10-27-2015, 07:43 PM
The bandit staggered up the stairs, a fresh transfusion of blood barely keeping the woman standing. A large pile of busted components, Sledge’s Hammer, and Gildarts’ prosthetic arm were piled into a cardboard box, which she carried under her single remaining armpit.
Finding an empty seat about halfway up the aisles, she dropped the box with a heavy clattering THUD and collapsed into the bench. Panting, she stared up at the sky, trying to make the world stop spinning and her nerve-addled gut from overturning for a fifth time within the hour.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” she moaned, groggy, dizzy, and miserable.
The gladiator felt eyes upon her, and she allowed her head to roll to the side. Staring at her was a young girl in her mid-teens staring back. Two tall, canine ears atop her head twitched and the deep green pools of her eyes swam with a depth that the bandit had never seen before.
“Uh,” the woman stammered, pushing a pile of gore-soaked dreads from her face, “s’up.”
“Ah,” the girl responded, “hello.”
A long, awkward silence grew between them until the chasm was too deep and wide to venture, so the outlaw coughed and looked away. She stuffed her hand into the box, retrieving the mechanical limb. “Uh,” she glanced at the girl, waving the warm back and forth in her hand, “hope you don’t mind.” She motioned towards her bloody stump of a left arm. “I gotta, like, you know, make a new arm and shit.”
The girl’s eyes wandered down to the bloody nub with a mild look of concern. “Um, I… yes?”
“Awesome.” The woman jammed the metal husk into place with a wince, her teeth gritting as she twisted it into the right position. Blood seeped out over the edges, leaking down into the tracts that the magic had sliced.
Finally pleased with its position, she cupped her hand over the joining and focused. White light shined between the gaps of her fingers as steel fused with flesh, omnilium doing the impossible task of matching his custom fit artificial to her anatomy. She jerked with a yelp as a nerve snapped into place, the phantom pain she had been experiencing now replaced with generalized tingling.
The woman sighed a breath of relief, “Diablo’s ass crack! That feels so much better.”
As the muscle strands merged, she wiggled her new fingers and smiled. A bit of color instantly returned to her cheeks, and she plucked the tourniquet from above. She flexed her bicep back and forth, massaging the flesh around the fusion.
She looked over to the unnerved girl and laughed. “Good as new, right?”
Finding an empty seat about halfway up the aisles, she dropped the box with a heavy clattering THUD and collapsed into the bench. Panting, she stared up at the sky, trying to make the world stop spinning and her nerve-addled gut from overturning for a fifth time within the hour.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” she moaned, groggy, dizzy, and miserable.
The gladiator felt eyes upon her, and she allowed her head to roll to the side. Staring at her was a young girl in her mid-teens staring back. Two tall, canine ears atop her head twitched and the deep green pools of her eyes swam with a depth that the bandit had never seen before.
“Uh,” the woman stammered, pushing a pile of gore-soaked dreads from her face, “s’up.”
“Ah,” the girl responded, “hello.”
A long, awkward silence grew between them until the chasm was too deep and wide to venture, so the outlaw coughed and looked away. She stuffed her hand into the box, retrieving the mechanical limb. “Uh,” she glanced at the girl, waving the warm back and forth in her hand, “hope you don’t mind.” She motioned towards her bloody stump of a left arm. “I gotta, like, you know, make a new arm and shit.”
The girl’s eyes wandered down to the bloody nub with a mild look of concern. “Um, I… yes?”
“Awesome.” The woman jammed the metal husk into place with a wince, her teeth gritting as she twisted it into the right position. Blood seeped out over the edges, leaking down into the tracts that the magic had sliced.
Finally pleased with its position, she cupped her hand over the joining and focused. White light shined between the gaps of her fingers as steel fused with flesh, omnilium doing the impossible task of matching his custom fit artificial to her anatomy. She jerked with a yelp as a nerve snapped into place, the phantom pain she had been experiencing now replaced with generalized tingling.
The woman sighed a breath of relief, “Diablo’s ass crack! That feels so much better.”
As the muscle strands merged, she wiggled her new fingers and smiled. A bit of color instantly returned to her cheeks, and she plucked the tourniquet from above. She flexed her bicep back and forth, massaging the flesh around the fusion.
She looked over to the unnerved girl and laughed. “Good as new, right?”