What really comes to mind is helping to patch up other survivors in the middle of a match, rough bandages and soothing words and anything to make sure they could keep going, endure more pain to carry on. The crossing over, the tightening, securing things in place. Absently, her finger traces out a figure eight on the table, trying to let any instincts speak if they would.
As Helena is figuring out how her gesture might look as opposed to the device that Dedusmuln would have conjured up, Wayne sits, a fork in hand. He looks down at the back of his hand, then at her, then very quickly stabs the tines into the yellow flesh. It's a pretty minor wound all things considered. He only needs to be bleeding, after all.
"Here, a practical demo," he offers, holding his hand out across the table as the haemolymph wells. "It's not big, don't worry too much about getting it perfect, I've still got hotdogs for days."
It's obvious what he did, even if she can't see it, and she frowns deeply. If she can't get the hang of this, there's always the infirmary, but couldn't she have tried this without him hurting himself for it? Even if it's small, he's still her friend. Still someone she doesn't want to see hurt.
It's a want to stop his hurt, something that touches the back of her head, where that tingling feeling is, makes it come back in her. Maybe she should raise her hand up? Maybe it could...
The motion comes almost without thinking about it. Down left, figure eight, pull back. And there's a sound, a fsssss like from an aerosol can, and then the settling of the Foam Armor on the skin. no more pain. sealing his wound, leaving the sensations of something soft, lightweight, slowly drying - the armor hardening for him. A faint sheen over the wound that's going to dwindle to matte.
If he'd warned her she might have tried to stop him! Logical, really. Her reaction is precisely what he was hoping for though, and in moments the pain is soothed over. It's not the most elegant, but it's doing exactly what it was meant to, and letting him heal up under the protective layer. It would be tacky for a bit, but otherwise, he's satisfied.
He can't help but smile back. It's a relief to know that it works, and more than that, that she's happy to have the new ability available to her.
"You heard that sound, right? That was the foam being produced. Here, check it out." He holds the hand out in front of her so that she can touch the drying armor layer. "This is the protective layer that it produces. It's requires more energy to use so you gotta be careful about it and there's no Converter Worm here to help with that."
"A nap, some food, or I have-" He pulls up a Juicebox, letting it float out of his hand and scrunch down, restoring her energy on the spot. "I know I won't always be right there to top you up, but it's something at least. My suggestion's to see if there's juice or something you can take with you."
She nods, and stands up. "I know they have some behind the counter here, Ava showed me once..."
Going into the small refrigerator, she finds the bottle by opening the cap and sniffing, one sized for a single person's serving, and brings it back to the table. Apple, says the label.
Wayne cranes to look at it, making a small sound and nodding in his approval. He's grabbed other kinds of juice here and there just to see what might work when he needed to Deploy it, and had found that as long as it adheres to generally the same volume and composition, it works well enough as a Juice Box. Maybe the next time he would get one, it would allow someone to Deploy things the same way that he does. He'd probably have to show her how that worked too, but she got this quickly enough that he doesn't doubt she'd be able to do that too.
"Eh...good point, they might not, if it goes the same way as last time... I don't know how to determine how much capacity you have without repeatedly testing it, though. I usually have a pretty good handle on how much energy I have left, but I've been doing this for a long time now."
"Not to sound too grim, but I assume there'll be a time sooner rather than later where I'll need to help multiple people, and then we'll discover how deep the well runs."
She shrugs, tucking the bottle into her bag at her side.
"If we're lucky, I'll be able to try it more than twice. And on myself, when needed."
"Nah, not grim, just realistic." He rubs his hand over the layer of foam as it dries. Soon enough it would crack off and the flesh underneath would be healed up as if it had never been damaged.
"I think it'll be fine though, as long as you're maintaining your energy in the meanwhile. I always have something on me to make sure I don't run low, or I don't use any big Gestures that would sap my energy. Foam armor's kind of a big one but it's also like, for when you're taking big hits, or a lot of them. I think Dedusmuln learned it so they could keep us from dying as often. Maybe it'll work the same for you."
"Even outside of the excursions, people get hurt in a bad way sometimes. If that could be lessened, then I'm happy to learn the limits of this power. Say someone falls the wrong way, or accidents happen in training - it's something that can be aided."
She's definitely thinking about Darcy snapping his arm in training the other day.
"...And it's not something that'll make me want to fight any more than I already do."
"It's way better than the alternatives," he adds, knowing that some of them cared so little about themselves that they might simply ask to be killed just to skip the healing process, even with the extra consequences that have gone into effect.
He smiles faintly, and knocks the back of his hand against the table, the sound a little bit weirder than just knuckles on laminate.
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What really comes to mind is helping to patch up other survivors in the middle of a match, rough bandages and soothing words and anything to make sure they could keep going, endure more pain to carry on. The crossing over, the tightening, securing things in place. Absently, her finger traces out a figure eight on the table, trying to let any instincts speak if they would.
cw: self-harm
"Here, a practical demo," he offers, holding his hand out across the table as the haemolymph wells. "It's not big, don't worry too much about getting it perfect, I've still got hotdogs for days."
no subject
It's obvious what he did, even if she can't see it, and she frowns deeply. If she can't get the hang of this, there's always the infirmary, but couldn't she have tried this without him hurting himself for it? Even if it's small, he's still her friend. Still someone she doesn't want to see hurt.
It's a want to stop his hurt, something that touches the back of her head, where that tingling feeling is, makes it come back in her. Maybe she should raise her hand up? Maybe it could...
The motion comes almost without thinking about it. Down left, figure eight, pull back. And there's a sound, a fsssss like from an aerosol can, and then the settling of the Foam Armor on the skin. no more pain. sealing his wound, leaving the sensations of something soft, lightweight, slowly drying - the armor hardening for him. A faint sheen over the wound that's going to dwindle to matte.
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"Hey, you're a natural."
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She instantly shifts from worried for him to delighted, stretching her hand out and then pulling it back, practically sparkling in her delight.
"I can heal. I can help people like this!"
It's enough to make her laugh for sheer joy.
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"You heard that sound, right? That was the foam being produced. Here, check it out." He holds the hand out in front of her so that she can touch the drying armor layer. "This is the protective layer that it produces. It's requires more energy to use so you gotta be careful about it and there's no Converter Worm here to help with that."
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"I see...I'll probably have to nap or something to get my energy back afterwards. I assume if there's not enough, it just...won't work."
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Going into the small refrigerator, she finds the bottle by opening the cap and sniffing, one sized for a single person's serving, and brings it back to the table. Apple, says the label.
"I hope they'll let me take my bag."
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"Eh...good point, they might not, if it goes the same way as last time... I don't know how to determine how much capacity you have without repeatedly testing it, though. I usually have a pretty good handle on how much energy I have left, but I've been doing this for a long time now."
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She shrugs, tucking the bottle into her bag at her side.
"If we're lucky, I'll be able to try it more than twice. And on myself, when needed."
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"I think it'll be fine though, as long as you're maintaining your energy in the meanwhile. I always have something on me to make sure I don't run low, or I don't use any big Gestures that would sap my energy. Foam armor's kind of a big one but it's also like, for when you're taking big hits, or a lot of them. I think Dedusmuln learned it so they could keep us from dying as often. Maybe it'll work the same for you."
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She's definitely thinking about Darcy snapping his arm in training the other day.
"...And it's not something that'll make me want to fight any more than I already do."
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He smiles faintly, and knocks the back of his hand against the table, the sound a little bit weirder than just knuckles on laminate.
"It's all just in case."