<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/cc/CatMoore01.jpeg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong> Melody Fairchild-Harrow<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong> Sensible boots and warmly practical gear - albeit wholly in black<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong> An abandoned freighter<br/><strong>TIME:</strong> Early morning<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong> Post-terror relief<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> Kaspian, Kaleigh, Michael, Francis<br/><hr/><br/>That unsettling <em>lurch</em> right after the helicopter's take-off had Melody more than a little worried - not just for the heart-in-mouth anxiety of the moment itself, but for the potential implications of further trouble to come.  She had, after all, been on enough trips to mundane cinemas to know just how important a trope "bad guy hanging from the helicopter" really was, with "terrifying monster boarding the escape craft" certainly not to be forgotten either.<br/><br/>Seeing the entity still on the deck - and looking decidedly frustrated - thus came as a marked relief... and for a moment she allowed herself to slump back in her seat.  Then the combination of muscles and joints protesting about carrying Michael and the sight of the man himself served to dispel that brief surge of positive feeling.  Racking her brain for anything that might be more use than the standard healing rune, all that she could clearly come up with was <em>Sangliers</em>.  Potentially vital, of course, given how badly wounded Michael seemed to be... but she was well aware that she had found it in the course of her searches for 'obscure and rarely used' runes precisely because it was not regarded as at all <em>wise</em> to employ.<br/><br/>Magically transferring blood from one body to another was not for the faint-hearted, even when both donor and recipient had a little of the strength of an angel.  And for her, it would be the first-ever attempt.  What would happen if she got it wrong?  How much control would a user have over the size and rate of transfer?  Visions danced through her mind - some of the milder ones entailing making herself pass out while giving Michael several pints more than his circulatory system had room to hold...<br/><br/>But she kept <em>Sangliers</em> at the forefront of her thoughts, while fearfully watching Michael - desperately hoping that he would not deteriorate far enough that it seemed necessary to try using it.  That hope was, thankfully, met, with the chopper managing to land and their companion reaching the care of dedicated medics.<br/><br/>Still, she delayed a moment, trying to make sure that she grabbed the attention of someone nearby - primarily those not presently focused upon the near-dead Shadowhunter, though if they were to hear her as well it could be a good thing.<br/><br/>"I might be wrong - but I think that the demon might have tried grabbing the chopper as took off.  <em><strong>Check</strong></em> the landing struts - but be careful!  It seemed to spread, or at least be associated with, some sort of contaminant.  Dark ooze of some kind.  I don't think any of us have seen anything like it before - like the demon or the ooze."<br/><br/>Then she allowed herself to be bundled off through the portal, to thereafter blink somewhat dazedly at the safety of the Institute, and at her superior praising their work.  It hadn't actually occurred to her that things had gone <em>well</em>... though if Michael survived, she would feel much more inclined in that direction.  Ingrained habit did at least mean that she managed to mumble an acknowledgement and some gratitude for his words.<br/><br/>Kaspian's query took a few moments to register, resulting in the (artificial) redhead blinking dopily at her companions.  "Pho?  Uh... oh!  Sorry.  Vietnamese noodle soup, right?  Sure.  That would be good.  And... thank you.  Both of you."<br/><br/>Her mouth opened as if to add more... then she closed it again, instead raising a hand in self-conscious farewell.  Time for a shower and a change of clothes indeed, and to at least knock together the framework of her report.  Given how <em>different</em> that hunt had been, she was not quite sure what state she would be in once the adrenaline finished wearing off....<br/><br/><br/></div>