Camp Onyx

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Quote from Anto_Le_Honeypot >>

Quote from Gonzalo3 >>

Quote from Anto_Le_Honeypot >>

Quote from Gonzalo3 >>

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A muscular woman, age 16 is sitting on a log, wearing a crop top, and leather jacket crop top. She has heavy combat duty pants on, which are black with chrome zippers. Her eyes are tired, with large eye bags, and also a seemingly unlimited supply of energy drinks. Her is a shiny metallic glob, dripping, one large portion covering one eye. She has a wound, actively dripping, and she is focusing hard, seemingly trying to force the blood back in. After a few minutes, she gives up, and grabs a rusty piece of iron, before crushing it, and then extending it back out, removing the rust. She grabs her large military grade backpack, pulls out a sheet of metal, and holds it so tight it should cut her skin; but it simply doesn't. She chucks the metal, which, by a string of itself, is connected to her hand, and hits a tree, before pulling back the metal. Grabbing the other sheet, she places it on the wound, and absorbs it.

A teenaged girl wearing a flowy tan dress runs over with closed eyes. She stops before tye wounded girl, panting. “Oh my god- you’re hurt! I- what do I do?! Uh- can you understand what I’m saying?”

 She waves her hand haphazardly, as if not really worried, rolling her eyes, before kinda anxiously twitching her hand like she feels guilty but still not putting it down. "Relax. I'm fine... it's just... I mean not fun. But it's healing. Enough." The wound is completely covered in the metal sheet, which is now melding across the circumference of her forearm. "It'll just be... sore as [GP]..."

“Oh! That’s-“ She stumbles a bit, here eyes opening for a second and glowing white, before going back to normal. “… Hey, I think I can do something to speed up healing.”

 "Oh. Ah. Thanks. But like 'ill'it (will it) 'urt (hurt) you?" She stretches a bit.

“No. Not at all. At least, I don’t think so. If it does hurt, you don’t tell me, and I’m too scared to look now.”

 "Uh. Okay. Do it please." She cracks her knuckles, stretching her arms out, fingers pointed in, palms pointed out, before swiftly and smoothly putting her left arm out, forearm visible, and right behind her head.

She nods, and holds her hands out, and opening her eyes, the bright white glow once again emanating from her eyes. Her eyelids start to flutter, and the wound starts to flicker in and out of existence, almost as if being superimposed on a different, healthier version of her arm, befire fading altogether. 

Quote from Gonzalo3 >>

Quote from Anto_Le_Honeypot >>

Quote from Gonzalo3 >>

Quote from Anto_Le_Honeypot >>

Quote from Gonzalo3 >>

Quote from Anto_Le_Honeypot >>

Quote from Gonzalo3 >>

Quote from Anto_Le_Honeypot >>

A muscular woman, age 16 is sitting on a log, wearing a crop top, and leather jacket crop top. She has heavy combat duty pants on, which are black with chrome zippers. Her eyes are tired, with large eye bags, and also a seemingly unlimited supply of energy drinks. Her is a shiny metallic glob, dripping, one large portion covering one eye. She has a wound, actively dripping, and she is focusing hard, seemingly trying to force the blood back in. After a few minutes, she gives up, and grabs a rusty piece of iron, before crushing it, and then extending it back out, removing the rust. She grabs her large military grade backpack, pulls out a sheet of metal, and holds it so tight it should cut her skin; but it simply doesn't. She chucks the metal, which, by a string of itself, is connected to her hand, and hits a tree, before pulling back the metal. Grabbing the other sheet, she places it on the wound, and absorbs it.

A teenaged girl wearing a flowy tan dress runs over with closed eyes. She stops before tye wounded girl, panting. “Oh my god- you’re hurt! I- what do I do?! Uh- can you understand what I’m saying?”

 She waves her hand haphazardly, as if not really worried, rolling her eyes, before kinda anxiously twitching her hand like she feels guilty but still not putting it down. "Relax. I'm fine... it's just... I mean not fun. But it's healing. Enough." The wound is completely covered in the metal sheet, which is now melding across the circumference of her forearm. "It'll just be... sore as [GP]..."

“Oh! That’s-“ She stumbles a bit, here eyes opening for a second and glowing white, before going back to normal. “… Hey, I think I can do something to speed up healing.”

 "Oh. Ah. Thanks. But like 'ill'it (will it) 'urt (hurt) you?" She stretches a bit.

“No. Not at all. At least, I don’t think so. If it does hurt, you don’t tell me, and I’m too scared to look now.”

 "Uh. Okay. Do it please." She cracks her knuckles, stretching her arms out, fingers pointed in, palms pointed out, before swiftly and smoothly putting her left arm out, forearm visible, and right behind her head.

She nods, and holds her hands out, and opening her eyes, the bright white glow once again emanating from her eyes. Her eyelids start to flutter, and the wound starts to flicker in and out of existence, almost as if being superimposed on a different, healthier version of her arm, befire fading altogether. 

 She nods, looking down to her hand, and blinks, smiling.

*So like how does your power work? Does it project what you think is healthy, what I think is, what is healthy, a default state, prime state, or simply share the healthy part of a healthy reality without removing other things? As my powers resolve around absorbing metals and as such the body is a bit... weird.*