a. z. fell
She/Her
30
December 21st
Fortree, Hoenn
Bisexual
Surviving
Civillian
i'm just a demon who goes along with hell as far as she can.
[attr="class","mitcheltop"] [attr="class","mitchelpkmn"] [attr="class","mitchelpkmn"] [attr="class","mitchelw"] tw eye trauma / surgical mentions !! Neural grafting was a very delicate procedure. But life so infrequently accounted for these things. Shrugging a shoulder and summoning her Gardevoir by tossing her Pokeball to the side, Cyg made a small slit in the neural sheath; with her other hand, she spun the protective cover off the node at the back of the eye revealing the thin, fiber-optic like needles protruding from it. A soft pink glow overtook her fingers as Kanaya’s psychic guided man and machine together, Cyg not even daring to breathe. Then, the Gardevoir flexed her hand, and small, pink rings dropped from her palm, as the heal pulse fused the neural sheath back together. Cyg set the prosthetic in the socket, gently. “Now if this was, like, proper, there’d be surgery and muscle grafting and all that sort of shit. But I’m just trying to get this thing to work.” She’d already pulled up a second injectable bottle and drawn back a syringe full of an opaque liquid. “I’m gonna pump him full of Naloxone, wake him up, and see if he screams.” And she did just that, jumping down off the counter after and trying to temper her expectations. If this worked, it was revolutionary technology for those with newly injured eyes. There was still a lot to do, of course. An eye wasn’t very useful if it didn’t also respond to stimuli, but that was a lot of bullshit she was still working on. But it still didn’t do anything for Isaac Merlo which was the whole fucking point of this in the first place. Baby steps, Cygne, baby steps. Kanaya assisted the reversal agent by dropping soft halos of heal pulse over the subject, and before long he was squirming and pulling at his binds. His un-altered eye fluttered under its lid, and slowly opened. “Heyyyyyy there, buddy,” Cyg said, leaning over him and giving a little finger wave, “I know this has all been real scary but just bear with me here. How many fingers am I holding up?”
The guy, whose poor brain hadn’t completely turned on yet, mumbled, “Two?” Cyg flashes Zev a grin. “Well, he’s not dead yet, so that’s a plus. Great, perfect, that means I didn’t fry your brain with all the drugs. How about--,” she covered his untouched eye with her palm-- "now?" There’s a moment of recognition that passes over the guy’s features, the contortion of his mouth as it tightens, opens, shuts; his whole body writhes as his struggles to escape increase. She slaps the subject gently on the cheek twice. “Focus, pumpkin. How many fingers?” “I don’t-- why-- I can’t--,” “Shh-shh-shh. Focus. Answer the question, and then I’ll let you go. Okay?” “I can’t-- it’s too bright-- why can’t I--,” Cyg frowned. “Can you see anything? Shapes? Colors?” She waggled her fingers. “Movement?” “I-- yeah, I-- there’s something moving but-- why’s it so bright?” “Focus.” “I-- I can’t-- I-- f--four?” “Ha! Brilliant!” She balled her fist. “And how about now?” “Ahh-- that’s-- just, nng--,” she felt his good eye squinting under the hard press of her palm, “--j-j-just your hand?”“I’ll take it!” Cyg fist pumped as she leaped back onto the counter with a whoop. “Tag ‘em and bag ‘em, boys.” Her Dusknoir and her Zoroark traded a pained look. “That means,” Cyg said, pulling up another syringe of morphine, “drug them and I’ll take them back to my shop.” “H-h-hey, wait--!” “Nighty night, now.” He quieted soon after the injection, and Cyg dug in her pack for some glue to slap on him to keep the eye in the socket without pulling too much on the optic nerve. "Whew, one small step for man, et-fucking-cetera."Surely the victorious elation of success would set in eventually... right? [googlefont="Nunito"][googlefont="Quattrocento"][newclass=.mitcheltop]text-align: right; background-color: #2b2b2b; display: block ruby; width: max-content; margin-bottom: -15px; border-right: solid 1px #232323; border-left: solid 1px #232323; border-top: solid 1px #232323; border-radius: 5px 5px 0px 0px; margin-left: 83px;[/newclass][newclass=.mitchelpkmn]text-align: center; border-left: solid 1px #232323; height: 75px; width: 75px; margin-left: -1px; border-radius: 2px 0px 0px 0px;[/newclass][newclass=.mitchelw] width:370px;background-color:#232323;padding:45px;text-align:justify;font-size:13px;line-height:16px;letter-spacing:.5px; margin: 0 auto; font-family:nunito, sans-serif; border-radius: 0px 5px 0px 0px; [/newclass][newclass=.mitchelw b] color: #7b6678; font-size: 13px; letter-spacing: 1px; font-weight: 700; [/newclass][newclass=.mitchelw i] color: #888; [/newclass][newclass=.mitchelw u] text-decoration: none; font: bold 10px Quattrocento Sans; letter-spacing: 3px; color: #666666; text-transform: uppercase; [/newclass][newclass=.mitcheltag] padding: 25px 44px 25px 45px; background-color: #2b2b2b; margin: 0 auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-top: -45px; width: 369px; text-align: right; border-bottom: solid 1px #232323; border-left: solid 1px #232323; border-right: solid 1px #232323; border-radius: 0px 0px 5px 5px; [/newclass][newclass=.mitcheltag a] text-transform:uppercase!important;font:800 15px Poppins!important; [/newclass]
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