[Elsword says his name on an exhale, softly, slowly, like they aren't pressed for time, like nothing awful is happening outside these walls. He can tell, just from the sound of Add's voice and the barely-restrained whimper, that he's upset. Rightfully so, but it's not a good thing.
He cracks his eyes open, tracks his gaze to where Add is on the floor, and scoots closer. And closer. And closer... until they're knee-to-knee, and Elsword is lying down next to him. No care for the floors, he can clean these up when everything is alright again. Sometimes he wonders if it ever will be.]
Stop, [he requests gently,] you're not the only one who can heal. Let me take care of you.
[It really is all Elsword wants, all he asks of Add. "Let me do it. Let me take the burdens that are weighing you down, let me assist you, let me care for you." They're both messes, covered in blood and plant goo and dirt and who knows what else, both bleeding out and both probably would've already collapsed were they not used to combat-gone-sour. Yet here they are, both lucid enough to have this discussion, with Elsword attempting to use his golden retriever powers to make Add breathe for a second.
He doesn't expect that the outcome will be in his favour, but he tries.
What he can do is conjure his healing magic forth, another bubble-like spell but far less deadly to set down on top of them. When he's not concentrating those healing glyphs into any one area, the magic is diluted, but it should work for now to patch up any surface-level injuries. If they stay in it long enough, it should get the bigger ones, too.
He stares up at the vaulted ceiling for a moment before rolling onto his side, on the not-plant arm. Gives Add a tired quirk of the lips, a smile for all intents and purposes. Then, as though he's dealing with a frightened animal, he wraps Add in a hug.]
no subject
[Elsword says his name on an exhale, softly, slowly, like they aren't pressed for time, like nothing awful is happening outside these walls. He can tell, just from the sound of Add's voice and the barely-restrained whimper, that he's upset. Rightfully so, but it's not a good thing.
He cracks his eyes open, tracks his gaze to where Add is on the floor, and scoots closer. And closer. And closer... until they're knee-to-knee, and Elsword is lying down next to him. No care for the floors, he can clean these up when everything is alright again. Sometimes he wonders if it ever will be.]
Stop, [he requests gently,] you're not the only one who can heal. Let me take care of you.
[It really is all Elsword wants, all he asks of Add. "Let me do it. Let me take the burdens that are weighing you down, let me assist you, let me care for you." They're both messes, covered in blood and plant goo and dirt and who knows what else, both bleeding out and both probably would've already collapsed were they not used to combat-gone-sour. Yet here they are, both lucid enough to have this discussion, with Elsword attempting to use his golden retriever powers to make Add breathe for a second.
He doesn't expect that the outcome will be in his favour, but he tries.
What he can do is conjure his healing magic forth, another bubble-like spell but far less deadly to set down on top of them. When he's not concentrating those healing glyphs into any one area, the magic is diluted, but it should work for now to patch up any surface-level injuries. If they stay in it long enough, it should get the bigger ones, too.
He stares up at the vaulted ceiling for a moment before rolling onto his side, on the not-plant arm. Gives Add a tired quirk of the lips, a smile for all intents and purposes. Then, as though he's dealing with a frightened animal, he wraps Add in a hug.]