[The words, sharp as broken shards of glass and carrying just as much weight, were met with a fierce scowl from the weedy young man.]
Those are some harsh words coming from someone who can't stand, [he muttered darkly before tearing his eyes away and dispersing his Flash spell, leaving the two of them alone in the black with only the sound of their own breathing.
The harsh actions had purpose: a magus such as himself, young and wholly self taught, still had trouble maintaning a single spell at a time once he was rattled. Maintaining two was out of the question when the shadows around them grew larger, the echoing drips of water against the stone wall threatened to drown out all thought, and the dark whispers that lingered in the air set one's heart dancing on the edge of fear.
He had in his hands the human equivilent of an injured Luxray, one that could eat him alive if he dared to carry out the aid that he offered. The threat of harm was there one way or the other; at least this way, he could have some control.]
...Just shut up, okay? And don't move.
[And those were Waver's last words before he moved a slender hand to the man's chest, feeling the mud and debris on the cloth-- and, through that, a thready heartbeat to match the shallow breathing, the ferocity of Gilgamesh's words.
Uttering strange words under his breath, words that weren't meant for anyone else's ears, Waver focused his focus and his energy into mimicking a technique he had observed among pokemon. To a senior Magus, such a spell was elementary-- but, there was no denying it's effectiveness. Soon a pale glow lit the area, and Gilgamesh might feel warmth. And relief.
It was a Heal Pulse-- an amateur's one, but it was better than nothing.]
no subject
Those are some harsh words coming from someone who can't stand, [he muttered darkly before tearing his eyes away and dispersing his Flash spell, leaving the two of them alone in the black with only the sound of their own breathing.
The harsh actions had purpose: a magus such as himself, young and wholly self taught, still had trouble maintaning a single spell at a time once he was rattled. Maintaining two was out of the question when the shadows around them grew larger, the echoing drips of water against the stone wall threatened to drown out all thought, and the dark whispers that lingered in the air set one's heart dancing on the edge of fear.
He had in his hands the human equivilent of an injured Luxray, one that could eat him alive if he dared to carry out the aid that he offered. The threat of harm was there one way or the other; at least this way, he could have some control.]
...Just shut up, okay? And don't move.
[And those were Waver's last words before he moved a slender hand to the man's chest, feeling the mud and debris on the cloth-- and, through that, a thready heartbeat to match the shallow breathing, the ferocity of Gilgamesh's words.
Uttering strange words under his breath, words that weren't meant for anyone else's ears, Waver focused his focus and his energy into mimicking a technique he had observed among pokemon. To a senior Magus, such a spell was elementary-- but, there was no denying it's effectiveness. Soon a pale glow lit the area, and Gilgamesh might feel warmth. And relief.
It was a Heal Pulse-- an amateur's one, but it was better than nothing.]