[when Azem has left, then Emily can do the one thing she would prefer no one walk in on. the last piece of soiled clothing she has to remove is his eyepatch, exposing the ruin there, and she's as gentle as if he was awake to wipe away any mud or water. it is something he hides away from all, but she knows she'll be forgiven in this moment for bearing witness.
he's still so cold, and she can't linger, but she does bend her head and kiss the scars, an impulse she doesn't want to deny before concealing it all under a medical patch. when that's done, she breathes in, and shifts his blankets so she can put her hands on him - over the heart, and cartoid artery. focus, and draw up her own reserves of energy.
what Azem will see when she returns might explain why Emily isn't verbally replying. her hands are alight with a soft glow, her eyes have a slight green shine, and though no window is cracked, it feels as though a breeze passes through the room - like late springtime, stirring and clearing the air.
Emily's lost in a deep concentration, trying to put this to right. she can't waywardly throw her energy into him - Hibiki warned that it was like pouring a cup of wine into a dry well - but if she focuses on restoration, then there's a chance. his blood needs to warm, to carry heat across his body, to cycle it through carefully enough that he won't go into shock. keep the core protected, and the rest will come. she can afford no distractions, for this close, to her, it is almost as if she can feel their heartbeats synchronized.
steady. steady. pulling someone up from the depths, and slowly rising with them.
there is a kettle, though, in the tiny excuse for a breakroom they have.]
no subject
he's still so cold, and she can't linger, but she does bend her head and kiss the scars, an impulse she doesn't want to deny before concealing it all under a medical patch. when that's done, she breathes in, and shifts his blankets so she can put her hands on him - over the heart, and cartoid artery. focus, and draw up her own reserves of energy.
what Azem will see when she returns might explain why Emily isn't verbally replying. her hands are alight with a soft glow, her eyes have a slight green shine, and though no window is cracked, it feels as though a breeze passes through the room - like late springtime, stirring and clearing the air.
Emily's lost in a deep concentration, trying to put this to right. she can't waywardly throw her energy into him - Hibiki warned that it was like pouring a cup of wine into a dry well - but if she focuses on restoration, then there's a chance. his blood needs to warm, to carry heat across his body, to cycle it through carefully enough that he won't go into shock. keep the core protected, and the rest will come. she can afford no distractions, for this close, to her, it is almost as if she can feel their heartbeats synchronized.
steady. steady. pulling someone up from the depths, and slowly rising with them.
there is a kettle, though, in the tiny excuse for a breakroom they have.]