meritocracy | ♛accidential video;

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return from mallynap

♛accidential video;

[the feed blurs in, shaky and uncertain. there's grass, sky, and there's blood. there's golden curls and a familiar brown headband and there's blood.

the video screen is smeared with red fingerprints and there is suddenly white skin, spasming fingers reaching for the screen but there is not a single word. not a single sound.

it moves, slowly, the fingers twitching as if in agony before it moves to a face, blood smeared at the top of the chin, dirt speckled across the cheeks and eyes barely open. for a minute there's the flash of a horrible red, gaping wound beneath the chin but then it's back to a pale face, lips parting but no sigh coming out. then the video spirals upwards, once, twice, red fingerprints and all.

and the fallen woman hasn't uttered a single word. ]

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[it's his voice again. he's around isn't he? sometimes she wondered when she was there if she had dreamed it all up. asch, luke, ion..everyone together again. it had been a strange and lovely dream--

that hurts.

as he touches her neck it's a vague tap, almost like a drop of water in the sea of numbness she's in. until her neck flares up like fire, aching and slow as the wound drips into the grass.

i'm hardly dressed right..that's not..good--sorry--

her green eyes lift to his out of focus, before they clear, then lid halfmast. she tries to form the words but her throat and lips won't move, and it's embarassing--it's frustrating and there is a ball of helplessness curling in her stomach but it's asch and she promised to try for him. to smile and show happier things.

so instead natalia smiles apologetically with blood smeared across the lower part of her face. you found me.]

[Idiot, he wants to say. It's on his lips and he's cursing himself a little bit for it, dragging the cloak off his shoulders and draping it over her body. There's something wrong with her throat, something that goes deeper than the wound itself. If she can't even make a sound it means there's damage that he can't repair.

Worse than Guy's injury just the other day, then. What the hell are the Malnosso doing out there?

No time for deliberating the issue now; if he can't heal her completely, he can at least seal the wound enough to take her home. Tear can do the rest, she's a much more advanced healer than he is. He lifts a hand to her neck, the soft light of his 7th fonons flickering into view, winding gently around the wound. Stop bleeding. Stop bleeding. Heal. Heal her...

He hates this- seeing her in this state. It takes every ounce of his concentration to focus on healing, healing and not the destruction he'd love to rain down on his enemies by what he sees. Damn them to hell.

It shouldn't have been her.]

[she can feel cloth on her body but that's it, and it's silence and grass and asch. and the slow trickle in her throat, in her mouth--she doesn't cry though. maybe it's because she's cried enough and she doesn't have anymore or maybe it's because she can already see him start to unravel a little and it hurts.

i want him to smile--i want to make him smile, not make him sad. not like this--asch--asch i'm sorry.

as the seventh fonons begin to show themselves natalia's smile, that had been a flickering candle, ghosts over her white mouth briefly, something like pride in her eyes. he had always been so capable. that's something..she'll have to mention to him once she can get her words back.

i don't know if i ever told you what a capable person you were. it's no wonder i relied on you so much? did i ever tell you that before asch? both you and luke-..did i ever tell either of you that?

it's black ghosting over her vision and everything beneath her hips feels numb and dead and she's floating in the black. her entire throat, her chin--it's all red. she must look a terror. that's hardly seemly for a Princess..

but the deep line in the center of her throat, with it's sprinkling of lines seems to twitch at the fonons. the skin slides closed like pieces of cheap tape. it won't hold forever. but she isn't seeping out everywhere. the trickling is inside but it's not out.

good. maybe she won't get so much on his clothes--he'll have to carry her. her legs aren't working either. that's strange..]

...Idiot. [He can't help it. She's acting like a fool, worrying so much about keeping a smile on her face. One thing he's grateful for, though, is that it at least is keeping her awake. Passing out would be merciful, but at the same time he's concerned about the potential consequences. There's no way to know how hurt she is until they get a doctor or a real healer to look at her.

Once the wound is healed enough to seem like he could move her, he releases the arte, retrieving the journal and setting it on her lap - perhaps the voices will help to keep her awake - before sliding his arms underneath her, very carefully supporting her head to prevent the wound from reopening. He rises to his feet, bringing her up with him, and cradles her as close as he dares without aggravating her wounds, letting the cloak and his own body do the work of keeping her warm. The last thing she needs is to get sick on top of everything else.]

This won't take long.

[It's quiet, barely a murmur, half to himself. They're on their way, they're moving; he's going to get her some help. If he was a better healer, if his fonons weren't already so decimated by his lack of time, maybe he could-

...but those kinds of regrets are worthless, aren't they? Ultimately, they do nothing for him. He can curse how pathetic he is all he wants but it won't get her home any faster.]

[she wondered if he'd get around to calling her that. her lips twitch again, if she could laugh with the blood in her throat she would. but natalia lies like a broken doll on the ground; no sound--no words. no confident voices--no assurings that she's strong, she'll be alright--she's grown up, after all--nothing.

as he puts it in her lap she can hear the voices of their friends and her eyes mist over as her head sags into his chest. she's sleepy, asch. she's so sleepy. she's so tired..

nephry--i told you i was tired before--i think--i'm very tired now. i wonder if that is looking back also--to admit that much. i suppose some parts of me haven't changed..

as tear and nephry's voices sound across the video natalia's head lolls a little, the cloak is warm over her bloodied shift.

natalia quietly listens to asch with closed eyes, it's a single sentence but it says enough. her hand fumbles, twitches against the fabric of his clothes before her fingers grab footing and close around what she can grasp.

her eyes open briefly.

thank you, asch. it's alright.]

[He feels her fingers curl weakly around the material near his hand, and purses his lips, his body tense. It took that much effort just to hold a bit of fabric, to grasp something so small. She's always doing this to herself, isn't she? Trying too hard, forcing strength when anyone else might cave to their own weakness. It's an admirable and infuriating trait.

She should know better.]

Stop pushing yourself. Just get some rest.

[It's a quiet, chiding tone, more gentle than his previous words; he's still angry, no denying that, but his concern for her is subtly overruling that anger bit by bit. It's not alright, and she's not fine, and as much as her eyes might plead with him, he's not going to smile about this. There's nothing to smile about, not even to indulge her. He can't be happy.

Not while she's bleeding in his arms like this, unable to speak, barely breathing. Nothing about it would be real.

When he smiles at her he wants it to be real, always.]

[natalia hears that and her chest hurts a little. he's so upset--was he doing alright before he found her? had he been well..? she doesn't know. she doesn't know anything and it's been a so long--under those lights and those white coats and is it a dreamasch, asch--i'm tired--it hurts--asch--but she won't say that, she won't ever say that. instead she just drops her fingers as weakly as they had grabbed, falling back into her lap. she can hear everyone faintly..]

[Asch speaks quietly into the journal a few times as necessary, falling silent at some point and pausing to lean against a tree for just a few moments about halfway, opening the link to connect with Luke. He can get supplies for her, prepare the house, tell Tear what she should be ready to do when Asch arrives with Natalia. He continues onward after the moment passes, trying to pick the pace up without jostling her too much. At least they aren't too far from the house.]

[As Asch begins talking to Luke, Natalia starts to blink in and out of consciousness. There's a hitched, gurgled sound escaping Natalia's lips though there is little but that. She's slipping.

Asch's red hair was always so bright wasn't it? Even when it was dark. It's a little dark now, and her eyelids are heavy. She must look a mess, she thinks again, with blood smeared over her throat, chin face--hair..I can't call myself a Princess, she thinks wryly, as her head sags backwards, into his arms. It's lights out.]

[He notices her head loll, shifting his arm hastily to avoid he stretching her neck and tearing the wound open again. The healing he'd done was too delicate to risk that.]

Natalia? Natalia!

[...Dammit, she's out. Cursing under his breath, he cuts off the fonic link and picks up the pace, trading gentleness for haste. As long as she's unconscious, he won't concern himself with the jostling causing her more pain; what's important now is getting her to a proper healer.

Thankfully they weren't far off, so before too long he makes it to the house, kicking loudly against the front door to get someone's attention, since his hands are (obviously) occupied.]

[and she'll just continue leaking all over your clothes, asch. sorry. :(]

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♛accidential video;

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