[ the situation reminds her much too much of the time she was being offered up as a sacrifice to the coven. that association alone is enough to have zita pushing herself out of bed in an attempt to escape the strange room, her vision suddenly tumbling and spinning as the stranger throws themselves at her and they both fall to the floor.
zita is suddenly aware of a sharp and intense pain that blooms somewhere on her back. it hurts. it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurts and the pain and the fear and the anger is all she can think of as she tries to throw the person off of her, viciously elbowing from behind as she tries to scramble back up to her knees.
she's not going to die here. the others back at the carnival- curtis and henry- penelope and diane- she's not going to die here and leave them alone- ]
Get off of me! [ she kicks. she screams. she makes enough noise and fuss that she hopes someone hears what's going on to try and help. at least investigate so she can have some distraction. she struggles with the assailant when she feels them make a grab for the dagger that must still be embedded in her back. the attempt to twist it out has her both seeing stars and renewing her resolve. ] Let me go!
ii;; into the fire.
[ but the evening only progresses from there.
the moment she hears a woman cry out about her sister being, she knows she has to do something. her back still aches from the stab that should, in theory, have 'killed' her and put her out of commission, but she's still standing and there are others in need.
the moment she gets to the bazaar, she knows what she wants to do despite her heart hammering in her chest. zita grabs the nearest bucket of water that isn't being used by others. (meaning, more likely than not, she simply grabbed the bucket of water from someone's hands before they could throw it.) she upturns it on herself and is soon drenched from head to toe, soaking her thin form within seconds.
and, with that, she dashes off into the nearest building that is still full of cries for help and mercy. it's clear she doesn't have a plan but she definitely makes up for it with determination. ]
iii;; burning the midnight oil.
[ at the dining hall of the queen's residence, zita is finally at her (proper) element.
it doesn't take long for zita to figure out who is in charge of the more-or-less field hospital. from the demonstration of her healing powers to the revealing of the jewel she's carrying when she shows it to them, the healer in charge is quick to put zita to work and work zita does.
she's a mostly hands on individual, personally seeing to the wounded and trying to give them comfort by speaking with them and healing them through physical contact of her magic. she also helps do inventory on the supplies of medicine and bandages there, keeping a sharp eye on the dwindling supplies and sending messages to the head healer to give her updates and alerts to anything that may require her call.
eventually, she ends up speaking with someone new. they don't seem to be injured or hurt as the others, but zita wants to be sure of that so she's trying to engage with them, see how they're faring in the light of the events they were all thrown in, more or less. ]
-Are you alright? [ zita is exhausted but she does her best to ignore it, wanting to focus her concern and attention on the individual she's speaking with. ] Do you need any help in anything?
iv;;; wildcard!!
[ want to do something else? feel free to do it here! also, you’re welcome to hit me up/plot with me via my plurk prognostic if there’s something specific you want. and if your character happen to be a magical individual or carries magical items on them, please take a minute to head on over to this permission post on zita's journal on whether or not she can detect them or their items. ]
no subject
warnings for violence.
[ the situation reminds her much too much of the time she was being offered up as a sacrifice to the coven. that association alone is enough to have zita pushing herself out of bed in an attempt to escape the strange room, her vision suddenly tumbling and spinning as the stranger throws themselves at her and they both fall to the floor.
zita is suddenly aware of a sharp and intense pain that blooms somewhere on her back. it hurts. it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurts and the pain and the fear and the anger is all she can think of as she tries to throw the person off of her, viciously elbowing from behind as she tries to scramble back up to her knees.
she's not going to die here. the others back at the carnival- curtis and henry- penelope and diane- she's not going to die here and leave them alone- ]
Get off of me! [ she kicks. she screams. she makes enough noise and fuss that she hopes someone hears what's going on to try and help. at least investigate so she can have some distraction. she struggles with the assailant when she feels them make a grab for the dagger that must still be embedded in her back. the attempt to twist it out has her both seeing stars and renewing her resolve. ] Let me go!
ii;; into the fire.
[ but the evening only progresses from there.
the moment she hears a woman cry out about her sister being, she knows she has to do something. her back still aches from the stab that should, in theory, have 'killed' her and put her out of commission, but she's still standing and there are others in need.
the moment she gets to the bazaar, she knows what she wants to do despite her heart hammering in her chest. zita grabs the nearest bucket of water that isn't being used by others. (meaning, more likely than not, she simply grabbed the bucket of water from someone's hands before they could throw it.) she upturns it on herself and is soon drenched from head to toe, soaking her thin form within seconds.
and, with that, she dashes off into the nearest building that is still full of cries for help and mercy. it's clear she doesn't have a plan but she definitely makes up for it with determination. ]
iii;; burning the midnight oil.
[ at the dining hall of the queen's residence, zita is finally at her (proper) element.
it doesn't take long for zita to figure out who is in charge of the more-or-less field hospital. from the demonstration of her healing powers to the revealing of the jewel she's carrying when she shows it to them, the healer in charge is quick to put zita to work and work zita does.
she's a mostly hands on individual, personally seeing to the wounded and trying to give them comfort by speaking with them and healing them through physical contact of her magic. she also helps do inventory on the supplies of medicine and bandages there, keeping a sharp eye on the dwindling supplies and sending messages to the head healer to give her updates and alerts to anything that may require her call.
eventually, she ends up speaking with someone new. they don't seem to be injured or hurt as the others, but zita wants to be sure of that so she's trying to engage with them, see how they're faring in the light of the events they were all thrown in, more or less. ]
-Are you alright? [ zita is exhausted but she does her best to ignore it, wanting to focus her concern and attention on the individual she's speaking with. ] Do you need any help in anything?
iv;;; wildcard!!
[ want to do something else? feel free to do it here! also, you’re welcome to hit me up/plot with me via my plurk prognostic if there’s something specific you want. and if your character happen to be a magical individual or carries magical items on them, please take a minute to head on over to this permission post on zita's journal on whether or not she can detect them or their items. ]