lostcarnival | (no subject)

Who: Zecora and everyone else
Where: The medical tent and in the carnival
When: Soon after the Agent battle
What: Zecora does her job. And is tired.
Warnings: None?

A.

[The medical tent is a dark and shadowy place in the aftermath of the Agent attacks, but those shadows are not unwelcoming. The very essence of the air seems permeated with Zecora's personality, warm and exotic and welcoming if you can get past how mysterious and occasionally creepy it is. In the depths of the tent, Zecora herself stalks from tables to seats to cauldrons bubbling in the back, seeming everywhere and nowhere at once, as if she's less a being and more a force of nature.]

[Given how the carnival is, this is probably a little alarming.]

[Those who are already here, she has instructed already -- whether they're awaiting minor treatments or major. But for those just arriving? Even in the middle of her exams, she lifts her voice to greet them, a faint rasp at the very depths of her rhymes.]

Please enter. Have a seat.
I'll be with you soon to treat
Whatever ailment is your trouble.
Call if I'm needed on the double.

B.

[Late at night, when the businesses of medicine in specific and the carnival in general are done, those keen of eye or sharp of ear -- or who just happen to be walking past the food stands -- will find a zebra half-sitting, half-lying on a bench, a partly-eaten funnelcake lying next to her muzzle. She'd tried to get some food, the first she'd had all day, once she'd single-hoofedly seen to every patient and ailment in the carnival's numbers... but exhaustion had won the day.]

[On the upside, she's looking properly solid now -- but beneath her fur, her fae marks glow a faint grey, apparently unable to stop even out of the presence of active magic.]

[Wait a moment and the observer gets to spot one hoof twitching violently, proof that her sleep isn't quite as restful as she needs it to be.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Just a cut. [ She shows the zebra -- there's a large gash in her forearm where she was working on a machine. Black oil stains the skin around it. ]

Just that? A pleasant surprise.
You may wish to shut your eyes.

[Zecora gives her a moment to decide. Normally this isn't a problem, but she's just freaking out people left and right today somehow.]

Okay. [ She puts her hand over her eyes -- but peeks anyway, curious to see what the zebra is doing. ]

[Zecora's magic boils out of her like a writhing black tendril pouring from the fae marks shining beneath the fur of her foreleg. It reaches out and strokes the wound, sealing it like glue and knitting the flesh together as if it had never been parted.]

[Not the best aesthetic for healing magic. Really not. It's been a day.]

[ Chiaki's too fascinated to be frightened. She all but drops the act, staring with fascination as Zecora's magic knits up her skin, as if the gash was never there.

She remembers how badly she was injured when she first arrived, her cat ears twitching at the memory of it. She'd been too out of it to really notice what Zecora had been doing, but...

This was powerful magic. ]

Where did you learn this? [ She speaks quietly, still staring even as Zecora's magic retreats. ]

[Zecora shivers as she lowers her foreleg. Normally a spell like that takes no effort, but at this point Zecora is emptying her reserves to treat the victims of the attacks. Every little bit counts.]

It was my pay
For my first year and day.