Fever Dreams (invite)

    Her conversation with Azoth done, Misty descended the tower in the same manner that she had ascended it. Once she had reached the ground, she looked at the scene around her. Cats, living and dead, where almost everywhere, searching for something, but for what, Misty did not know. Off the the distance, in several directions, Misty could see groups of battered supers gathering.

    She could now do what she did best with the dragon reduced to a smoldering ball. Heal. She was caught up in her thoughts as she walked towards the supers that had fallen from the dragon in its dying shakes that would probably need the most healing, that she tripped over something.

    Misty cursed under her breath and stood, brushing off her knees. They had skinned, but they healed almost immediately. Then she felt bad. She had tripped over a very bloody, broken looking man that was half buried in rubble. Well, she thought to herself, grunting as she picked up a piece of rubble. He was as good a place to start as any.

The world was dark and dry, clawing at Canay's throat with talons of dust as she let out a muffled groan. Her head felt like it was a bruised peach ready to burst, her stomach a mass of knots that kept undoing themselves just that they could form more intricate complications. Somewhere, she could sense pain, but her left leg felt numb and she couldn't turn to see it properly. Moving in general seemed to take more effort than it should have, sitting up impossible.

She couldn't get up. The thought tore Canary from her mental haze, forcing her to the reality that was debris and rocks around her. Coughing, she tried to roll onto her side and found she couldn't. She lifted her arms, grateful for the motion, but it was confined to a small space.

'Breathe.' Good. Focus on that. Don't focus on...

Someone had died, if you could call it that. It wasn't some accident. Someone had been bitten in half by the massive sky-whale-thing, devoured in two bites like some horror movie. She hadn't had the clearest view, scattered and broken by the rock slide, but there was no mistaking what had happened. Bile surged in her throat as visions of the body, whoever it had been, being chomped on. She turned her head, fought the urge to retch and failed. Where was she, even?

Pushing against whatever was weighing down on her came to mind, provided it wouldn't just bring the rest of whatever down on her. She had to do something, though. The entire street was too silent, too eerie, as if the air pocket had sealed her off from the rest of the world. Her efforts brought her nothing at first, but after time, she managed to push a smaller section of rock away, one falling after the other as the support gave out from below.

A fallen beam had saved her. She could see cuts and scrapes, and there was a large gash on her left leg that looked like it would probably need stitches. It was difficult to tell with the angle and her cracked goggles.  Coughing as the falling rocks filled her lungs with even more dust and debris, Canary closed her eyes, fingers curling into her palms as her body shook with the force of each breath.

'Get up.' She had to move, had to get out of there. There were people that needed her – her family needed her. Her eyes squeezed shut as the sound of the cannons firing filled her eyes, the flash of light as the docks and slums took a direct hit. Would home even be standing? What about her family?

'No.' It was the slums; no one was going to think they were worth finding, not publicly. They weren't high on the list of search and rescue, that was for sure. The names would be added to others for people to hopefully be found, alive or otherwise.

Another small surge of rocks, these larger than before, tumbled down around her, and Canary barely had time to cover her head with her arms, flinching and trying to draw away from the danger. The motion jarred her injured leg, invoking another cry of pain. What was wrong with it? Broken? She couldn't tell.

'Move.' She tried to slide out by pulling herself along with her arms, breathing a painful reminder of her mortality as she realized she needed to stop and catch her breath to go forward. She peered out through the opening, trying to make it bigger, to find escape and maybe get an idea of where she had wound up. The pier? Downtown? Everything was covered in a film of grit and grime, and it felt like her lungs were, too. Each breath caught in her throat; it felt like it was burning.

She had to hurry.

The stopped moving at the sound of a voice, somewhat familiar but distant. Canary wasn't sure what she had expected, certainly not to be found so quickly, but it seemed luck was on her side once again tonight. She pushed harder against the rocks as the sound of scraping could be heard, sprinkled with bits of sound, and clearer air.

“Thanks,” she managed weakly, not able to see who it was that was helping her yet. She felt hands wrap around her arm as it broke through, closing her eyes against the instinct of more danger greeting her face. The more her rescuer pulled, however, the more Canary felt herself able to move. The crushing, oppressive feeling faded. Physically, anyway. She pulled one leg out and twisted, biting back on a cry of pain as the other wouldn't follow. She couldn't feel much around the area of the wound, but further along the leg was the sensation of wet fabric from her suit. Trying to pull it forward only resulted in more pain. She forced herself to take a deep breath, though it came out low and shaky.

“It's over?” Of course it was. They wouldn't be here if it wasn't. Her vision swam as she looked at the girl who had pulled her free, frowning both in concern at the break in her senses and disliking the way the world felt like it was still having its gravity tossed in a blender. At least it was familiar face. Another super, and one who had saved her.

Immediately, Canary tried to pull away and rise up, stubbornness winning for half a second before realizing the extent of her mistake. Her left leg refused to move. Unresponsive. Broken.

    Misty set to work unearthing the rest of him. His clothes were in tatters, his clothes failing at their job. Misty grunted as she moved a particularly heavy piece off of him. Dusting carefully around his head, allowing it to rest above the rubble. His face was bloody and broken, part of it badly burned. A piece of his hood and his golden hair were stuck to his face by his blood, muddied by the dust from the rubble. He looked like he was in terrible shape. Misty touched his cheek lightly, and assessed the damage. It was tremendous. Never before had Misty encountered anything of this nature, and never had she encountered someone that was so badly injured…..and still alive.

    This was going to take a lot. Misty reached over and wiped the bloody mud away from his nose, hoping to hear him breathing. She was rewarded, though his breathing was dangerously soft and shallow. This renewed her efforts to unbury him with a passionate fury. Soon he was completely unearthed. In earnesty, Misty had no idea how long it would take to fix someone that was so badly injured. So she set to work, a ways away from him, where the tumble of rubble was much more stable and created a lean-to. It was long and narrow, just large enough to keep him out of the sun and any weather that might occur off him, and allow her to sit next to him.

Misty cursed having to move him, but it needed to be done. She was thankful for her second underlying hood as she removed her cloak. It was a bit burned, but it would have to do. Then , with some struggle, she dragged him on to her cloak and over to the lean-to that she had built as gently as she could manage. He was making strange, almost gurgling noises. She Could see his rapid eye movement and knew that at least, his mind was still intact enough to dream.

    Then Misty went over him more carefully. She carefully peeled a piece of hood from his face, removed what was left of his shirt, merely a few shreds of cloth. Then she peeled the fabric out of a wound a piece of metal in the rubble had left in his left arm, a nasty blunt force puncture. She placed her hand on his cheek again and let her gift stretch through him, so it could tell her what was wrong. He was so broken. The top of his head had been all but crushed, the crown of his skull reduced to tiny pieces in places. His right eye socket had cracked, but the eye had remained whole, thankfully. His left arm had the puncture in it around the bicep tricep area and his left elbow was shattered. His ribs were broken, strangely, like his back had slammed against something hard. All of his internal organs were bruised and there was a lot of internal bleeding. All the fingers in his right hand had been shattered and lay in strange positions that were very very unnatural. His pelvis had cracked at the pubic symphysis. His right knee was broken and he left foot crushed. He was in shock, and running a major fever. And on top of all that, it seemed to Misty as though he had began to…….rot almost…..while he was still alive. His body was in deep shock, and Misty knew a fever was rising.

    She truly had her work cut out for her. She bent to her task, and was very pleased top find that his body was struggling to heal itself, it lacked the energy to do so, but not the means. Pleased, she healed first his very mushed brain, pulling the skull fragments up out of the tissue and healing the top of his skull back together just enough to hold the bone in place. Once his brain was set, she made sure that all the areas that were bleeding clotted over, forming fresh scabs, so that he didn’t lose any more blood.

His airways were the most destroyed by this strange rotting effect, and it took all of her focus to work on fixing it. She placed her other hand on the other side of his face and brought her head down to rest between her elbows. Misty closed her eyes and focused completely on the task of healing his badly damaged airways, the next piece needed to ensure that he lived.

The more the rocks fell, the more Canary found herself alternating between coughing and holding her breath to prevent inhaling more dust; both options burned her lungs, though one was only slightly better for her in the end.

Hearing the words Limen spoke was a second breath of fresh air, almost as sweet as the first after the rocks had fallen. She closed her eyes and nodded slightly as she acknowledgment to her question. The world continued to spin, hand gripping onto the other girl's arm as she waited for it to pass. Whether it was due to a concussion or merely relief didn't matter.

Broken. Even if it was set, how was she going to get home on a busted leg? Not that it mattered; somehow, Canary would. There were others who might need her. Others who were less fortunate. But at least the sky whale was dead. It couldn't damage the city any more. The scars would begin to form, creating new patterns and inviting old memories to return.

But that was going to pass without her if all she did was stand around. She glanced over at Limen as she offered to carry her. Even the offer made her feel more tired, reminded her of the aches that had made themselves at home and dug into every bone in her body, but she shook her head to decline the offer. Thankfully, they were of a same height, so it wouldn't lead to one of them leaning or being partially lifted anyway.

She shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't. Accepting the healer's help would mean accepting a super's, and though that wouldn't cause her any more physical harm than she'd likely already endured today, it galled her. But if it meant getting back to her usual self, to be able to walk properly and continue on that much sooner, could she really turn it down? She'd be useless without some form of help, regardless. The hospitals in the city would likely be flooded, soon if not already. Canary wouldn't feel right walking in through those doors, either.

'Pull it together, bird brain..'

“Alright.” Nodding, Canary shifted on her good leg to accept Limen's shoulder, grateful that she was able to balance as well as she could on the one leg and her human crutch. She offered the other super a small, weary smile. “Let's go see if they've got the energy for one more patient.”

    Even though his body was in shatters, it was struggling to do its best to heal itself. The effort seemed pitiful compared to Misty’s own self healing, but then again, not everyone was the same. And not everyone had her ability. Still, it helped. Misty reached down with one hand, keeping the other on his face, wanting the contact for this healing, and took the pouch from her waist. It was the one she had hurriedly dumped jewelry into before she had left on the crazy chase that had been her night. Without looking, she unzipped it and took a piece of jewelry from it. Still allowing one hand to work with healing him, armed with the quartz stone set into this particular piece of jewelry the other hand began to feed his body raw energy.

    Misty forced the energy stored in the stone into his body, giving him a supercharge of it. She tossed the necklace away, and moments after it landed, it violently shattered. Most stones did when she took all the energy that she had stored in them out. The new energy buzzed forward to meet her healing and she returned the stray hand to his face, hell bent on fixing as much of his airway as she could. By now, the insides of his nose and throat had stopped pouring out blood, and she had cleared the blood from his lungs. They were badly damaged. And even with her ability, she knew that his body could not handle such a drastic healing of his lung sin one shot. But her efforts were being rewarded. His soft shallow breathing was stronger now, deeper and not so choked.

    “You are not allowed to die on my watch.” She told the man. Looking down at him, something bugged her in the back of her mind about him, but she pushed it away in favor of focus for her task.

Grateful for the shoulder to lean on, Canary tried to make their passing through the street as quick as possible, much as Limen was working towards making it smoother for the injured woman. She figured the other girl had other places to be, maybe people to look for, and instead she was here helping someone else. The least she could do was ensure that Limen could move on quickly and, if this healer was as good as believed, Canary could do the same.

It seemed they would have to wait, however, as a body became exposed. Her eyes went from the figure in the black hood to the body uncovered from the rubble, and the sight made her stumble and have to grab on more tightly to Limen to keep herself upright. The light reflecting off of blonde hair, the face that was marred with blood and dirt, the same she'd met at a park, raced against, had seen fighting a dragon with a bow before just diving in...

“Al--” She catches herself as Limen calls out another name, one Canary's not heard before. She forces herself to keep going, her steps wider and more hurried without even catching Limen's worried look. Her own is a mask of horror and worry as they continue on, but once in sight of rubble or something that looks fairly stable for her to use as support, she shakes her head and starts to let go of the other girl. She's near enough to see, but she's only going to make things worse by getting in the way of those who are able to move freely and clear away the rubble. Not even any of her devices would be of use in that regard. What would she do, contain rocks and drag them away on a bad leg? Blow the rubble up or away?

“Go,” she murmurs, though it seemed her companion was determined to help her get there with them. Part of her felt relief that she wouldn't have to be sitting on the sidelines and trying to get a look at what was happening, but considering the sight before her, that may not have been good, either.

No, it was better to see and know.. It looked like there was a slab of wall she could position herself against, maybe even sit on. It would have to do.

“Is he...he's alive, right?” Her voice wavered as she looked at the healer. She had no idea who they were or what they would want, but at this time, there wasn't much she could do without making things worse.

    Some small part of her mind noticed the approaching pair, but she made no move of recognition until the girl plopped down on the ground and pulled out a somewhat impressive medical kit. She focused hard, doing the best that she could to repair the tiny, delicate alveoli. His lungs were so damaged that in order to fix his alveoli, that she had to rebuild a great many of his bronchial. It took so much focus, they were such tiny components. Without anything moving but her mouth,

    “You’d do better to turn that to yourself and your companion miss…….”