RP:Threading the Needle

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc

Part of the What You Leave Behind Arc

Summary: Bastion uses his acupuncture to help save lives in the aftermath of the devastation of Larket, while Celaeno helps make him the needles he needs to perform his near-miracles!

Larket, Mere Hours After The Battle

Bastion had a good bearing of Larket's status atm. Sort of. His omnivision allowed him to gaze all around the city, taking in the breadth and scope of the devastation. The invading army had done a number. Bastion was quick to get to work, finding guild healers and offering his services administering aid alongside them. They were shorthanded, and quick to accept. They didn't treat him as a skilled worker, but he was fine with that... there plenty of wounded civilians and soldiers alike who needed fresh water, changed bandages, and balms for their pain... which he could provide better than almost any other healer around. He applied needles to a man groaning in pain from a nearly fatal wound, and the man quieted down instantly, looking up at him with disbelieving, thankful eyes. "Just rest, sir. Leave the needle there, it'll keep the pain away for as long as you leave it." He was going to need more needles. A lot more.

Celaeno followed in the boy's wake, looking around the wounded laying out with busy healers bustling alongside them with a relatively stoic face. She held a stack of clean linen in one hand and a bowl full of water in the other. A guild healer nearby barked for more bandages and she tore off a few strips of the linen with her teeth, tucking the rest of the fabric under her arm, before handing it over and offering the bowl of water. The healer took a rag and wet it against the patient's forehead, a small comfort while he wrapped a recently cauterized wound that had ended in someone losing their foot. A small layer of sweat broke out across Cela's forehead, but she returned to lurking within earshot to her escort to the place, keeping a literal stiff upper lip as her heart did a dance against her ribs, waiting for further direction. Bastion was called upon to help with the most grievously wounded, as his abilities were noticed. Patients thought to be past help were stabilizing, due to his abilities. With his needles, he seemed to be able to stimmy pain, push back infections, stop even internal bleeding, and more miraculous things. Hell, one patient threatening to tear open their stitches from dry heaving had his stomach settled by Bastion's needles. Until... he ran out of needles. "I need more. I only carry a few dozen at a time... I'm just not prepared for war relief." He seemed quite distraught. "I don't know where I can get more. These were all custom make... I need needles." He looked to Celaeno for help, but couldn't imagine she'd have any better idea of how to obtain needles in an emergency.

Celaeno balked some at the desperation in the boy's voice. He would be right that she wouldn't know where to get the specific kind he needed, but when faced with a problem, her mind tended to kick in. Her attention flitted over the area. Needles, needles...those used to sew might suffice, perhaps, but if they were custom make. She put up a finger, signalling Bastion to wait, and strode down the lines of wounded in their beds. What could she be thinking? Her gaze seemed to linger longer on those with gaping wounds whose healers or surgeons seemed to be wrapping up their work before moving on to the next one. She bent down next to someone who had just snipped the bloody thread from its neatly woven stitches and set it on a cloth at his feet. Cela offers the water with one hand, innocently enough, while the other darts for the gore soaked needle on the ground. All she needed was a test model, just one. She could replace it once she'd confirmed her idea... When the healer denied the bowl with a shake of his head and stood, she went with him and strolled back toward the horned boy. With his exceptional eyesight, he probably would see her slip the sewing needle into her molded palm and tuck both her hands under her sleeves. A bit of fiddling in there, some metal tapping against metal and the distinct scent of burning greeted Bastion's nose as she approached him. "What are the specifications of what you need? Do be precise, please."

Bastion blinked at Celaeno for a moment, before he figured out what she meant. He gave her the dimensions... thin, long. Suited to finding specific points where he could inject his Ki into the person's energy. If she could take other needles or bits of medal and mold them to suit his needs on the spot... they might be able to do incredible things, here. They might be able to save hundreds of lives. He looked very hopeful, as he watched her work.

Celaeno nodded along, her hands working by themselves under her robe sleeves as she prepped for her impromptu exercise. "One benefit of having artificial limbs is being able to turn off my sense of touch." She was not a metal-mancer by any means, but she had studied a great deal about smithing when researching how exactly to commission her hands. The silver material should have burned as it lit to a white hot hue, but other runes glowed just as brightly, apparently shielding the silver from melting like the sewing needle's tip did in her careful hands. She stretched it, then the flames vanished and a slick bit of oil took its place, dousing the thin metal in her hand, to to speak. She repeated this process several times, her nose wrinkling with concentration and clicking fingers working as quickly as her mind. She doused the new needle a final time and presented it to Bastion for inspection. "Is it adequate? I can produce more, but the how depends on what we have on hand."

Bastion took the needle and gave it a quick inspection by charging it with Ki. "It'll do. Can you make more?A lot more?" He was already applying it to the patient, easing their pain, and settling their bowels. They wouldn't be able to safely move to move them for days, not without life threatening complications. "There are so many. We can help them, if we can make more needles. Please, Celaeno! I need your help." He was not above humbling himself and begging. After all, on a vow of poverty he survived by charity, his whole life.

Celaeno 's cheeks flushed bright and she rummaged around in her backpack for some more metal bits she could use. "Oh nonsense, you would get along just fine without me," she said under her breath as she caught a few sets of curious eyes on her. There was some copper...she pulled out a pouch that jingled and opened it. There was about a hundred copper pieces mixed in with a few silvers. That should do for the time being until she figured out what runic combinations she'd need to make solid copies so she wouldn't run out of money completely. She becan elongating the first copper piece in the pouch into another needle of the same size and shape. After about five, she wouldn't even need to look at her hands as they worked and she ran through her coppers like a mechanical device.

Bastion used the needles as fast as she could produce them. It was many long hours before he was ready to call it quits... in fact, he wouldn't stop until he felt there was nothing else for him to do in stabilizing those on death's door, as though any lost life were on his hands. By the end of it, he could barely stand, and was sweating fiercely. He washed his hands in a water basic, scrubbing them with lye soap. "Celaeno... thank you. So much. Those people owe you their lives. I couldn't have done anything to help them without those needles. I didn't know I could accomplish that much with copper! I'll have to add that to the metals for my custom orders. Err... I might ask you to make more. I feel like... I'll need a lot more in the days to come. I don't have money to pay you with, but I'll do anything you need! I can give you an acupuncture treatment that'll cure all your ills." Perhaps literally.

Celaeno seemed to be panting by the end of everything as well. Doing those little spells to alter a substance she already had sucked less of her own energy than attempting to form something out of this air (not her forte), but doing that many in a row still took its toll. She noticed a similar affect on Bastion as he came to the end of that batch and she kneels by him to catch her own breath and look him over. She pats his shoulder, in more of a companionly manner than a mothering one. "I prefer to deal in favors, but this was an interesting enough challenge that I don't consider it a debt. Perhaps next time I'll work with silver, that seems to take magic better than bronze, definitely better than iron. I can attempt to transmute it into the new shape rather than 'smith' it. It should build up my stamina." Despite that she was a bit more ragged for wear, like she had taken a long jog and covered a decent distance, she smiled with her ramblings. Figuring out that particular puzzle seemed to put her in high spirits.

Bastion nodded. "I've noticed that silver works better than most metals for my purposes, but it's much more expensive, and I've nothing to pay with. Vow of Poverty, and all that." He only had one or two objects of any real value, but they were either sentimental or absolutely necessary for his needs or both. "Well, it's hard for me to get the needles I need. Soon, I need to go talk with the guild healers. They let me help, but I think maybe I can help more if I work with them, and the like. I hope I can help more. There are still so many people suffering, and all these victims, even if they survive, have to look forward to rebuilding. Who knows if they'll even be able to feed all these mouths while they try... especially if war is brewing." He looked towards the concentration camp, frowning. "Perhaps those witch hunt camps can be re purposed, for something good."

Celaeno grins and nods along with the academic discussion of metals. "Copper and bronze are more study for making materials than silver as well, which is why they're so cheap. They would make the ideal middle ground for enchantment, though they will use up a bit more energy than the silver would. Iron is certainly the worst, though, despite being the sturdiest. It's always repelled my magic, which is why I need to get creative if I ever work with it." She could deal with that subject just fine. When Bastion mentions joining the formal healers' guild, then starts to speak of the ominous cloud of impending war, she follows his gaze to a camp of sorts. (ooc Going to assume a vague description here). Walled off and gated, probably in some sort of ruin to make her squint to figure out what it was used for. The words "witch hunt" makes her lip curl, though, as she tucks her hands under her sleeves, hiding them from view as if someone were watching in secret for signs she belonged there. "Is that what this mess is about? Rooting out magical practitioners or stopping that kind of barbarism? I thought this place more civilized than that. It has so many libraries..."

Bastion shook his head. "Larket has been plagued by violence and mystical misfortune for a while. Witches are openly persecuted by the crown, gathered up and tortured or outright killed. The citizenry and crown blames them for their recent misfortunes. Something is wrong, though I have no concrete proof. But this wasn't caused by that. There was an army here, all of a sudden. I don't know who's, or why. But it was composed of... horrible things. Orcs, and werewolves, and demons, from what I've heard. There were undead, monsters that defied the imagination. Whoever put together such a fell host is a force to be reckoned with. And there's been other terrible unrest elsewhere in the lands... I have a feeling they're connected. It's all conjecture, though."

Celaeno shudders a bit, rather unpleasant memories of being run out of towns rather viciously because of her mentor's proclivities coming to her. She glances around, at the fenced in camp, at the wounded who seemed to grateful and friendly as they had turned to traitorous spies behind her back. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Is it safe for us to be here so openly? Had I known, I would have been a tad less conspicuous," she said, an edge of frustrated anxiety in her voice.

Bastion put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm known here. We should be alright. And you've been seen helping with the wounded, as well. But I've heard some more of the rumors... I think this fiend, this 'Kahran' played on the witch hunting madness to further the schism in Larket. I think their hatred for witches is greater than ever. If I'm hearing right, most of the witches from the camp died, and their leader has been captured. But the armies of this fiend have been driven back, and right now, I'm going to be kept occupied with recovery efforts. I don't know how much I'll be able to help whatever witches might be left alive." He got a few looks at the mention of helping witches, and there were whispers about his support of the queen, that he'd gone to visit her, and she'd seemed gladdened by his visit. He certainly hadn't been allowed to see the prince or king. But they're whispers were quiet, and they were few, and most disregarded them. Bastion was protected most by his innocence, his trustworthiness, and his incredible natural charisma. People trusted him, as though by mere instinct, or magical persuasion.

Celaeno didn't seem to be put anymore at ease as her shoulder stiffened under his hand. Her mouth goes back to its grim line and she continues to address him in a low whisper," I will still help, but I think I'm going to shift my methods somewhat and prepare these ahead of time for you...further from the city." While Bastion had that natural innocence and good nature that shined clearly for all to see, Celaeno had no such luck with others, another quality her twin had stolen from her cells when they split in the womb. "I will also have to find a way to disguise the...odd nature of my hands some. If a mob decides to make itself at my expense, I am sorry to say I will defend myself and make things worse. Best to avoid that if at all possible."

Bastion winced. "You are innocent, and under my protection. Should anything happen, I will defend you as best I can." Well, that may come at some surprise... but even in this child form, Bastion was a force to be reckoned with, with his martial arts. It seemed he was prepared to tackle an angry mob for her. "But you should just let me handle it if that happens, alright? Please trust me." Then he hugged her. He gave her a big ol' hug, like she was a long time friend, or even family.

Celaeno froze a moment at the hug. She hadn't gotten a proper hug in...she'd lost count of the time, since before her sister passed on. The pressure was odd, comforting to a part of her that still clung to childhood. She gives a paltry return gesture, patting the boy's back and head with the tips of her fingers, as light at she could. "I...appreciate the gesture. I'm not fond of confrontation myself, not very good at it in all honesty. I'm sure you're right, I doubt it'll come to that." Anything to make him feel better.

Bastion knew when someone was trying to placate him, but he wanted her to feel safe. She could help just as much from a distance as she could from here, and he decided that'd probably be best. "We'll find you a set up outside of town, and have someone trustworthy run the needles. If need be, I'll come myself." He didn't plan on getting a noteable amount of rest for a good, long while. Again, thank you so much, Celaeno. We're helping a lot of people, people caught up in horrors and helpless against them. People scared, and confused, and full of sorrow over the loss of loved ones. I can't turn a blind eye to their suffering." Ever. No matter their crimes.

Celaeno nodded, patting just his back now as patting his head seemed too condescending for the situation. When he let go she would sit back on her knees and tuck her hands in her sleeves, seemingly a favored position for her, making her feel a bit more safe, a bit more at ease. "Of course. I wouldn't ask you to deny that calling. It's important the world has some people who hold to it no matter what. I can only imagine what other place I would be if someone had come to me during that trying time..." She glances around, over her shoulder at the wounded. Despite Bastion's reassurances, old suspicions still nagged at her. "I can...craft somewhere over the bridge perhaps. Or in the library to the west, if that's not too far."