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Everything had blown up. And still stood. And people were dissippearing, and appearing. Some magically, others not. It was all confusing, overwhelming. Owle was.... first screaming, now... something was terribly wrong with her. This wasn't her. Maybe maddened by something, he'd seen nice people go berserk in a battle and suddenly be something that wouldn't normally be called human. But it wasn't her, she wasn't right.

But she had Flare, and was healthy. This other man, he'd just tried to blow the whole place to bits, but Kalis wasn't going to just watch him bleed to death for immeasurable stupidty. He'd been trying to be helpful- well... at least, that'd been the initial impression. He could kill him, but wouldn't.

But despite all these unworldly powers moving, twisting, changing things, he seemed to be injured yet. That, Kalis went to fix it.

No Kalis had a better idea. He could hit this guy in the face a few times later if he survived.

He moved quickly around the mess of obstructions, out to the unconcious man. Which he checked, kneeling down next to him. He would have enjoyed giving him a good blow to the face to put him out for what he was about to do if he hadn't been.
Kalis did something not usually advisable, grabbing bits of shrapnel and odd things sticking out, ripping them from the man's body with his hands, taking care enough that he shouldn't rupture any major veins, vessels, or organs that weren't already. Pullling anything out by hand risked making it worse, but reaching into bloody holes or grabbing things sticking out and removing them, was about all at Kalis disposal. Hands covered in bloody, he bent over the man, mind wrapped determindly in the task, focusing enough to drive out the rest of the world in order to keep on task.

Hands slick with dark blood, he tossed the last foriegn object aside, and wiped sweat from somewhere between local heat and tensing up off his brow, streaking blood inadvertently across his forehead.

Then came the saving grace. Kalis was no doctor, no real field medic. He had the 'magic' that was him attempting to tame the energy provided by the Chaos, assisted only by the time and amount of use he'd had of it. And of course, the deep, natural bond between him and the malevolent force.

That's right, malevolent. Not benevolent. It couldn't heal.

Focusing harder, Kalis brought forth just heat, leaving off the rest, extreme heat coming from his hand drying the blood on it, burning his own skin, and making the air shimmer and glow ever so slightly. He put his nearly-flame wreathed hand on the man, and scorched Jack, cauterizing the wounds. It wasn't a pleasant type business. Cauterizing was, put simply, ******** somebody up worse to keep them alive. And Jack was pretty much FUBAR already. In anycase, it'd be a long time 'til he woke up naturally, and that'd be with stiff little holes and injuries that he risked cracking open if he moved too much, feeling overwhelmingly shitty despite how a good half of the wounds would be lucky enough to have nerves killed so the burns wouldn't scream bloody murder through his brain as soon as he awoke. Lucky, as going into shock when half dead, when the injury was long enough ago that medical help might not be waiting on you or on its way, was not a good way to keep alive.

That done as well, Kalis hands would be wrapped in gritty, ugly black of dried blood and his own burnt skin, which was actually flaming red underneath, not black at all, but covered rather well.

-THWACK!-

Jack would wake up with a headache on top of it all, and three black lines and a black dot on the middle of his forehead, overtop all the bloodiness.

If none of these extradimensional forces held Jack in place, he'd be dragged in doors and laid out on a table, then left be. If he was held in place, Kalis would leave it alone.

After those burns, a tan wouldn't hurt him.

Which left Owle.

"Owle..." no, probably not the best place to direct the question. He turned his eyes at Flare. "...has this happened before? She's going to be alright eventually, right?" calm, he wasn't freaking out anymore. Shakey, but calm. He was still holding up tension before he could let out all the stress in one deep breath and go nap on a couch somewhere.

Jack's steel blue orbs opened. Pain, just more pain. It was all relevant now. Pain, what was he?

A ******** up.

Jack had one friend, he almost killed that friend. He had no past, but he knew how to talk. He didn't know where he was, except that he almost blew it up.

"Wh-"

Pain choked him, or was that blood in his lungs? Jack couldn't tell, he really didn't care. He tried to talk, almost forced it out. He wasn't even sure of his name now. He wanted to ask someone. The man with no name and an ugly sight too boot.

A cough.

More pain.

Blood spilt out of his mouth.

He'd try again later, staring upwards at something undeterminable. He had no concept of where he was, those burns frying nerve endings that should have given him an idea of where he was. Even with the meta-human magic of making his physicals at a level where no one could imagine, he'd felt implosion and burning of the soul moments before his body was just cooked.

Pain. That's all there was.

Pain.

Relief flooded through her. Owle would be alright.

"You were acting like a-!"

Like a what?

"Ergh," Flare growled. "There are people in need of healing and you're playing some stupid game! Get to it!"

And that was that. Flare turned to face Kalis. "Are you injured? I saw Athan take a bullet and a few chairs, but it looks like Jack needs tending to, first. I honestly think it would be more a favor to him to end his misery, but...in present company, I suppose that's not a viable suggestion, is it?"

She raised one eyebrow at him, as if inviting him to contradict her on the fact.

Whatever Jack had done had somehow, however indirectly, harmed the girl greatly. They were fortunate it hadn't killed them all outright. Flare had no idea if he were friend or foe at this point, whatever Owle thought of him, and had a feeling it would be wiser to stick a rapier in his throat. Then, if he were a foe, he would at least be a dead one.

"Don't be upset," Owle said, standing and wobbling toward Kalis, throwing an arm around him for support. Or maybe it was a hug, it was hard to tell. Either way, she definitely felt like she'd fall down if he shrugged out of her grip. "We're...buddies, right? So don't be upset. Here, have a..."

She held her hand out for a minute, staring at it. Within moments, a five foot long wooden staff had appeared there. Owle kept staring at it, like she couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"A stick!" she declared at last, handing it over to Kalis or leaning it up against him if he refused to take it. "Have a stick!"

She reeled around when Flare started yelling at her, and Jack was discussed. It didn't take too long to find him in the room. "Whass he doing here? Didn' he go boom boom dead splat?"

She went stumbling over to him, and, if no one stopped her, would just plain fall over next to him and start poking to him. "Hey...e's alive...ow'd he do tat?"

Blood spilling from his mouth, and Jack not really feeling much from the burns, except that same constant flow of pain, he really didn't notice someone was talking to him. Wait.. was he Jack? There was that name again, floating around in his thoughts like it were someone else.

Pain.

The man's head turned towards a blurred figure, something close. Was it close, that noise was familiar.

"AAHHHHHH!!!"

His back arched and he screamed in another fit of pain, internal and out. It was the price of regaining some conciencness. Unfortunatly for him, Owle's mere presence and voice would remind him of what he had done and bring him slightly concious even in the worse of pain.

Owle looked up at Kalis as he walked over, a huge grin on her face. "He makes funny noises!" she exclaimed in delight, then poked Jack again.

"You're all dirty," she told Jack, and grabbed a napkin that had spilled onto the floor during a fight to wipe the blood away from his mouth. "We should get you a bath. Say, do you do any tricks? I can fold a piece of paper into a box! Wanna see?"

Flare would contact his family. That was why she was going through his wallet for identification, shoving it into her pouch for now to keep it intact. She would send his ashes in a nice little urn to his family with a nice little letter about how he had suddenly had a heart attack in their bar and died, their condolences. She just didn't want to be detained to answer questions about it.

"I'll gag him when I'm done burning this one," Flare answered Kalis's complaint.

In a few moments she was having a nice little bonfire on the beach.

Kalis, a touch grim about it all, looked at Owle quite seriously, as if honestly pondering through her question, then looked at Jack for a long moment. And then he couldn't resist himself.

"Maybe." he responded.

And took the staff out from under his arm with an absolutely straight face, nudging Jack firmly in the ribs with one end.

He was generally a nice guy, but it'd be a lie to say he couldn't be a bit vindictive.