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By the time Luke had pulled all these things from his pockets, Owle would already be in conversation with Kalis, her back turned to the new aquaintance.

She smiled when Kalis patted her shoulder, letting out a deep breath and trying to force the tension out of her with it. "Yeah...well, I guess I'd better see to her, then."

And she turned to trudge up the stairs, catching Luke's eye on the way. "Oh! Don't worry, I have my own bandages and things upstairs..."

She had finally noticed what he was holding out to her, and, to tell the truth, she felt a little embarrassed. She hadn't even planned to wrap up her burned arms...she was used to burns, so much so that she was willing to just wait till they went away. It took extra encouragement to get her to do something about them.

"Thanks, though."

And with that, she walked up the stairs, searching in the empty rooms until she came to the one Rain and Kira were in.

"How is she?"

Owle quietly entered the room behind Rain, moving to stand nearby him and stare down at the prone figure on the bed.

Luke just figured that burns and goop weren't too tasty looking to the passing eye, so.. Yeah. He'd follow her up the stairs, walking behind her, but not following her upstairs, upstairs. No, the boy hung about the lobby, running a hand through his hair, lank and slightly greasy... A frown, as he contemplates this, before promptly following Owle with a lateness to his steps, a haste. However, he did not follow her exactly, but hunted down an empty room. Once inside, he'd lock the door and peruse the bathroom, creating a boiling hot shower in which to make himself beautiful again.

"Made her stop feeling, huh? With your mind?" Rain looked from Owle back to Kira, frowning slightly. He had an idea, but he wasn't sure if it would work. If Owle herself wasn't sure, he really didn't have much to lose. As far as Rain was still concerned, Kira was a human, or close enough to one, and warm-blooded, and her current body temperature would normally mean death was just around the corner.

"Help me sit her up for a second." He slipped one arm beneath Kira's back, and started to sit her straight up. He could do this with little difficulty, but he would need Owle's help to keep her propped up. Once he got her up, he would tilt her chin upwards slightly, so she was looking straight forwards. "Keep her like this for a few seconds, please."

Assuming Owle didn't have any complaints to voice and went along with Rain's instructions, he would stand up perpendicular to the woman's left side, and began a tantric breathing exercise to still his mind, arms locked straight, facing down towards the ground with his palms parallel to the floor.

"I'm going to try to clear her mind." He would leave it at that, since it would just take way too long, when showing would just save time.

The visual component would probably be all Owle would catch, as Rain rose his right arm suddenly, holding it over his head; his arm was bent at the elbow, his forearm and flat hand straight, lined up perfectly with the top of Kira's skull.

He would thrust his arm down, the tip of his middle finger being the contact point with the direct center of her skull, and withdrawing it just as quickly. The point of her Sahasrara chakra. Despite the rather sharp and sudden thrust of his arm, there was minimal force with the blow, but Rain would be the only one to notice that in the room, the only other person being comatose at the moment.

The reason for the sharpness of the blow was mostly in part of Rain's incomplete training. He understood the basics of the flow and manipulation of his ki, but could not do it with the ease that most experts in martial arts could. He had sent a tiny amount through his fingertip, and the only way he could get it through Kira's own life energy, or ki, was to knock it in before it dissipated against her own innate spirital aura.

What this would do for Kira would basically be akin to a reset button. It would clear her mind of all thoughts, leaving only the basic involuntary body functions operating for about one second. It wasn't harmful per say; one of the uses of this strike was to clear a person's short-term memory completely, a temporary amnesia if you will. They wouldn't forget stuff they already knew, but stuff plagueing their thoughts, as well as important facts about the here and now, were lost and had to be taken in all over again. It was useful in combat for disorienting a foe, leaving them momentarily stunned. It could also cease the flow of adrenaline in the brain, but that too was not an issue, since Kira was in a sort of coma.

What Owle would feel would be Kira's body lock up for a second, then go as limp as she was before. This lock-up was a result of the brain sending a massive "HOLD YOUR HORSES" order to all nonvital parts of the body, primarily the muscular system. Heart rate, breathing rhythm, all would, or should, return to what would be normal for Kira's body at rest.

This is, of course, all pending on how Kira, as a dragon polymorphed into a human, would react to a chakra atemi strike. This technique was designed to work on humans and similar humanoids, so the actual effect would be up to her. If she would be completely uneffected, there would be no lock up, no hard reset, just a soft sore spot on the top of her skull when she would finally come to.

Owle's eyes widened as she realized he was taking aim at Kira for a strike.

"I'm not sure hitting her is the best way to-!"

But by the time the words escaped her lips, the deed was done. Owle quieted, and stared at Rain.

"The hell? You really think hitting someone in a coma in the head is going to help snap them out of it?" Her voice grew strident, unbelieving. She'd seen some weird things, but this was just...silly. People weren't like TV sets on old cartoons; you couldn't just whack them one and expect them to work again.

The room acrossed the way would open in a smokescreen of steam, smelling of manly scented bodywash and shampoo, before... Dazzle dazzle, shine shine~!

Fresh and hot out of a shower, Luke appeared again, still the scruffy man-boy from before, appearing mature, muscular... Manly! But at the same time, so very, very, very boyish in his impulsive, brash attitude, and slightly boyish face. Glasses were held in hand as he de-fogged them on a black muscle shirt, sitting atop baggy blue-jeans held by a belt that had seen wear and tear, and thus dangled... limply betwixt his legs. He was King Comforticus, and nobody could change him. Shoes? Laces tied and thrown over a shoulder. He figured he should trash them. The things truly had seen hell and back, and he felt he should give them final peace. But his attention was quite caught as he heard Owle and others.

Head would poke in an innocent manner, peeking for fireballs and arrers aimed at himself before walking in quietly, and watching for a moment. After this cursory moment, Luke would move and sit on the opposite edge of the bed, looking into the lady's face, rather close and intently, as if to say 'Well if you're going to spook me, now's the time to do it!' And indeed, such an action would be flawless. It would be hilarious. But, even to the man-boy, there was a seriousness to his actions...

And then, suddenly, the boy would yawn, right up close to the lady's face. Then he'd nuzzle, and peek at Owle. All of his actions were done whether or not people had tried to stop him.

"She's tired." He says simply. "Her Winds are gone, but like yours were earlier. I can siphon some of mine if you'd like her awake sooner, but she'll still need to sleep." The boy had had ADHD in his world... What he had now... Well, it could be considered ten times worse, unchecked. He was a generator of body-heat when it required it, and he had energy. Untold ammounts of it, packed into his very fibre.

"Um... any soup would be appreciated. Thank you sir." Jhaun spoke in similar volume back to the man watching him. It was distracted, because he still didn't fully pull his attention away from the book he was reading. Old English was not something often used in the typical spell caster's book, as Latin and far Eastern languages were typically the norm. This particular book came about by some odd fashion and taught Mellancamp quite abit about the dark arts.

Old English being quite different from modern, spells such as ""Blōdrēad hēardecg" would not be recognizable by any common speaker. Jhaun was an aristocrat on the other hand, and had learned some of the Old English in this book once at the academy his father had sent him.

>> << >> << Luke's mun had asked on the OOC forum. They had said twelve posts, and it had been six, so he figured it could be a fast one! Dx BLAH! But none the less, Luke attempts to step around her, only to be moved with.

He'd pause, index and middle finger to lips, and then look down to her, as if seriously contemplating the answer.

"Being curious, I think. I heard you guys talking. Her vitals are steady, nothing -appears- to be wrong, except, given, slight meta-human physiologicals... So you have to ask yourself. When one is immobile, appearing to be passed out, what's usually the problem? They're usually unconscious." Annoyance succeeds his tone. Raised by a nurse, the boy knew the basics.

"Her winds have stopped, like yours did earlier. Honestly, if you ask me, She's just tired." He seemed to like Owle, in that odd, annoying kid sense. She meant good in everything, she was just... too busy! He'd laugh to himself about this one, grinning in a manner that only seemed to heighten his goofy, awkward attractiveness. "There was a tourney or something right? And ya'll just came from it?" He said these things in the hopes that comprehension would dawn. Pockets are filled with hands as he'd slump, peering at Owle in a manner that suggested he was studying her. Her stance, her motions... The whole nine.