The sorcerer gives a yelp, fully horrified now; even as there is a small part of him busily paying attention in the back of his mind, noting that did work like a charm actually, she didn’t react at all despite the deeper cut,
and he instantly interjects his hands in the way of the blade, preventing her from any more ill-advised slicing. If Ness won’t stop for herself, he’s certain she’ll stop for his own precious busted hands.
Once that movement is stilled, he knows he could try to wrestle her for the blade, but the easier solution is this: he severs his connection to the Fade. And the knife simply vanishes from her hand, winking out of existence, before he tugs on the magic again and it re-appears in his own hand while blood still wells up from the cut, rising like a tide, starting to spill over and drip down her arm.
Thanks to his initial placement, it’s well-situated enough that she didn’t nick an artery or vein, but it’s deep. Too deep. His movements quick, now launching back into a different autopilot, Strange slices through the white sleeve of his shirt and rips a whole strip loose, now reaching forward and starting to wind it around the girl’s forearm to try to stem the bleeding.
“You can’t feel a thing,” he chides, “which is not exactly the time to start carving a knife into yourself—”
cw self-harm, sort of
The sorcerer gives a yelp, fully horrified now; even as there is a small part of him busily paying attention in the back of his mind, noting that did work like a charm actually, she didn’t react at all despite the deeper cut,
and he instantly interjects his hands in the way of the blade, preventing her from any more ill-advised slicing. If Ness won’t stop for herself, he’s certain she’ll stop for his own precious busted hands.
Once that movement is stilled, he knows he could try to wrestle her for the blade, but the easier solution is this: he severs his connection to the Fade. And the knife simply vanishes from her hand, winking out of existence, before he tugs on the magic again and it re-appears in his own hand while blood still wells up from the cut, rising like a tide, starting to spill over and drip down her arm.
Thanks to his initial placement, it’s well-situated enough that she didn’t nick an artery or vein, but it’s deep. Too deep. His movements quick, now launching back into a different autopilot, Strange slices through the white sleeve of his shirt and rips a whole strip loose, now reaching forward and starting to wind it around the girl’s forearm to try to stem the bleeding.
“You can’t feel a thing,” he chides, “which is not exactly the time to start carving a knife into yourself—”