankful for everything nature gave to them. But right now, nature was getting in the way. She knew she could have simply brought the man to a sheltered place to bandage him, but she hadn't thought of that. That meant it wasn't the rain. It was her. It was something she had to come to terms with that sometimes she was at fault. Not sometimes. It felt like all the time. But that didn't stop her from wanting to shift the blame sometimes.

Gemma tried to squeeze the water from the bandages and shelter them with her body. She clipped her bag shut to keep everything within safe from the moisture and then slid closer to the man at the end of the bench. She resumed her prayers for the man after having seen that the wound had healed a little bit. That was odd. Usually something that severe would not have been effected. Maybe it was multiple smaller wounds within him that she had somehow been able to heal with her gnosis. It gave her hope. Maybe she could help him after all. And now it seemed that the wound was bleeding a little less, even though she knew that could change at any moment. She at least hoped the the man was not in pain. She balled the bandages up in her hand and made eye contact for a moment, letting him know she was about to proceed. In the end, since it was clear that the bandages would not hold well, she ended up just pushing the ball of fabric onto the man's cut and applying pressure with her glowing hand as she prayed.

She wanted to help with both hands, but she was really trying not to use her left arm since it had been injured in the Savis incident. She needed to be careful or she would not be able to help him. She stood up from the soaked bench and smeared wet hair out of her face before wiping exess water away so she could see.

"You." She pointed to him. "put pressure." She mimed pushing hard on her own arm where his wound was. She then pointed to his arm. "There." She hoped he would understand, because she couldn't do this on her own. She thought for a moment about enlisting help from around her, but everyone was rushing to their destination, splashing through the puddles that were everywhere in the street. She was alone with her patient.

She tried to quickly check him for other injuries, but clearly this one was the big problem. If she found anything life threatening she would handle it the best she could. If not, she would try to get him to come with her to The Catholicon up the mountain.

She made the gesture to come with her, beckoning him with her hands and good arm. "Come with me." She tried to communicate. If he did, she would then lead him, supporting him as best she could, to a place where they could heal him better than she could.
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[GST] The Trust of Others

Postby Adriana Sparrow on April 5th, 2019, 9:53 pm

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The blood still ran from the mans wound, quickly and thinly. The Konti's hands felt warm against the mans cold and wet skin. He blinked at her, slow and soft, and again, and again, as if his lids were heavy and he was slowly falling asleep. But he maintained his alertness, seemingly and stared at the white woman close before him on the bench.

He watched as her hand glowed once more. The magic flowing again from her body to his and he felt the wound close a bit more. After the magic from Rak'Keli stopped, they both would see a change in the overall wound. It was mostly closed now, the wound not nearly as deep or long. Really there was only one small spot where blood continued to seep out, but now it was slow and appeared to be struggling. The rest of the wound would match the puckered pink from the previous healing session. Gemma would feel somewhat tired, used up, from the channeling of the magic and would not truly be able to handle another healing for a while in the day.

He winced as the applied the damp rags to his wound. It would still open and sore and he twitched with the sensation. His twitch was ragged and violent and he near fell of the bench, but it seemed to cure his lightheartedness for at least a moment. He righted himself and watched and frowned as the woman got up, away from him. He began to whimper softly, looking up at her. But she made a motion, something that she wanted him to do, and while it may have seemed simple to any one else, it took the strange man a moment to understand.

At first he reached out his hand towards the woman, attempting to touch her arm where she had herself. But he seemed to change his mind halfway through, and paused, only to remove his hand from the air and rest it on the bandages covering his wound. He thought some more, another pause, until he slammed pressure into the hand. He winced from the pain and the suddenness of the movement and removed his hand in shock. He looked at the wound, then back up to the Healer and back down once more. He placed his hand again on the wound and pressed, gentler this time, until there was significant pressure on the wound. He made a grimace from the pain, but his hand stayed, along with his expression.

But then his show of pain was replaced with one of fear as the woman before him clearly motioned him to follow her. Instantly his hand removed itself from the wound, forfeiting its job, and he stood up in a rush. He Put his hands to his head and hunched over, walking in quick and worried paces around the bench, muttering lowly to himself in gibberish, his head shaking back and forth violently.

There was clearly no way the man would follow the Konti away from the current location. Her only choice was to continue to treat him here, or leave him to his own devices.






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[GST] The Trust of Others

Postby Gemma Parker on April 7th, 2019, 2:50 am

For a moment, Gemma thought the man might fall asleep right there in front of her. It was not uncommon for people in pain to not realize how tired they were until the pain was gone. That was probably what was happening here. The wounds seemed to have mostly healed, and it was time to get him the attention he needed. Clearly his wound had not been his only issue.

Gemma tried to speak soothingly as the man recoiled at the pain of the bandage pressing onto his wound. She didn’t know what to say, and it was clear that the man didn’t understand her, so she just said things like she might say to a baby or a dog. “It’s ok. Nothing’s happening. Everything’s ok. You’re ok.”

The man stood up quickly and Gemma stepped closer, afraid that he might get light headed and fall over. He seemed fine, though, but then tried to touch her arm, rather than his own. Maybe she wasn’t being clear. It was so hard to try to communicate when he didn’t understand her words. He tried to follow her instructions, but the first two times he tried, it was either too soft or too hard. Gemma’s face held a piteous expression as she tried to reach out, but then pulled back. What was she supposed to do?

Then the man started freaking out. When she tried to get him to come with her, he started walking in circles around the bench, his head in his hands.

“Rak’keli, I don’t know what to do. How can I help him if I don’t have what’s needed, and I can’t get him to help?” She asked, exasperated.

Still, all was not lost. The man’s main visible wound had mostly sealed, even though the bloody bandages now lay muddy on the ground. She had one more, but that one had barely done anything. Her priority, then, was to get him to calm down before he hurt himself.

“Ok, ok!” She held up both hands up in a placating gesture, trying to calm the man down. “We don’t have to go anywhere. Let’s just stay here.” She tried to keep her voice soothing as she went back to the bench and sat down, patting the spot next to her in invitation for the man to sit down again. If he did, she would open up the cloak she wore and beckon him to drape it over himself. It was magic, and would expand to encompass him, immediately regulating his temperature to be whatever was perfectly comfortable for him.

“There. That’s not so bad, is it?” Now what other wounds do you have?” She asked herself.
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