12051/Shadowcrest is weird, but fun!

Shadowcrest is weird, but fun!
Date of Scene:	18 July 2022
Location:	Shadowcrest Manor - Bristol Township
Synopsis:	I did it! I healed someone! Then I passed the heck out!
Cast of Characters:	Zatanna Zatara, Achilles

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Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Of late, Zatanna needs the protected forest around Shadowcrest. There are moments when she feels the need goes both ways. The magician questions herself on that, wondering if she is placing too much importance on her role in its continued existence.

What she does know is that its heart vibrates with power, the air sings with it and the xylem of the trees drink it and exude it through their leaves. Or so it seems to Zatanna.

When she teaches someone discovering their powers, she chooses the forest's heart under the powerful presence of the oak presiding over the glade. She has brought Angelo here before.

A blanket is spread, a basket stands open and Zee sits cross-legged on a cushion, facing the Greek man. "Tell me more."

Achilles has posed:
    Cushions being sat upon is a normal thing for olden times. "More... is quite open ended." he says with a smile on his face. "But I wager you want to know more about what we've been working on. I have learned that when I focus... I can pull from the ichor in my blood and augment a weapon in my hand. I did it kind of by accident.. once so far."

    He pauses, and then adds, "On an only -barely- related note, you do realize that I would consider you magical even without your magician's skills. Right?" he asks, trying to see if he can make her blush. What? He likes it.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Sly man, Zatanna's smile seems to say as she takes a breath, shaking her head, "The glade is working on your mind, Angelo. Next, you will be quoting me ancient poetry in Greek."

The smile lingers as she narrows her eyes, head tilted slightly to one side in question, "More was meant to be open ended. You are the one discovering your magic. If I tell you what you experience, it can put limits on what you perceive. Tell me about the accident." With an open-handed gesture, "Please."

Achilles has posed:
    "Well, it was in Scotland. And well... oddly enough, we were fighting what amounted to Zombies ... who were also sorcerers. I hurled my spear at one with all of the energy and force that I could muster. And as I did so, my hand and the spear began glowing golden. It seemed to impact with greater force than I expected." explains Angelo.

    But he looks up at the tree limbs above and smiles, "I would -like- to learn how to share my ability to heal myself with others. It could be extraordinarily useful. But I feel that it should be easier to do that than to imbue power into external weapons."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna nods at each pause. Her blue eyes focused intently on Angelo, occasionally become vague as a memory surfaces. At the end of his recital, she gives him an emphatic nod, "When your need was at its greatest, your mind stopped analyzing and your magic welled to the surface. It reminds me of a fissure in the earth, letting through spring water that has flowed underground for millennia."

Her sapphire eyes shut for a moment, and like him, she turns her face up to the branches above, feeling the green warmth of the sun filtering through the leaves. "Healer. The warrior-healer. How do you imagine doing that?"

Achilles has posed:
    "Well, I imagine the blessings of the Styx and Ambrosia have become a part of me. In my blood so to speak." offers Angelo as his face turns down from the tree. "So, the blood is the key. Perhaps by cutting my own palm and placing it upon a recipient..." he says softly, trailing off as his mind's eye starts to view how it might look. "I would like to -try- that, but sadly it would require that someone be injured first."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"That is not so hard to do. You just need to find someone who is not afraid of pain, Angelo." One shoulder rises in a nonchalant shrug.

"But!" She holds up a warning finger, "Don't rush to using your own blood. Too much dark magic depends on it and it can be turned against you. Not that healing isn't an act of generosity at its best."

Her lips purse doubtfully as she asks pointedly, "Did you use blood to imbue the spear you threw with your divinely given magic?"

Achilles has posed:
    "I don't... believe so." Angelo replies as his eyes glaze over in thought and memory. "So perhaps the ichor could just imbue my hands with the power and not need to cut my flesh to make it happen." he states.

    Then his eyes clear up once more and he studies Zatanna with a grin on his face. "I mean, who might I find who is willing to cut themselves so I might practice?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna stares at him from under raised eyebrows, "Why me, of course. That will give you motivation, won't it?"

One corner of her mouth lifts mischievously as she asks, "Angelo, are you telling me your touch is magic?"

Achilles has posed:
    "Oh, I would not -dream- of suggesting that. After all, only -you- could tell me if that is the case." Angelo replies with a smirk spreading over his face. "You are after all, the expert on magic here. Aren't you?"

    But he stands up and inclines his head. Unlike some people who would protest someone harming themselves in the pursuit of research. After all, if -he- doesn't have the ability to heal it, the odds are that Zatanna can. "Would you like one of my blades perhaps? Or would you prefer something of your own for the ... motivation."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"One of yours. Sharp with a little weight to it," she replies, after considering for a moment. Turning her hands over, fingers spread, she examines her hands asking contemplatively, "Now, the question is, how deep should I go? Should I panic you by cutting a vein or simply slice my thumb?" A breeze rustles the branches overhead as they prepare to explore his magic.

Achilles has posed:
    "Only you can decide that. But traditionally... lessons are best learned when one starts small and works their way up." suggests Angelo as he manifests that Xiphos sword in his hand. Strangely... a knife or dagger is -not- on his list of summonable weapons. Not yet at least.

    The weapon is tossed upwards, where it spins and then it is caught by the blade, holding the handle out to Zatanna. "You may use this. Just do not ask me to be the one to cut you."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Head tilted back, Zee watches the blade flash, turning in the sunlit glade to land in Angelo's dextrous hand. "That would be a hard thing to ask of anyone. Blood sacrifice carries terrible repercussions."

Zee rises from her cushion in one smooth motion and grasps the hilt with a grave nod. "It is a beautiful weapon. And sharp, no doubt?" Taking several steps back, she plants her feet and parries an imaginary opponent. With a significant look at him, she challenges, "Are you ready?"

The edges of the sword catch the light and burn for a moment. Then, holding the sword in her dominant right hand, brows drawing together in a frown, the magician presses her thumb with a swift downward movement on the edge of the blade. Blood stains the sharp edge of the sword, welling from the cut until it runs in a rivulet down her upturned thumb. With deliberate care, she hands the sword back to Angelo then holds her thumb out to him, letting the blood drip into the grass. A gift to the glade and magic.

Achilles has posed:
    Cuts and wounds are something of a familiar thing to Angelo. He watches this amazing... and pardon the pun, this 'magical' woman admire his weapon, turning it and wielding it... and doing a fairly good job of it. He smiles as he watches that. "You should let me show you a few tricks, just in case." he offers.

    And then... the blade slices into Zatanna's flesh... and Angelo's breath catches. His hands clench and he holds off for a moment. Just to make sure the blood -is- flowing.

    Taking the sword back.. but not by hand. Right now, he is not willing to use up a hand to do so. So... the Xiphos literally dissipates into the ether. Vanishing back into storage from whence it came. But his hands come up, and he gently takes hold of the wounded digit by the wrist in his left hand. His right hand, the dominant one... comes up to run fingertips up the palm... and along the undersides of the fingers.

    His eyes come up to meet hers, his green eyes ..... green with flecks of gold. A green that is slowly becoming pure gold as the ichor floods his system. He smiles into her eyes before turning his attention back to the hands... where his palm is pressing to hers, each finger splayed out against one of hers. The blood seeping from between thumbs pressed gently together. "My first time trying to heal anyone but myself..." he offers... and his eyes close as he concentrates.

    For some time, absolutely nothing happens. Hell, he almost forgets to breathe. But then he inhales sharply as he can -feel- it starting. Forty seven seconds after he closed his eyes, a soft golden glow can just -barely- be seen on the skin of his right hand. And the left to be honest...

    And then the bleeding ceases... he feels the drain of fatigue as the wound begins the healing process. And after two minutes..... it is healed. And Angelo opens his eyes to smile at her once more... only for those eyes to roll up into his head as he passes out.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Despite the cut which burns, Zatanna's eyes widen and she smiles faintly as the Xiphos returns to Angelo. Magic is her life's blood and it will never cease to fascinate her in all its forms. It is a precious thing to see someone awakening to their innate magic.

Studying him, the master watching the apprentice taking his first steps, she forgets the blood dripping from the pad of her thumb. It has yet to slow as Angelo assures himself that the cut was well made.

They lock gazes, her sapphire eyes darkening as the pupils enlarge, watching the faint signs of magic welling from him. She surrenders her hand to him, trusting that the wound will be healed, conscious of how warm his hands are against her cool skin.

To the non-occult eye, the magic rising from Angelo might appear as a faint glow, a trick of the sunlight. For Zatanna, it glows like the heat from a red hot poker, the heat waxing until the pain in her thumb stops.

The blood drains from Angelo's face and he falls in slow motion like a great tree felled in the forest. Snapping her fingers, magic arcs between them, she just barely cushioning the crash.

She drops to her knees next to him, muttering, "Well, that was unexpected."

Achilles has posed:
    Yeah. Apparently healing takes a bit out of Angelo. Especially when he is essentially weakening his own body's ability to restore itself in order to apply that to another. So being deprived of half of his self-restoration magics... while at the same time pushing mentally for powers within the ichor for the first time.

    It is no wonder that he passed out. His brain quite literally just underwent an absolute change to his paradigm of the universe. He channeled godly power. Okay, a tiny little sliver of it, in order to heal a tiny wound. But it was godly power in a mortal body. The odds are that he will get better with time. But hey, INFINITE COSMIC POWER... itty bitty living space.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
'No need to panic,' Zatanna tells herself. She sits on her knees, next to him, a hand on his chest which rises and falls normally. The flush returns to his face as she watches him. First uses of magic can be hair raising to say the least. He likely could have healed a heart transplant patient with the charge of magic he applied to her sliced thumb.

",pu ekaW"she murmurs.