RP:A Spark of a Bright Future Ahead

Summary: Joan travels to Rynvale to deliver supplies to the clinic for the Healer's Guild. Finding herself a little lost, she comes upon a group of people fleeing the amphitheater and a wounded Lita. Mahri makes an appearance and despite the woman shifting to her wolf form, Joan keeps a cool head and puts some new healer skills to good use.

Marble Statue and Courtyard

Walking into this rather large courtyard, you notice the pristine marble tiles, all of obsidian hues that you walk upon as the cheers and laughter of a massive amount of people comes from the north. Looking that way, you see a looming, twenty foot, white marble statue depicting actors in performance of a battle scene . The victor, you would assume from the pose, stands with a spear high in the air, pointed down towards a fallen foe, hands up, as if begging for his life. The end, it seems, is captured in time for all to see as this battle would have surely ended within seconds. Peering off a ways past the statue, you see a grand amphitheater of extreme beauty shown upon its external façade. All around you, people are filtering towards it, a spectacle either in progress or soon to begin.

Lita had snuck out of whatever afterparty had ended early at the city's amphitheater. She might have been the reason for it ending. Whiskey, sleep deprivation and hunger seemed to be a nasty combination. At least the screaming had stopped. She'd hunkered down in some forgotten corner of the courtyard, grateful for the guild emblem that kept her mostly shrouded in shadows while city guards and officials busied themselves with getting tourists to safety. It was the middle of the night. No one was getting paid enough to look for some lowlife who'd stabbed a playwright in what appeared to be a drunken brawl. Most of the blood isn't even hers, though the side of her dress is sticky with it, splashes of crimson dotting the pale skin of her forearms and hands. She mumbles a string of profanities as she stumbles barefoot towards the statue, sitting on the edge of it to catch her breath. She lifts her hand, the familiar sting of an open wound beneath her ribcage making her head spin. Okay, some of the blood was hers. She winces and presses her left hand back to her side again. Her right arm useless at her side, the shoulder dislocated and hanging at an unnatural angle. This freaking night.

Joan grumbles as she makes her way along the cobbled pathway, her eyes would narrow as she stops to study the map, not minding the crowd of folks spilling out around her. She was undead after all and if anyone bumped into the vampiric healer they would find an unmovable being. She sits down the rather larger wicker basket down at her shoed feet, inside was the fresh order the local clinic had requested from the Healer's Guild were inside packed carefully since Joan had to take the trip over by boat and none of the objects would do to get soaked in rouge saltwater spray. Having made the trip here rather safely the woman did her best to try to make it without stopping to ask directions, but yet...Joan found herself ready to ask for directions, about to open her icy pale pink lips to ask the nearest guard for help the vampiric healer picks up the scent of split blood, with a frown she now sharply looks around for the source, picking up the wicker basket as she moves towards the rick coppery scent asking aloud, "Is there anyone hurt and in need of a healer?"

Mahri had been wandering Rynvale, restless without Lita back at the villa to bother her with ideas for redecorating, colors, patterns. She was unreasonably irritable this evening, her foot falls hitting the stone road with a sharp staccato rhythm that, had people not already been rushing from the area, would have likely sent them scattering. Hands buried in the deep pockets of the duster that smelled strongly of Ace, Mahri glanced up to finally take notice of what was going on. She smelled fear verging on panic – beneath that a familiar scent mixed with sharp copper. The moons above hit silver eyes that glowed ferally in that equally pale light. A low warning growl rumbled in the wolf’s throat as she started pushing past people and going from a walk to run, now those boots pounding a bass beat into the road, gloved hands shoving people leaving the area in her impatience to get to the vampire bleeding at the statue. She arrived in the courtyard to hear the trail end of Joan’s question, ‘…healer?’ as it echoed off the marble and to her ears. “Lita!?,” the wolf calls out, an edge of barely suppressed rage and fear making the tone harsher than intended. Mahri’s heart sped as swiftly as her feet to reach the vampire, maybe before the purple-haired healer.

Lita likely would not have opted for a healer even if she didn't have a fairly unhealthy distrust of them. Well, not them specifically but magic. There were a far few she trusted with it anymore, especially around her self. If she could get back to her shop at least, she could hopefully find Cal and coax him into popping her shoulder back into place and stitching up the stab wound at her side. For now though, she stands to shuffle a bit awkwardly around to the back of that statue. Or tries to. A few steps sets her head swimming and the world fluttering at an angry tilt until she sits again, her stomach feeling like it's about to empty itself onto the cobblestones. She needed a drink. And not a flask. Her fingers grip at the edge of the marble statue, the stone suddenly rubble beneath her palm. There are stragglers, surely no one would notice just one of them going missing. One out of how many. Those were odds she could live with, at least right now. Dark eyes follow the steps of a young man, maybe in his twenties, dressed in what was probably the nicest suit he owned, his blonde hair disheveled, his green eyes looking panicked. She's already imagining what he might taste like when Mahri's voice cuts through the shrill quiet, and she mutters a curse under her breath that is more annoyed complaint than any sort of grateful. But at least for another minute there's an edge of reason back in her brain. She lifts a hand to try and get the woman's attention- maybe both of them- forgetting the wound beneath her palm and stuttering another curse as she fumbles to press her palm back against her ribs again.

Joan followed the scent, shouldering people aside with ease as she makes her way towards the statue, the vampiric healer was bypassed by the quick blur of the wolf woman, Joan allowing the other woman to get to the wounded Lita as she herself sets down her wicker basket once again, this time at the feet of the statue, she pauses to put a small magical barrier around it before she follows after the lycan, her hands already digging into her small field kit, pulling out a long roll of clean bandages and a small flask that held sanitize. Purple eyebrows lifted upwards toward her hairline as she looking mildly surprised to see her newly minted fellow healer wounded so. "Evening there Lita, (she overheard the wolf speak the other's name, hence speaking it aloud also.) would you be okay if I looked you over? I'll be gentle, pinky promise." She spoke in a even clear tone, even showing her icy pale pinky finger on her left hand while she flashed a easy smile, all this done to try to ease the other woman's obvious discomfort, Joan with also smiled towards Mahri at the lycan woman, Joan's healer's badge could clearly be seen dangling from around a pure silver chair about her neck, it was normally all Joan had to show for most of land to know she could be trusted and perhaps even listen to with it came to emergencies.

Mahri slid to her knees in front of Lita, not missing the hungered look towards the well-dressed young man. Her whole attention is focused on the vampire, searching to see how bad the injuries were, how much of that blood belonged to Ace and how much was someone else’s. The fresh flow was worrisome but when Joan’s words hit her ears, the she-wolf had to grit her teeth to keep from snarling at the healer. Mahri’s wolf rippled under her skin, needing to get out and seek the one who hurt Lita. She gave a sharp shake of her head to clear it from the roar of an internal wolf’s howl of anguish, seeing Lita wounded and in pain. “What do you need, Ace.” Wild silver eyes slanted towards the young man, seemingly frozen in place and staring at the trio of women. If anyone looked down, they might find he is held immobile by prickly vines wrapped around his ankles. She looked over at Joan, then, scrutinizing the woman with narrowed eyes. “What. Happened. Here,” she ground out between tightly clenched teeth that had started taking on a more lupine shape behind her lips.

Lita had one of those phoenix emblem things. She squints at Joan's as the woman nears, not at all listening to her. Where had she put that thing? The beach house probably. But it seems important just now like most inconsequential or trivial things in the midst of an emergency. Was her hair okay? Was her dress torn? Had she been barefoot this whole time? "Don't need you to be gentle." She manages through gritted teeth. There was something in her brain about needing a needle and thread, but Mahri is in front of her and gods she's beautiful. "Pop my shoulder back into...?" She nods sideways at her injured right arm but the words trail away from her as she's distracted by the newly familiar sight of blonde hair some yards away, suddenly trapped. She narrows her eyes at the kid, trying to remind herself to breathe. "Mahri, let him go." The words are strained, maybe a little desperate. Not at all sure. Her fingers flex against her ribs and the pain makes her wince but makes her focus and she drags her attention back to Joan again. "You got a needle and thread in there?" She asks, nodding at the woman's basket.

Joan huffs out a short chuckle as she nods her head, "Just came upon the scene myself miss...sorry what is your name?" Joan ask as she moves to kneel on the side of the fallen Lita, she scans what she can see of the wound, her lips purse a bit, "It's part of the creed or something I suppose. Artia said something about it to me ages ago." Carefully the vampiric healer would pull a small vial out of her other small pouch, this one held her supply of fresh blood. This she would thumb open the cork lid and press it towards the other vampire woman, "You need to drink this, it will help speed up your own bodies energies to then help channel into healing, this needs to be taken or you are going to heal humanly slow and we might not have time for that." She intones letting the wolf woman deal with the prickly vine held in place human male her whole focus on the novice healer hunched up in pain.

The vines retreat and the boy takes off as fast as he can away from danger. Whether that danger is the vampires or the wolf, his panicked mind doesn’t care. Rounding a corner the almost-prey disappears. Mahri can at least put the shoulder back into place, lycan strength making it swift to minimize any pain. Unable to suppress the change any longer, Mahri steps away to allow for Joan to finally get close enough to look at the cuts. The wolf shucks her clothes just in time for her body to sprout midnight black fur, the scars of her body patterned white throughout the black. Nails grew into claws, her jaw elongates, the nose shrinking back and ears shifting in shape and position on her head. Bones snapped and rearranged to leave a wolf in the woman’s place. The only thing indicating she’s not a natural wolf was her size and the silver eyes gleaming with moon-shine in them. Large paws pad silently to Lita, her large head nudging the now decompressed arm to rest on a bloodied lap. Carefully, she’ll watch Joan as she works, lips quivering as each wince or sound of pain reached lupine ears, eliciting a soft growl of warning.

Lita was not typically partial to the vials of blood and bloodwines healers and vampires alike tended to partake of. Convenient, sure, but she'd always preferred a good hunt. Or at least a vein. But she can't argue with the fact that Joan is right, even if she hates it. So she takes the vial, emptying it. At least the pain in her arm dulls to a throb as Mahri pops the limb back into its proper socket. She might try and snag the collar of Mahri's coat to drag her close for a kiss before the she-wolf pulls away to let that shift loose and Lita can't help but watch, mesmerized. She almost forgets to try and be helpful. With her arm mobile again, she reaches towards her left side where that wound is, lithe fingers tearing at the rip in the fabric of her dress. There was no saving it now and no need, there were others. But it would at least allow Joan some room to work. And for a moment she's a good patient, remaining still and patient. At least the bleeding had lessened considerably. But once the she-wolf's head settles in her lap, Lita leans forward, wincing as she lays her right arm loose around the wolf's neck and turns her cheek against the warm fur of her head. Between wisps of dark hair she watches Joan working and when her hands shake a little, she buries her fingers into the wolf's fur. "Good thing you were here I guess." She says, trying to make a bad joke. "Good night for a run."

Joan watched Mahri's transformation out of the corners of her glowing eyes, rather impressed and she said as much, the only other transformation she had witness was that wendigo, and believe her the vampire was impressed and sacred just slightly in all her many decades of unlife. The knocking of Lita's shoulder up and back into place by Mahri impressed her even more, since Joan had very limited interaction with the public she was always surprised by what the general public could do in the heat of the moment. Perhaps the lycan should also apply to the guild, everyone with even just a limited basic understanding was needed! But that was a conversation for another time.' "We can move you now, I'd prefer to have you in the clinic and on a clean medical table before I attempt to stitch you up, besides in that basket I have the basic novice medical kits for you, Lova and that bear fellow." She smiles warmly enough that the few crow lines she had crinkled up at the corner of her glowing eyes as she looks between the black furred lycan and vampire.

Mahri chuffed her response, ears turning back towards Lita’s voice. She’d much rather be running and hunting the forests to the north than be here, the scent of Lita’s blood in her nose. Though her eyes narrowed slightly, she still watched everything that Joan was doing. When she suggested moving Lita, the wolf bared her teeth and growled, pushing up onto Lita’s lap so her paws rested on her thighs. Hackles rose and the answer was a clear no, they were not moving her even a little bit. It’s not like Lita could get an infection and if such a thing would happen, Mahri would take care of her lover. Ears flatten against a squared skull, the growl vibrating through her body, muscles trembling with tension, ready to spring into action to protect the artist.

"No clinics." Lita blurts out before she can try and soften the words. Leo might be used to them. Actually he was usually just passed out in them, really. But she'd go crazy with people staring and poking and whatever else. She'd let Mahri eat every doe-eyed ingenue in the guild first. Or bleed to death. And then the wolf could do what she dang well pleased. She sighs softly and sits up a little straighter, tries to remind herself to be more grateful for the help. Seems Mahri has the same idea, and Lita groans a halfhearted playful complaint as she leverages her paws into her lap. "Just stitch it up? Put some salve on it maybe? It's either that or I limp back to my shop and burn it closed." Unless Joan wanted to try her hand at that option. Wouldn't be the first time Lita had done it. Though she might be bluffing. What with Trix's dagger making her even more susceptible to fire damage these days. Rude. She ignores any look she might be getting from the wolf right now. "Hey," she says a bit more gently, tugging at the she-wolf's ear a little to get her attention. "Hey, after this I need a favor. You're not gonna like it, or probably me for it, but I need you to trust me okay?"

Joan Held up her free hand, the fresh clean roll of large bandage laid pooled in her lap and the other held that small bottle of antiseptic to show she'd not fight the black furred lycan nor the other vampire woman. "Sorry, I'm more use to a clinical setting or a morgue slab when I go to stich up folks. Whatever you are comfortable with I'm good with. Can you please lay back down and I'll get to work, sound good?! You will also still be getting that basic kit." The antiseptic in lightly poured onto a large square of the bandage as she awaited the two other women's choice. The choice of closing the wound with fire made the vampiric healer wince slightly as she could only image the pain it would cause the other vampire. She was not a personal fan of causing a wounded patient under her care more pain then what was needed.

Mahri settled back down after Lita voiced her own objections, once again resting her head on Ace’s lap. Whatever Joan made up her mind to do, the wolf half whined, half growled her response to Lita’s statement. Of course she wasn’t going to like it. Whatever Lita was planning, it likely involved some sort of dangerous endeavor that could quite possibly take the vampire from her. But she was asking to be trusted, so what else could the lycan do but do as asked. Once Lita relaxed and laid back as requested, if she did, Mahri jumps up onto the ledge of the statue’s platform, arranging her large body with her nose near the crook of Lita’s neck and shoulder. To answer the woman’s question, yes, she’ll trust she knows what she’s doing, or is at least mildly confident in her decision – by giving her a wolf’s kiss on her cheek. Leaving behind a warm, wet trail from her tongue.

Lita softens a little at the edges. She'll blame Mahri. "I know, I'm sorry." She says to Joan. It's all the apology she's likely to get and more than most ever do. She moves slowly to lay back at the statue's base, turning a little onto her side so Joan can reach her ribs better without straining. She didn't much care if it was pretty or not, it just needed to hold together longer enough to heal properly. "You're disgusting." She squints up at the wolf as she licks her cheek, leaving behind a trail of what can only be defined as wet. "Appreciate you trekkin' the supplies out this way." She says to Joan, mostly to keep herself distracted, lifting a hand up to scratch at Mahri's head affectionately. She makes no mention of what might have happened earlier in the night and doesn't have any plans to just yet. "There's probably others at the clinic that could use your help after me." She says finally, trying to be helpful. "Wasn't all my blood after all."

Joan waited long enough for Lita to shift and move down into the requested position before she swiped that doused cloth square bandage over around and on the seeping cut, it didn't look to jagged as Joan let her icy pale fingers lightly prod at the bloody wound, she prepares another clean bandage square of cloth to dam the rest of the blood, it had slowed after the fresh blood Lita ingested worked on her system, thank the gods for being undead and healing quicker then the other beings. Applying some pressure with her other hand, Joan had pulled out of her kit a tiny spool of thread, this one for medical use clearly, a small bone needle joins along with a tiny pair of small very sharp scissors is added, once she deems the blood to be properly trickling down she quickly goes to works with both hands, threading the bone needle quickly and pulling a decent amount through the eye she works to snip the length then work a tiny knot at the end. "Okay Lita this will be quick, bare with me." Joan sets to piecing Lita's flesh with the threaded bone needle and speed along, threading close the wound, her other icy pale hand was used to lightly pinch the jagged wounded flesh as close together as possible, making tiny neat closed flesh threading. Done so it would lessen any possible lingering scar if there would be one later on. Joan could make sure there would be hardly any scar but that involve magical healing, and Lita didn't seem okay with that. "Once you feel this knitting close wait till the flesh comes together without any seeping. Then come to any healer and have them remove the stitches because if you don't your body will adsorb it." She's snip the thread and ties another tiny knot against Lita's flesh before moving to clean her hands with the small flask of antiseptic, moving away enough distance from the lycan and now patched up vampire. She'd move to place her used tools away after cleaning the bone needle and scissors. "Alrighty. I'd pop in and check." She tucks her kit closed and away before moving to release the magical barrier over the wicker basket, she'd rummage in it till she came across one of the three basic novice medical field kits and place it before the vampire and lycan. "That is yours, congrats once again on making it into the guild and I hope to be working with you in better circumstances."

Mahri half closes her eyes and tilts her head into the scratching, her lips pulling back and the tip of her tongue laying over k-9 teeth in a wolfish grin. She listened to the conversation between vampires. Did she trust Joan? Absolutely not. She’s not pack or guild and had not proven she could be trusted by the alpha. While Joan stitches up Lita, Mahri licks away the blood she can smell that isn’t Lita’s. She’ll be careful about that, about taking in any of the vampire’s own blood. Mahri watches closely as flesh is stitched together, offering comfort should Lita show any discomfort at all with a soft whine of sympathy. Once Joan is done, the bleeding stopped and kit laid near by, Mahri sighs and closes her eyes, debating whether or not she should shift back or offer Lita a ride home. To have that discussion she suggested earlier.

Lita can only nod at Joan as she sets to work. She'd have welcomed Leo or Lora happening by with a flask just then. Or to rummage through Mahri's coat pockets for one but the garment is too far just now for he to reach. Is it selfish to wish she could hold her lover's hand just now? Probably but she wishes it anyway. She holds her breath as Joan works steadily. She can only nod briefly when the work is done, ignoring what should be sage advice about having the stitches properly removed. But she does take the little medical kit the fellow vampire produces. She shifts slowly to sit up, her nose wrinkling slightly as the skin pulls against those fresh stitches. She'll move to slowly gather Mahri's clothes, shrugging into the woman's coat, the medical kit stuffed into a pocket. "I owe you a tattoo." She says to Joan finally. It's not up for debate. She'd leave Mahri's clothes if the woman opted go shift back to her human self, but hell would have to freeze over before she'd accept a ride home. All the same, she was heading back towards the center of town and then north towards the Kraken.

Mahri waits for Lita to gather her clothes, she had no intentions on shifting back, and put on her jacket, to which she snorts. It figures, the vampire was always trying to steal it. Not that Mahri minded. She liked having the scent of the vampire on it when she wore it after. Lita will have a wolf at her side, offering support if not a ride should she need a furry crutch. Casting one last look over her shoulder before following to the Kraken, Mahri offers an incline of her head in thanks to Joan.