Shattered Reflections [M]

[MorningStar]

Ipsen caught Arya in his arms, deftly shuffling her away while keeping a predatory gaze fixed on the shopkeeper.

The surge of Lowen's emotions again perplexed Ipsen. Ordinarily, he might seize the opportunity to thrust a knife into the woman's stomach, but an unexplainable force held him back. It was becoming increasingly irksome.

"Yeah, we do need to have a little chat," Ipsen echoed, a dangerous glint in his eye. "She told ya, right? You saw it right? I change."

A small, calculated smile accompanied Ipsen's nod as he stepped back. Picking up another vial, he examined it with feigned curiosity before sharply returning his gaze to Vae. "Makes me sick," Ipsen continued. "So here's the deal: help me get rid of that wuss Lowen, and I'll kill ol' Scarface here for ya, free of charge.".

[wandering_giraffe]

Vae perked up at that offer.
"Is Lowen the...other guy?" He curiously asked, his anger gone like a vapor of smoke.
Arya, meanwhile, was pissed.
"You let go of me, you sorry, twofaced rat!"
She was desperately trying to get her dagger that was sheathed, because in the commotion, the dagger she was holding she had lost, and who knows where it was. Hopefully away from Ipsen.
"Lowen!" She desperately yelled.
"You've gotta wake up!"
Vae smiled maliciously.
"I'll kill Lowen for you...and you can take your pick of poisons for Arya, if that's your game...I've got hundreds."

[MorningStar]

Ipsen burst into laughter, starting with an amused smile and a breathy chuckle that escalated into outright hilarity. Pointing at Vae with admiration, his finger bobbed back and forth in the characteristic manner of someone thoroughly enjoying a moment. "Friend, I absolutely adore your style," Ipsen declared in a slow and hushed tone.

He shot a wicked smile toward Arya, a playful glint in his eyes, before redirecting his attention to the shopkeep. "Alright, you've got yourself a—No!"

Ipsen's laughter abruptly halted, replaced by a sharp intake of breath as if he'd been struck in the gut. His eyes blinked slowly as the realization dawned, and a sudden surge of unbridled rage contorted his features. He was propelled backward, crashing to the ground, sending shelves tumbling as if grappling with an unseen adversary.

When his eyes reopened, it was Lowen who emerged.

Lowen, surprisingly less disoriented than usual, turned to Arya with an expression unlike his usual worry and panic—it was awareness of the other man. "Arya," he said breathlessly. "I felt him."

[wandering_giraffe]

Vae watched all that unfolded with a mix of confusion and amusement, before turning to Arya with a scowl etched across his face.
"If whatever that other character is won't kill you, I will."
Arya had run over to help Lowen up, as soon as she saw he had changed back.
She helped him stand.
"You felt him? Do you remember anything from minutes ago? Did he say anything to you?"
Vae shook his head.
"This is all so heartwrenchingly sweet. But your 10 minutes is up."
He unsheathed a knife with a strange cylindrical blade, and advanced again toward Arya.
"Unless you want to get killed yourself, stay out of the way," he warned Lowen.

[MorningStar]

In a desperate attempt to shield Arya from Vae's advancing figure, he threw himself in front of her. Arms extended, his futile gesture spoke of a fearless determination, as if the mere act of standing between Arya and Vae could somehow ward off the impending threat.

"Wait!" Lowen pleaded.

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya gasped when Lowen stepped in between them.
Vae also paused, if only to grip the weapon he was holding tighter.
"Move!" He growled, simply shoving Lowen harshly out of the way and into a shelf with one hand. Arya was acting helpless, but she had a throwing knife stored in her boot, and when Lowen jumped in between them, she discreetly drew it, holding it in her hand, hiding her hand behind her back.
Vae moved with lightning speed, hitting Arya across the face and knocking her to the floor with the hilt of his dagger; kicking her squarely in the ribs. Arya let out a gasp of pain, but kept her dagger hidden. She had to wait...
Vae knelt down beside her, smirking in malicious victory.
He raised the dagger for the killing blow, and that's when Arya brought out her dagger, slashing him across the face. Vae cried out in anger, dropping his dagger and clutching his face.
Arya struggled to her feet, looking for Lowen, her ribs screaming in pain.

[MorningStar]

Shit bananas that hurt.

How on earth does Ipsen kill with this body? The shopkeep just tossed him aside like a scrap of paper, and for a moment he felt as if he leaned fly before the unforgiving crash into a shelf.

By the time he was able to move again, though wincing from the pain in his back, he could see Arya momentarily with the upper hand but with a severe look of discomfort.

He scrambled to his feet before hurrying to her side. "Maybe this wasn't the best idea," he nearly scolded her before wrapping her arm around his shoulders for support. "Let's go!"

[wandering_giraffe]

"Maybe you're right," she admitted, wincing in pain with every step.
"Let's get back to my cabin and we'll figure out a pla"—-she wasn't able to finish her sentence, because from the ground where Vae was he managed to crudely throw his dagger, the weapon embedding in Arya's leg.
"You forget! I always win in the end!" And Vae let out a deranged laugh.
She let out a yelp of pain, but they both managed to get out the door, and Arya slammed it shut.
"Just go! My cabin isn't that far! I-shit—I have medical supplies there. I'm fine...I don't think he hit very deep."
But her leg was bleeding a lot...but what they should be worrying about isn't the blood loss...but what was causing the blood loss...

[MorningStar]

"Oh, shut up," he told her, getting them for enough away from the shop to be able to look to her wound. Not too far away, but enough.

With urgency in his movements, Lowen knelt beside Arya, assessing the dagger lodged in her leg. "We can't wait," he said, determination in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to remove the weapon.

"I know a bit of healing," Lowen assured Arya, gently squeezing her hand for reassurance. "But fair warning, the magic might sting a bit. Squeeze my hand if it gets too much."

With a swift and steady motion, he extracted the dagger. Ripping off a piece of his shirt, Lowen swiftly fashioned a makeshift bandage, applying pressure to stem the bleeding. As he worked to secure the wound, he maintained eye contact with Arya, offering silent comfort amidst the challenging circumstances.

"This will get us there," he spoke once more, "but it won't help forever. We need to get to your supplies."

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya inhaled sharply as Lowen dealt with the dagger in her leg.
"Careful—-there can be poison sometimes." She gritted her teeth. Gods, she hated being stabbed. It never got old. When he removed it, there was a hiss from the dagger, almost like steam was trying to escape from something.
She gritted her teeth when he pulled the dagger out, eyes watering with the combined pain of the nasty cut on her face, her ribs (although with the way it hurt to breathe Arya wouldn't be suprised if some were broken), and the stab wound on her leg.
"T-thanks for help—-you know magic?!?!"
Well isn't this day just full of surprises. 
One arm was protectively guarding her ribs, and one arm she had around Lowen, trying to keep from collapsing.


They finally reached the cabin, and Arya opened the door.
"My medical supplies are under the couch."
Her skin had taken on a strange hue.
"I hope you kept the knife...I have a feeling that Vae wouldn't just throw a knife at me unless it had poison."

[MorningStar]

Panicking at the strange hue in Arya's complexion, Lowen hastily positioned her on the couch. Kneeling beside her, he inspected the cut on her leg, anxiety evident in his eyes. Lacking knowledge about poison, a desperate idea struck him.

"This is going to be weird," he told her, "but stay with me."

With a somewhat comical determination, Lowen leaned down and began an earnest attempt to suck the poison from Arya's leg. Each attempt was met with a theatrical spit, as if trying to rid himself of the supposed venom. Despite the gravity of the situation, the scene unfolded in a slightly humorous manner, showcasing Lowen's earnest but misguided efforts to counteract the poison.

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya watched as Lowen knelt beside her and tried to...suck the poison out of her leg...
Arya, despite the pain she was in, tried to hide the smile that was threatening to burst on her face.
Trying to stay stern, she glared down at Lowen.
"I don't think that's how that works—-Lowen! That tickles!"
And she failed to hide the laugh that burst from her, which reminded her of her injured ribs.

[MorningStar]

She was laughing..? Here he was, trying to suck poison out of her legs, and she was laughing!

"Oh, be quiet," he whispered, though unable to hide the grin tugging at his lips.

Flushed with embarrassment after Arya's laughter, Lowen couldn't help but feel a warmth within as he realized he had managed to bring a smile to her face. Collecting himself, he reached under her couch for the supplies she had mentioned.

Focused and determined, Lowen found the necessary medical items to address the poison within Arya. With a steady hand, he got to work, administering the antidote and tending to her wound. Throughout the process, he would occasionally glance up at Arya, offering silent reassurance and ensuring her comfort in the midst of the remedy.

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya, at his admonition to be quiet, only started laughing more. She finally got control of herself.
"I'm not laughing at you, I promise."
She grew slightly contemplative.
"Wait, back at the shop...you said you felt him? Felt him how? Was he talking to you—-OW—-sorry, that just kinda hurt."
She placed a hand on Lowen's shoulder.
"Thank you. For helping me."

[MorningStar]

With a gentle touch, Lowen shifted his focus to the cut on Arya's face. Leaning in with controlled breathing, he used the medical supplies to delicately tend to the wound. Close to her face, a mix of concern and warmth reflected in his eyes, and a subtle smile played on his lips. The moment almost felt intimate in a certain fashion, though not one Lowen wished to repeat given the condition she was in.

"I, um," he started softly, trying to focus on her wounds above all else. "I was conscious. I can't explain it, but.. it was like I was there and unable to control my body. Ipsen is a real piece of work, isn't he?"

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya winced as Lowen tended to the cut on her face.

"Ipsen is a piece of work," Arya replied thoughtfully.
"What if—-do you think you can purposefully trigger Ipsen? I think the only way we can solve this is if I talk to him, or at least, try to talk to him. I can handle him."

"So...when Ipsen was in control at the shop...do you remember any of it?"

[MorningStar]

Lowen maintained his steady focus on treating Arya's cuts on her face. With meticulous care, he cleaned the wounds using antiseptic wipes, ensuring the removal of any debris. As he worked, his controlled breathing added a sense of calm to the atmosphere.

"When I came to, he was holding that vial," he said in a gentle tone. "It was as if I was a spectator in his game."

Turning his attention to the minor cuts, Lowen reached for a small tube containing a healing balm. "This will sting a bit," he gently warned, applying the balm with a feather-light touch to soothe the wounds.

"I'm not sure if I can trigger him," he then said. "And I don't know if I want to after what I saw."

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya desperately prayed to whatever gods were up there that Lowen wouldn't take what she was about to say personally.
Please understand please understand... she thought to herself.
"But what if I wanted to trigger him? What, is poor old Ipsen scared after that whole incident at the shop? Scared I could easily beat some fucking sense into him?" She settled back into the couch, looking bored.
"It's probably for the best. I don't fight cowards."

[MorningStar]

As Lowen attentively tended to Arya's wounds, a frown etched on his face, her sudden outburst towards his alter ego Ipsen caught him off guard. Trying to concentrate on the task at hand, a thunderous pain began to sporadically gnaw at his head. Each pulse seemed to synchronize with the conflicting emotions and tensions in the air. Despite the pain, Lowen persisted in his care for Arya, determined to provide comfort amidst the storm brewing within him.

"Hold still," he tried to say through the seething ache at the back of his head.

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya was determined to lure Ipsen out.
"What, too cowardly to fight?"
She gritted her teeth. The antiseptic he was putting on the cuts hurt.
"Look at me. Ipsen, I know you can hear me. Come out and fight, if you dare."