Quote Originally Posted by Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki View Post
She had been attempting to ignore Ochazuke's ruckus while the Acorian and that halfbreed idiot's paramour attended to him, but it seemed their efforts weren't entirely sufficient. Well, no matter... perhaps assisting would keep her mind focused on more pertinent matters.

Approaching the three, Nevanlinna focused her hearing and simply listened for a short while. Ochazuke's breathing seemed a bit... strained, labored, which helped confirm, inasmuch as it could be, what the man was trying to indicate. Namely, that there was some sort of lung injury. A simple matter to remedy.

"Allow me," said Nevanlinna. Kneeling down, she lightly placed her hands over, roughly, where the lung injury should be. Focusing, healing energies began flowing from her hands and into the martial artist, concentrated in the area of the injury. Normally, the healing process would be quite painful as everything popped back into its proper place, but, unbeknownst to Nevanlinna, Aleka's efforts had already pre-emptively mitigated at least part of that issue.

"This lot certainly finds itself in a state of disrepair after nearly every battle," she muttered, somewhat in jest. A small grin spread across her face "Perhaps I should start charging for my services?"
With Nevanlinna's effort, Ochazuke slowly began to feel a measure of relief as at last his torso fell with a deep exhale. In conjunction with Karine's increase of ki flow through the shadow needles, the injuries soon ameliorated themselves. Eyes half-shut, dark pools glazed over, he soon settled where he lay.

Suddenly, his hand pushed from the inside, seizing Nevanlinna's forearm sharply. Even reduced to this state of helplessness, countless hours of training manifest; morewover, perhaps Aleka's soothing foundation on top of this caused him feel as if he had some momentary reserve of strength within his previously shattered flesh.

He applied a short twist, enough to mechanically, painlessly, crumple the bend of her elbow and drew her near. His voice was hoarse, faded for he only had just recovered his breath, and the grip of that previously shattered wrist weak. But the single word was spoken with a particular harshness.

"Auroc."

The name of the Threshling god passed from his lips, and soon Ochazuke faded into unconsciousness.

There would be little gained from this revivification of all too mortal flesh. No increased fortification or adaptive swell of power for their efforts. After all, the course for the people of the Earth was a fragile path rendered of scars and memories.