The Midnight Sun

Selene approaches Naoki. Waiting for an appropriate time to interject herself, to avoid interrupting her, she appears to linger about, until the empress finishes. "Hello, Empress Naoki." She said calmly. "Apologies for cutting to the chase, but I think I can help this catastrophe, and quite a bit so." She said confidently.

“Hello, Selene.” Naoki is somehow unsurprised to see Selene or her outrageous getup. Preoccupied as she is, the outfit earns only a cursory once-over.

“How is that?” The Empress is unamused, skeptical of what Selene could have to offer in this situation.

"Arya Shieldheart," she said, introducing herself as she began to heal him. Her smile quickly faded into a slightly concerned one though as she began healing him. He was requiring more magic than she had initially intended to heal him, but now that she had cast the spell, it was too late to turn back. She gritted her teeth as her vision blackened around the edges, maintaining consciousness through sheer willpower as his leg healed.

It was clear as day that she wasn't well, however. While Merric had stepped back from the precipice of unconsciousness, Arya found herself dangerously close.

She heard him speaking to her, but his words seemed distant, quiet. She lurched forward then suddenly, her hand reaching out instinctively to catch herself, though she found nothing as she lost her balance. 

The Empress blinks, looks at The Midnight Sun, and then back to Selene.

“That’s wonderful.” Her delivery is deadpan. “I can juggle.”

After a moment’s pause, The Empress continues, “The situation is well in hand. The Inquisition will be handling the investigation, and if you’d like to participate in the rebuild, you should speak to the construction manager when the time comes — I’m afraid you’re a bit early for that.”

Boots on cobblestone were lost to the rumblings of activity around the Midnight Sun, even as throngs of Isran citizens gathered around. Murmurs discussing the recent news ran like wildfire, and it was no surprise they had reached the ears of the Church. After all, many sought refuge in confusion and fear and there was no shortage of such ingredients in the wake of disaster. A cloud hung over the city, as potent as the acrid smell of burned flesh and alcohol which hung like a miasma over the few surrounding blocks. This was no accident, that much had seemed immediately clear.

Archbishop Alured drew suspicious glares as he strode purposefully down the street. Masked, clad in dark clothes, it was no surprise such a sketchy appearance might draw a few undesirable accusations. However, behind him trailed three of the similarly drab garb of priests. Each carried wooden crates of gauze and alcohol, painted with the holy symbol of Varafel.

When the Archbishop at last arrived at the barricade of guards he loomed over them, looking between the faces as if he might be able to tell at a glance which might be higher ranked. Settling on one at random, he turned his full attention upon him.

"The Church of Varafel offers its talented healers, supplies and, in the worst cases, prayers. Who is in charge here?"

A commotion near the barricade spanning Moloch Street draws Iulia over. Up she clambers onto the wagons and carriages parked end to end forming the barrier between street and crime scene. A band of figures bearing items emblazoned with Varafel’s mark show their allegiance. The Investigator recognizes the Archbishop immediately, his being a difficult figure to confuse for another. A few guards at The Square counted themselves as members of his parish, and Iulia had humored a colleague by attending service before. While not exactly her particular brand of faith, the Church did good work in the surrounding community. They were respectable and fairly harmless.

From her vantage point, Iulia looks down towards the Archbishop and bows slightly.

“Good afternoon, Mr Norian. Investigator Iulia Iotapa here, I’m the lead officer at this scene today.”

With a gesture from Iulia, the guards standing between the Archbishop and his entourage step aside.

“Please have your followers report to the field hospital for assignment. The Guard thanks you for your assistance.”

Another voice calls out through the crowds as the faithful make their way towards the injured. A bluish tinted man shouts about being a ‘retainer’ of the Empress. Iulia walks over top the barricade to stand closer to the individual. She points down at Whir to address him.

“You there, you say you are in the employ of the Empress? Would you happen to have any paperwork or sign of your employment?”

The vast multitude of faces at the scene is a logistical and administrative nightmare. The distinct possibility that the attacker was hidden amongst the injured, or posing as one of the relief workers or ‘innocent bystanders’ who ‘thought it best to help out’, loomed large. Could one of the Archbishop's flock be capable of such an attack? A mental note to assign a guard to closely watch the faithful crosses Iulia’s mind before she stares Whir down, waiting for a response.

Crouched beside her he would not allow her to remain in such a position without the reassurance that someone would assist her as well. Her cries were wails he himself well understood as his intentions sometimes carried himself to far. To abandon others was not the thing of nobles but the courage to try and try again existed in the woman before him. She had healed him and he regained his strength through her healing. His power had not been diminished only his ferocity through blood loss in the instant that he had been trapped. He was not himself just quite yet but he would not abandon others.

He swept her up if he was allowed to, resting her in his arms like she was a bride and facing her upright, “You know what you would tell others to do,” his voice was as gentle as an evening breeze but deep and strong like the ones of mountains, “You would tell them to rest, to recover themselves for you are of no help to others in such a state. As you have helped me I shall take your stead until you are ready to continue.”

There was no makeshift litter readily available as many were being brought in and out of the camp and even so his chair would be moved quietly by another. Therefore he found where supplies had been brought in. Rather large crates were in one corner that made a suitable chair like arrangement and he would gently place her on the edge of one. “Rest here, for a while, I will return to check on you when I can.”

If everyone who wasted her time apologized afterward… The Empress shrugs.

“Perhaps I’ll speak to you later regarding such matters; such a skill could be useful to Isra. … Until then,” With a nod, The Empress dismisses Selene.

This provides a moment of relative quiet. Naoki glances first to Kate and then around the area. The situation hasn’t changed much in the past minute, much to her dismay. A sound from the direction of the field hospital prompts her to cast a troubled look toward it. Despite the heavy Guard presence, the field hospital seems understaffed. It isn’t explicitly anyone’s responsibility to see that the wounded are cared for, so the task has fallen to the wayside.

“Why isn’t The Enclave here?” The Empress asks aloud, gesturing in frustration. Addressing her page, “See to it that Healers are sent here immediately.”

The page boy voices his understanding and runs off to relay the command. It isn’t far to The Citadel, and he’s a fast runner.

   "Paperwork, you say?" Whir takes a moment to remember the contents of his empty pack. "Unfortunately I do not."

   Whir suddenly realizes the difference in Naoki's title used between himself and the inspector. "Empress," he says to no one in particular. That might mean a lot has changed.

   "I haven't been around in a while-" he starts to explain his absence and perhaps what Naoki was producing his stipend for when he remembers the communication device that Takhana from the Sun Marshalls had given him. He had used it only when the blue-haired elf, Emahra, had coming plummeting from the sky into the middle of the market square a few days before he left for Port Isra. He looks back to Iulia, "could you give me just a minute?"

   He turns and walks a few paces from the barricade where the inspector was probably already being swept away by the tide of mayhem inside. He holds his hand to the earring and tries to use it like before. "Um. I'm not sure if this is still working, but I'm trying to contact Takhana Veil . I've arrived at The Midnight Sun and see it's been destroyed. If there's anything I can do for the organization, please do let me know. I'm at the barricade and a rather taciturn inspector is demanding papers of employment that I no longer have."

   Perhaps his message would get through and perhaps things had changed and it no longer would. He didn't particular posses any healing or magical skills, outside of being able to float, but even that might be useful in moving the injured without causing further damage to them or the building.

   He looked back to the barricade to see if Iulia was still waiting. If she were, he'd hold up his hand. "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to get in touch with my old handler, please don't allow me to take up more of your time just yet." He smiled, trying to be as friendly as possible. But for the chaos all around, it may have just worked.