Strength. Ha. She had already proven herself not nearly strong enough to even get him to his feet without him having to cradle against the wall. Perhaps she should call for another — Tidus, maybe, was the first that came to mind. But he was busy too. They were all busy rescuing those lost to the void, flickering in and out of their worlds onto the platform and then onto another.
"None before you." So far as she was aware. And she would be aware, wouldn't she? So diligently keeping records of those aboard, those who were retrieved, those whose names found a symbol beside them marking their end. Elidibus' words are comforting, in a way, but not enough to assuage the endless turmoil that frothed inside her. It was not his fault — she was always like this. Always staring death in the face and wondering if it was her fault even when, logically, she knew there was nothing to be done. She had not pushed him to his death, she could not read minds. But logic had no room to breathe with this particular subject.
She couldn't just...freak out, though. The Lunari took a deep breath and refocused, instinct drawing her mouth upwards at the corners even if it was far too late for saccharine smiles. Her facade had already broken with the unshed tears and the damned telltale signs of her magic causing sparks to crackle along her skin; emotions worn on her sleeve in a very literal sense. But she tried regardless, because maybe it would help. Just a little.
"Regardless." She said, voice steady as the small hand that braced upon Elidibus' shoulder when he tipped, doubtful she'd do much to leverage him at all but trying despite it. "You were lost, and you need to be tended to. The medical bay is —" a beat, and one could almost see her mind whirling as she mentally shifted through the layout of the train she had only just begun to memorize. "Not far. Once you find your feet, we can take you there. Tell me what your ails are — lethargy, aches?" another silent and very obvious question: tell me how I can help you.
no subject
"None before you." So far as she was aware. And she would be aware, wouldn't she? So diligently keeping records of those aboard, those who were retrieved, those whose names found a symbol beside them marking their end. Elidibus' words are comforting, in a way, but not enough to assuage the endless turmoil that frothed inside her. It was not his fault — she was always like this. Always staring death in the face and wondering if it was her fault even when, logically, she knew there was nothing to be done. She had not pushed him to his death, she could not read minds. But logic had no room to breathe with this particular subject.
She couldn't just...freak out, though. The Lunari took a deep breath and refocused, instinct drawing her mouth upwards at the corners even if it was far too late for saccharine smiles. Her facade had already broken with the unshed tears and the damned telltale signs of her magic causing sparks to crackle along her skin; emotions worn on her sleeve in a very literal sense. But she tried regardless, because maybe it would help. Just a little.
"Regardless." She said, voice steady as the small hand that braced upon Elidibus' shoulder when he tipped, doubtful she'd do much to leverage him at all but trying despite it. "You were lost, and you need to be tended to. The medical bay is —" a beat, and one could almost see her mind whirling as she mentally shifted through the layout of the train she had only just begun to memorize. "Not far. Once you find your feet, we can take you there. Tell me what your ails are — lethargy, aches?" another silent and very obvious question: tell me how I can help you.