Direct Intervention pt. 45
"I think we might have to do a better fix," you say.
"Tch." Homura vocalizes a little grunt of annoyance. Her patience is wearing thin, you suppose, and you hastily add, "Just a patch job."
"Fine," Homura says, hand lighting up with her magic again.
It takes you another hour or so, more cleansing, and a little more music to skin over the worst of the bullet holes and breaks in Oriko's skin - if she were still human, internal hemorrhages would be a major issue. But she's not, and you can't really say that her discomfort brings you much displeasure. Her arms, you leave alone apart from skinning it over.
As you heal, you pay attention to the guttering spark of magic centered in Oriko, still strobing with excruciating slowness. It flickers a little more strongly as you heal her body, until-
The spark suddenly ignites into a conflagration, the maelstrom you expect of an active magical girl. You sit back, and glance at Homura. "We're done."
She nods, and similarly rocks back on her heels, primly looking around for a spot that's free of the tacky pool of blood before finally settling on a piece of rubble. She reaches behind her shield to pull out a pistol, and snags Oriko's Soul Gem with her free hand. She also pulls out a reel of thread, and tosses it to you.
"Thanks," you say, absently cleaning both your gems as you loop the thread around the seer's foot, and holding on to the other end. Easy enough to break a thread, after all.
... why does Homura even have thread in her shield?
You sit back, crossing your legs, and look at Oriko. She's now breathing shallowly, with her eyes still closed. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Oriko. If you tell us what we want to know, you might even get to stay here."
No response.
"Really? You're just going to stonewall?" you snap at the seer.
Still no response.
"She's unconscious," Homura says. There's a little twitch at the corner of her mouth, what might be an amused smirk panicking at finding itself lost in foreign territory.
... oops.
You are most certainly not blushing. Nope. Not at all.
Homura leans forward, one finger glowing with magic, and raps Oriko firmly on the middle of her forehead with it.
Sea green eyes startle open, and Oriko draws in a sharp breath.
As Homura returns to her seated position, still holding the pistol and Soul Gem in clear threat, you lean forward, propping your elbows on your knees and tenting your fingers in front of your face.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Mikuni Oriko. Answer our questions, and you may even get to stay here," you intone. "I trust you understand your situation. 'Better than I do', even," you add, throwing her own words back in her face.
Oriko stares blankly up at the sky, making no move to get up. "... hello, Sabrina, Akemi Homura," she sighs at length. "It's so cold," she adds in a quiet whisper. That's probably the lack of blood talking, not that you can work up any sympathy for her.
"So tell me, Oriko, what about all of this was so necessary? You know, you nearly killed Sayaka, her family, and the entire building. Those aren't the actions of a sane person. Tell me, what justifies it?" you spit at her.
"You should ask her whether her door was open or shut before she went to sleep," the seer says. "This is necessary for what is to come."
That's not an answer. You know it, she knows it, and she knows that you know it.
[] Write-in
Go wild.
Four hundred thirty five grief marbles, eight in your pocket, seventeen scattered over the ground, sixteen in your impromptu musical instruments.
"Tch." Homura vocalizes a little grunt of annoyance. Her patience is wearing thin, you suppose, and you hastily add, "Just a patch job."
"Fine," Homura says, hand lighting up with her magic again.
It takes you another hour or so, more cleansing, and a little more music to skin over the worst of the bullet holes and breaks in Oriko's skin - if she were still human, internal hemorrhages would be a major issue. But she's not, and you can't really say that her discomfort brings you much displeasure. Her arms, you leave alone apart from skinning it over.
As you heal, you pay attention to the guttering spark of magic centered in Oriko, still strobing with excruciating slowness. It flickers a little more strongly as you heal her body, until-
The spark suddenly ignites into a conflagration, the maelstrom you expect of an active magical girl. You sit back, and glance at Homura. "We're done."
She nods, and similarly rocks back on her heels, primly looking around for a spot that's free of the tacky pool of blood before finally settling on a piece of rubble. She reaches behind her shield to pull out a pistol, and snags Oriko's Soul Gem with her free hand. She also pulls out a reel of thread, and tosses it to you.
"Thanks," you say, absently cleaning both your gems as you loop the thread around the seer's foot, and holding on to the other end. Easy enough to break a thread, after all.
... why does Homura even have thread in her shield?
You sit back, crossing your legs, and look at Oriko. She's now breathing shallowly, with her eyes still closed. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Oriko. If you tell us what we want to know, you might even get to stay here."
No response.
"Really? You're just going to stonewall?" you snap at the seer.
Still no response.
"She's unconscious," Homura says. There's a little twitch at the corner of her mouth, what might be an amused smirk panicking at finding itself lost in foreign territory.
... oops.
You are most certainly not blushing. Nope. Not at all.
Homura leans forward, one finger glowing with magic, and raps Oriko firmly on the middle of her forehead with it.
Sea green eyes startle open, and Oriko draws in a sharp breath.
As Homura returns to her seated position, still holding the pistol and Soul Gem in clear threat, you lean forward, propping your elbows on your knees and tenting your fingers in front of your face.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Mikuni Oriko. Answer our questions, and you may even get to stay here," you intone. "I trust you understand your situation. 'Better than I do', even," you add, throwing her own words back in her face.
Oriko stares blankly up at the sky, making no move to get up. "... hello, Sabrina, Akemi Homura," she sighs at length. "It's so cold," she adds in a quiet whisper. That's probably the lack of blood talking, not that you can work up any sympathy for her.
"So tell me, Oriko, what about all of this was so necessary? You know, you nearly killed Sayaka, her family, and the entire building. Those aren't the actions of a sane person. Tell me, what justifies it?" you spit at her.
"You should ask her whether her door was open or shut before she went to sleep," the seer says. "This is necessary for what is to come."
That's not an answer. You know it, she knows it, and she knows that you know it.
[] Write-in
=====
Go wild.
Four hundred thirty five grief marbles, eight in your pocket, seventeen scattered over the ground, sixteen in your impromptu musical instruments.
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