Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109 
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Post by Gigi on Mar 12, 2019 20:09:31 GMT
It was a run gone bad. The routine changed, each week, on who did what for the Little Birds. And everyone was on the roster for runs. Supply runs. Food runs. Actual postal runs. Plunder runs. They were all runs, and everyone was put into the rotation. Even the group's healers. The fire that exploded behind her from the pissed off cook she'd tried to nick from sent heat up her back. Hugging her 'borrowed' wait staff jacket tighter to herself, Gigi booked it, sliding down to her hip to skid underneath a large prep table to try and reach the back door that she'd originally entered from. The pink haired outlaw was in the nicer part of the trade's district fine dining area, the Grey Serpent - a dining experience that had their main door stretch into patio seating into the main road of the Way of the Dragon. She'd thought she'd timed it right. Managing to sneak in with a blonde wig and tight-to-the-wrist serving jacket, apron - the whole ensemble to pass as a server of the Serpent. Had a covered tray all stocked full of meat, all sorts of cuts, already trimmed and seasoned and had juuuuuust about made it through the cold-spelled door when she'd turned, both hands holding the heavy tray, to come face to face with the head chef himself. Who knew the chef could make flame-exploding bottles of liquor that fast. Or that he had the funds to waste that many bottles of vodka. Grabbing the threshold of the door with her metal hand Gigi swung herself around the corner, missing getting hit yet again by a flying bottle of lit-up booze. They were cheaper than alchemist fires, she mused as she ran, wig starting to slide off to show pink at the roots. But still. A waste. "That's 20 pounds of meat you tossed on the ground!" The chef shouted behind her, still chasing her. "Pfht, it was at least 25." She corrected him to herself as she shoulder-thudded into the back door -finally- and frantically twisted the knob to get out. A glass bottle exploded on her shoulder, and Gigi yelped in reaction. The wig was whipped off, and so was the jacket - booze soaked they were. She did not want to catch more on fire then she already was. See… this? This right here? This is why she hated being sent on runs that caused her to abandon her leather jacket. And her boots. And her favorite pants. Which she at least was able to keep on since the bottle had caught her on the back instead of the butt. It was easier to shed a jacket then it was a pair of pants. "Shit. Fuck. Damn!" She yelped again as a knife flew through the air to embed in the door over her head from how she'd ducked. "Seriously! It's just meat!" She shouted as the man advanced, and retroactively Gigi decided that targeting the kitchen of someone who clearly butchered his own animals, and was quite good at it if his arm muscles were any indication, had been a bad choice. Kicking the flaming wig and jacket towards him Gigi scrambled to all fours, then up to her knees, to push the door open, falling down as she tripped slightly before regaining her balance to continue running now properly on her feet again. The alleyways behind the inn were wide and expansive, more of a sheltered patio for the other surrounding cafes and shops that had a back entrance to their main store fronts than anything soiled or ruined like over in the slums area. Not looking as to where she was going at all Gigi ran - Momma would be disappointed that she'd brought so much attention to her escape… but fuck that. She never kept quiet when she was sent on runs. She was shit at them. It was better for everyone if she just stayed in the med room or accompanied a larger group as backup. But the rules were the rules. Everyone did runs. The gasps and exclamations of the few citizens enjoying the early evening around her in the alley put another determined burst of speed in her stride. She didn't need witnesses. She didn't need reports of a pink haired, metal arm woman running around. She'd have to curve around back to pick up her jacket from the crate she'd stored it in, but it would be hard. The shatter of glass at her feet and the lick of flames at her ankles had Gigi stopping and turning around. "You're gonna hit someone else around here if you keep that shit up!" She shouted, aghast. Only to see another bottle sailing directly for her face. Flinching, she did her best to cover her face with her metal arm, resigning herself taking the blow and to needing to pick glass out of her skin by the time the run was through. Ossular Social up for Goromitali! |
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Post by Ossular on Mar 13, 2019 22:10:33 GMT
(Luck roll for personal use. Didn't actually mean to add the modifier, but I can't edit it out, sooooo-)
SMazlf_H1d20+4
There was some commotion from down the alleyway, which caught the attention of a particularly stealthy green dragonborn. Attention had been taken away from the person pinned to the walls as he turned his head for one moment. The man, smaller in stature than the humanoid holding him, would swing and flail wildly, hitting Goromitali's arms, causing him to drop and run. The dragonborn would growl, turning his attention to the thug that had just broken free from his grasp. Spitting a tooth in the dragonborn's general direction, a mix of saliva and blood, he'd wipe across his mouth, pull his handback, and rub his jaw.
"Yer' gonna pay for that, you bith green th*cker! Yer' dead!" He would start running, and Goromitali would stop after another step. He would turn to look down the alleyway, seeing a woman with pink hair and an interesting style, and she would seem to be in trouble. Goromitali would look at her, look back to the man running into the street, then snarl under his breath.
There would be three footsteps that would be heard, the large dragonborn more quiet than others his size, and as the woman with the pink hair recoiled, covering her face with her arms, there would be a dull thud a couple of feet in front of her.
Monk's Deflect Missile ability:
1d10+5
The dragonborn that had appeared had caught the bottle that was flying straight for her face, and he would turn to look at where exactly it had come from. That man... looked angry, but whatever the woman with the pink hair had done, it surely wasn't worth a bottle of alcohol and starting fires across Waterdeep. Still, though, Goromitali looked back, as Gigi surely lowered her hands in the presence of the body-shield dragonborn, and his chartreuse slits met with her eyes of gold. Goromitali would look into her eyes for a moment before turning back to the man down the alleyway. Pulling the rag of fire from the top of the bottle, Goromitali would stomp out the fire before lobbing it back at the man.
Deflect Missile's Reaction ability:
1d20+5
No matter the end result, if the angry man ducked out of the way or not, Goromitali would turn back to the woman. "We should probably go. Now," he had let his own quarry get away, for some reason, so he was going to at least make sure this woman got to safety instead.1d20+4·1d10+5·1d20+5
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 13, 2019 23:53:59 GMT
The dull clink of the bottle being caught pulled Gigi out of her flinch, looking between her elbow and forearm to see that a something? Someone? Had stepped in front of her and the bottle. She looked up, then up and up some more to finally see the slitted eyes staring down at her. "Sup." She lifted her head and popped the 'p', as if this were completely natural and no-where near strange or that the reason she was in this mess potentially, totally, wasn't illegal.
The moment he turned though to throw the bottle - Gigi was already running again. Fuck yes, if that… lizard man wanted to get in the middle of this and risk his own ass? By ol' means, he could. She had a jacket to pilfer out from behind the crate she'd stashed it in. And her boots. Really she felt half naked in just her 'borrowed' serving pants and crop top she'd kept on under the 'borrowed' serving jacket and apron. The slipper like shoes she had been wear into to go with it all had been kicked off the moment she'd been spotted - she was barefoot by this point.
She didn't even pause to glance over her shoulder, amateur move - it'd just slow her down, Gigi ran down the rest of the alleyway and took a left first chance she had back down the alley.
The chef was angry pulling off his leather apron now to get rid of the burning liquid running down his front. "Guards! Guards! Thief! Stop that thief! The big one's her compatriot too! Get them both!" He shouted now, pointing at the standing still Goromitali. Civilians had already gestured in a pair of city guard down the hallway and were talking quickly. Part gossip, part re-telling, part idle chatter at the excitement of being around something so 'dangerous' as a thief and her muscled protection was going to be abuzz the Sea and Castle Ward's nobility soon.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 14, 2019 4:32:23 GMT
"Thief?" the dragonborn would tilt his head, pausing for just a moment, blinking, as if trying to understand the situation. No, Goromitali was no thief- he was Goromitali, and he was merely preventing a woman from getting a molotov cocktail to the face and upper body. He would look past the chef to the crowd that was starting to gather, and from there, he would focus in on two guards that were easy enough to pick out of the crowd with their armor and shields.
Goromitali had a choice here. Goromitali could have either stayed here and explained why he had done what he had done. Sure, he'd get off free in the long run, but he didn't need to be on record for anything with his ultimate purpose here. It would only make his revenge that much more complicated in the end, so the dragonborn went with the second option that came through his mind.
He ran.
Sliding around the same corner that Gigi had gone down, taking the left, the dragonborn moved with a trained lightness, catching up to the slightly slower woman with the pink hair. "You are a thief?" he would ask, slowing down to match her speed. The monk was confused- all he had seen was a person in need, but by this point? He'd be an accomplice, especially considering that he had thrown the bottle back at the man. That was probably at least assault, maybe pushed into attempted murder. Either way, they were in this together, so it was very likely they would get to know each other moderately fast.
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 15, 2019 16:31:04 GMT
"Only if you're my accomplice." She shot back, running effortlessly - or so she thought. The speed in which the lizard man had caught up to her had surprised her a bit. She'd thought she'd ditched him a turn ago, leaving him to deal with the mess with the chef. She did a double take as he kept pace with her. Shit he was huge. How was he running so fast? Gigi always pictured herself as being in shape. She ate well. Exercised to work off her sweets habit. Got sleep for the most part. Purged the smoke damage from her lungs at the end of every cigarette with a bit of a healing magic surge. She was good. But shit. The lizard was big. Her path took them behind a few more buildings, climbing over some alleyway debris, but generally keeping a constant forward 'move' motion. She didn't say much, hoping he'd just leave already - they were bound to get caught with how tall he was. Nevermind her own distinct look. When it was clear he wasn't going away, sticking to her like a shadow, Gigi sighed and pushed her hair back behind her ear. Whatever. She took them in a wide circle, never crossing the Way of the Dragon though, but staying in-between all the buildings surrounding the Grey Serpent. She needed to get her boots and jacket. Slowing she held up a hand to signal a stop, fist in the air with a bent elbow. They were only a building or so away from the delivery entrance of the fancy restaurant she'd made her mark. The alley was dingy here, despite being in the nicer part of the ward. "Alright, listen." She turned to the side, then had to adjust her viewing angle upwards. "We can't be seen this close again, it won't look good at all. But I need my jacket and boots. They're shoved in the grating behind the screen, there-" She pointed to a metal grate several yards away. Only the most keen eyes would see a small bird symbol etched on the stone near the bottom corner. "So I'm going to head over, snag 'em back before anyone else from the shop comes out to see if we dare come back in the commotion, then be on my way. You can be on your way. It'll be fine." She was speaking in hushed tones, slightly out of breath from trying to increase her running to match a pace that might have winded him. It hadn't worked.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 15, 2019 19:17:30 GMT
"I am no accomplice," the dragonborn would still be keeping pace with her. "I am Goromitali." Where as the healer may have kept herself in the best shape possible, she wasn't the only one. Goromitali had a schedule, and that schedule included eating clean, healthy food, staying away from anything made by a gnome that had more than three parts or colors, and trips to one of the many wagon yards that were around Waterdeep to help merchants unload heavy crates and boxes. Combined with his own training and meditations in the mornings, the large dragonborn was in excellent health.
The pathway was weird, and at points, it seemed that the woman with the pink hair tried to clip him out, or not move over to let Goromitali around the various obstacles. At one point, Goromitali jumped up and moved along the roofs and balconies before she stopped and held her fist up. As if on queue, the large dragonborn would land with a quiet thud, much more quiet than what should have sounded off from him falling from about ten feet.
He would unfurl, a couple scrapes across his form from the fight he had been a part of before this, but otherwise physically sound. As she spoke, his tongue would run over the top of his teeth, just under his lips before he tilted his head to the side, taking in what she was saying, his eyes going over to a grate with some kind of inscription on it, then back to her.
"Alright," Goromitali would nod. "I will watch from here to make sure you get your jacket and boots," his voice like a quiet thunderstorm in the distance. "I will keep a look out for you to get your stuff back." Either way, if she wanted it or not, the dragonborn would be doing this.
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 15, 2019 19:36:52 GMT
Frowning she huffed quietly through her nose. It seemed he wasn't getting the hint. "You really can just leave." She bluntly said before vaulting over the few crates they were crouching behind and making her way towards the grate. She didn't need a lookout. Especially not someone who wasn't even part of the Birds. This was a solo run to begin with on top of it.
Muttering to herself at the unnecessary aspect of having him stay and keep guard Gigi crept towards the grate, keeping an ear out for anyone else making their way over. The deliveries door for the Serpent was just down the alley - the original door she had both gone into, then ran out of, earlier today.
Crouching at the grate she flipped something on her metal hand so a small flat edge shot out of her thumb, allowing her to twist and work the slotted screws keeping the protective barrier up and secured to the wall. Absorbed in her task, knowing it would only take a moment or two more, she didn't notice right away that the door she was trying to keep out of sight from had opened.
Stepping out was, perhaps, someone not expected. An average height, sleek elven woman, stepped out wearing the neutral and elegant grey and greens of the Grey Serpent. A string of beads were in her hand - and the moment she saw Gigi? Her eyes turned red as she plucked a bead off the string.
"Fuck shit damn" she exhaled.
Gigi noticed the newcomer as the bead was being pulled off. It was mostly due to the fact she's tugged the grate free and turned to set it to the side. Immediately she shifted to throw the grate like a disk, metal arm having no problem whipping it down the alley. Swearing under her breath she reached in to grab at her boots and jacket, not having enough time to put on either of them, before she started running once more. She would have left Goromitali, was it? Had the Serpent's renown 'enforcer', Stacia, not been blocking the other way.
Behind her the bead that had been plucked, a shiny vibrant red-orange thing of fire-like beauty, was sent flying down the alley. The shell cracked, a spark of chemical reaction occurred, and the bead began to blossom into a raging inferno that was well on its way to purging anything and everything in the alley. Crates. Barrels. Trash. Gigi and Goromitali. No big deal.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 15, 2019 19:55:49 GMT
Goromitali keeping a watch on Gigi after she had made her way toward the grate before watching for people in a way that would be similar to duck-duck-goose. The first duck was a person in armor way down past where Gigi was, probably from the commotion before. They didn't look this way, so nothing happened. The second duck was a rat that scurried past the dragonborn's taloned digit. Goose would be when the sleek eleven woman would step into the alley, and as Goromitali twisted his head, she moved something in her hands. That small bead, barely perceivable at this distance, would turn bright orange, almost like a sun, and maybe it was the color that caught his attention.
Gigi would fling the grate toward her, though the elven woman jumped to the side. Goromitali moved toward Gigi as the explosion clapped, sucking in air before shooting outwards. The cleric would see Goromitali's legs pulse with a flicker of energy, and he would make his way toward her even faster than they had been moving through the alleyways. His massive form quickly and quietly slid pass the cleric of the graves, before he turned behind her.
The wave of sonic force would explode outwards, a wave of heat going over both of them. The dragonborn would step forward, and in two steps, would scoop up Gigi, arms grappling around her.
The fire would overtake them between the second and third step, with the main part of the explosion consuming both of them. Goromitali would take the majority of the explosion as both of them were flung away by the flames from the bead that had been thrown their way. Shielding Gigi, the dragonborn and her would be flung away from the impact, with Goromitali's burnt body hitting the ground at about the same time, then bouncing a couple more feet before coming to a slumped, unconscious heap on the ground a couple feet away from Gigi, who despite the explosion, would still be conscious.
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 15, 2019 21:02:29 GMT
For a long moment Gigi just laid there, dazed from the knocks and hits she'd taken as the bead from the fireball necklace ignited the alley. It was quiet as all rats, mice, crates, and more were turned to dust. Quiet as the lizard man lay motionless against the wall they'd been thrown into. Where she would have been thrown into if he hadn't gotten over to her as fast as he had.
It didn't make sense, unless.. She tried wracking her brain for anything that would give a clue as to how he had gotten so close so quick. Had she seen his legs flicker? She'd thought it was just the heat wave starting to flash around them. But no. It'd been something more. A monk? He must be a monk. It'd explain the way someone so big could move without making sound. How he had clearly been following 'her' pace when running. How he could have gotten from point A to B so swiftly. There were a good number of monks in the Birds, Open Hand style for the most part. Even a few elemental. But something about him didn't seem quite… Open Hand to her.
But that wasn't important right now. What was, was whether or not Stacia thought them both dead or not. Gigi stayed perfectly still, past when the natural stillness from hitting her head had faded. Looking up through the smoky haze she swore in a hasty jerk. She was standing right there above them. "Fucking shit."
Thinking fast Gigi raised her metal arm, the heat still uncomfortably remaining in the material, and pinched her ring finger to the palm of her hand and twisted as green lit up from her tattoos then down to her palm and zap out towards the elven woman. "Vishuddha - Ignore. Forget. Retreat." Rapid fire spellcasting and breathing heavily, Gigi spelled the crap outta her. The command spell, usually difficult to get over on an elf, sank in, no doubt encouraged by her own panic.
Slacking to rest her head on the ground when the woman turned and walked away, as if nothing had happened, Gigi groaned and ran her skin hand over her face. Fuck. Turning her head to see Goromitali still unconscious -but not dead, she'd be able to tell that- she waved a dismissive absent gesture, and the lizard stabilized.
Man that was close.
Sitting up, then standing, hand leaning against the wall Gigi looked around for her leather affects, seeing them underneath and to the side of, Goromitali. Taking her time, despite how quickly the guards would be pouring in, the healer slipped on her boots and shrugged on her jacket, not giving the unconscious man a second glance.
She was a good ten to fifteen feet away when the naggy sensation, the feeling that came across as an aasimar on her shoulder, kicked her in the back of the skull. Fucking what?! She scowled as she argued with herself. It's perfect. He'll take the fall, I'll be well away by the time he wakes up with guards around him... I did stabilize him at least... She walked another ten feet to the edge of the alley where it opened up into the main road. But something stopped her.
Was this… guilt?
Twice the unknown lizard… man… dragonborn? had jumped to her defense. Three times really, if you count keeping watch. Which… she did. Fuck. There had been no hesitation in his actions, how he'd pretty much picked her up off the ground and tucked her to his chest to survive not only the fireball, but the glass bottle from earlier too.
Groaning, frustrated with herself for not just bookin' it away, Gigi turn and walked back to the lizard. Scowling, arms crossed, she looked down at his burnt form. "I didn't ask you to do any of that shit. The bottle. Looking out. Damn nothing about the fireball… So you know. I'm not doing this for you. It's for me, so you don't turn my ass in later."
With that she huffed again as if this were the biggest inconvenience she possibly could have had today, glowed green, and placed her hands on his head and over his chest, and spoke a single word, "Anahata". A jolt of green passed from her hands to his chest and fizzled out like a net to begin curing the burnt skin all around Goromitali. As he stirred she held out her metal hand to help him stand up - "Come on big guy, I can heal you up the rest of the way - but not here. There'll be guards soon, we can't be anywhere near here."
Naggy feeling subdued for now Gigi began leading them both, quickly, then with less urgency the farther they were away they got and the closer to the slums area near the City of the Dead they walked. Leading them through shortcuts and alleys, she stayed quiet the whole time, even if he tried to encourage or start conversation, except for a curt "Not here."
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Post by Ossular on Mar 16, 2019 22:23:24 GMT
"Anahata."
As the dragonborn laid there, the green energy passing from Gigi's hands to his massive green body, the burnt skin would refresh, with some of the burnt skin peeling back and dissolving into nothingness like a snake. The burns through his body cooled as if they were doused by a nice mud bath, or an aloe ointment, and he would release his breath, quickly turning from a qiuck breathing through the healing spell to deep, quiet breaths that regulated as he stirred.
Goromitali's eyes would blink into consciousness, slowly, as the pain washed off of him; some of it, anyways. He would look up to the woman with the pink hair before his hazy vision looked around. No one else was here, so she must have healed him somehow. He would take her metal hand, and while his heavy frame would probably be a little much to help to his feet, the help at least sitting up was appreciated enough. He would get to his feet, but the woman would be moving already. Shouts of fires and destruction started to pierce the ringing in his ears, and the dragonborn would shake off the haze of pain and fire to follow her.
He tried to start a conversation, maybe once, but his "where are we going?" was hushed with a quick "not here." Whether he didn't ask again because it was a legitimate answer to his question or because of the throbbing pain still coursing through his body, though, would be left in the silence between them. Even pained, Goromitali managed to keep up with the woman with the pink hair and the golden eyes. Instead of talking, though, the monk would just study the way they were traveling. He didn't know the City of Splendors just yet, but he did recognize that they were near the City of the Dead, thanks to the wall that surrounded the graveyard he hadn't made it into for scouting just yet.
When Gigi stopped, he would stop. When she moved or turned, he would be there, like a shadow. Or a lost puppy.
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 16, 2019 22:58:23 GMT
There had been a hope that at some point during their long way around he would have given up. Would have just realized he was closer to his home, wherever that was, and just - piss off. It was hard to hear him, practically impossible. She only knew he was still there from the few times she'd turn her head to catch his profile. The walk was a longer one, having taken several turns and back tracking that could be waved away as 'keeping cover' but also in a poor bid to lose him. If they separated? Her job was done, no more responsibility.
But there he was. Standing there. Right behind her.
She lit up a cigarette.
The two were standing in the slums near the City of the Dead, just south of it. There was a smell in the air that wasn't quite right. The buildings looked a little on the 'worse' side of worse for wear, and were crooked. This one in particular? It was pretty shabby, and not anywhere in the chic way. The door was closed shut, windows shuttered closed all through the 3, maybe 4 floors it had peaking into the main street, and had no personality whatsoever.
Sighing she looked the lizardman over then turned back to face the house. "Home sweet home." She finally answered the question he'd asked ages ago. Stepping through into the house, well, there wasn't much. A small kitchenette with a round table and three chairs around it. A sitting area was to the right with a low table and slumpy couch and overstuffed chair. A stairwell was to the left of the kitchen, where Gigi was now going upwards.
"Come on, room's up here. I'll get you topped off and you can be on your way." She called down over her shoulder, a bit more at ease now that she was at home. Passing two doors to the farthest one down the short hallway -clearly the house was more narrow than anything else, but long- and opened the door to what could only be a strange mash-up of a personal bedroom and doctor's workstation.
Candles, all lighting as she waved her hand over the room in general, were everywhere. Wood was the primary building material inside, and barely any personal possessions lined the few shelves and single small bookcase pushed up against the wall - where a cigarette tray and a collection of rolling tools and materials sat. A small wardrobe was next to the window, right where the curtain separation would butt against. A small bed was in the corner with a single pillow and blanket -all sort of off color and nondescript. They were old and already well used by the time they had found a home here it would seem. No rugs warmed the floor, no paintings or decorations were on the walls. No proof of family, loved ones, or any sort of relationship indicator could be seen. A lockbox style chest was under the window, though right now it was open and seen to contain various metal working tools and scrap metal, wire, and other strange odds and ends.
What took up the larger amount of space though was a curtained off footprint with more candles, several bowls of herbs and incense, various surgical tools (all much better condition then what you would have expected), a stack of worn but clean towels, and a hybrid between a cot and a bed that seemed like it could bend in the center and be supported by stilts. Jugs of water? And other shallow dishes were on the larger workstation against the wall.
Shrugging off her jacket and tossing it on her bed Gigi turned to pull the curtain away towards the wall, so there was no temporary barrier in the room. She looked from her guest to the bed, and frowned. "Alright, so it looks like it might be a bit of a tight fit… never had to host someone as big as you here… shit…" She ran her hand through her hair, puffs of smoke rising between her lips - a dark cacco and brown sugar smell. She hoped he wasn't about to break the cot. She had the posture of someone who knew what they were doing mixed with the vocal tone of what the fuck am I doing.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 17, 2019 3:42:38 GMT
Goromitali would take in everything as they moved. Slums just south of the City of the Dead. No real windows that were open to the street outside, at least that he could percieve before walking in. The inside was just about as barren as the outside, and the dragonborn made sure to duck, the door only about six feet tall. Thankfully, the roof seemed to have more clearance for him to at least stand up properly as they moved up the stairs. Even as they moved up the stairs, in the old house, the dragonborn carried himself lightly for one his size, but even physics still applied, and the staircase still groaned under his weight.
The next hallway he moved into, he almost wedged himself with his shoulders on either side of the hallway, but carefully repositioned himself in order to walk a little more sideways than he normally would, tucking his arms in to not hit either wall. He'd unfurl once he was in what was a candle-laden workshop, and he would take it all in, carefully studying it with every quiet headtilt, every glance and every quiet inquiry. Everything was old, used and worn. No pictures or trinkets outside of the random pieces of what could only be described as Gnomish Scrap. It caught his attention, and it was about now that he realized that Gigi's hand had been made of metal- he remembered it from when she had offered it to help him up.
The curtained off portion of her room was more interesting, though, with a set-up close to something he had experienced before at the hands of his deceased wife. Incense, herbs, towels, though the bed was a little smaller than he was, it was there, and other large jugs of water. It was a medical station, or at least a place to rest.
"I could probably just sit on the floor?" Goromitali would offer. "I do not wish to break your cot," he would exhale the second hand smoke as he moved over closer to the area, quietly slinking across the room, making sure to not fully stand up or stretch with his arms above his head.
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 17, 2019 4:41:59 GMT
A sound of consideration crossed her lips, shaking the cigarette in her mouth. She looked from the cot to the no doubt cold floor, then back to the cot. "It'll hold, more or less, it's just you won't fit…" Gigi gestured with her arms to signify his height is what she was concerned with. "There's metal reinforcing it from underneath. Needed it for Pisscup's fat ass." She snorted at what must have been an inside joke, and inhaled a deep puff of her cig.
Looking around she hummed, slightly annoyed, as if this were all his fault, despite the fact everything could be traced down to her own actions of her failed run. "It's not ideal, having your limbs hanging off the cot. But it is better than you lying on the ground." She scuffed her foot against the floor, slightly embarrassed to even have the floor being considered. It wasn't that the floor was extremely dirty, she did sweep and keep the place clean - it was her workstation after all - but a floor was still a floor.
Another sound of indecision, another round of looking at the lizard to the cot to the floor, and Gigi's eyebrow lifted in sudden idea. "Hey, hold on big guy, I've got an idea." She couldn't remember for the life of her his name, she thought he'd said it once. Maybe. She'd been running at the time. With that? Gigi turned, tapped her cig on the ashtray near the window, then stepped out of the room. From outside the space another door was heard opening, closing. Another, opening, closing. Not too much time passed before she stepped back in, a bundle of fabric in her arms.
Dumping them on the floor, spreading them out to make a makeshift bedroll, Gigi arranged the blankets she'd stolen borrowed from her roommate's rooms on the ground. As a final bid to cover enough ground so her patient wouldn't touch the floor itself Gigi pulled her blanket off her own bed and spread it out. It was haphazard, disorderly, and very patchwork, but at least now he could lay down, not touch the floor, and not worry about not fitting on the cot.
She patted the floor, "Right lizardman, here ya go." She sighed and leaned back on her calves. "You're, not gonna lie, you're in pretty bad shape. Especially on your back. Anahata helped a bit, but we've a long way to go. Seriously, stepping in to take a brunt of fire spray like that? Idiot." She shook her head with a roll of her eyes. What good had he done himself stepping in like that? Never mind of course that because of his action she hadn't really been harmed, nor been taken into custody. "I'm going to ask you to remove the… leathers? Shirt? Whatever it is you have on. For burns sometimes the energy I heal with in this way can fuse the skin to other natural materials like cotton or leather, which then causes another host of problems."
"Now, besides the burns, are there any other areas that are pained or you feel are injured? Any past injuries you might have had - recently and historical, you might want me to take a look at?" How she was going to do so, she hadn't gotten to yet. But as she spoke she turned away from him to go over to the wash bin she had in the 'medical' side of the bedroom - giving the monk a moment to partially undress without her staring, the best attempt at privacy there was in the small room. Busying herself with washing her hand, using a bar of iodine based soap and a slipcover she had to go over the metal arm, she scrubbed her flesh hand then disinfected the metal with a quick burst of sacred green flame. When she did that? All the candles changed to green momentarily, then faded back to orange. "I can absolutely promise you, by my word as a healer, anything you say or confine in me, will remain between us. I will never use the knowledge gained to harm or attack you, in any way. I will sense any injuries you have once we begin, it's just easier to know where to focus form the start. So, no use trying to hide anything." It was maybe a bit blunt, the flat way she dismissed any concerns he might have had over previous injury or harm, but neither did she want to take forever in delaying her healing. Burns would scar easy if left untreated for too long.
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Post by Ossular on May 10, 2019 19:01:04 GMT
"Lizardman?" the dragonborn would tilt his head in a small amount of blunt confusion, maybe two steps removed to look around to see if there was an actual lizardman here in the room with them. Lizardmen were to dragonborn as geese were to most other birds. All lizardmen were assholes, and most normal beings did not like the cobra chicken lot of them. Still, though, Goromitali did as he was asked. Taking off the leather straps and bindings from his upper body, he set them in neat folds next to the blanket, opting to leave his pants on, though he did take off the leather bindings around his clawed feet as well.
"Well, to start, I am Goromitali," the dragonborn would speak, thinking back on the fact that he had never actually gotten a name from the healer with the pink hair. He felt, on some level, she knew that he had shielded her, so it wasn't brought up. People had also called him an idiot in the past, so it didn't bother him either way. Goromitali's charismatic aloofness was a benefit in some regards, ultimately. He would think back through her question, though- other areas that felt pained or he felt were injured? Any past injuries that he wanted her to take a look at?
"I can not think of anything outside of the burns," he spoke. Even though he had gone through hell in another dimension days prior, and even though his life in the City of Splendors had been a bit more scrappy than he had expected, and even though he had traveled through the harsh winter of the Sword Coast to get there, it never occurred to him that he still might be injured. He had taught himself to ignore pain and keep pushing forward, so any lingering effect of his tribulations of the last one-fourth of a year didn't come to mind. The stab wounds from the monstrous Cannibal? The fall and scraping through the mountains with Thea? The frostbite on his feet? The leftover magics that lingered in his wounds, despite the fact that they had been healed? The convergence of all of his experiences? A talon that had never set properly, a wrist that tilted slightly inward thanks to a break that was never properly set, a crank in the neck if he turned too far in one direction- all of this and more had just been covered over. He simply learned to walk through the pain in one foot, dulled over the years with practice and kicking. He simply punched mainly with his other hand, thanks to a wrist that would get sore if he threw a wild punch in the wrong angles. He had learned to simply listen instead of look in that direction when it came to perceiving the world around him.
It was all stuff that he never thought about- all stuff that Gigi was about to notice.
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on May 11, 2019 20:42:18 GMT
"Yeah, so you've said." She drawled as he stated his name again - the several syllable name sounding familiar upon hearing it a second time. "Alright then, Goromitali, let's see if you're as clean as you say you are."
The candlelight filling the room pulled the atmosphere into a peaceful cave-like environment when she drew the curtains closed and made sure the door was shut. As Goromitali laid down Gigi expanded on the procedure.
"I will be placing my metal hand on your forehead and my other on your chest where your heart sits. Once this happens I will be calming my breathing and syncing it with yours. Just focus on breathing slowly at a pace comfortable for you - I'll be doing all the work. Close your eyes or leave them open, it's up to you. Once I've synced to your breathing and pulse I will begin to touch my consciousness to yours, then slip in to the subconscious layer. There will not be any sort of thought sharing, but there might be something strange, like the feeling you get when someone is standing behind you but you haven't looked to see them yet, to confirm they're there."
By this point it seemed Goromitali was as settled as he would be. The candles were steady with no flickering. Incense had been lit to fill the room with a light woodsy and floral scent. Sandalwood, bergamot, jasmine, honeysuckle. Settling down Gigi sat on her knees, hands on her thighs, as she slowly rotated her neck to relieve the tension that had built. "It will look like I'm deep asleep, or even unconscious, depending on how long it takes me to knit the skin back to health and pull your injuries out of you. Anything beyond that? It's hard to describe until you've felt what a dive feels like. Do you agree?"
For a deep dive procedure like this she always wanted to be sure the patient in question on her table agreed. Unless in the heat of battle, and life or death was literally on the line, she always gained clear consent.
At his agreement? Gigi closed her own eyes and placed her hands where she said she would. Feeling his pulse she matched breathing patterns, slowly sinking to the point where she could hear his heartbeat in her ears overlapping her own. It took a while, Gigi falling into a meditative like sleep, the green glow of her tattoos growing and fading to match the duo's breathing with the soft light of a firefly.
The out of body experience of healing someone from the inside out, only possible due to the divine gifts she'd been given, was the only place where Gigi felt like she was in command and pursuing something she was actually good at. Years of pouring over medical scrolls to learn the body systems. Countless practice sessions with Nine so she could know instinctively what was wrong with a body. Gigi's consciousness was floating inside Goromitali's body, her acting as a green light of rejuvenating energy.
The burns were obvious. But everything that lay under? The fog cloud version of the healer couldn't believe was she was sensing. Unset bones healed wrong. A permanently off-set hip. Old scared frostbite. Recent knife wounds. A missing finger cauterized badly. A sticky layer of some sort of sickly black-purple energy dotting around like spores within his chakara energy. What was that? She prodded it with her awareness and hissed back.
In the conscious world her body jerked and seized before going calm again.
Circling one of the contamination like a shark Gigi tried to figure out what it was. There was something that called to her about it. Something more... familial. But that made no sense. She tried touching it again, running a 'finger' over the disease (as she was sure it was some sort of disease, no doubt), only to once again recoil.
Nothing could be done about that now - she'd want to bring Nine in on this. Maybe even ask Momma what he thought about it. See if anyone else in the Nest knew about what she'd sensed. Turning away from it for now and dodging all the other blocks and taint scattered through him Gigi focused on healing what she could.
The wrists, the scarred flesh, the unset bones, the twisted spine, the kink in his tail. It took forever, layers of abuse emerging once one had been taken care of. His heart now pumped at full capacity. His lungs freshened up. Muscles given a general relaxing medical massage, the fatigue pulled out by her steady focus.
By the time Gigi pulled her hands away from Goromitali, feeling every bit of pain, sore, and break he'd once had in his body, it was well past late evening. This had... Taken much longer than she thought it would. Groaning a bit she opened her eyes as she tugged her last bit of 'sync' away and into herself. The candles were spluttering they were burned down so low.
"Right -that was. Fuck Gorom, you were a wreck." She sounded exhausted. Stiffly she leaned back to pop her back. "But shit, that should feel much better." She'd have to sleep off how much she'd just transferred from him to her own body. She didn't pry into what caused the injuries, she didn't need to know what had happened. But there were some good guesses. That finger? It was done, sloppily, and a long time ago - crunching the bone instead of just separating the joint. That was a punishment.
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