HereComesTheSnow

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

So who plans on visiting Robert as he spends the next month in Beacon's infirmary?

@Guess Who

priscilla

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

@Silvan Haven@Crimmy@Write

You know, after having an eye the size of my entire head glare up at me with pure, animalistic intent to kill, Gratia's base level of... Gratia didn't seem too bad, in retrospect. I met her gaze evenly, much more so than I could before.

I'd stabbed scarier eyes than those of a mild Gratia.

...Talk about a strange statement.

So they were making visitations too, huh?

Though, I was fairly certain they'd be more here purely for reasons borne of goodwill, as opposed to me. Even if I was doing it because I thought I could accelerate the healing process, I had to admit to myself that going to a hospital and asking to see people only to try and experiment upon them was pretty selfish. In contrast, despite her rough exterior, I didn't think there was an ulterior motive behind being here for Gratia, and if it was Beryl, I didn't think there even could be one.

I mean, I could see her being dragged along by Gratia if it was me they were visiting, to take notes on how my hair did whatever she saw it do when I was injured or somesuch, but that aside.

Beryl was a nice girl.

"Yeah," I responded with a bit of a sigh. "I wanted to check up on someone we brought back, but she can't take any visitors right now."

Especially not ones attempting to perform an impromptu transfusion.

"Hi, Luke."

My felt my eyebrows rise as my curiosity piqued, reacting to a soft, new voice that carried a light hint of an accent, one that was reminiscent, but fainter and somehow more refined than Gratia's.

"I heard your mission was rather difficult. Hopefully everyone made it out okay?"

...It felt like we had just finished debriefing, and already word had reached people outside of our— I should say, of my social circle.

Wow.

I peered around the two transfer students inquisitively, managing to snake my head around two taller girls to a point where I could see her.

She was a girl.

Well, obviously.

A girl, garbed in a standard hospital gown. Her white hair was a tad ruffled, presumably due to being cooped up in here, and her blue eyes were ringed by lines I knew all too well from the mirror.

Tired. That was the story her eyes told, the language of her thin, borderline gaunt body told. Even her face, which was undeniably elegant and beautiful...

All I saw was "tired".

"Uh, yeah... those of us that went in made it out fine, but..."

Something shifted behind her, drawing my attention.

And then, my focus.

I had thought them a cushion, maybe a blanket at first, but now I saw what was behind her for what they truly were—

Wings.

Patchy, worn, damaged wings that had no business being in the air. Torn primaries dangled, useless, and either barely managed or failed entirely to cover the pink, scarred tissue underneath.

I quickly realized why she was here.

"You're..."

Wings.

Mistralese.

Suddenly here, connected to Gratia and Beryl, and unfamiliar.

My eyes widened a fraction as I put it all together.

"Bianca, right?" I said it venturingly, despite being mostly sure.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

You know what I'll just let everyone remember on their own

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

what about bianca

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

>unoriginal
>coming from an old bit stealer and link thief

you guys ever hear the one about stones and glass houses

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

this shit was my bit ages ago bide boy

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

I didn't do much talking on the airship ride back. Whether it was the grueling mission finally being a weight off of my shoulders or an understanding that my words would probably be drowned out by the wind and hype seated next to me, I ended up keeping my mouth shut in a thoughtful line.

Well, I assume that's what it looked like, anyway. I was doing a lot of thinking.

Reflection.

The mission was hard, by no stretch would anyone assume otherwise, even without taking into consideration the fact that it was our second in total. Our performance in surviving alone, you could argue deserved a pat on the back, and succeeding as massively as we did at the end hadn't quite sunk in yet as the extraordinary feat it was.

The road there, though was another story, and what I couldn't help but focus upon.

It was terrible. Fraught with inaction, miscommunication, fear, pressure, and plain inexperience. I couldn't speak for anyone else, but when I looked back upon it, as objectively as I could, I saw the near-miss of trainwreck. Between our split priorities, lack of cohesion and painful, slow deliberations, it was almost crazy how we managed to turn things around at the end.

It was... strange, honestly. That was what I felt, that was my strongest impression, especially when I focused in upon my specific role in it all.

I was the one calling to slow down all the time, right? I was the one always preaching that we needed to attack every problem that came our way with logical thought and a concrete, peer-reviewed plan.

It was like I had forgotten the rule my own sister had drilled into me: Conscious thought is slow. To slow to rely on when you're in the moment.

And wouldn't you know it: all of a sudden, when I had started to go with the flow, we seemed to start getting much more accomplished. We jumpstarted the elevator, evacuated the survivors, took down the manticore and even made a small fortune on the side, in the time that it would have taken for me to simply transport our injured at my pace.

...If we had taken my pace, Priscilla very well might have not made it.

I had been forced to do things quickly, and we had come out better for it.

My eyes drifted down to my hand, searching for a cut that had long disappeared.

That was perhaps the strangest thing. As the action faded into a blur the further from the moment I became, that was one thing that stuck with me.

Not that the cut was gone, but that there was one formerly on Priscilla’s body, equally as gone. By now I was almost certain of it. I had seen it one moment, and it had disappeared the next, before I could wrap it up.

But why? It wasn't as if her Semblance was a mirror of mine, it was closer to Cian’s, if anything. It's not like she was healing herself like I could.

Like me. That was the train of thought I kept coming back to. For a wound to disappear like that in the space of barely a couple of seconds was like me. It was how my own semblance worked.

I could sense it at the tip of my mind’s tongue. This was my lead, this was the track that I wanted to follow.

For her body to react like my own, while I was trying to patch her up…

I narrowed my eyes even as the refinery faded into the mists of the swamp beneath us. It had to be connected somehow. What I was doing played a role. That was the only way I could make any sense of it.

Somehow my self-regeneration had been transferred over to her in a small part. Only enough to be burnt out on a long scratch.

But it had been done.

I stared at that hand for a long while.

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Despite being one of her new teammates, it appeared that I was not allowed to visit Priscilla for a while in the earlier stages of her treatment and recovery. I could understand the call being made, and would of course respect it, but nonetheless it left me wanting.

I was fairly sure that I had pieced together, over the ride and the subsequent medical checks, debriefing, and trek home, what had transpired in that moment. Why I had managed to impart some of my own healing ability upon that wound of hers.

But I wouldn’t get the occasion to test it yet. Not on her, at any rate. The nurses had calmly turned me away with nothing more than a simple “she needs rest” when I had decided to revisit the infirmary.

Well, I did come with the stated intention of asking how she was doing, so I supposed it would figure that would be the answer I’d get. And asking to barge in and try something as outlandish as what I had come up with on a girl in her condition was also just a touch on the “sounds completely mental” side of the spectrum.

So I paced the hall, not wanting to leave but not having anywhere to go. It was honestly kind of similar to how I would sometimes aimlessly wander after class had gotten out in my high school days.

Only, I’d say, with a little more purpose.

My arm, still bare thanks to my lack of replacing a hoodie before coming here, bumped against someone else’s. I needed to watch where I was going whenever I got like this, always had.

“Sorry, Gratia.”

The words left my mouth on automatic, and--

“Wait— Gratia? Beryl? What are you two doing here?”

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

@Plank Sinatra

What if Lauren was a full-on boxer?

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@NarayanK

you've triggered me twice in one picture

I commend you

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

HE'S BAAAAAAAACK

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

tired boys