Witch Hunt (Beyril and Atlas; Private; Possible Gore)

The shift was almost instantaneous; a glowing light enveloping the blonde as she took shape in his hand. Blackened like ebony, she gnarled and twisted, growing tall and proud with opalescent veins in the cracks of the wood. The end branched out in a tangle of briared thorns enclosing a solid opal the size of his fist. It was hot, and crackled like embers, but the regality of it couldn't be denied.

Ezra rolled the staff in his palms, admiring the warmth of the wood as it ran over his fingers. The cracks hummed with Crimson energy, blurring into a thin haze as he spun the weapon over and again. Gripping the handle, the weapon braced one hand against Harrison's shoulder, waving the thorn-spun opal over the wound.

"You are going to hate me for this," Ezra admitted, his lips setting into a grimace. "Godspeed, brother." Without hesitation, he thrust the staff forwards and a burning aura leapt from the head, settling over the wound like a fog. The effect was instantaneous as the haze seared the wound, licking at the flesh like a flame creeping over dried brush. The string of curses falling from Harrison's lips was every bit as heated as the scalding heat settling over his shoulder.

"Swearing like a sailor," Ezra said with a bitter laugh. "Perhaps that little girlfriend of yours wasn't wrong to call you the nautical technician after all."

Addy hated to be the source of pain for someone who just assisted her, but truly it was for the best. Addy shifted back, gingerly laying a hand on the other shoulder, "Sorry..." She murmured, not very good at the whole... Apologetic thing.

"He'll be fine," Ezra assured her, releasing her to allow for phasing back to a human form. Tearing a strip of cloth from the meister's shirt with a hushed apology, he tied it off over the wound in a crude dressing. "He has thick skin, in a figurative and...painfully literal sense."

"I would take...what he says...with a grain of salt," Harrison murmured, hands braced against the floor as he roused from the bleary haze threatening to overtake him. "He can be...a hell of a bad influence."

"At least I would be around to be an influence," Ezra spat through gritted teeth, tugging the knot holding the dressing tighter, prompting a fresh string of curses from his brother.

Addy walked back over to the strut where she had left the leather jacked, picking it up and draping it over her arm, "I should probably head back to the academy... I think I might have class with one of you... I think it's you, Harrison." she shrugged, "I'll get the jacket back to you once it's fixed." She nodded her head to each of them, "I'll see you around?" Her gray eyes seemed to straddle the space between them, lingering between the black and white. It was oddly poetic, and even she had to admit that a little to herself.

Ezra's hardened glare softened as the weapon extended a hand, pulling his brother to his feet. Harrison bowed his shoulders, stretching and letting one hand tenderly run across the ragged cloth bandage. His eyes found his partner's, holding for a moment before nodding curtly at him.

"We'll definitely be seeing each other," Ezra agreed, absentmindedly tugging at the thin, silver chain running beneath his shirt. "I'm gonna get him to a healer and see what they can do. Don't be surprised if he misses class, but don't be surprised if he doesn't. He's..." The weapon smirked, searching for the word. "...stubborn. Reliable, but stubborn."

"So don't be surprised regardless..?" she teased, "I'll see you guys around. If you decide to pop by, I'm just a block away from the academy. The big brick building with the upside down two." she waved, then made her way down the clock tower.

Ezra peered through the open clock face as she shimmied down the tower, her descent surprisingly graceful, given the architecture. Wind whistled through the opening, like a muffled howl escaping the jagged maw of glass and stone threatening to consume them. Weariness settled on him like a cloak, prompting the weapon to lean into the stone wall, sliding to the floor beside Harrison. Eyes closed as he set his head back against the stonework, drawing his knees to his chest. "She's nice," he admitted, rubbing his temples. "You could use more friends like her."

"And you could use more friends in general," Harrison retorted simply, shrugging with a slight wince. "I'm pretty damn sure you don't enjoy my company that much."

Ezra shrugged, though a grin had erred perilously close to his lips. "You're a right pain in the ass, but you're a good partner. You'd be even better if you learned to loosen up."

"Can we save the sentiment and critiquing for after we get to a hospital? This wound isn't going to magically close itself and I need to get to class without bleeding all through the DWMA."

"As per usual, your priorities are as lopsided as your personality," Ezra laughed, pulling Harrison to his feet, slinging one of the meister's arms over his shoulder. "With any luck, I can still get lunch before Mi Casita closes. What, uh...what time is it?"

Harrison turned to glare at his brother, eyes moving between him and the shattered clock face. "You know, I really do hate you sometimes..."