queenofheartsrp | ００１ ☠ video/action;

[She has not moved from the place where the Labyrinth finally spit her out, lying in the grass curled into herself. The vine has come to investigate, now that she has been returned to the Garden. Where has she been? Has she learned her lesson? Perhaps.

She's filthy. Her hair lank and knotted, her clothes muddied and ripped. With her arms wrapped around herself, she claws at her skin with blunted nails, keening miserably. She has hardly ceased since the storm ended.

She rocks back and forth, her forehead pressed into the dirt, and as she falls onto her side, the vine follows curiously. Her face is bruised and crusted with blood, wounds she had not felt at the time, and truly she does not feel them now.

The vines slithering finally draws her attention and she makes a low whimpering sound. Her face is dry of tears, at least. The dead do not cry in such a way, even if her mouth is trembling.

She stares at the vine a moment longer before she draws herself up and tries to slink away from its gaze, but it follows her. She gives up eventually, sinking back down at the base of a tree and hiding behind her drawn up knees. That same piercing little wail eventually begins again, muffled from within her protective huddle.]

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[She would like it, if Kuja did it. She trusts the witch, but she didn't want to assume, no. That wasn't polite.]

It's messy.

[She admits that up front.]

It bleeds, with each.

[She knows, she had helped Barbet with the others, when she was alive. She would sit and wipe up the blood in between injections. Barbet would fuss at her if she wasn't quick enough, because she was holding up his delicate work.]

Oh, my dear, if only you knew what messes I've witnessed, how much blood I've seen.

Such things are as nothing to me. Trifles barely worthy of my notice. [Kuja is far more willing to shed blood than to do something like display physical affection.]

Tell me precisely how it should be done.

[She gives Kuja a curious look at that, knows she doesn't really know that much about her, but figures there's time to ask.]

Mmm, I should... lie flat, and there should be good light. [She would have to watch how the bruise reacted to the quantity, how much the vaccine was effecting the patient overall; too much medicine easily became a poison. She also needed to keep an eye on Zinc herself, the process was not without pain, and with the way the virus controlled the flesh, it was inevitable she would twitch. The eyes were delicate, it would be terrible if the vaccine ended up in them.

She holds up one of the syringes.]

Pierce the skin, around the edges first. Inject a little.

[It takes her both hands to get it to give a little squirt.]

It's... delicate, and slow.

[It was difficult for her to be more precise than that. She wasn't Barbet.]

[Kuja listens, nodding. She's quick to learn, and she can be very good with her hands, when she needs to be. It's an interesting challenge.]

You'll need to move out from under this tree, if we're to commence. There's no sense in leaving you in this state any longer than is necessary.

[Zinc purses her lips, feeling nervous, like she'll let Kuja do this and suddenly Barbet will appear and be furious with her. She knows it's silly, there aren't any boys here and he wouldn't want her looking like this, it was horrible, but... It takes her a moment to get up, to move out into the sunlight to a place Kuja picks, lying back so her head is steady.]

All right...

Ah, my little fallen bird. You needn't worry, I'll fix your wing.

[She knows how to make living things from raw ingredients, so injecting a little vaccine into a body is no great challenge for her. Nor is the blood that stains her hands as she works, quickly and quietly, following the instructions she was given, her eyes bright.]

[Being a bird is so much nicer than being a zombie, and it's pathetically childish of her, but Zinc is obviously pleased with it. She's well used to being a pet, an animal. At least birds were lovely. Barbet had named himself after a bird.

Zinc does her best to hold still through all of this, she's glad that Kuja seems confident, at least. She twitches slightly, little jerks in her neck and the muscles around her eyes, it can't really be helped but hopefully she won't injure herself, and she'll be pretty enough to look at again soon.]

Kuja likes songbirds, pretty things that she can keep in cages. In the past, she may have been known to abduct such creatures, but of course, she's attempting to reform now, isn't she? To be a better person.

To be helpful, as she is now. The flesh that shakes beneath her hands is to be expected from a weak, mortal--or once-mortal--creature.]

Is that enough? You must tell me, so I don't go too far.

It's--

[She's quiet for a moment, swallowing against the pain in her face.]

All right. Is there much color left?

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