core install

[22:53] "What in the name of the Empire happened to everyone? You're either grievously hurt or acting like lunatics." Despite the monotony of her normal speaking voice, the seriousness and utter dumbfounded nature of what she has witnessed was... unerring.

Yet—with majority of her tools at her disposal—as well as her network of mechanical assistants, it likely would not be a problem to heal the more physical injuries.

As her medical gloves are put on and two medical bots joining her flank, the looks on to Marcel's injury.

"This... this could have been fatal." Blunt in delivery, yet all the more true. "We will have to reconnect your mana flow before you should even practice any spellcasting once more."

Almost immediately, the coursing electricity and numbing frost both relaxes Marcel's muscles and numbs any pain that might be derived from this injury's operation. "This is take a while, but I believe I have something that will be useful."

In a single snap of her fingers, one of her robotic assistants drift closer, an odd contraption brought upon its metallic fingers. Though some might not understand what it is, but for an expert like Marcel, he can easily appraise its Synthetic core-like design.
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[22:57] Before anything, he lays down on the bed.

Injured as it is, and with entirety of his body hurting, he'd rather not have to stand any longer than he has to; though given that Amelia was more than experienced enough for this, he had no doubt that she'll handle this just fine.

But with that said..

"We were on expedition."

"In that... cursed place. The Vale, or something." Marcel was never good with all matters spiritual, nor he saw the reason to begin learning more about it.

"There were Nethradin and other threatening beings. We walked through dimensional portals as well, and, well.."

"That tampered with their minds."

Surprisingly, anything that affects the mind has never touched Marcel. Perhaps it's his assured disposition, or perhaps it's something else.

"Then we had to fight some different creature that claimed itself to be Queen of Fae."

"Likely just some spiritual alien.. we put it down, but.. it was immensely powerful, once again tampering with everyone's minds." But his fate was different.

"I didn't get any of that. I got stabbed through with a large bone spear."

That could've been indeed fatal. An inch or two to the either side, and he could get his lungs or even heart pierced.

"And here we are."
(Marcel Delisle)
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[23:03] Celicia pauses in the doorway of the small treatment area and looks between the two. Compared to those she'd ventured off with, she boasted minimal injuries and appeared relatively sane.

Not that that was saying much.

She lifts her hands and gazes down at her palms, brows knitting together as she delves further into her thoughts while the two converse. A mixture of pain, confusion, and fear settles upon her face soon enough.

"...am I going to die, Marcel? It hurts- everything hurts. I'll need some time to get used to it, if it doesn't kill me."

Her fingers curl down and she lowers her head.

"Fae have regional queens. Her power was exceptional even among them, though."
(Celicia)
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[23:09] As her tools are set up by her assistants, an intrigued glance is passed to the two soldiers, each one bearing an equally zany retelling of exactly what went down.

If she weren't anymore attuned to the odd, perhaps she might have dismissed this as merely false hallucinations. But to tell the truth, she's seen worse.

"Very well. I will have to make a diagnosis upon each and every one who went into that expedition. It looks like my work..." She blinks, the heavy bags upon her eyes feel like they double in weight. "Has been cut out for me."

"Marcel and I can have a look over you after this," she comments, peering over to Celicia.

Thus, she began the process upon Marcel. The bone itself was still present; mana was being wasted; blood gushes from the piercing blow. So much potential... wasted.

Slowly, but surely, she begins to pry and chip upon the bone with a chisel. An attempt to whittle it down to a more thinner version that would easily be pulled out.

The process itself was methodical, needing precise removals for the most minimal of pain as possible. Yet soon enough, the bone slips right off, completing the first aspect of the operation.

Now all that was left was the gaping hole it left behind... Marcel probably didn't want to see this.
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[23:11] There was no doubt in his mind that their condition was just as bad.

Probably worse.. because the body could be simply repaired, but the mind is something rather complex- something that's impossible to easily fix. Nonetheless, while the treatment continues, there's only a steady, audible inhale..

Followed by exhale.

"There's a lot to do, yes."

Though with that said, he only glances at the gaping wound- while he's seen many of those during his medical practice, it's different when he'd see it on his own body.

His eyes close, but he speaks out to Celicia.

"No, you're not going to die."

"Just.. hang on for a little longer."
(Marcel Delisle)
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[23:17] As discomforting as it were, the sensation flowing through her mildly fascinated her. Occasion sharp pains cause her to break into a sweat anew, yet unsurprisingly she'd find success in holding on to a shaky smile through it.

"The mana in me is familiar, but... it's also not my own! I'll be fine for a while," she hesitantly murmurs.

While not entirely convinced of her own words, it was hard to feel differently while watching Marcel receive treatment.

She was hardly conscious of the fact that her own injury was far worse.

"If we're being honest? I think the others could use her help a little more right about now! You can treat me when you're feeling a bit better, Marc."

Given the current state of the city, Celicia didn't mind waiting a couple days.
(Celicia)
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[23:20] Marcel Delisle says, "--Never call me Marc again."
[23:20] Marcel Delisle says, "It's Marcel."
[23:20] "Try not to speak. I can see your diaphragm contracting." Of course, most of her operations involved the patient being put under anesthetics, but the direness of this situation alone seemed to call for her to immediately get to work. No time to put people to sleep.

Soon enough, the odd magitech core is brought forward. If Marcel knew anything about the miracles that Amelia has cone on the operating table, it was that all of them involved the application of the concept of 'flesh to metal', something her grandfather likely taught her.

"This will allow you to properly cast magic. It will take some getting used to, however this should provide you solace." Slowly, the core is lodged and stuffed into the gaping chest cavity.

A mixture of sutured stiches, welding electricity, and advanced runewriting would be put in play. Much like her Synthetics, there was a clear attempt to sew together the severed circuits.
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[23:22] Celicia asks, "...isn't that what I said?"
[23:22] Celicia says, "Whoops."
[23:23] {Item} You drop Enhanced Trauma Kit.
[23:25] Something metallic..

He hears it. Even if his eyes remain closed, he occasionally flinches whenever pain break through- whenever he feels the discomfort from the treatment that is given to him. But.. is it any wonder that he'd be like this?

"Mmh.."

He follows the advice to try and not to speak for the time being. While there are other things to speak on the matter, for now, it's best to remain silent.

Lest something wrong happens to him.

Quiet. He'll remain that way until the treatment is fully finished.
(Marcel Delisle)
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[23:27] In her numb state, she trails forward to gently pat at the man's shoulder while he receives treatment, reassuring him of her presence.

Even while suffering herself, it was clear he remained a high priority for her.
(Celicia)
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[23:30] As the operation continued, the pain upon Marcel's body at least begins to subside. As the core reunites his severed circuits, mana flow would begin to recirculate. A breath of fresh air provides his a sigh of relief as the bleeding stops.

In a matter of a few more actions, Synthetic skin is keenly applied over the sutured scars. Yet even that cannot hide the faintest glow of the synthetic core that now acted as a crutch. A crutch that was integral in keeping the Delisle as a functioning magi.

"I believe that should do it," she comments, wiping a sweat from her brow as one of her synthetic assistants hauls off the dirties tools for cleaning. "How do you feel?"
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[23:34] It was better than having nothing at all that could help him.

Besides, such injury could prove to be fatal, and at the very least he managed to survive. Through combination of Amelia's expertise, as well as various expensive metals utilized in the procedure, it's no wonder that he would be feeling this much better.

The supporting core in his chest felt..
Odd. Different.

He steadily rises, fingers tracing upon the fake flesh that once was a gaping wound; if anything, he could actually hardly feel any difference.. whereas it might be a crutch, it's actually..

Barely impairing him, if at all.
It's more of a scar now than an actual injury.

"--Feels better. Much better."

Inhale. Exhale.
He doesn't even feel pain anymore.

"Thanks for that."
(Marcel Delisle)