Wonderful. [Not just a word, there's something truly wonderful in it, the many coming together, no vast sacrifice needed, no life taken to save another..] You're all making this look so easy. If any of you grow tired, the sort of tired that makes your head fuzzy, let me know. We're almost finished now.
[As long as things worked, pain free and easily, did it matter if Tessla shared a look with her clustered sisters instead of starkly human? Knives didn't think so, a plant was beautiful no matter how many eyes or limbs she had. The outline Vash offers of a different kind of sister, without multiple torsos and dozens of limbs, is strange and unfamiliar, but they too are beautiful. He could force the issue, sever things not quite lining up and reattach them -- but he doesn't. That's unnecessary trauma added to already enough misery, so he simply tugs with a thread of Vash's power to try to lure the wayward arm (and wing..) in the proper direction, properly oriented. Any debris left of sand and stone should be burning in earnest, sloughed off and discarded as unworthy and useless into the ground.
He still had her hand, the intact one that hadn't gone on its own little journey, but he lets go with one of his own to tap lightly against the blindfold of wing. These eyes belong in a head, not a wing, move on, little blue eyes.
And an alternative, silently offered: simply grow more and leave those ones where they are, is there harm in more than two eyes? It's not part of the plan, of any kind of sister or a humanlike form, but if she felt more comfortable with it, that mattered more.]
Try to take a deep breath, and try to speak. Does it still feel, hm, rough?
[An important thing to know, before muscle closes all of that up and would require cutting to re-arrange. Easier, to encourage flesh to knit together in other places, across her mutilated hips and mending guts, mend all the small pinpoints of damage hungry little worms had begun. With some encouragement, she should at least have a strong pulse, if her lungs worked right then that was the fuel muscles needed and he could begin with the process of crawling skin layer by layer over the damage that had otherwise been stitched back together, crisscrossing angry red muscle and a thin layer of fat with skin that has the pallor of never having seen daylight. It'll flush, when the blood vessels connect.
There was more delicate work to do, to hunt for and if found repair the tearing in every throat that can happen from too much screaming, too much pain.]
Please reach out with the arm I'm not holding. Flex your fingers if you can. Little brother, if you can reach her feet, we need to be sure sensation's returned there. Touch should be plenty.
[Things were well enough along to test range of motion and returning strength, sensation and reflexes before everything was put back together so much that it would need to be rebroken to heal another way.]
no subject
[As long as things worked, pain free and easily, did it matter if Tessla shared a look with her clustered sisters instead of starkly human? Knives didn't think so, a plant was beautiful no matter how many eyes or limbs she had. The outline Vash offers of a different kind of sister, without multiple torsos and dozens of limbs, is strange and unfamiliar, but they too are beautiful. He could force the issue, sever things not quite lining up and reattach them -- but he doesn't. That's unnecessary trauma added to already enough misery, so he simply tugs with a thread of Vash's power to try to lure the wayward arm (and wing..) in the proper direction, properly oriented. Any debris left of sand and stone should be burning in earnest, sloughed off and discarded as unworthy and useless into the ground.
He still had her hand, the intact one that hadn't gone on its own little journey, but he lets go with one of his own to tap lightly against the blindfold of wing. These eyes belong in a head, not a wing, move on, little blue eyes.
And an alternative, silently offered: simply grow more and leave those ones where they are, is there harm in more than two eyes? It's not part of the plan, of any kind of sister or a humanlike form, but if she felt more comfortable with it, that mattered more.]
Try to take a deep breath, and try to speak. Does it still feel, hm, rough?
[An important thing to know, before muscle closes all of that up and would require cutting to re-arrange. Easier, to encourage flesh to knit together in other places, across her mutilated hips and mending guts, mend all the small pinpoints of damage hungry little worms had begun. With some encouragement, she should at least have a strong pulse, if her lungs worked right then that was the fuel muscles needed and he could begin with the process of crawling skin layer by layer over the damage that had otherwise been stitched back together, crisscrossing angry red muscle and a thin layer of fat with skin that has the pallor of never having seen daylight. It'll flush, when the blood vessels connect.
There was more delicate work to do, to hunt for and if found repair the tearing in every throat that can happen from too much screaming, too much pain.]
Please reach out with the arm I'm not holding. Flex your fingers if you can. Little brother, if you can reach her feet, we need to be sure sensation's returned there. Touch should be plenty.
[Things were well enough along to test range of motion and returning strength, sensation and reflexes before everything was put back together so much that it would need to be rebroken to heal another way.]