Featuring: Delilah Shaw, Delilah Harper-Windgrace, Cassandre Lavigne, Gonzo Giustizieri and Jericho
Synopsis: Lilah Windgrace comes across Delilah Shaw, a seemingly frantic (and unknowingly cursed) woman brandishing a gun. Lilah tries to talk her down…it goes about as well as can be expected, with blood and broken bones. Thankfully, calmer forces show up as well.
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EXT - City Park
Delilah Shaw was.. not doing 'well', to put it lightly. The past week since the graveyard had been a nonstop torrent of the most intense paranoia she'd felt in.. awhile, really. Her mind appeared to be coping with the added stress by inserting more blocks into her memory over time, and while she had a fleeting recollection of bodies mounting to her name she couldn't for the life of her remember /who/ she'd forcibly shed from the mortal coil. Must not have been terribly important for her to forget so easily. A stranger walking into the park caught her eye. Some nameless local she should neither know nor care to know, but one that had an eerie sense of familiarity to them.. enough so that within half an hour of the person encountering the ginger soldier on the bench, the citizen was fleeing from her in terror after a bout of shouting erupted in the park. "That's right!" Delilah bellows out into the air, revolver drawn in one hand. "Run! Quit fuckin' following me everywhere!"
Delilah Harper-Windgrace made her way up from the Seiiki district following a run in the woods. A light sheen of sweat still glistened on her forehead, and her clothing was rumbled, a small grass stain visible one pant leg where she'd doffed the clothing to run as nature intended. She was just approaching the bakery when she overheard a yelling coming from the park, and saw a person bolting from the gates, running past her in the opposite direction. Frowning, Lilah moved diagonally, crossing the street in the direction of the park and towards the gate, where she stopped. Catching sight of a woman in black, she raised a questioning eyebrow, calling out, "Oi, lass...what's with th' shoutin' then...?"
Delilah Shaw visibly froze when she heard a voice from off to one corner of her periphery. She'd retreated back to one of the adjoining gates to the park by then, gun gripped tight enough in one hand that her already corpse-pale fingerse were white-knuckling at the joints. "Fuckin' shite's been following me all over town. Swear to Christ above, everybody on this bleedin' island's nosier than a Protestant that caught wind of a Catholic in the area." She looked back to the other Delilah for a moment, trying to get a proper gauge of her. And.. while she does flick the safety on the gun back 'on', she makes no move to holster it. Instead she starts up the process of lighting a cigarette. "It's fine. Stupid arse got the message."
Lilah felt her limbs tense when her eyes landed on the gun. It wasn't like this person could actually hurt her with it...not really...but the bloody things were noisy, and having to clean blood out of her clothing was bound to put Aelwyd in a foul mood. She relaxed some when she heard the click of the pistol's safety, but guns were still bound to draw attention. "Well...that's good the arse go the message..." She paused, taking a few steps further into the park, her keen eyes moving over this strange woman. She had style, that was for sure...in other circumstances, she'd likely say so, but instead what she said was, "Ye think mebbe shites been followin' ye 'round the island 'cause yer wavin' a pistol aboot? Fowk can be a bit funny 'boot that sorta thing?"
Delilah Shaw narrowed her eyes a bit at the implication, the gun being tossed to another hand, then shoved into its holster when the stranger didn't seem to actively be hostile to her. On the reverse of things, she didn't even really need the firearm. But it was harder to explain being able to punch someone's head off then shoot them in the back of it. "I'm not goin' round town waving a gun all hours of the bloody day, woman. That's for special occasions." She jerks a finger past the woman's head towards where the stranger could bee seen as a speck on the horizon still. "Like when I swear I've seen the same cunt's face following me for three blocks. Which seems to be a trend round here." It was around now, in close proximity to each other, that Delilah's emotional state was far easier to discern. She kept flicking her eyes around every few minutes. Checking both entrances to the place, glancing up at windows or faraway street corners. Fidgety in general, really. "Whatever. It's fine. Sorry bout the nuisance and all.
Delilah Harper-Windgrace couldn't help the small smirk that curved her lips at the offended nature the woman seemed to take at her implication at the gun being out. "In fairness, this is the first time Ah'm meetin' ye, yeh? If we'd encounter one another before, sure, Ah'm gonna knaw yer not wavin' yer barker aboot. When it's yer first impression of someone, things're less clear." When the woman pointed past her shoulder, Lilah turned to follow the image, snickering as she watched the figure still running in the distanct. "Aye, Ah dinnae think ye've anything ta worry 'boot him followin' ye any longer. Ah'm fair certain he shat himself while he wis runnin' past me." Turning back, she canted her head to the side, looking the woman over. She had cuts on her face. Lilah couldn't make much out scent wise apart from her freshly lit cigarette, but soundwise...as much the woman seemed to be wound up, she came across as exceptionally quiet. And then it hit her...it was the lack of a heartbeat. Bloody hell. Taking a few more careful steps forward, Lilah said, "Ye had a rough gae of it then?" And she pointed at her own face, then across at the woman's.
Delilah Shaw grunts out in response, the cigarette lit enough now that she could put it between her lips and pull on it. The end lit up orange for a second or three, then dimmed as she let smoke slip out through her nose. "Yeah, that's.. feckin' fair I suppose on both counts. Any fool with a lick o' sense does when you point a revolver at their head. Only the stupid and the mad that stick 'round after the iron gets pulled. Won't be the last though." Her hands move up to run up her own face, ultimately serving to brush some hair from her eyes. The path of it seems to show little care for avoiding the scrapes on her skin, though, even though the pain does cause her to suck in a quick breath when she remembers they're there. An eyebrow raises as she looks at Lilah, then connects the question to the dull flare of pain coming from the scratches. "Yeah. Got into a thing the other night out on the docks with another one. Same deal, only that one decided to try his luck. Had a scrap." The hands drop and her hair stays mostly out of her face, now. "Name's Delilah. You?"
Delilah's eyebrows shot up in obvious surprise. Who'd have thought when she chose this name that she'd run into another so quickly. "Huh..." she said, eventually, "It's funny ye shoud mention it, but Ah'm called Delilah as well. But ye can call Lilah, just sae things is less confusin with two red haired Delilahs. Lilah Harper-Windgrace...good ta meet ye." She smirked, offering a hand to shake, if the other woman chose to do so. "Shame 'boot yer scrap on the docks. Some dozy fockers just dinnae knaw when ta back down, huh? Were they stupid, mad, or a bit of both? Either way, hope ye left 'em walkin' funny." Moving her had to reach into her waistcoat, she paused, eyes moving down to the woman's pistol, and back up to her face, explaining quickly, "Just goin' fer a flask," before she pulled out a golden drinking flask, wrapped in a worn black leather. Uncapping it, she offered it to the woman first, saying, "Scotch?"
Delilah Shaw slowly raised up an eyebrow as the unexpected coincidence revealing itself, and there's.. something in her eyes that implies suspicion. The dawning of an idea, at least. "Interesting coincidence. Not many women back home bore the name, running into one in my first month and change of being round here is.. somethin', alright." She sighs, relaxing just enough to lean up against a stone post lining the gate as she pulls on the cigarette again. "Stupid, likely. Caught them following me when I walked out to the docks to have a drink.. called him on it, said I was lyin', I beat his ass." And then drained out all but of a drop of the man's blood, shoved him in a packing crate, and went on her way. She leaves that part unsaid obviously, because it wouldn't make Lilah's immediate wariness any better. Smart call though, because one of Delilah's hands did twitch away from her side and only stopped when Lilah pulled out a flask. She holds up a finger, repeats 'Flask' out loud, and pulls out a dented-up shiny metal one. It's plain silvery metal, with a length of tape labeling the flask 'Holy Water' on it in pencil across the front. "Always carry in more sense than one. More of a whiskey girl."
Lilah's eyes moved down to Delilah's own flask, which has seen better days, to be sure. She tried not to flinch...the thing probably wasn't actually silver, and anyway they were seemingly happy to each drink their own and so she brought her flask to her lips, taking a quick swig. Flashing her new acquaintance a toothy grin, she offered a little shake of the head, "Och, ye ask me, scotch is the only one worthy of bein' called whisky...but ye'va has a hard time of it, sae ye can drink what ye choose," and she offered the other Delilah a companionable wink. Taking another swig before returning her flask to her vest pocket, she added, "Between ye an' Ah, yer the first other Delilah Ah've come across since Ah chose the name. It's no' my original name...Ah chose it 'cause Ah read it in a book, and th' family that adopted me all had 'D' name children. But dinnae be spreadin' that news around, yeh?"
Cassandre Lavigne's steps are smooth and slow, one hand in her pockets as she heads for the park. There's a book under that arm while another gloved hand pushes open the gate with a loud creak, warning of her approach long before she's ever close enough to hear any words. Rather than look at the others in the park, she moves to a bench so she can seat herself there and pull her bag from her shoulder to lay out next to her. There's a glass bottle that she pulls free, the dark green glass obscuring the color of the drink within. Then the book is placed in her lap, so she might gently flip through the pages to her marked spot so she can sip at her homemade tea and read a riveting medical law text. Legal Guide for London Hospitals by one E. Hoyt. The word 'scotch' however draws her attention up briefly before her gaze returns to the book.
Gonzo Giustizieri had just finished brushing down a horse at the stables, and she certainly smells like it. Technically she's on her way back to the academy dorms, shoes covered in muck, clothes covered in horse hair and hay, absentminded look on her face. It's the chatter that catches her attention first, and then...hey, those're...She shoves a boot onto the stone midsection of the gate, boosting herself up, then swings a leg over the fence. The other leg follows, and she hops down onto the grass, taking long, bounding strides toward the pair on the other side. "Ladies! How is this fine night treating you?" A pause, a double-take at the guns, a look of exaggerated shock. "Hey, hey, hey, are those things loaded?" She twists around to glare at Cassandre. "You weren't going to sit there and let this woman get shot, were you?"
Delilah Shaw rolled her eyes clear back into her head at the insistence, tilting her head back long enough to take a long drink off of it. "Whiskey's whiskey. Pickin' at which of our foul-mouthed red-haired peoples make it better sounds like a recipe for us to throw fists." She grunts out a response, and between that remark and the occasional slips of an accent.. wasn't hard to guess which part of Europe she was from. "Picked it myself when I.." She trails off a bit. "..remade myself. And fine by me, so long as you don't mind that I think naming schemes for children are a weird-arse thing. May as well name 'em thing one, two, so on." She lets the flask slip back into her pocket as well, which is maybe a bad thing because now her hand's free to dip down to her holster at the arrival of yet another stranger. Silence quickly settles there, and if the newcomers were to look up long enough it'd be hard to miss Delilah's eyes flicking her way and /staying/ there. Examining them. The tension that slips into her body after that isn't hard to miss as it's reflected into a sudden rigidity of posture. And then there's another fresh body jumping the gate and demanding things about her weapon, and Delilah's suddenly on /full/ alert. "Feckin' knew it." She hisses out, starting to back up towards the gate next to her.
Lilah quickly glanced over her shoulder at the creak of the park gate, eyes following on another figure dressed in black, but she didn't seem to be paying the two of them any attention so Lilah turned back to Delilah. She smirked and shook her head at the comment about naming traditions and was quick to shake her head. "Nae, think what ye will. They're a weird family, if Ah'm bein' honest...but they're English, sae that's ta be expected. Ye ask me, names're like a good suit...ye wear it fer a while, but eventually it's gonna get threadbare, and sae then ye find yerself a new one." She grinned at this. But then she smelled it...manure and hay, heard the forth person going over the gate, and felt the tension in the air as the person saw Delilah's gun and seemed to immediately panic. Lilah felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and she muttered, "Fock..." as she watched Delilah, who seemed to have been calming down, was back on full, frantic alert. Clenching her teeth, her claws slipped out of the ends of her fingers, just in case.
Cassandre Lavigne's head jerks up as she hears a strange voice addressing her. "Hmm?" There's a lean as she goes to look around the foliage in her eyeline before shaking her head to Gonzo. "I'm afraid that, Sir? Madame? Do excuse me, I did not bring my glasses with me to read. Still, their weapons and shooting each other seems like their business, not mine. Should they need treatment, in the case of a shootout, I will be able to provide medical treatment." Seeing Delilah's anger and panic, she holds up both hands and speaks in an even tone. "No one will take your things from you. Everyone is distant from you. You have plenty of time and space to make sure you are safe. I would like to stand and fetch the brightly colored eyesore to come sit with me so you will not be disturbed, is that acceptable? Or perhaps..." She looks to Gonzo. "You would like to walk slowly and join me here?"
Gonzo Giustizieri is either totally oblivious to the potential dangers of running up to someone with multiple firearms strapped to herself, or she's accepted the idea of being shot to ribbons and simply doesn't care. Either way, not the smartest move. Still, when she sees Delilah backing up and the other Delilah tensing, she slows her gait, holds up her hands like she's approaching a spooked horse. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there! I am not here to hurt you, yes? And running in those shoes, I think it is not so easy. How is it said, a one-way ticket to a sprained ankle?" A shake of the head, then a curious look as Cassandre pipes up. "Yes, what she says-- wait, eyesore?" Hold on, no, that's a compliment. She twists around to look at Cassandre, then back at the Delilahs, then back at Cassandre. "You! Have no idea what I like. Walking slowly? Very far down on my list. Sitting next to a..." She squints at the woman, and...hmm. "Yes, a beautiful woman? Well..." She takes a long, sloooow step backward, then a few more, giving the Delilahs more space. "Look, look, I am no threat to you. We are all friends here."
Delilah Shaw shot a leg out behind her to kick the gate open just in case, and there's a loud SHRIEK as her boot contacts the hinge hard enough that it snaps the metal completely. The force of it more or less dislodges the gate, which is.. likely odd to the rest of the people looking at her, even for someone of her size. Maybe it was just old hinges and she hit the right spot. Probably not though because that hinge looked /broken/. Someone's talking to her, or she thinks she is. "You're right. Nobody will." Her response is delivered with a significantly more monotone delivery than her previous, almost friendly tone of voice she'd had when conversing with Lilah. Both newcomers seem to at least /try/ and reassure her they're not a threat. And she starts to genuinely believe them for a tick until she feels that wound on her back /pulse/ into her flesh. Delilah's eyes screw shut at the sight of it and she grabs for her head with a hand at the feeling of it, the other grabbing for the handle of her gun. And.. she starts to pull. "Everybody I catch keeps feckin' saying that kinda shite."
Lilah heard the folks behind her, but her attention remained completely on the woman before her now that she'd been set off. Holding up her hands in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture, she said, "Delilah, yer awright...we're just talkin' calm...nae one is gonna hurt ye..." She didn't flinch when the woman kicked the gate behind her off it's hinges, in fact the gesture just seemed to reassure her of her initial instinct about this woman without a heartbeat. For half a heartbeat, it seemed like the words of the others might have been having an effect. But then, something happened...she was pawing at the back of her neck...and reaching for the gun. In a split second, Lilah's hard was darting out in a blur, trying to disarm the woman before her.
Cassandre Lavigne presses her lips together to give Gonzo a look of worried askance. "I do not and would like to fix this gap in my knowledge." Then when Delilah shaw goes to pull her gun, Cassandre still, her shoulders relaxing, her hands still held up in peace. "You are in control of this situation. As I said, I'm a doctor and while I'm not familiar with the particulars of your weapon, I wonder if you could describe your weapon for me? Details as far as the caliber of the rifle, typical range, materials used? That would be a useful way to show all here the threat that you are so they respect you." The call for details is a calculated one, hoping to draw her focus into something small and routine to list, as Cassandre pulls on the soothing aura of peace she usually keeps contained within her own flesh, but then Harper-Windgrace is moving to disarm the disturbed Delilah before the radiant peace is pulled free. However, in wanting to act as a distraction in the hopes the other is successful in her attempt, Cassandre stands and moves closer with slow steps.
Gonzo Giustizieri raises her hands higher at the sound of the gate hitting the ground, stopping her retreat to stare at the broken metal. Huh. The girls back in Naples never did shit like this. And...God, ugh, the way Delilah's talking, it's familiar, and she has to hold back a groan. She came to this island to get /away/ from the job, damn it. She's got her eyes on the gun as it's raised, ready to yank the bullets out one by one if she has to, concentrating on the feeling of the steel, but then Lilah steps in-- and ouch, hm, this could get bad. "Yes, yes, your weapon. Which is your favorite? The big one or the small one?" With Cassandre approaching from one side, she hangs near the other side of the fountain, still a good few steps away from the others, arms in the air. "Wait, is there something with your head? Are you injured?" This time, genuine concern is in her voice as she looks at Delilah. "She said she was a doctor, she can help you."
Delilah Shaw starting backing on up into the entry she'd made for herself when she heard Cassandre off to her right. the attempt.. seems to have been primed to work for a second before she saw Lilah go for her gun, because she was actually starting to answer at first. "Service revolver. .455 caliber, ca-" Unfortunate for Lilah, and all of them really, she was just a hair faster on the draw and reached out to grab for the other woman's wrist. "Knew it. Feckin' knew it." She repeats herself, seemingly convinced of the fact that her paranoia's been justified by the attempt. She moves to shove backwards at the other woman, and it's apparent in the way she has to move that there's /some/ kind of wound to her back she was hiding under that coat. "Just get away from me. All of you, get /away/ from me!" If successful, she'd fully pull the gun this time and get ready to bolt.
Lilah muttered a soft "Shite," a genuine surprise, and perhaps a little admiration in her voice as Delilah managed to reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her cold. She caught her...this woman caught her. Lilah was used to being amongst the fastest in any situation she found herself...this was notable. Any other time, she may have even commented on the situation. Except that this woman, who was obviously strong enough to rend metal from concrete, was trying to shove her back. Clenching her teeth, Lilah set her feet, and managed to hold back the shove, moving back barely an inch. Her eyes, formerly a soft blue-grey, has shifted to a vibrant gold and an animalistic growl echoed from deep in the Scot's throat. Her voice came out rougher as she said, "Delilah...calm down! Nae one's...tryin' ta harm ye...but gaein' fer yer gun's a bad idea..." And with her free hand, she again tried to prevent her from getting at her pistol, grabbing at the hand that help her one wrist.
Cassandre Lavigne's hands are still up. "I will come no closer. "I will ask, if you're going to shoot, that you shoot me and aim below the knee. It will make it so no one people can chase after you, they'll be too busy tending me and I can talk them through how to do so. Such a shot is less likely to cause lifelong damage. You only want to be safe and away right? You don't want to hurt anyone." Now the aura of peace, the restorative power to soothe the injured soul held within her, seeps out slowly turning the space around her into wellspring of calm. She takes in a deep breath, trying to push away the doubt that the attempt to physically disarm the frightened Delilah might undo her work.
Gonzo Giustizieri points between the Delilahs. "Weren't you getting along a minute ago? Being friendly? You think her allegiance changed so quickly?" Well, step one of approaching a wounded animal calmly and sensitively...failed, so step two...she keeps both hands raised-- wait, growling...? This is getting a little weird. Not bad weird, just...weird. "Hey, holding the gun, it makes her feel better, yeah? Let her go, let her keep the weapon! All of us, we can handle being shot. Her injury, her safety, that is what is important here, can we agree?" An eyebrow is raised in Cassandre's direction as she offers to get shot, but eh, she won't complain. She doesn't register the calm aura as anything obtrusive, only supplementing the confidence that was already there. Yeah, they can do this.
Delilah Shaw appears to respond to the attempts to calm her by not only resiting her, but grabbing for her again with.. about as much grace as you might image out of a distressed vampire might. "I'll calm down.. soon as.. ye let me feckin' LEAVE!" She's the one that's just a breath slower this time, and Lilah's hand clamps down onto her wrist. "Let." She jerks out, but can't quite get the digits off of her. "Go. OF ME." The wound pulses again and makes her falter for a bit, but she comes back up with a look to her eyes that implies attempts to talk her down were going to hit a brick wall. Because a second after, Delilah rears her head back and there's a loud shout as she pulls back a punch and shoots it out towards the arm that's got ahold of her. It... sadly wasn't until /after/ the punch was thrown that whatever was in the air coming off of Cassandre started to hit her, promising to take the edge away.
Lilah heard the others, and there was this odd sense of calm moving over her like a wave. It was starting to occur to her that Delilah seemed more like a scared animal, wanting to leave, and hadn't actually made any hostile actions. Why the bloody hell was she holding onto her arm?? Letting out a sigh, her voice came out calmer as she began to say, "Aye, yer right, Ah shou—" She didn't have a chance to finish her sentence, just barely saw Delilah's other hand shooting out in a fist before she heard a loud, sickening crack around where her left arm met her shoulder. The next thing she knew, she was twisting through the air and crashing into the base of the fountain with a dazed 'oof'. With a a shake of her head, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. "Shite..." she exclaimed, "Ye broke ma glasses." She finished, her left arm hanging limp and useless at her side, the bones of her shoulder poking through her shirt in a bloody mess.
Jericho had heard the shouting from a block down the road. It wasn't really what he was out here on this trip doing. But somewhere new deserved something to figure out. Somewhere to figure out. And well... He's curious about this new city, somewhere different than what he's used. to. So he follows the noise. Deep red eyes trail over each of the people that are centered in the square, a dark brow lifting at the eccentric mixture of people. the heady emotions trail across his tongue and pallete like a delicious vintage wine, teasing the notes with subtle and sour hints that blend to make a combination to remember. The calm that is slinking through is absently noted, but not called on. He's tall enough to lean forward to rest his arms against the wall...and slowly add a bit of his own power into the mix, sending tendrils of lassitude, relaxation, carefully trying to deescalate, all with that slow smirk on his lips, fingers trailing against the stone, eyes half-lidded.
Cassandre Lavigne watches the punch that sends Lilah into the fountain's base with an alien serenity and exactly as promised, she comes no closer. The growling, the claws and that ruined gate, none are enough to pierce her inner calm. She uses a soft and low tone on the fighting Delilah. "If everyone lets you go, backs up to the corner, would you like to come to me? You can keep your weapon on me. I will not move and you can show me your injury, if you have one? Then I can tell you what you need from my bag to treat it yourself, or where to get what you need." She now looks over to the ruined shoulder of the other. "You will need more care than my bag can provide." She looks to Gonzo. "Can you help her? Look over her wound, but do not move her, and describe what you see? I can walk you through what to do to make sure she's stable to be moved to a hospital." The addition of relaxation only adds to the sea of her serenity she is lost in.
Gonzo Giustizieri can just tell it isn't going to end well at this rate, and...the body flying through the air really sells that. There's a moment of decision, and she moves to grab something from her pocket-- only to stop part-way through the action, blinking at Cassandre. "You can't...?" The rock is dropped back into her pocket, choice of action abandoned at the realization that the self-professed healer won't be able to help here. "You focus on the other one's injury, then. I can stabilize her." He shoots another glance toward Delilah Shaw, then drops to a knee next to the Windgrace. "Aha, that was a nasty punch," she tells Lilah, conversational and friendly, all calm as she looks over the injury. "Next time, it is better to be shot. More clean, I find." There's a grin, and she rolls up her sleeves as she begins to work-- and a few conspicuously bullet-shaped scars are revealed in the process. "I will tell you, this could be worse. And your glasses, they are easily repaired." She's not touching the wound, not yet, but fishes a very small vial of green liquid out of her pocket and offers it to Lilah. "First, important, are you able to swallow? This helps with the pain."
Delilah Shaw feels her gut turn the very moment a heavy sedating feeling seeps into the air from sources unknown, and she has to reckon with what she just did to Lilah in a fit of panic. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck." The surge of regret threatens to break the magic, but whatever it is manages to settle in over her mind quick enough to get her to think. "Shite, dunno where my mind went. I just-" She stammers out a bit when Cassandre insists on asking to help her first. "She.. she needs help first." Her voice is coming out stilted a bit, as her brain tries to express the sheer amount of alarm and regret and panic, the curse tries to amplify it, and whatever magic is hitting her promptly tamps it down. Bits and pieces of the negative emotion welling up manage to seep through occasionally, but it mostly leads to it sounding like she has to force herself to talk. She does, eventually, walk over and sit herself down next to Cassandre and sigh to herself, starting to take off her coat. Then, her shirt. What's revealed is.. a monstrously large trio of seemingly fresh slash-marks across the wingspan of her back. "Some.. shite in the graveyard got me. Won't heal, and I haven't had time to get it seen to." She looks over to Gonzo, then down to Lilah. "Let me know if you need any help. I won't hurt her this time."
For a moment, Lilah just sat there, seemingly in shock, possibly at the nature of her injury. It certainly would make sense as broken jagged bones poked through her flesh, her blood quickly turning her cream-coloured shirt an obscene red. Idly, her eyes drifted down to the shattered remnants of her glasses on the stone tile ground. "She broke ma glasses..." she said again, and something about that was...infuriating. Her eyes clenched closed, seemingly as the pain kicked in, but it was the sensation of rage, trying to push through her. The only thing seemingly keeping it at bay was this sense of serenity, washing over her. When her eyes opened again, they were animalistic, iris' golden rimmed in red, sclera's black. Looking at the person trying to help her, she said once again, "She /broke/ ma glasses!" As the rage fought against the serenity, her head hurt more than her shoulder, and instead of taking the offered green pain medicine, her still working arm moved up to hold her head, claws sharp and deadly on the end of her hand. "Wha...what's happenin' ta me...?!"
Jericho continues to weave his powers, carefully. So very carefully, giving little clue to those that might observe that he's doing so. Fingers tapping on the stone. Each time the curse tries to flare, Jericho twists around it, strangling piece after piece. He's not a healer, but this part he can do. And it feels glorious, the trickling of emotional feedback that's spilling into him, giving him nourishment. His skin taking on a healthy flush of warmth and color. It takes a few moments before he masters his voice, pushing down the pleasure in his voice to keep it steady "Good Evening, I see there's been an incident, is any assistance that I could give needed?" The gate gets pushed open and he's striding in as he speak, hearing the last bit, about the glasses. "Well that just won't do Alsayida...I suppose someone must fix them". There is a crouching kneel by the shattered eyewear, and he's scooping the pieces up carefully "Hmn...been a bit since I've worked on glasses, but I can probably get these fixed and back to Jericho you in a day or so" He's ignoring the more animalistic features, working on keeping up the calm, and shifting it so that it creeps towards the others, his countenance cheerful.
Cassandre Lavigne originally had only been using her serenity to calm what looked like a dangerous situation, but now that she can see fresh slashes, hears how they will not heal, how it was gotten in the graveyard, it clicks. "I will tend you first and then I will tend her, if I can." She kneels down, tugging off a glove to gently reach out for Delilah's back, near the wound but not on it. " Her still gloved hand goes into her back to pulls out glass jars of salves though these have a dropper at the top. One concoction is dark and smells strongly of a mix of medicinal herbs, ash, and something reminiscent of blood when she opens the bottle. "I'm going to put an antiseptic and painkiller on your wound and then bandage you up. I want you to keep the area dry for three days and do not remove the bandages until the third night. Do you understand and do you accept my aid?" The words are said with the same calm as the others and with the same care, but here her wording choice isn't about what is medically necessary, a play put on for any passersby rather than those here, who have displayed claws and inhuman strength. Then when Lilah's words are heard, the act is dropped and she speaks to Gonzo, though her eyes are on her work.. "Can you hold her until I've broken this one's curse? I need heal this one's wound now, I do not think the peace will last until it is closed. Or, if you can close that one's wound now, once I am done, I can cleanse the poison that clings to her soul." The deep calm doesn't allow her to consider yet that she might not be capable of handling two in such a short time, in favor of maintaining control. "You're going to be okay. You both will. We're going to tend to you and once done, it will be as if this was nothing more than a nightmare." Jericho's offer gets a nod. "If you can keep them here, steady, calm, then the situation is improved. I can only do one thing at a time."
Gonzo Giustizieri just waves Delilah's offer off, focusing on Windgrace for the time being. "Shh, shh, look at me, not anything else." She gestures from her eyes to Lilah's, trying to keep her attention. "Yes, it was cruel to break your glasses. But we will--" She looks up with surprise as Jericho joins them, and she nods at him, accepting the stranger's aid. "Grazie. This man, he will repair them, and you will be able to see with clarity again." Her eyes drift over to the claws, the yellow eyes, and...she's not sure what this is, but it's not the work of a demon. That's good. "You are in pain, you are angry because you were hurt. But listen, listen to me. The person who hurt you, she is hurting as well. Spreading the pain around, it helps nobody. You can release that anger, let it go freely from you now that you know the cause." She doesn't lose the casual and conversational tone, despite the urgency of the situation, and there's a feeling that these are words she's had to use before, rages she's had to quiet on other occasions. She tilts her head, listening to Cassandre's instructions, nods, raises her voice to answer. "This one will be fine, she is doing well. Nothing some attention will not fix." She looks back to Lilah, smiling. "Correct?" The vial is offered to the woman again, this time with a promise. "Look, after you drink this, you can throw the bottle on the ground and smash it into pieces. Perhaps even stomp on it. It will make you feel better."
Delilah Shaw shot her head up when Lilah started to show signs of slipping off into rage, and she was just perceptive enough to catch the physical shifts from where she sat. The feedback wasn't quite instant, but it set an alarm off again. Then a man walks in and introduces himself, and.. the calm seeps back in. She settles and leans forward to let Cassandre get a genuinely good look at it, sighing to herself. "Yeah, go nuts. I'll leave it be for all the time you say it should be, that said.. I tried traditional medicine." A beat passes as she watches Lilah with a clarity of focus that hadn't been there since the entire fiasco started. "I'm not exactly a nurse but they teach any poor sod in the King's army how to field-dress their own bleedin' wound in case a field doctor's nowhere to be found." Delilah leans forward onto her knees, looking out to Lilah with a sense of genuine regret. "I don't know what feckin' came over me. I.. I've always struggled with a touch o' illness in the head, but shite, nothin' this bad. I just had to get /away/."
Eyes slipping closed again, Lilah let out a sound that seemed to be a cross between a growl and a whimper. Eyes reopening, she looked between the gathered figures, and then to her wound, and back again to the blonde kneeling beside her again. "Ah shoudna need this...shoud be healin' by now," she said, and a shaking hand reached out to for the offered green elixir. As soon as she had it, she pulled her hand back quickly, shifting a few inches away. "Dinnae get any closer...Ah cannae be sure ye'd keep all yer limbs...havin' trouble...hangin' on ta ma control..." Drinking back the green liquid, she tossed the little glass vial over her shoulder, where it shattered with a soft clinking sound. Closing her eyes again, she shook her head as her head said again 'she broke yer glasses!', like someone bashing their fist against a glass window, trying to get through.
Jericho gives a slow smiling nod to Cassandra's words, he eyes uptilted with the gentle humor that seems to cling to him "Of course Alsayida. Us settling right here lets me look over these glasses, see what needs to be fixed. Unfortunately I've left my repair tools back at home. Was ou for a stroll, seeing what was where and to get my bearings after all" He's talking absently as his fingers smooth over the frames checking "Oh throwing things is always a good stress relief. Just not at other people. I tend to find when a piece of jewelry is being particularly difficult, that I'll take a break and toss some paint. Oddly refreshing, just making a bit of a mess" His voice as he speaks is smooth and melodic, calmness emanating from him. He's very much a still and steady stone in the middle or a turbulent sea, and he's twining that emotion around his voice. "The lens I can probably replicate, and the frames are twisted a bit, but they are easy enough to repair if you've the right tools for it"
Cassandre Lavigne nods as she goes to apply the salve, then the bandages once the verbal acceptance is given, the woman bound by something deeper than a mere habit. With her own regenerative blood mixed into it and paired with healing magic poured into it, the salve is meant to cure mundane lacerations impossibly fast and even aggravated wounds within the hour. " You mentioned something attacked you in the graveyard and the undead have been restless as of late, I believe you have an infection that goes deeper than simple flesh. Last time I was in this park, I and others were attacked by them as well. I came back to see if things had calmed...It seems there is only a new madness instead." She does not look back over to Gonzo, trusting that she has the situation under control as she hears the casual tone Jericho's calming tone only adds to her belief the situation is handled.
Gonzo Giustizieri nods encouragingly at Lilah, arranging her face into an expression of mild concern as Windgrace voices discontent. "The body, it does not always respond how we would like in situations like these. It is not a personal failing," she soothes, and only takes a single step back when Lilah pulls away, wanting to keep a close eye on this. "It looks to me like you are doing very well. Masterful control, yes?" Jericho's easy manner and calm explanations are greeted with more nodding, and she adds on her own explanations at the end as she reaches to look at the injury. "Your skin, your muscles, they will be looking for the easiest way to become whole again." A second vial is retrieved, this time a pale blue. "You can smash this one as well. It will aid the cells in locating the most simple path for their recovery, speed them along ever so slightly. Old family recipe."
Delilah Shaw tensed herself up when she saw Lilah /quickly/ lose herself to rage. "Hey uh.." She nods over to Gonzo, starting to lean forward for her discarded clothes. "I think the two of you may wanna run." She waits out through Cassandre tending to her wound, then starts to stand up and dress herself. Shirt first, then coat. "Thank you. Sorry for being an' arse about it." She looks down briefly to Cassandre with a slight nod, then back to Gonzo, Jericho, and Lilah. If you can, do what you can for her wound /quick/, then move." She's already feeling.. better. Clearer, as the salve starts to work at the deeply unnatural wound on her back. She doesn't seem to quite share Cassandre's confidence in the situation, though, because she's visibly squaring up for a fight. "Lilah.. you wanna beat the shit out of anyone for feckin' up your glasses, I'm right over here. Let the rest of 'em walk."
Lilah squeezed her eyes closed as she felt the window crack. The breach was quickly covered over with a newspaper of serene feelings trying to keep her calm...but the crack remained, soon followed by another. Hearing Delilah speak, she let out a bitter laugh, "Ah...Ah dinnae want ta...beat the shite ootta anyone...but ma body...is fightin' with itself..." Her voice was coming out, deeper, rougher, and her head dropped as the muscles running down her back made a loud popping sound. She kicked her shoes off as another set of sharp claws. And then she bared a set of sharp teeth, letting out a gasp of pain as her skeleton started trying to rearrange itself, even as her left shoulder remained shattered and jagged. "Whatever...yer gonna dae...dae it fast..." she snarled.
Jericho can feel the ire ramp up in the woman besides him, and he considers for a moment what to do. There is a tilt of his head to look at her, finally acknowledging, even if just visually, the bestial traits that are showing "Ah...I was truly hoping to not have to do any of this" He says, with that same almost cheerful note and smile on his lips. Those precious glasses are tucked into his pocket and he moves to kneel besides Delilah, his hard gaze looking down as she bares her teeth "Apologies Alsayida...we truly do not want everything to go haywire on us I don't believe" One hand slips out to cup her cheek in one callused palm. There is an unusual coolness to his flesh, before it grows even colder. The temperature around them does not alter, but the veins that trail through that one hand grow darker. There is a sensation of stealing, pulling out, numbing that comes from that touch. It's not a balm placed over an open wound...it's a complete incision, an icy cauterization as he starts to strip at the rage. "Healers, you might wish to work swiftly, as my aid is vastly shifted here" The feeling of calm he had been keeping up..slowly fading.
Cassandre Lavigne with the healing done, there's a flickering in her calm, a hint of exhaustion rising up to cut through it. "Be careful. I am wondering if this infection can spread through touch. I assumed it was a taint caused by the direct attack, but that may not be the case. I do not think I can hold back this for much longer." A wave of dizziness washes over her and the serenity she'd been holding wavers again. She takes in another deep breath and stands, walking slowly over as if afraid to fall and hoping that the stranger she'd called an eyesore, and now relies on, can handle the physical healing that she cannot in this state.
Gonzo Giustizieri gives Delilah a somewhat put-out look. Does she think-- "Whoa, whoa," she starts, staring at the metamorphosis taking place, the teeth, the claws, the shifting musculoskeletal structure. It's almost enough to make her forget what she's here for. "Are you free th-- ah!" Jericho steps between them, and she shakes her head, refocusing. A strip of fabric is torn from her shirt, and the contents of the blue vial are dumped onto it. Then, she squeezes between Jericho and Lilah, shoves the wet fabric into the open wound and skitters away, first on all fours, then catapulting herself onto her feet. "Topical is good too, you know! It will help!" she calls out as she skedaddles. Cassandre is given a slap on the back as she passes by the taller woman-- hold up, she's all wobbly. "Lady, I have to go. Look, the healing, it is far from perfect, but in a few days, it is good as new. Trust me! Come find me if you have problems!" And with that...she hurls herself back over the fence and sprints away.
Delilah Shaw took one last heavy breath in, then released it... and with it, her lungs stopped moving. "You don't, but somethin' does love. Rightfully so." Fingers start to one-handedly crack at the joints on her fingers, and she takes a cautious step forwards in the direction of Gonzo's blindingly colorful form kneeling on the ground next to the other Delilah. "I've got the strength in me tae take the pounding, keep you from hurtin' anyone else. Figure I owe you that much." There's a solemness to how she says it all. A matter-of-factness that seems to expect that the change Lilah is undergoing is /going/ to happen. Once that control is gone it'll be gone. So she makes ready, and waits. Jericho's movement gets a distinct eye of suspicion to it, and she watches his hand closely as the veins on it blacken and stand out. Gonzo rapidly follows up on the treatment, then even more rapidly gets the hell out of the way. She looks behind her to Cassandre for a moment, then back. "Hey. If you can walk, get going. Home, another park, a bar. Just get the feck away from here, you've done more than enough." She rolls her sleeves up there and makes ready, just in case the combined work of Jericho and Gonzo doesn't do the trick.
As the hand lay itself on her cheek, as that icy sensation cut into her, Lilah's eyes shot open, jaw dropping in a silent 'O' shape. In shock? In silent agony? Lilah herself felt unsure of how to answer that question. Whatever it was doing, however, it held the beast at bay, like a dog smacked on the snout by a cosmic newspaper. Her shift stopped in it's tracks, like she couldn't quite move forward, or back, but rather just remained in a holding pattern. She was aware of the figures around her, the blonde woman wrapping her wound. "Wha...what are ye...?" she finally got out, her eyes on the man before her.
Jericho is very gentle in his holding of the woman's face. There is no grabbing or digging his fingers in, just a subtle cupping of sharp bones. As she looks absolutely flabbergasted however, Jericho gives her another faint smile "Alsayida, it would be a shame to see you forced to out yourself to strangers because of some anger and pain. I'm sure you are perfectly lovely in that other self, but currently I'd be very grateful to have you stay in this guise. So you can heal up and possibly get some rest" He states, shifting his body so that Gonzo can get in and d the wrappings of the wounds "I think the Healer is going to check you out, as she did the other Alsayida on the bench. And than you may rest. Yes, I think that would be for the best yes?"
Cassandre Lavigne, with Gonzo's healing applied and the anger cut, the burden on her is lessened and finally she can dig into the infection of the soul to pry it out, trying to free Lilah of the mental manipulations of the curse. She struggles to remain upright, however, sinking to the ground and her eyes closing as she works. Even she's uncertain if she's managed to root it all out before her consciousness begins to face and she opens her eyes again, trying to blink away the feeling before the serenity snaps entirely, her hands going to the ground to stop herself from falling. "I-" Whatever she'd been about to say is cut off as she collapses.
Delilah Shaw lets out a sigh she'd been trapping up in dead lungs for minutes when whatever the two of them did seems to pay off, and she steps in closer, kneeling down to Lilah's level. "Hell of a bloody way to meet my Scottish duplicate, I got tae say. You're fine now. Well. Fine-ish. We need to get you to an actual medical professional, not some jumpy, chatty street doctor that cut half a circus tent off the assembly and decided to wear it." A hand is held out to Harper-Windgrace, and she nods. "If you can forgive me for losin' my mind and breaking your arm.. and your glasses, I'll walk you over." She looks up a bit to Cassandre. "If you got one more in you, that'd be right appreci-" Aaaaand.. they're out like a light past bedtime. She looks over to Jericho, now. "Do me a favor, stick round with this one so I can take the other." With that, she'd reach out for Lilah's hand. "C'mon you."
Lilah just remained there, eyes on the strange man, and all she could do was nod in agreement. About not shifting in public? About letting the healer check her over, any and all of the above. And slowly, her body finally started to respond as well, the interrupted transformation reversing itself as she shrunk back down to size, her animalistic traits disappearing as if they never were. And finally, the dark suited healer did...something...likely something her siblings would understand far better than she would. Turning her attention up to the other Delilah, she grabbed onto the woman's forearm as she helped her to her feet and let out a sigh. "Well...shite...next time, Ah think we shoud just share that drink and ferget knockin' one another aboot, yeh?" With the rage sensation soothed and the balm applied, she tried to move her left arm...and it didn't work, but the bones were already looking less pointy. "Nae, nae professionals needed. Ah just need ta get home...it's no' far...yer all welcome." She nodded towards the unconscious healer, "Give her a place ta rest 'til we can figger out where she lives." And with that, she rested her working hand on Delilah's shoulder, and would lead them off towards Windgrace manor.
Jericho would keep his touch still for a moment longer, before he pulls back. That icy almost numbness would remain for a bit, but it would wear off, letting her feel the emotions again "There you go Alsayida, I'll find you in a few days to return your glasses to you" He says to her before turning just in time to see Cassandre crumple. A low chuckle and a shake of the head ensue, followed by the man moving to scoop the woman, who is almost as tall as he, into his arm "Of course Alsayida, I live nearby and will take her there so she may recover some energy and rest in a safe spot. My housemates are unusual, but the type that is good for the soul" There is a bow to them all and a last smile before he heads out.
