Eva begins to struggle to keep him upright. Her arms wrap around him tighter, letting him lean against her but there’s only so much she can do – she’s half his size. Her gaze turns back towards the building, the stench of seared flesh is burned into his nostrils. She can still smell it, still hear the scream. Was this Matias’s plan all along? Did he trick her into coming only to seek vengeance rather than justice?

She silently stews in her doubt, bordering anger. There’s more important things to address, “C’mon, let me have a look at you,” she pulls him further way, she doesn’t want to watch it burn anymore. Blade moves towards his pokemon to if any of them could benefit from a HEAL PULSE.

MATIAS SILPH

[attr="class","matias"]they stumble away from the burning warehouse until they deem it safe enough. it's then that his strength fades just enough to take him to the ground, lowering with her help onto the once-cool grass that's now warm, bordering hot from the flames.

matias is stubborn, proud, and so his first instinct is to shrug off the help.

"i'm fine."

despite his words, he knows he's not. he's bloodied, bruised, and hurting.

[attr="class","noodles"]Eva Morales

Stubborn. She knows it. Well, maybe she didn’t, but she should have guessed. He’s a soldier, after all. They were all stubborn in their own way. Sometimes, it made her job exceedingly difficult.

She helps him to the ground then settles beside him. A deep breath calms her. It doesn’t actually calm her; it just steels her. Eva hides relief behind a stoic gaze. She teeters between anger and being grateful for them being out here and not in there. Emotions brush aside and she turns towards Matias,“Don’t do that,” lie to me.

MATIAS SILPH

[attr="class","matias"]pain and exhaustion mingle as they overpower him. exhaling, he falls to lay on his back. stars that once littered the night sky seem to have disappeared, perhaps clouded by smoke and flames.

grunting, he tilts his head over to look at her.

"do what?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Eva Morales

She looks back at him, examining the broken nose and rising bruises. There’s a knot in her stomach she can’t explain. It pains her, “Lie to me,” her whole body turns towards him. Her hands raise towards him, “You’re not fine,” None of this is fine.

MATIAS SILPH

[attr="class","matias"]"..."

it's guilt he feels; for what exactly, he isn't too sure.

"fine."

there's no point arguing because he knows she's right. he can practically see his broken nose, taste blood on his lips, and feel bruises starting to swell.

he spits blood off to the side.

"you okay?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Eva Morales

Her hands hover, not quite touching him yet. There’s hesitation, as if she’s touching something delicate, afraid it’s going to break. He spits blood off to the side, she frowns. It’s not fine. There’s a stern look, an attempt to hide whatever emotions bubble inside. She scoots closer, palms gently resting on his cheeks while she examines his nose. Like a hypocrite, she ignores his question. She’s not the one broken and bleeding, “Let me set this before it’s permanently fucked up,” This probably isn’t his first broken nose so he knows it’s going to hurt. Her eyes find his, “Are you ready?”

MATIAS SILPH

[attr="class","matias"]matias can barely feel her palms on his cheeks over the lingering intensity of the flames. it isn't until her eyes find his that he snaps out of it, once again pulled back by her.

and then, her touch grounds him.

"yeah."

it isn't his first broken nose so he knows what to expect. doesn't make it any less painful, though.

[attr="class","noodles"]Eva Morales

The fire burns. She can feel it, the heat on her back is intense. The flames flicker in his eyes, a reflection of the violence that lingers behind them. Adrenaline still has its hold, but with each passing second its grip weakens, and reality creeps in. Pain, loss, anger, fear. It all hits her like a sledgehammer in a way it hasn’t before. This feels more personal. It’s uncomfortable because it’s different. Of course, holding his head in her hands and staring into his eyes probably didn’t help.

“Alright . . .

One . . .

Two . . .”

CRACK

She always finds catching people off guard makes it easier. A forceful push of her thumbs pops the dislocated nose back into place. Her hands linger, for comfort.

MATIAS SILPH

[attr="class","matias"]they always go on two and yet it always surprises him.

crack— "—fuck."

grunting in pain, matias exhales but doesn't move out of her hands, perhaps worried he'd drown without her.

"thanks."

after another moment, he asks:

"you okay?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Eva Morales

Fingers gingerly palpate the bridge of his nose, making sure the set was actually appropriate and she wouldn’t have to do it all over again. Thankfully, it feels smooth and in place. Her hands slowly peel back, head tilting to admire her work. There’s not much she can do about the rising bruises except help cold compress them later. Her eyes wander down, inspecting what she can for any overt signs of injury that need addressing. They lift again to meet his when she asks his questions a second time, “I’m okay,” she confirms. Physically, she’s fine. She didn’t do much except stand there and watch them beat the hell out of each other, “Anything else broken?” her eyes leave his again to scan his body.

MATIAS SILPH

[attr="class","matias"]her confirmation brings more relief than he thought it would. he nods, able to exhale and attempt to find some sort of peace in the midst of a burning warehouse.

"good."

it's only then that his mind drifts, remembering what just transpired. he makes little attempt to hide the grin that sneaks onto his features.

"don't think so."

a moment passes before he asks:

"he dead?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Eva Morales

KING WAYLAND ’s threat never came to fruition. She’s alive, and just fine. Unscathed, really.

Eva’s face twists into something that mimics surprise. Is Matias . . . smiling?

The surprise morphs into a form of disgust. So, this was about vengeance after all. He tricked her into coming on some murder mission. That’s not what she signed up for.

Nothing else is broken? Good. Her job here is done.

It’s a judgmental and angry glare that meets his to answer his question, “Hopefully . . . or else he’s suffering,” The thought made her stomach turn. Without another word she gets up to walk away, he doesn’t need her help anymore.

MATIAS SILPH