She rolled her eyes and didn't bother to reply, turning around to mess with the flowers some more....
"Oh, they can do without it." It was the old woodcarver lady again, cheerfully walking out from trees that hadn't just been there, right where Mal could see her. A sword and several arrows were sticking through her torso, she was missing one arm at about her mid bicep, and she was carrying what looked like an adult's version of the arm she'd made for the child version of Chell in her other. There wasn't even a spot of red anywhere on her, though, her blue outfit entirely unmarred.
"But it's--"
"Not hurting anything." She got the arm into her sleeve, and as she raised it up in front of her... it was no longer carved wood, but looked just like her other.
"But...!" Past-Mallia wasn't entirely reassured by it; by the time she reached the elf lady, she'd taken child form again herself, big eyes full of tears, and hugged onto her legs.
"Oh, come now, poppet. It only hurts if you think it ought to, you know!" She reached up and pulled at the sword. It stuck at first, and then came right out, dropping dry dust behind it. There was no blood, no mess, not even a tear where it had gone through her top. "What about you? You're all right too, aren't you?" She crouched to hug the kid up, absently tucking the sword into a belt that hadn't been there, in a way that shouldn't have worked, but did. She hadn't slid it into the scabbard, but it was sheathed now....
"They shouldn't have even been here!"
"I know, I know...." She stood up again, shifting the much smaller figure up against the shoulder without the arrows sticking through it. "But better me, than someone who would get hurt. I can take it! Although, I think I'll be making a new leg. This one's not as sturdy as I'd like any more. Mind helping me with that, when we get back home?"
The littler figure nodded, giving in to a few little sobs and sniffles as she buried herself against the lady's neck. They began to head away, the carver rubbing her small back, saying something about how bones as old as the ones she had left didn't feel injury any more, and the scene was already fading.
Present-Mallia didn't comment, just continued to brush her hands through the flowers, not bothering to look up from them as she did.
cw for prior violence?
Date: 2023-10-17 07:12 am (UTC)"Oh, they can do without it." It was the old woodcarver lady again, cheerfully walking out from trees that hadn't just been there, right where Mal could see her. A sword and several arrows were sticking through her torso, she was missing one arm at about her mid bicep, and she was carrying what looked like an adult's version of the arm she'd made for the child version of Chell in her other. There wasn't even a spot of red anywhere on her, though, her blue outfit entirely unmarred.
"But it's--"
"Not hurting anything." She got the arm into her sleeve, and as she raised it up in front of her... it was no longer carved wood, but looked just like her other.
"But...!" Past-Mallia wasn't entirely reassured by it; by the time she reached the elf lady, she'd taken child form again herself, big eyes full of tears, and hugged onto her legs.
"Oh, come now, poppet. It only hurts if you think it ought to, you know!" She reached up and pulled at the sword. It stuck at first, and then came right out, dropping dry dust behind it. There was no blood, no mess, not even a tear where it had gone through her top. "What about you? You're all right too, aren't you?" She crouched to hug the kid up, absently tucking the sword into a belt that hadn't been there, in a way that shouldn't have worked, but did. She hadn't slid it into the scabbard, but it was sheathed now....
"They shouldn't have even been here!"
"I know, I know...." She stood up again, shifting the much smaller figure up against the shoulder without the arrows sticking through it. "But better me, than someone who would get hurt. I can take it! Although, I think I'll be making a new leg. This one's not as sturdy as I'd like any more. Mind helping me with that, when we get back home?"
The littler figure nodded, giving in to a few little sobs and sniffles as she buried herself against the lady's neck. They began to head away, the carver rubbing her small back, saying something about how bones as old as the ones she had left didn't feel injury any more, and the scene was already fading.
Present-Mallia didn't comment, just continued to brush her hands through the flowers, not bothering to look up from them as she did.