Summary:Astryd keeps an eye on an experiment while Mira films: can Ambrose control both curses at once? Cain arrives in time to observe an epic hiccup in the road to success. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Not but a week ago, Ambrose had dared against every drop of his screaming common sense and nightmarish experience to return to the very tomb wherein he was cursed. Bolstered by Kent, he'd managed to wrangle himself a very interesting morsel of magic into the ring of invisibility given to him by the Finder. An Anti-Bane, in a way, this roiling magic, and while it doesn't wish to get along with his own long-known curse, he'd managed to braid them together into something like balanced magnetic forces within the ring itself.
Kent had been impressed and face-palmed all in one reaction.
It had been suggested he attempt to figure out precisely what this madness entails and how to wield it. Knowing full well how an unchecked Bane reacts (unfortunate incidents in the past not to be disclosed unless pressed and mayhaps Ambrose drunk), he'd traveled to an abandoned rock quarry far north of the city. With him, his daughter Kazimira, better known as Mira, to film his attempts. Maybe the magic won't show on the recording itself, but Kent will at least be able to comment on things such as posture and balancing out the Chakra or Chi points to better allow control.
"You could shift your foot further forward, Baba," comments the young woman as she sets up the tripod camera.
"Yes, yes, yes…" grumbles Ambrose in reply. Mira is dressed warmly enough; Ambrose has shucked his coat and now stands in bare feet, fatigue pants, and a long-sleeved thermal shirt. The ring's not on his finger — yet. It's in his palm, gold and gleaming, and he's contemplating it like a cornered rattlesnake.
Astryd isn't sure why Ambrose asked her along but she's always good for a show and a laugh.
Arriving as Raven, the tall, stern, blonde perches on the branch of a tree, watching as Mira sets up and Ambrose tries to … centre himself. The branch she's chosen isn't all that far off the ground and it's very, very obvious that there's something different about that Raven. To begin with, she's much, much larger than your standard, run of the mill bird.
"It's ok, I'm just here to drop rocks on your head to make sure you focus…" She does wonder though, if with the right filters on the camera, if it wouldn't be possible to capture the aura of magic.
Cain has to have the weirdest luck in the world sometimes, well, he does! His entire life is flavored by crazy random happenstance, and that's on quiet days. Today finds him out for a run when he finds a new ley line - which is always a fun thing. A moment to dig out a small leather notebook and to jot down the start point, before he reties the leather strap about it, and tucks it away. A moment to don some goggles, and then /Zoom!/, off he goes about about the speed of sound in the thing, tracing it to see where it goes. As it happens it leads him North, quite a bit north in fact, which is cool. "Ooh, I need a route to Canada, this could be fun."
The man is dressed in sturdy boots with thick and durable soles, blue jeans that have been mildly distressed, and a bomber jacket from World War I that he /loves/.
Imagine his surprise when after a glance over his shoulder he finds himself running off the edge of a quarry in true Wile E Coyote fashion. He even takes a moment to think . o O (Mother…) before he falls towards the water below. *sploosh* He touches down about a hundred yards out, skips a couple times before he gets his feet under him again, and ZOOMS, with a white sheet of water following in his wake as if he were a speed boat!
Soft laughter, turns louder as he splashes a section of wall, then runs up up and into the air with a whoop, before superhero landing on the rocks completely unaware of the spectacle having likely been observed.
Oops.
Dripping wet, he just laughs at himself and shakes his head as he starts wringing out his shirt.
Mira, at least, is still relatively in awe of the large ink-black bird settled on the single remaining tree's branch. How it survived the working of the quarry is a miracle in itself. The plateau Ambrose occupies is a shelf ending with a tumbling sheer and angled slope down to a water pit. Hey: at least he'll bounce if he steps off the edge.
The young woman with eyes of Tanzanite-blue can't help the titter. "A dropped pebble may work to keep Baba focused," she agrees with raven-Astryd.
"My skull is not THAT thick," fires Ambrose back as he looks over his shoulder, arching a wryly-amused silver eyebrow at the Raven. A toss of the ring causes it to glitter in the air before he catches it again and sighs. "I think we may pro…ceed?"
He peters out because someone just went splash — and someone just went ZOOM — and the Jackal now recognizes the sopping-wet individual. "Ah, simply Master Cain," he explains to the others as if this is an everyday occurrence, the sudden appearance of someone defying physics.
Mira appears nonplussed where she stands by the tripod camera, finger still ready to set the thing to recording. "He just ran on top of the water," the dark-haired and befreckled young woman notes, glancing over at the Raven, just to make sure Astryd saw it too.
"Well met again, Master Cain." Crisply, of recognizable cadence and accent, the greeting floats over. Sure, the Jackal's hair is moonsilvered now, but it's the same pleased and ever-predatory aura about the man, complete with sly sliver of a grin. Hello, Ambulatory Pastry.
To quote a movie - or misquote it as the case may be - Nature finds a way. The tree that Astryd has chosen is scraggly and perches precariously from the side of one of the pits.
"If I drop the pebble from high enough, it won't matter how think your skull is, Ambrose." The Raven caws, canting her head in a mischievious way towards to Mira. She's used to people being wary around her - it's been a feature of her existence to be sure.
The sound of something playing in the water draws the Valkyrs attention, her wings flare as she readies to launch herself in the air and … investigate. It's a good thing that Ambrose speaks when he does - she doesn't move but those wings are still wide and likely … quite threatening. "A friend of yours?"
Okay, to have an audience was not something that Cain was expecting. A blink at the familiar voice. Really? Ambrose?? HERE??? Flushing a bit, he turns, twisted up shirt tails still in hand as he drip-drip-drips on the rocks not too far away. "Oh, hello Lieutenant." He says in a brave attempt at recovering his aplomb. "Excuse me a moment." He darts off with a crackle of purple streaks in his wake, finds a spot to spin-dry, and then returns trying to get his hair sorted out.
Wow, tht's a big BIG corvus corax right there. Largest he's seen!
And…oh, my. A lovely dark haired girl.
Le sigh. And Ambrose.
Mostly sorted now, the dark haired man approaches to within a couple yards, and offers a smile to the dark haired girl. Alas, he didn't hear Astryd speaking, so — fun is sure to follow soon.
Ambrose replies to Astryd in a near-musical cadence, "I think 'friend' is perhaps the correct word." Even Mira gives her father a squint at the vaguery of his reply, but lets it go. Dad's always been like this. She watches, far more surprised at the sudden violaceous blurring and return of the speedster, and blinks as the other young man approaches now.
"Master Cain, so good of you to join us." Ambrose lifts his voice to be easily heard, his fist lightly closed around the ring. "I suggest you stand by the tree and behind my recording technician. This is an art of experiment and I would hate for you to be caught within its boundaries."
Would he actually hate it? The Bane wouldn't, already wending into Ambrose's aura and intrigued as always with the font of life-force imbued in Cain.
Mira returns Cain's smile politely. "I heard you're Cain? Nice to meet you. I'm Mira."
"My daughter," Ambrose is sure to add in a deliberate, chillingly-mild addendum loud enough to be heard by everyone. THANKS, DAD.
The Raven smirks. Yes. It does - a very avian look but there you have it. "A *friend*, I see." She caws, watching the man as he approaches, eyes glittering. Her wings settle against her back and she takes a moment to preen herself, beak running down one glossy feather before looking back up at the Fae. "And one for the land of Avalon, if I'm not mistaken." Yes, the bird is speaking. "Not well trained in his arts but a lot of potential. You are wise, Ambrose, to name him such."
Because Fae can't be trusted. Well, they can - you just should never bargain with them.
"Yes, do come stand by my tree, Master Cain. I'm rather impatient to see the results of this test." Astryd is amused by Ambroses response to Cains … response … to his daughter. Ah, the joys of parenthood. She remembers them well.
"I…well, thank you, Lieutenant." Cain was going to say he hadn't planned on joining, but…here he is. So, might as well be gracious, he's truly not terribly fond of being rude, after all. A brow quirks up as he steps over towards the tree, though he does offer Mira a friendly smile and hand. "Cain, yes. Charmed I'm sure." His accent is /pure/ NYC, probably the Bronx, though definitely not engaging a Bronx cheer (see note above about rude).
A glance to Ambrose is suddenly derailed by the Raven /speaking/, like, in whole sentences and a bit snarky too.
A moment to shut his mouth, it had been opened a bit as he stared, and then his deep green eyes narrow a bit from their wide-eyed phase, and he offers a half bow to the bird. "Oh, um, how do you do, miss Raven." Hey! Doesn't know her name, right?
Moving to the tree he can't ehlp but studdy the sheer size of the giant talking bird, and then turns to watch Ambrose. "So, Mira, you're going to film your father's experiment, then?" A grin. "I'll keep a sharp eye out, see if I can see anything of note, shall I?"
Because speedster eyes!
|ROLL| Ambrose +rolls 1d10 for: 9
Mira returns the young man's offered handshake with a lighter strength, as if she'd been archaically influenced in the manner of gripping pressure. "Yes, charmed," she replies, still wearing that polite smile. Ambrose is absolutely giving Cain the hairy eyeball now, complete with glittering red-pupil'd squint. Still, he knows Astryd is there to Mom them both to death if necessity requires — in theory. He turns to put his back to proceedings and resets his stance on the plateau even as Mira responds further to Cain's question: "We'd appreciate it. This could get messy." A sigh is accompanied by a small shake of her head. "It really is an experiment, since we have no idea what's going to happen. I'm grateful Lady Astryd is here just in case things get out of control."
Which is a compliment in itself, surely. Ambrose had forewarned Mira of the Valkyrie's own powers before they'd arrived.
"Do press record, please, Babri," Ambrose calls back over his shoulder once he's readied. Mira nods and depresses the button; the red light comes on to indicate a live recording. On goes the ring and with a twist…Ambrose vanishes entirely from sight. Within his mirrored reality, he can still see the others, but everything has gone to shades of shadows and wane light, chiaroscuro at best. Interestingly, he can be heard as he says in ancient Assyrian commandingly, "Istenum la sanan!"
There's a sense of a distant detonation and WHOOSH — there goes Ambrose ass over teakettle out of the mirrored reality to tumble-whump up against a boulder. "…fuck," he breathes as he works himself up to resting on an elbow on his side, clutching at his chest and then laughing almost madly as he hangs his head.
Mira simply winces. "Kent did mention inflection," she reminds her father.
"You can call me Astryd, Master Cain." The Raven answers, turning her avian head towards Ambrose as he prepares. One moment, there's a raven sitting in the tree above Cains head, the next - there's a tall blonde dressed in jeans, hikers and a t-shirt with a Valkyrie Motorcycles logo emblazoned on it. She's extremely pale though.
"Do not move, no matter what happens." She tells the speedster. If things go wrong, Ambroses Bane could be out of control.
As Ambrose is blasted backwards, the blonde sucks her cheeks in to not laugh herself. "It's Istenum *la* sanan, Ambrose. Not *Istenum* la sanan." The blonde seems to have a fondness for movie quotes.
"Try again."
That hairy eyeball is noticed, and Cain gets back some of his own by smiling insouciantly at the Master Thief, and winking. Oh man is he asking for it! Still, odds are he can run away if nothing else, right?
He does serious up when the risks are stated, if not expansively, at least they're mentioned.
"Cain then." He says when Lady Astryd says to omit any titles. "Sometimes it feels like the only thing I master is disasters." Added — and then another surprise - the corvid ends up a pale nordic looking woman with grey eyes. Man does he feel out of his depth here.
"So…you've met people like me before, Astryd?"
He watches as Ambrose blows himself up, he slows things down too, so he can enjoy every detail of the explosion. "Oh, that looked a bit painful."
To Mira. "Does your father blow himself up often?" He's expecting something like 'Far too often', or 'You have no idea', not even sure which is more likely.
|ROLL| Ambrose +rolls 1d10 for: 10
Mira absolutely laughs behind her hand at Astryd's commentary and the sound isn't perfectly muffled. Somebody got the reference! Ambrose lifts his head up and gives the Raven another carmine-bright squint.
"I have been subjected to that bedamned movie too many times to count. How very dare you use it as a benchmark for this experiment, Astryd," he grouses even as he works himself to his feet with a grunt and wincing touch at his lower back. Ow, his kidney. "I might be a little bruised," he agrees with Cain's thoughts on matters.
"Sterling, my step-brother, loves it," Mira asides to both Cain and Astryd by way of explanation, unable to keep from dimpling. The dimples apparently run in the family! "He actually doesn't blow himself up often. It tends to be more…" Mira pauses to think.
Ambrose points as he walks by. "«Behave»," he says tartly in what must be Shanghainese. Mira can't help the coughing-laugh.
"«Yes, father»," comes in the same language. Once she's certain Ambrose is once more involved in resetting his stance and readying himself, she adds more quietly for both Astryd and Cain's ears, "I think it's fair to say he throws himself into things heedless of his own safety?"
"Tzzzt." Another point in her direction from Dad, his back turned so the wrap-around of hand must occur. Mira cough-laughs again. Sorry-not-sorry apparently runs in the family too.
Again comes the slip of the ring onto his finger. This time, Ambrose takes a few lingering seconds to breathe once he's in this mirrored reality before he says, again commandingly, and with attention on his diction, "Istenum la sanan!" This time, there is again the distant sense of a rapid displacement of matter, and then Ambrose appears again. He turns at a forbiddingly slow speed, one hand still upheld in a fist before himself. His aura visibly flares around him now like heat rising from hot concrete, a mirage somehow given force of will. His eyes are completely red-washed, his pupils the brighter point within, and about his temples, a flickering coronet of concentrated Bane-light, crown prince of the braided curses.
And there's very little recognition in his look upon them all now. Mira gasps quietly. "…Baba…?"
No reply save for another knife-like squint at both Cain and Astryd both: the former because he's the Ambulatory Pastry and the latter because of the Maeljin on her shoulder.
"Many like you, yes. When you're over 3000 years old and walk the nine realms, you meet all sorts of being in your travels. You remind, a little, of a fae I met … oh, about a fifteen hundred years ago. Now. He knew how to satisfy a woman." Astryd delivers that to Cain with a straight face.
"Fenris hates it, I'm sure." The Valkyr says to Mira. "Something about the writing being derivatory or something. I keep telling him to sit back and just enjoy the fantasy but then again, I am consort to the Destroyer Wolf." Yes Cain, the Valkyrie is talking about the Fenrir Wolf - the one fated to eat the sun and end the world.
"«She is behaving.»" Astryd replies in the same language to Ambrose "«Just badly.»" The smirk gets wider. This is a much 'happier' woman than the one who left dinner the other night.
With Ambrose refocussing his attention, the blonde settles again and watches, grey eyes growing colder as she observes the results. "Mira, do not go near your father." She says sternly. "Well now, isn't that interesting…"
The Maeljin has been feeding on Astryds recklessness for months now, unbeknown to her and Fenris until recently. It flares at the presence of the anti-bane and flares again as Astryd removes her hair pin and transforms it to Shield and Sword. "I think, my friend, you need to go back in your box …" Let it gorge itself on her, she'll choke it.
Well, sadly, Cain doesn't speak any of the languages being used other than English, so no, didn't catch the reference. However, based on the movie comments, and the golden ring, he can readily make the leap they're talking about the Lord of the Rings. "Let me guess; something about the One Ring?" Cain loves him some Tolkien. "Loved the movies, though the Hobbit movies—yeah, not so much. Peter Jackson was given a bit too much license, and really, didn't need to do /three/ movies…" This to both ladies as everyone keeps an eye on Ambrose of the Nine Fingers…and the Ring of Doom! Or something.
Okay, he's no Frodo. And damned if Cain is going to play the part of Samwise! Astryd however, yes, the commentary about three-thousand years, and the Fenris Wolf, um…wow? And then he parses the satisfying a woman sentence around his myth-awe about the other things.
Why yes, the young man /can/ blush. Then there's the sanguine halo to Ambrose's head as he goes into Super Saiyan mode. "Well shit."
He looks to Astryd and Mira both. "I can get Mira to safety. Believe me." His own welfare he's not worried about nearly as much.
Mira nods with her lips scrunched in concern. On the camera rolls; on the screen, incredibly enough, some of the heat-wavering aura manages to be caught — it must be intensely strong to manifest as such. "He won't hurt me, even like this. I'm his daughter, of blood, so his curse doesn't see me." Still, she doesn't cause any point of distraction, holding still in a manner very much…practiced. This insinuates about her past, but what? Unknown for the time being.
"«I am no creature to be trammeled, psychopomp,»" hisses Ambrose in an ancient language of the desert winds and creeping shadows. Astryd garners more of his attention with her words, sword, and shield. It might feel like a sunbeam suddenly blotted out by a cloud, his lack of attention on Cain. "«What rides you trespasses on this Earth. It will not stand.»" The Bane doesn't necessarily care beyond nibbling, but the Anti-Bane is just infuriated at the Maeljin.
Mira gives Cain a look out of the corner of her eye. "I think that might be a good idea. I don't bounce like Baba does," she says in a near-whisper, looking at her father again with something near to tears in her eyes now.
"The Bane may not but that other creature …" Astryd says lowly, advancing on the gentleman thief, blade and shield at the ready. Even in jeans and a t-shirt, she has a … presence.
"Get it under control, Ambrose, before I take you down." She says. Giving the man a chance to assert himself.
"Do not move." That's to Cain and Mira. "The Bane will pounce on you like a delicious dessert. When the anti-bane moves on me, then you may move to distract the Bane. It is not possible for the two entities to do both things at once."
"No creature to be trammeled? No, you are not. You are to be beaten to a pulp by one who is your superior. Your superior in all ways." Fenris would be calling the Valkyr out about now - that reckless streak is driving her and they all know it.
"Wait…that's a *curse*?" Looks like the all you can eat buffet of magic is getting read into some very seriously high level eyes-only info right here. Though…he's also still a little shocked at the news that Astryd is a three thousand year old servant of the world ender Wolf. Looks like today is 'Weird Wednesday' for sure, thanks Ambrose.
Poised for action, he gently grips Mira's shoulders, moving with incredible slowness - which is a non-trivial exercise for the speedster-fae.
"Mira, when the, uh, 'anti-bane' moves, we're going to as well." And there's a ley line nearby so they'll be able to move quite far in what might be a tad disorienting. "You don't get motion sick, do you?" After all, her Dad does and very much so.
The instant it moves, so does Cain and he'll take Mira for a nice little run to a near by town, set her down by a coffee shop, pause to grab some donuts, eat said donuts, leave money on the counter, and then streak back in a blaze of purple lightning and blurred to invisible for the naked eye motion.
Astryd approaches and Ambrose counters by bringing his hands up in a very deliberate gestured set, fingers curled like claws, almost as if there were some casting element to how the braided Banes are puppeting his body.
"«I am eternal and you are but words on the wind. You walk to your demise even as we speak. You know it to be true. Come to me, Valkyr, come that I may cleanse you.»" One hand rotates palm-up to riffle fingers inwards in invitation. Astryd might begin to feel the very edges of the projected braided aura itself should she come closer, a pins-and-needles not cold, but hot.
"No, I don't get motion sickness…?" Mira risks a look over at Cain.
Then Ambrose moves to strike with a quick flicking gesture of his other hand, stepping in towards the Valkyrie — it summons a wash of the braided Banes towards her, meant to both drain a threat and attack the Maeljin on her shoulder.
Mira disappears in Cain's blur of departure and left standing by the coffee shop, she holds at her upper arms and quivers. She does, at least, know which town she's in! Out comes her phone to quickly text both Kent and Sterling about what's going on.
Cain will no doubt return in time to see Ambrose's hand still in the process of stretching out towards Astryd. If he risks going closer, the Bane immediately deviates to strike at HIM!
"What in Fenris' name do you think you're doing?" Astryd snaps at the speedster as he takes off. He's put Mira in danger even as she tried to protect her. There's no more time than that though as the Anti-Bane, Bane?, strikes at her.
"Learn to control yourself and perhaps we might speak of my cleaning, beast." Nope, Ambrose isn't home. It's just the two entities riding him like he is a beast of burden.
The heat prickles and runs through her, but she doesn't acknowledge it. "Is that the best you have, creature? I am the Raven of Fenris, if you want to take me down, you'll need better than that." That said, the shield is lowered and the Valkyr charges … rushing the man who is host. She'll connect and not pull the impact. It should take them both over the lip of that 'hill' and down the slope to the water pit.
"Sorry, have to run." States the speedster as he sets Mira down safe and sound /miles/ away ere he returns to the quarry. Nope, not going to leave the pair of Astryd and Ambrose on their own. Nope, this A Team has a special guest star.
Now, he does indeed arrive just in time to see the stretching out towards the once Valkyrie.
He returns, his exiting lightning fading out even as he arrival is heralded by more of the same, the difference being that Mira has been left somewhere safe, and far from the scene of the fray.
"Oh, this is so not good." He mutters to himself. He watches as Astyrd makes her shield bash attack.
Right then. Cain whirls into the pit, running along the walls fast as can be, creating a bit of a cyclone as he does and hopefully keeping both Astryd and the man in the grips of TWO opposing forces from spattering. Maybe. "Lady Astryd…what can I do to help you?"
As always, hooking into Asgardian life-force is like attempting to drown a star. Even with the combined forces of both Bane and Anti-Bane, Ambrose can be seen to tense, his teeth flashing and gone sharper than standard human. He increases the intensity of his focus until it becomes as if Astryd is charging into a sheer wall of sunflaring starvation, but her tenacity carries her through and straight to him. His outstretched palm certainly isn't enough to stop the Valkyrie's charge and the impact just might…sting a bit (bones snap with sharp sounds) — and that's before he attempts to dodge some of what she's dishing out. It works…mostly.
Expelled air still leaves him in a sharp, pained WHUFT before gravity takes them down and over the edge. No doubt limbs flail in the dust thrown up — Ambrose attempts to slap his good hand onto any limb he can reach if not around Astryd's neck in the process — Cain's cyclone brunts much of the damage dealt from tumbling travel down the slope — SPLASH — they hit the water. It's cold, to say the least, and Astryd is immediately released.
Ambrose surfaces and immediately garble-yells, his injured hand clutched to his chest. "«HOW DARE YOU — YOU FEATHERED — »" Ancient language peters out as he struggles to remain above the surface, not unable to swim, but down a hand. It's more than enough to shake him out of the braided Bane-fugue as he splashes around. "AUGH! Fuck!?" He's still absolutely radioactive with the Bane, but the Anti-Bane? It hates water and immediately squirrels away.
Astryd knows there's water at the end of this fall and honestly she expected to get a little bruised. What she really hoped to achieve, she's not entirely sure but certainly she hoped to knock some sense into Ambrose.
"Don't let the damn Bane feed on you." The woman growls as they tumble.
SPLASH
When she surfaces, her hair is plastered over her head and that t-shirt? It was white - there's no doubt the Valkyr could do well at Schoolies in Florida.
At least Ambrose didn't call her a birb - if he had, she might be required to hold the man under. As it is, she slogs to a stand and grabs at the back of Ambroses shirt - dragging him up to a stand. "Get the damn Bane under control. I don't care to be nibbled on any further."
Oh yes, it stings but it's but the sting she's most familiar with.
It will be a minute or two before she 'hefts' the struggling Ambrose to the shore and deposits him. "If you have a first aid kit anywhere near, we will need it."
Gravity is a thing, apparently. After all, one of the universal forces, however ill understood is not to be ignored. Fortunately there's the option to nudge things a bit, to mitigate the thumping and splat-nossity impending. Cain /is/ a first responder after all, ironic for a speedster - he tends to go first literally in a lot of cases!
"Yeah…been there, done that, have the t-shirt. NOT interested in being a snack, thanks." Stupid arcanovores!
Once they emerge somewhat the worse for wear, and yes—hard /not/ to notice the rather healthy young seeming woman inside that wet t-shirt, thanks…once they emerge, Cain will 'mmmph' and nod to Astryd. "Actually…I'm a paramedic, back in a jiff."
Zooooom!
He'll return in a few minutes with one of the 'go bags' that Paramedics will take into the field.
Hopefully the Bane is better under control now that anti-bane has left the playing field for now.
Yoinked briefly under by Astryd's drag towards a more shallow section of the water basin, the Jackal can't do much more than cough up the moisture in his lungs when he surfaces to stumble along. He makes a couple of retching sounds before he inhales and coughs, soaked through and through, his own long-sleeved shirt clinging like a second skin.
"You BROKE MY HAND?!" yells Ambrose once they make the shore. It is indeed broken all to hell, but hey, the Bane's attention is reversed now to fixing its host. He lets out another choked sound and clutches his hand against his chest even as the Bane gets to work at reversing the broken bones. Healing, yes, but unkind — the entire affair on rapid reverse, enough to leave his face paling and frame shivering as he huddles on himself. "F-f-f-f-f-fuck!" he chatters out, along with "Thank y-y-you," at the Valkyrie, and then, "GOD — bloody FUCK — AUGH!"
Ambrose has to sit down heavily. That was the thumb re-socketing, how fun.
"See — see to her, Cain, I — " Another yelp. " — will be fine in — FUCK — a short time — BLOODY — " Booted feet squelchily kick at the ground in front of him, sending a rock or two pittering away into the water.
"Perhaps I did." Astryd says cooly, looking at Ambrose, not reaching to aid the man just yet. "But I didn't kill you, drown you or break your neck. I don't know what happened, Ambrose, but that wasn't you and the Bane and the Anti-Bane weren't playing nicely together."
She's not apologetic at all for the damage. It is, in her book, a minor inconvenience.
When Cain returns, Astryd nods and steps back "There is nothing that you can do for me. But his hand, if it is *indeed* broken, will need triage and then we should get him to a clinic for treatment. Ambrose, is the Bane under control?"
It's all so … cool
"Well, look on the bright side, Atherton, she COULD have broken your face." Cain offers helpfully. So not helpful. Still, he did mean well. He's more than a little hesitant to approach the Master Thief after having seen that recent display, however. "So…neither of you need my help then?"
A pause, and then. "Mira's safe." He informs. "Left her by the Wolfe diner. Also, hit Krispy Kreme on the way back." Because every speedster needs to make sure they have plenty of sugar to keep them buzzing, that's the secret - there's no 'speed force', nope, that's a creation of the media. There's just sugar!
"I will be FINE!" snarls Ambrose and very literally flails his good hand in Cain's direction in warning. "Ruddy — OW!" Still, knowing that kind-hearted Cain has probably heard that excuse a million-bajillion times in his span of existence as a paramedic, the Jackal then offers his injured hand out into view.
— just in time for everyone to see the pinkie re-socket itself and straighten into proper setting at the middle joint with a muted snap. He chokes and squints, still resolved to demonstrate that he isn't in need of immediate help. Epic bruising beneath the skin begins to visibly recede like vanishing ink and he grits his teeth as something slides back into place within his wrist. Finally, with a rush of cool, the Bane retracts from his hand to go work at something internally. His sigh catches. "Spleen rupture," he hoarsely informs the group.
Finally, it appears things have slowed down and stopped. There isn't a hint of the Bane about him but for the low glow in the back of his pupils; it's used much to heal its host and needs to be recharged. Cain is given a burning look.
"If you would retrieve my daughter, please." This he asks very steadily even as he rests on one hip, still panting, still dripping water.
"Don't growl, Ambrose. It doesn't become you." Astryd answers, stretching and pulling the shirt from against her skin. She doesn't seem affected by the cool nip to the weather. "I guess we don't, unless you want to pick us up coffee and danishes on your way back with his daughter."
The Valkyr sighs and sits down heavily next to Ambrose. "We need to speak about what happened and work out if that's what supposed to occur or if it was a … mistake."
The blonde gives the gentlemen thief a sidelong look "I am sorry I hurt you, Ambrose. I could see no other way to stop the madness that was about to ensue."
Actually…that's something he's heard every day of work ever, so yeah, a metric f-ton or two times. It is fascinating, however, like a train wreck - to /see/ the man's hand healing itself, no matter the pain. Cain winces a couple times in sympathy, can't be a good EMT without at least a bit of empathy, after all. At least not in Cain's book you can't. Some guys can be a bit cold, very pragmatic—and to be fair, they DO get results. That's not Cain's way.
"Really? Did you just 'ow, my spleen!' us?" Cain asks, not really expecting that Ambrose might have meant that literally. After all, who would sense 'Oh, yeah, feels like…spleen, definitely the spleen'? Not like internal organs have a lot of sensory nerves attached after all.
A nod about the daughter request and then a faint smile at the (still mythic and awe inspiring figure of legend) Lady Astryd. "Sure, you prefer cheese or fruit danishes?" He'll probably get both regardless, but good to know what people prefer. A faint frown. "You know, you and Mira share something…not sure what, a vibrancy…" And then Cain and his go-bag vanish in a crackle of purple energy as he runs off. The bag is put away, and he'll appear next to Mira a few moments later as she texts. "Hi, looks like things are okay again, we're going to bring back coffee and danishes, be right back." Zoom, he zips off, returning after a short bit with a box of pastries (non-ambulatory!), cheese and fruit danishes, assorted. A box coffee and several cups and two large, fluffy towels.
"Mind holding the goodies?" Once he has answer from Mira, he scoops her up in a bridal carry, and runs them back to the quarry to return a few minutes after he'd left.
The master-thief scoots over a touch when Astryd sits down, not in insult but to give her space. Still seated, he then puts his face in his hands before running all fingers back through his hair. It leaves the moonsilvered locks all sorts of mussed. The twice-cursed ring, still on his finger, is gemstone-up, not engaged in any form of use.
His eyes remain on the stilled water pool now. "No, you were correct to do so, Astryd. It was a necessary evil and brought me back to myself. It felt…like a fugue state of influence. I have rarely encountered it; Kent has seen it but twice and he has been present to stifle it." And Kent wasn't there for over a century otherwise. "I believe this is what is supposed to occur, the blended curses acting as one, but…I must work to overcome the initial surge over my sense of self. This will be done." It has the air of an oath, his words: there won't be another slip, not on his watch.
Back by the coffee jump miiiiiiles away, Mira jumps in place as Cain reappears. Her phone is still out and she's frozen in mid-text to Sterling. Her stare at him is wide-eyed, still glossy with tears. "Things are okay?" she echoes, very startled still. There he vanishes again and the young woman turns in place to try and see where he'd gone off too — and there he is, back again, and she puts a hand over her mouth against another sound of surprise. "Y-Yes, I can hold the goodies…!" Goodies all held, there she is carried up, and ZOOM.
Ambrose looks up again, having only just informed Astryd that he would work to overcome the dual curses' influence on him. And there's Cain and Mira! The young woman squiggles out of the bridal carry and shoves all of the goodies back at Cain. "Oh, thank bloody g — OOF!" Ambrose half-falls over in his sit as his daughter just about tackles him and clings, hugging him like a koala bear to a tree. "I am fine, Babri! I am fine!"
To Cain in particular, he nods. "Thank you, Master Cain, for keeping her safe." A beat, and he adds belatedly, "And yes, my spleen. It has been damaged enough times for me to recognize the effects."
Taking no offense, Astryd rests her arms on her knees and gazes out at the now still water. "So the Banes weaved themselves together and became one - that makes sense. But it's not exactly an Anti-Bane is it? It detected the Maeljin attached to me and wanted to remove it."
Cain will have returned by now to hear all this. "The Maeljin did not like it much, I must tell you." She's even paler than the white of her shirt at the moment and she looks … tired.
"He is fine, Mira. The Bane is healing the worst of his hurts. Do you *think* you *can* master it, Ambrose? I do not mind being here to ensure you … remain yourself."
Looking at the food, Astryd nods. When Cain leaves, he'll find a suitable sum of money pressed into his hands. "If you could do the honours please, Master Cain." She doesn't ask if he has any questions. She may have answers but they are not hers to give.
There's more work to be done this afternoon but for now, they'll have coffee and eat those danishes.
Ooooh, there's an apple one. Not as good as those that Astryd makes but … it's good.
Transfer of goodies done, Cain is sort of encouraged and sort of creeped out that Ambrose has a daughter that loves him. But…the guy is /cursed/. He didn't really know that it was a LITERAL thing. He didn't trust what dipshit the wonder twat Oliver had to say, he sort of figured that Ambrose had meant it was a metaphorical curse. So his problem, that's not on HIM, not really.
That's kind of an important thing realize.
A moment to hand each of the pair of Astryd and Ambrose their own big, fluffy towel, Cain will indeed pour the coffees for everyone. "Cream and sugar?" He'll ask the Raven, and yes, he's DYING of curiousity. That's probably -his- bane, honestly. Each person will be asked, and their coffee doctored and then handed out to go with the assorted danish, hell, he even has napkins! Do something right the first time, yeah?
Once everyone has snackage, he will sit down Indian style with his own coffee (cream and extra sugar, of course), and couple danishes to listen, and see what he can figure out just by paying attention.
Mmm, danishes. Even Ambrose can't help but eye the boxes. He won't touch the coffee, but it's no offense meant to either Cain or the brew — he's simply all about tea at heart. Mira, however, won't say no to a cup of coffee and one of the danishes. She sits tucked against her father as she sips and eats, within the wrapping curl of his arm, even if he and his clothing are still damp beneath the fluffy towel gladly taken.
"I would not call it an anti-curse at heart, not truly. It may not wish to share existence with my own curse, but…its needs are different. I have warped it, I believe, to be defensive of this reality," Ambrose explains to Astryd and to Cain, by proxy of his nearness. "My own curse is of hunger. It cares not for this reality, only supplicating its desire to consume." Creepy, but hey, curses. "I will master their combined state. There is no other option. Given the camera likely recorded at least a portion of this experiment, Kent will be able to give aid in the matter."
"I think maybe you try it next time at home…?" Mira asks, having composed herself the better for coffee and danish.
"Yes, within multiple sets of wardings, I agree," Ambrose confirms, then kissing at his daughter's dark hair and gently rubbing at her outer arm. It's clear that the Bane isn't interested in the least in Kazimira, further cementing her claim earlier that it ignores the bloodline of its host.
"Thank you, Cain," Mira adds, lifting her half-finished cup of coffee to him in gratitude.
"Please." If Astryd had been thinking she would have ordered tea for Ambrose but she wasn't and so he must suffer … more.
"Come to our house. The back yard is large and the place is warded. And if you misbehave again, I'll drop you in the pool." The blonde smirks at the gentleman thief watching his interaction with the young lady. "I would like to hear what Kent has to say on the matter but we shouldn't delay and if you think you really can master the twinned beasts, then maybe we'll have a solution for my own little challenge."
"For now though, I suggest we eat and drink and then head home. I would like a hot shower and I should report to Fenris." If she knew that Cain was thinking she was Fenris' servant she would laugh. So would the God-Wolf most likely. It's an … interesting … relationship the pair have.
"And yes, Thank you Cain for getting us sustenance so quickly."
"No worries, Lieutenant." Cain says with a smile. "I'm an EMT, my first thought is always to do what I can to help keep things from getting out of hand." And no, he does not want to picture being injured so often as to be able to identify internal injuries by the body's reaction to them, that's…ugh. Granted, Cain heals amazingly fast, awkwardly fast in the case of broken bones.
Oh man, these people all live in a world steeped in magic and lore, must be nice to not live in the dark most of the time. Ah well.
Cain smiles to Mira. "My pleasure, thank you for not getting sick during the run." Nope, not teasing the Ambrose at all, not one dram. Seeing that Astryd, for all she's millennia old still teases and quips actually gives Cain a bit of hope, after all, no telling how long HE will live, he's not even half way to his first century and no end in sight. "Oh, seriously, fast is kind of my thing. Tempted to invite you all over for tea sometime."
A smile then. "Anyway, if anyone needs a lift, let me know…"
Ambrose snorts quietly. "Yes, after I am more certain of myself, I will avail myself of your backyard. If you needs must drop me in the pool again, Astryd, there are other issues we may need to contest," he mutters, making Mira glance over at her father. He gives her a benign look in reply and she smirks in response, recognizing the bland funning in him. "And do be sure to vomit on Master Cain should he attempt to move you as such again, Babri."
"Baba!" Mira scowls and the Jackal relents.
"Right, right…" he murmurs indulgently, finishing the rest of his danish.
Mira adds, to Astryd and Cain both, "We arrived her via motorcycle, so we'll be able to get home safely, thank you. I'll get the camera before we leave. Kent will have opinions." A beat. "Sterling might be impressed."
"My step-son is never impressed," argues Ambrose with no ire.
"He'll tell you that you need to rotate at the hip to avoid being tackled," Mira notes.
Ambrose simply sighs long-sufferingly. Offspring. Oy.