2018-05-20: Bedside Manner

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<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

It's not often that somebody survives having a hole punched through their chest.

For Cyre Lorentz, it's still not a certain thing. The combined healing magics pumped into his body in so many different directions has proven to be sufficient triage to keep his lifeforce from being severed irreversibly from his body. However, as much as the wound now looks more like something which is possible to treat and less like a sure reminder of inevitable mortality, Cyre is still not out of the woods yet.

Case in point, he's still bleeding quite a bit. The trauma is still undeniable. His body's worked itself into a fever to fight back against whatever infection might be attempting to take root in the wound, and he is still quite firmly unconscious by the time his friends carry him back to the Carakin to convalesce.

These are the critical hours. Time is of the essence. Can Cyre's life be saved, or is this the limit of the might of seraph, guardian and man alike to loose the reaper's grasp?

Find out today on...!

TRAUMA + CENTER: Lunar Caduceus

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

Since the battle outside the library, Catenna has not gone far from a certain bedside.

By trade, healing is not her first area of proficiency. Catenna's specialization mostly lies in priestly ritual, worship, cooking and dance. But Lucadia's power has given her a foothold into medicine, and she at least has folk medicine up her sleeve.

Hence why Cyre's bedroom smells subtly like healing incense and why Catenna has been spending the past little while not only restoring all the magical energy she'd poured into battling Rosaline and saving Cyre from immediate death, but doing something she doesn't normally do. Praying over not her Celesdue Medium, but her Lucadia medium.

Kneeling beside the wounded catman, the Moon Shaman clasps her hands around the stone tablet and murmurs a few words in her own language. "Lucadia chadani. Use bachani ke li shakhti hojein men miri madad karen. Dani samudur, dani Lucadia...."

A few soft words later, Catenna looks up from the Medium towards the bleeding, fevered Cyre. Her face is much paler than usual, her eyes lined beneath with deep shadow and signs of both exhaustion and a profound anguish that her dignity and calm cannot conceal.

"...Lucadia, please," she murmurs, barely keeping her heart out of her voice as she begins to reach for the Nahual of Fengalon, her Medium in hand.

<Pose Tracker> Ethius Hesiod has posed.

    There is, somewhere on the grounds of Vane late at night, a male voice that is maintaining a monotone 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.' It's not quite a scream. Maybe the first note of a song that seems like it wants to become the first note of a melody but is staring in the face of cultural pressure not to. Whoever is making that noise, their lung capacity and ability to do this for so long between breaths without wearing out their throat is impressive.
 
"SILENCE -- DISCUSSION VOLUME IS AT IMPOLITE LEVELS -- BE COURTEOUS"
 
     Coming out from an alley with their back facing to the greater open air of Old Vane is a certain man who seems to find it keen to dress up as some sort of hooded hooligan, gesturing with his left hand as he walks backwards for something unseen - but very much heard - to draw closer, all while going 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.'
 
"THIS IS YOUR -- WARNING! NO SUCH NUMBER EXISTS! -- WARNING TO REDUCE YOUR VOLUME OR FACE FORCEFUL EXPULSION"
 
     The 'aaaaaaaaaa' draws to a close as the Library Protector stomps back out through the alley, safely lured back onto campus. This certain man responsible turns around to face the rest of the grounds at last, hand on their forehead...
     The eye not obscured by a hand narrows as they witness the damages. A(nother) hole in the walls of Great Library. Some fires that have yet to be put out.
 
"CAUTION -- OPEN FIRE DETECTED -- FAILURE TO CONTAIN CAN LEAD TO LOST KNOWLEDGE"
 
     The Library Protector now having been politely escorted back to where it belongs so that it may continue to overzealously inhibit anyone's chances of getting a good night's rest after what all happened, the unlikely rescuer of this ancient device finds out too late that there was much more going on than just finding Old Vane's barely functional automaton wandering off while returning from whatever mysterious business he had elsewhere.
     It doesn't take him long to be directed back towards the CaraKin as it involves the well-being of one of their own.
 
BACK ON THE CARAKIN
 
     Ethius slips back onboard the metal horseless carriage. He is once again displeased with its current whereabouts versus angles of visibility up to some vague distance he's never openly codified in spoken word, but he suspects there are more urgent matters at hand. He doesn't have to go far to overhear Catenna's heartfelt prayer and pleas to Lucadia. One of his hands move to clutch something in his possession subconciously, but it's not clear what it is.
     For the time being, he stays out of the way of the hall leading up to the room as to not hold up passage to and from where Cyre is, presumably, resting and fighting for his life.

<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.

A part of Jacqueline thinks grimly that she should've installed a proper sort of medical room in the Carakin. Sure, she knew it was a possibility...but dragging a wounded, bloodied member of her Kinship back to the vehicle for treatment was becoming an alarmingly common occurrence.

A part of her hoped they wouldn't need one, but it seemed that she would need to add 'sick bay' to the list of modifications she needed to make to the vehicle.

Together, the Beast of Lohgrin and Catenna were able to heal Cyre, but not completely - they've given him a chance. Jacqueline intends to make the most of that chance. With their sorcerous healing combined with her own more physical methods, there was a good chnce they could do something.

She works quietly and tirelessly, though even throughout that she manages to look up to send Catenna and everyone else who might be present a reassuring smile.

"It's alright...we won't lose him. I promise." She says. It may be partially for her own benefit, as well.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

    Claws cannot wrap bandages, or handle salves, or spread poultices.

    What the Beast of Lohgrin has is the magic of her Goddess - and a tireless mien. She has folded herself into one of the corners of the room, claw over claw, tail wrapped carefully about her. She is not close, to his battered body; she doesn't have to be.

    Air drifts, air fills all available space. And a healing breeze, fit to soothe wounds and leech the poisons from them, easily reaches across the span of a room. It's fresh - it smells like spring, a proper Lunarian springtime when all the flowers are in bloom and the birds are singing in the breeze. It's tinted a light and friendly green, just slightly, not unlike the spirit which leaks from the joints of her plates.

    That breeze hasn't left Cyre, not since she first helped bring him here. She has said little - but that breeze remains. It flows about the wound, and it doesn't hurt, not like air on a wound ought to. It's soft and cool, but not uncomfortably so.

    And the Beast says little, because all she can hear in her ears are the moans of men from long ago. She'd brought them salvation, too...

    ... they'd died, too.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

Lydia wishes her friends would stop being maimed, impaled, or otherwise critically wounded. First it was Lunata and she barely had time to process that before Cyre nearly died. Why do her friends keep nearly dying? It is terrible. Lydia doesn't enjoy it. She wishes it would stop.

Lydia is sitting outside of Cyre's room. She has a rock in her hand, and a hammer in the other. Listlessly she hits the hammer into the rock. She has been doing this for a long time but hasn't been employing enough force to shatter the rock. Sometimes, she picks the rock up and gives it a firm squeeze before letting it go and going back to hitting the rock with a hammer.

Bonk. Bonk. Bonk.

<Pose Tracker> Kourin has posed.

Kourin is no healer. She's worried for her friend, though, and thus is pacing. Spirit is pacing by her side. She doesn't know how to help. Maybe there's no way she CAN help.

Pace pace pace.

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

Even without the swirling whorls of fragrant incense and the soothing breeze caressing Cyre's wound, there's a sense that the rot would find it hard-pressed to set in. Lucadia's arcana, though unfamiliar, answers the moon shaman's call. A current of saline water churns at the shredded fringes of the damaged tissue, gently drawing away impurities and nascent nodules of dried blood, pus and infection before they can ferment. A trickle of Lucadia's healing waters flows in through exposed capillaries, replacing much of the fluid he has lost. Cyre groans in his sleep, wincing visibly at the sting of saltwater on an open wound-- but such things are necessary. For his body to heal, the wound must be kept clean.

The Seraph's magic is as close in elemental nature to the forces that have been imbued into Cyre's very flesh over his lifetime. The wind calls to itself; Cyre's medium, still resting on his skin, reverberates with emerald light and pulses with vital energies. By some esoteric, alchemical, elemental miracle, Cyre's stamina seems to be bolstered by the combination of wind and water essence churning over him.

The former is obvious, but as to the latter... Well.

Water makes Wind, or so some old texts say.

Meanwhile, Jacqueline applies her knowledge of the medical sciences. Her potions have proven invaluable in containing Cyre's fever, rejuvenating his spent reserves of biological fuel. Bandages soaked in healing poultice are wrapped over his wounds between sessions of magical cleansing, giving his body the protection it needs to recover.

This is what Ethius walks into when he returns to the Carakin from visiting the DECREPIT RUIN that was Vane and its most recent damage. That, and Kourin and Lydia each trying to alleviate their anxieties.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

Even as she prays, a spark of frustration gnaws in the back of Catenna's mind - a memory of Kaguya sullenly demanding to know why Lucadia could not cure her, and Catenna herself explaining the grim truth.

    The Guardians are not saviors. If they were, no Baskar would ever die.

Jacqueline's encouragement helps, a little. Catenna lifts quiet eyes to her and nods, then folds her hands atop the Sea Medium. "...We must have faith that we will not," she murmurs, with a glance down towards where the Beast of Lohgrin sits.

In her own way, Catenna realizes, the Beast has suffered a terrible loss of her own - or at least a terrible wounding. It's as though none of them in this room escaped the battle without shedding blood, tears or screams.

There's a passive healing spell at work; Catenna begins to add to it with a more serious one. She lays her Medium in Cyre's hands and begins to murmur a spell. Subtle blue sparks dance along Cyre, magic beginning to stream into his wound as a major healing spell unfolds itself.

<Pose Tracker> Ethius Hesiod has posed.

    Ethius happens upon pacing and rock banging just outside of the room in question. He doesn't stand in the way of Kourin's pacing route. He keeps his distance. (Maybe a bit more than usual?) He watches while Lydia goes about banging a rock with a hammer. Bonk. Bonk. Bonk.
     Just as he passes by, he casts a gaze into the room - specifically, into the very corner where he can see the vessel of the Beast of Lohgrin having helped themselves into one of the corners. His stare lingers on them for an uncomfortable while. This 'while' might be just six seconds. They will be six seconds that come off as eighteen passing instead, before he looks to address those waiting outside.
     "Am I interrupting one of your rituals with my presence, Miss Lydia?"

<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.

It's true. This was...devastating, in more ways than the physical. Jacqueline knows that all too well. It's why she's doing everything she can to keep up morale - as threatening as the physical wounds may be, a wounded spirit can be just as fatal.

"Yes." Jacqueline says with a nod of agreement toward Catenna. It was a testament to Catenna's strength that she was still here...working carefully without letting herself be too shaken to act.

It was another reminder of why she respected her.

For a moment, her eyes fall on the statue in the corner. The Beast of Lohgrin. She was...quiet, but Jacqueline could since the subtle flows that indicated that she was still actively aiding Cyre.

And outside...

Bonk. Bonk. Bonk.

Pace. Pace. Pace.

She could imagine how Kourin and Lydia must feel, to be unable to do anything to help...to be forced to wait agonizingly.

"Kourin, Lydia...could one of you fetch me some more water? And another potion, if you would..." She asks. It wasn't strictly necessary. But she hoped that, by giving them a task, it could help keep their mind off the situation, even for a moment.

She wouldn't blame them if they didn't.

And as for Ethius...her eyes track to him for a moment. She considers asking if there's anything he knows that could help, but she reminds herself that, no matter how many impressive techniques she'd seen from him, there remained and an everpresent rule(to her knowledge) - Symbology could not heal.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

Lydia Seren looks over to Ethius. Her eyes are red. She looks at her rock.

"No. I was just...trying to calm down." She tells Ethius. "Cyre's hurt." She stops banging the rock with the hammer and just tosses them aside. "There was so much--It was Rosaline."

She leans forward and hugs her knees.

"He told me," Lydia tells Ethius. "That I was like him."

Lydia hears the call out and stands herself up. "I'll get the water if you get the potion." She tells Kourin.
All channels have been gagged.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

    Bang. Bang. Bang. What a comforting refrain. Each hammerblow is a reminder that time is passing.

    The Beast of Lohgrin's magic has always been intuitive, unpracticed, divine force without skill or technique. She has not had a teacher for two hundred years.

    She has not tried to fix someone for two hundred years.

    The breeze is constant, but it is not an overwhelming healing force. The breeze is constant, but there is no more weight she can put behind it. It's a wonder she remembers how to do it at all.

    Those iron plates shift, slightly, as a figure passes by. Empty eyes seem to stare into Ethius, for a moment, before it returns its attention to the injured man. There cannot be any trace of emotion upon them - and there are no words to measure its intentions.

    She doesn't know what she could possibly say. Death is a tragedy, to mankind. And unexpected death - this is a tragedy to the Beast. Surely they will die, but not like this. Let them live out their years, be proud of their works. Mortal life is a tapestry; each soul is woven together. If he dies - he will leave so many behind.

    Those hollow eyes look to Catenna, for a moment, before the Beast shifts her attention back to Cyre.

    Jacqueline is much more reassuring, and she is glad for her, in this moment. She seems to handle everyone's anxieties so effortlessly, where the Beast is not sure where she could possibly start. She understands how to manage those emotions, and it is a greater magic than the Beast of Lohgrin could ever bring to bear.

    She sends the worriers for supplies. A moment passes. Another.

    "Thank you," comes the statue's voice, from the corner she has colonised. It's the first thing she's said for some time.

<Pose Tracker> Kourin has posed.

Kourin nods, moving to get the potion. She pauses, though, interested by what Lydia said--and wishing she knew if it was something she had been meant to overhear. She hadn't been at the fight--a situation for which she feels miserable. So she carries on fetching the potion.

"I should have been there," she murmurs, as she returns a few moments later with the desired item.

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

    They all sustained some manner of spiritual injury in that last fight. Some more directly than others. But it's undeniable that worry, frustration and feelings of betrayal are not uncommon among this circle of souls today. Exposure to malevolence after and during such emotional turmoil is dangerous-- potentially toxic, even.

But maybe there's a silver lining to Cyre's injury? By keeping their minds focused on something they can do in the here and now, maybe enough distance can be made from that emotional turmoil to allow the wounds to heal. Jacqueline knows perfectly well just how important it is to keep busy in times like these.

On the other hand, what might happen if they fail?

Best not to think about it.

Catenna focuses her healing magic. Lucadia answers her will with the divine power beyond the gentle, passive healing magic presently swirling around Cyre. The sea is impossible to know in its vastness. Its fathoms are deeper than any realize. This is the crucial difference between Lucadia and Schturdark; where the Guardian of Water represents the element in its raw form, the Guardian of the Sea is tied to the very conceptual essence of the ocean. Its mystery, its incredible depth, how it thrums with life and simultaneously smothers all lives that are too weak to endure its depths. The magic she summons swallows the meager wounds into that impossible vastness. The injuries of a single man are nothing before the enormity of the sea.

And yet, the Guardians cannot save everyone. They must all fight to earn their own survival.

Lucadia's magic washes into the wound. Cyre's flesh ripples as if it had become fluid itself, not knitting together but flowing into itself. The wounded tissue seems to liquefy and fuse before solidifying again. Cyre jolts with the abrupt shock of healing energy pushes and pulls at his body. The wound has shrunk considerably by the time it's done, but Cyre himself looks fatigued from the exertion of such sudden healing.

...Still, it's much less likely to end in a fatality, now. They just need to keep him hydrated and nourished to restore the price his body paid to close so much of the wound at once.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

"...There is only so much that magic can do for him," Catenna murmurs as she sags from the sheer exertion of channeling that much of Lucadia's power.

The Moon Shaman closes her eyes. She inhales, then lets it out. Slender hands grip one of Cyre's, tightening, squeezing, as if to provide some form of lifeline for the unconscious man who has captured her heart. If she could convey an emotion through sheer touch, that grip would do so.

Come back to us, Cyre. I love you.

Aloud, she clears her throat. "...The Guardians are not saviors," she murmurs. "He is out of immediate danger... now, we must ensure that his body has what is needed to finish healing. Rest... water... food. And to dress his injuries."

Catenna bows her head and mutters something in Zortroan - "<Where is it,>" she murmurs, feeling around for her roll of bandages.

<Pose Tracker> Ethius Hesiod has posed.

    "I see." Ethius remarks as Lydia communicates her anxieties and the finer details of what has made her such - one element obvious, some a bit less so. He moves to kneel down before her as she starts to hug her knees--
     A call comes out to Kourin and Lydia to go fetch water, and another potion. Lydia, given purpose, seems to exceed the need for him to kneel down at her level and give any sort of reassuring words.
     He stands up again, and looks back into the room where the healing wind whips through, as though Jay's call-out for assistance among the others outside is an indication there may be more need for the task at hand.
     His eyes seem to fall upon something as Catenna speaks.
     He deftly slips into the room where Cyre's recovery efforts are ongoing as though with both purpose and precision. He picks up a roll of bandages that is well out of reach of Catenna's arms, and hands them over to her without ceremony or hesitation beyond maintaining a polite enough distance not to startle her by, say, shoving it in her face.
     He will leave just as quickly and quietly once taken from his grasp... though his eyes do fall upon Beast in the corner again.

<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.

"It's alright, Kourin. This...happened completely unexpectedly. There was no way to know it was going to happen." Jacqueline murmurs in an attempt to reassure her, shaking her head and accepting the potion. She offers a glance to Lydia, too. "Things could have gone...better...but he's still alive. We all know Cyre's not the type of person who'll give up so easily to something like this."

It's as she's accepting the potion from Kourin that she hears Beast speak from the corner - speaking for the first time in a while.

"O-oh, we should be thanking you, really...your sorcery has been a great help, and we would not have gotten him here so quickly without you..." She replies with a smile. She's trying to reassure her too, it seems.

Catenna's search doesn't go unnoticed...but Ethius's eyes are faster than hers. She decides to let Catenna take care of that, instead taking both the potion and the water and pouring a little of each into a third, empty glass. It'd dilate the healing effects of the potion a bit, but the water would help it go down easily as well as offering him the hydration he needed in these trying times.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

    "I am glad to be of assistance," says the Beast, her voice carrying on the air. "I only..." A pause. Longer, longer - uncertainty, in her tone. "... I hope I have truly helped."

    The Beast of Lohgrin is compressed, in this space, each plate layered over each other. It sits, it watches Cyre, it waits. No threatening action is taken to alarm Ethius. Indeed, little visible action is taken at all.

    But she inclines her headpieces, in response to the priestess's instruction, and there is no more breeze to tickle the inside of the room. "I will defer to your experience in this matter, Catenna." She saw how Cyre twisted, in response to that surge of magic, after all. She would not like her artes to cause him harm. "Please, tell me if you require my sorcery once more."

    (It might seem strange, that someone so old would say something like that.)

    Claws cannot wrap bandages, or handle salves, or spread poultices. The Beast keeps her sentinel in the corner of the room, and does not interfere with their mortal medicine.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

A task does seem like it's helping. She does touch Ethius's sleeve for a moment but doesn't share or speak words. Maybe she thinks that's enough.

Lydia fetches some water while Kourin gets the potions. It takes Lydia a little longer than it does for Kourin to get back but she does arrive soon enough to hear Catenna mention Cyre's not going to die horribly, probably and that seems to spool a lot of the tension out of Lydia's body.

She hands Jay the water. She looks over to Beast. "Thanks. You really are cool."

And...huh, guess she's keeping it ot that at the moment as she scuffs her foot against the floor. "Why wouldn't you be more careful..?" She mutters before taking hold of Ethius's sleeve.

N.O.E.S.C.A.P.E?

<Pose Tracker> Kourin has posed.

Kourin frowns slightly. "I...don't notice--is it cool in here?" She seems slightly disturbed by her misunderstanding. She is definitely relieved that Cyre's past the worst, most likely.

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

There's only so much magic can do. Everything else is a matter of the will to survive.

And if there's anything Cyre has, it's stubbornness. Way too much stubbornness.

Catenna squeezes his hand. For a moment, nothing happens-- there's nothing there but the awful clamminess of a feverish palm. And then, slowly, his fingers close weakly around hers.

"H-hey," a familiar voice says, creaking like a rusty old hinge. "What's everyone looking so anxious for?"

...It seems, maybe, the power of love and friendship are greater than an otherwise lethal injury.

...Or maybe it's a mix of magic, chemistry and gumption. It's a tossup. Probably the latter, though.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

"Thank you, Ethius," Catenna says in a quiet voice, beginning to unravel the bandages.

Then she pauses for a second. Her eyes tighten at the corners as she glances at Ethius, briefly and with a flicker of confusion in her gaze.

But she has other things to think about - like ensuring her lover doesn't die.

"Too much sorcery will shock his system," Catenna says with a quiet nod towards the Beast of Lohgrin. "His body must find its own strength, or his important functions will become reliant on a power that will eventually fade." Closing her eyes, the Moon Shaman exhales.

There's a soft flutter of greyish feathers. The Owlet - which had been watching from the sidelines - drifts over to land on the Beast's head, perching there to give Catenna a long, probling look.

Catenna looks back at the tiny avian. If I cannot save Cyre... how can I ensure that Celesdue's totem lives a happy life...?

Until a voice speaks.

Catenna's eyes go wide as she looks back to the catman. Her teeth catch her lower lip. For just a moment, her dignity breaks, and tears begin to well in her eyes as she squeezes Cyre's hand tightly - and that worried loop gives way to a wide, shining smile, illuminating her face like a full moon on a clear night.

"Cyre...."

<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.

"You certainly have." Jacqueline replies. The reassuring smile continues to be directed at the Beast of Lohgrin. She nods when Catenna speaks in response.

"Yes, even my potions can't do much more...now, it's up to him. But I believe he can pull through." She says. Of course he would - everyone was here watching him, after all. Even Ethius was here! ...Though a part of that might have been Lydia preventing him from leaving...but still!

"A-ah, no, by that Lydia means, um..." Jacqueline starts, looking toward Kourin. How does one explain the concept of 'cool'? "'The Beast of Lohgrin is, um...very nice and impressive??'"

...She thinks it over, and then nods to herself. Yes, that would work. Before she can think anything further, though...

Cyre begins to stir. Jacqueline quiets herself...and then smiles warmly at Catenna's reaction. She doesn't dare speak, for fear of interrupting the mood.

<Pose Tracker> Ethius Hesiod has posed.

    Ethius takes to the sleeve grasping well enough, in that he allows Lydia to do it as necessary. He turns to her every so often if she looks as though she's going to start squeezing or tearing out of stress. He doesn't seem to have anything to say about Beast's concerns or need for reassurances, as some seem to speak to someone without prompting. Can he truly not hear her...?
     Catenna's thanks is not met with a 'you're welcome.' He seems to turn away at about the very moment Catenna's glance falls upon him.
     Before long, he moves to leave even as Cyre starts to stir and speak - signs that his condition is about to take a turn for the much, much better. He doesn't get far, because Lydia's got a hold of his sleeve. No escape, as has been spelled out thoroughly, his back turned to Catenna and Cyre as the former starts to squeeze his hand with that smile of hers. Happiness and miracles, happening all around him... and he seems keen to try and walk off.
     "I wish to give them their space," Ethius remarks in a low volume, looking to turn his head back towards the Beast of Lohgrin... but he seems to think better of it half-way, facing back the way out.

<Pose Tracker> Kourin has posed.

"Ah, that makes more sense to me now," Kourin admits. Then Cyre speaks. "Cyre! Praise Althena..."

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

    Jacqueline says she has helped, and the Beast of Lohgrin can only hope for the truth of it.

    Lydia claims she is cool. She has no way to check her temperature - this vessel has no skin or sensing organs which would let her know how hot or cold she is. But it seems unlikely that Lydia is commenting on her coldness attribute. By order of exclusion: it's a manner to use that word she isn't familiar with. She'll file it away to figure out at some point when she's not in a room with a critically ill man. "You are welcome," the Beast says, simply, because Lydia thanked her, too.

    Luckily, Kourin asks, and Jacqueline explains. "Ah - thank you," she adds, to Lydia, once she understands just what she's been called.

    That too much sorcery will shock his system - that he may become reliant on something which goes away - it's new information, to her. Could it have..? She pushes that consideration away, for now. "I understand. Thank you for your explanation."

    And then - she has an owlet. She stays quite still, to allow her a solid perch.

    It's fine, because she's already looking at Cyre, so she doesn't need to turn those headplates when he croaks out a greeting. There's another little puff of breeze, but this isn't healing wind, this time. It's more like a sigh of relief, expressed through the air itself.

    Those hollow eyes certainly seem to be watching Cyre, at least. But it's a statue, so who can say? There's no flesh beneath it - no eyes to see. No eyes to glance to Ethius, as he leaves.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

"Fifteen seconds." Lydia requests of Ethius.

She smiles at Beast, showing fangs, but Cyre speaks and Lydia focuses on him. Focuses on him for about three of those seconds. She then takes another five to say, "'Cause you're worrying us, dork." to Cyre, which might be considered respectful to someone or another. She wipes at her eyes and says, "Don't do that again." That's like another three.

And then finally she flat out explains what 'cool' is to Kourin. "It's a combination of like being a good person and also someone fun to be around."

And then she lets go of Ethius. "'Kay. Thanks."

<Pose Tracker> Kourin has posed.

"Then...you are also cool, Lydia," Kourin notes gravely.