Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 21 May 2005 |
| Who: | Kacela, Nicodemus |
| What: | After re-establishing contact with Inarin, Kacela makes another attempt to put Nicodemus back together. |
360 - Austin
The area known as simply '360' is probably the richest section of Austin, despite being outside its perimeter highway, with several multi-million dollar residential districts scattered throughout and most especially around Lake Austin. The incredibly fast-growing industries inside the 360 contribute to the affluency of the area. More then a few of Austin's many parks are in this area, providing some very nice views for the rich whose homes overlook them or any traveller who cares to visit.
After her barbed exchange with Nicholas, Kacela does indeed make good on at least one part of her threat -- she takes her sweet time. In fact, two whole days pass before she returns. The expression is grave, sullen, although some glimmer of hope lingers over her form. Instead of just barging in, she lingers by the doorway, perhaps making some mild talk with one of the bodymen. She seems to be feeling out the waters, guaging how likely it is she will be rousted off the premises.
The waters are actually quite calm considering the personalities that Lyman frequently employs. The two in question, the large doormen outside Lyman's penthouse doors, have been known to intercept rather than greet visitors. But, when Kacela appears in the elevator, the senior of the two approaches, setting a hand gently on the woman's shoulder. "He's stable right now...sleeping," he explains quickly, trying to rush Kacela into the suite, "But, the bleeding hasn't stopped." Still, whose to say what awaits inside...
Kacela fixes the mountain stuffed in a suit with a telling gaze, and breathes out in some agitation, "I managed to find what he was looking for, even if I couldn't quite procure it." She seems dissatisfied, but at the suggestion of an uncorked fount, she strips off her jacket and shoes, before stalking inside, biting down on her lower lip.
He may have been sleeping moments ago, but hearing voices outside his door, Lyman is roused to a seated position. "Kacela," he hums, not curiously, but assured of the womans presence...somehow, he knows it is her footsteps. "You didnt find Inarin, did you?" he rasps, this ominous question lingering in the air...until Lyman breaks the tension, adding with a shrug, "Oh well. What can you do? He has to keep his distance from us...should the media catch either of us in his presence..." A wicked cackle follows even though Lyman has yet to identify the person in his foyer, "Should we make an another appearance at Brackenridge?"
Aside from a clinical interest in seeing what kind of volume of blood can be exchanged for the daily celestial healing factor, Kacela's expression is markedly aloof. "I actually did. He sends his congratulations, but for reasons you mentioned declined to escort me back. We've arranged for an exchange of knowledge of the Symphony, but that will do you little good in the immediate future," she adds preemptively. Stepping closer, brow and cheekbones accentuated by the the small, soft directional light, she crosses her arms over her chest imperiously. "Sit cho'ass down," she decrees.
"Oh, not again," Lyman groans, putting up a mild protest, "Do, I have to?" Though his imitation of a six year old child refusing cough medicine is quite convincing, the industrialist actually complies, laying back. Steadying himself, Lyman gives a reassuring look up to Kacela, "Let's give this another try."
Kacela seems fixated on the worst of the myriad of injuries, the one that teas past his collarbone up onto his shoulder, and gives a sharp nod. "The forty-eight hours you've had will mean the tissue's a bit sturdier. And no skittishness this time," she says, although that last assertion seems aimed at herself. The woman quells the... she couldn't describe the sensation as anything other than delight at the generousness of his acquiescence, not dwelling on the flaw it surely suggests. She pulls out the pack of items as per her earlier attempt, curve needles, gauze and spooling.
Kacela, better armed with the knowledge that yes, certain types of flesh will give more easily than others, yes, there will be screaming, etc etc, doesn't balk this time. Perhaps to assuage or distract him from the task at hand, she says, "Has anyone taken a good long hard look at thatlovely prize of yours? Any Symphonic attunements it might have on it? I'd hate to think of the hordes just waiting to descend upon this location if that's the case..." Fingers, wrists, all are smeared in due time as she works, tying off the layers of muscle with more confident twists of limber wrists, trying to push out the crowding thoughts that threaten to rise up and distract her from her duty.
Roll by Kacela: (1) (2) (6)
Lyman grips the plastic covering with both hands, even with the palm that met with Edwards axe. "Glad to hear it," he replies, confident that Kacela will not be scared of by the exposed bone this time, "I'm going to have to peruse this site after were done here. Too think, all this information is just floating around on the web..." At this, Lyman forces a smile...or does he? The expression is, in fact, quite genuine, as Lyman has rediscovered his best coping strategy...his first instinct after the duel, to ruminate on his victory.
"With enough patience, one can find anything online, aside from certain print and color patterns of glassware," Kacela assures Lyman as she performs the bloody deed, a most useful one at that. She manages to discipline herself against the worrisome mental buzz that she's having to fight off, and adds, "And you'll be doing nothing more than resting up, no looking things up." A look of relief crosses her features as she finishes off the last of the epithelial suturing on that one terribly large wound, and repeats for several of the other more worrisome gashes. Wiping away the worst of the blood, Kacela finally relents at about the same time that a sensation of things being... slightly off with the local Symphonic bubble. With a quick, embarrassed apology, stands quickly and bolts for the bathroom. Pale under the complexion of her skin, the door is clapped shut before the sounds of a few retches sound out. "Squeamish?" Gio theorizes as he begins clearing away most of the mess around Lyman.
This time around the injured Lyman is much easier to handle. Though his eyes glow fiercely, they fail to monitor Kacelas first stitches. Instead, they stare off into space, cycling through the gruesome images from Edwards demise. Lyman recalls the feeling of his talons deep inside in the angels vessel, the sound of his gunshots hitting their mark...until Kacela interrupts with her "professional" advice. Euphoria dissipates, allowing the pain through and Lyman's smile tightens, remaining as a forced expression. "Well. Bravo," he calls out, congratulating the successful procedure rather than Kacelas churning stomach. At Gio's suggestion, Lyman gives a defensive stare, "Lay off. Even you're not use to such...gruesome...work."
The hired hand certainly does buzz off in half a breath at Lyman's harsh words. After a few moments, Kacela re-emerges, although the stiffness to her gait suggests a wounded pride that goes beyond mere irritation at the earlier dry heaves. Instead, she seats herself on the floor at the base of the couch, shoulders against the armrest nearest Lyman's head. Sparing Nicholas a scrutinizing gaze, she merely states, "Rest", although whether that was an order, or a description of what she was about to do, no one could tell. She leans her head back, braids draping over her shoulder. Flicking eyes shut with drawn out sigh, she maintains her chosen, if not unusual, guard position.
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