[center][color=917655][h1]Estal Webb[/h1][/color][/center]

[color=#FA271E]"Woah missy, I'd rather [i]not[/i] be touched, I have notouchytouch-phobia, a real thing I assure you, my doctors told me about it."[/color]

[i]Arsehole[/i]. This one had balls, she’d give him that. He should be counting his lucky stars that she couldn’t manipulate fire, or she’d roast the sarcastic prick. Sometimes she wished that her powers were a little more... offensive. Because really, if she could get close enough to someone to be able to touch them, then she might as well stab them instead.

Her attention was brought back to her comrades, the spew of profanities that followed her question was more then enough insight that indeed, someone had been hurt.

[color=red]"I've been better."[/color]

The smell of blood flooded her senses, that thick, metallic scent - she knew it all too well. Estal stared at Wednesday, whose arm was firmly gripping her wound with her body arched over. Her instincts told her to just grab the woman and transfer the wound, to heal it right there and then. She’d done it so many times before, it was almost second-nature to her. 

But yet, she didn’t. 

Her limbs started to tremble, her eyes panic-stricken as she just stood there, frozen. Her attention focused solely on the woman’s shoulder. 

She could feel herself loosing it. 

Let’s just say she’d been having some [i]difficulties[/i] concerning her life absorption abilities. Frankly, they were a little out of control. It was to be expected after the emotionally intensive time being captured and shipped to some random island brought to someone. Her confidence of whether touching Wednesday would heal her, or kill her, was vastly dwindling. 

[color=917655]“I, er, em... I, erm-”[/color] She stuttered, her words becoming little more then complete garble. Telling them of her healing abilities was the only thing she could think of, and even that she was unable to do. It was safe to say she didn’t react well to stressful situations, especially those that involved people. She’d lived a pretty sheltered life, up until recently, the introvert of the introverted being a fitting title. Or simply put, a socially inept mess. It was pathetic. [i]She[/i] was pathetic.

Suddenly, Estal reached out her hands, ready to grasp Wednesday's shoulder in a fury of, slightly violent, frustration. She was but a mere few inches away before stopping abruptly, cut off by the harsh glow that emanated from the woman’s arm. And not just glow; heat. 

[i]Hell no[/i]. She retreated immediately. Her prior curiosity had been thoroughly abandoned, along with any notion of healing. Finding out Wednesday’s powers by getting her hands torched off was not what she had in mind. There was absolutely no chance. Perhaps later, was probably wiser.

Instead, she averted her attention towards the newcomer, their ‘attacker’, who of course, pleaded his friendliness. Believable. She shot a glance towards Rico, out of all of them, she probably trusted him the most, however odd he may be. She gave the man, who had just appeared into eye-shot, the dirtiest glare she could muster. 

[color=917655]“Just give me a reason.”[/color]

[@LazyEgg], [@JunkMail], [@Inertia]