The Doctor is In

@ripharm​ asked:  "Happy Valentine's day." They'd get a box of pineapple flavored chocolate... or pineapples dipped in chocolate? Maybe it was a mix of both.

“Oh,” They were surprised to receive a gift from their other half. And it was pineapple themed chocolates no less! They have to taste interesting for sure. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything you know.” But still, thin lips had curved into a small smile all the same. 

@artificile​  asked: JUMBO ARE YOU ALIVE I MISS UUUUU 🥺🥺🥺 but also hi, let me lovemail you for bit bc i love u!!!! i honestly don't even remember how we started talking but i just know that it's loads of fun talking to youuu 💖 lemme also talk about your muses for bit bc I REALLY DO LOVE ALL OF EM 🥺 and i just rlly love seeing you ic or ooc no matter which blog okok. lemme also say i love your art So Much, they're all so pretty but i must say that the one of guin with the flower crown is in my heart 4ever!!! 💞

im nOT CRYING YOU’RE CRYING SHUT UP!!!!!

@knightlcve​ asked:  Thistle will receive a big dang kiss from Gravel. A big dang one indeed.

Their expression appears emotionless from her act of affection, however the slight curve of the corners of her lips to reveal they were indeed happy to receive the kiss.

To no one’s surprise, Meteor isn’t… THAT heartless to the blonde Doctor, her heart aches at seeing the pout and how much they are straving, “You are allowed to eat the bread with nothing, but I wish for you to take care of your health more.” She’s no medic, but eating bread without anything is… Bland. She’s been there. “Go ahead and have some bread.” In fact, take like 5.

Hephaestus & Nyx

Oh, sweet child of crafting and night! Your father is the wronged blacksmith of the gods, and your mother the mysterious primordial of Chaos. A life of greatness stands before you dictated by hard work, curiosity, and secrecy. No man can tell you what realm you preside over, but look to themes of astronomy and smoke as you grow into your power.

@fateswept​ asked:  Siege hands over an sour lollipop, "Want one doctor? You look like you need one."

If there was any way to describe the Doctor’s current condition, they were running on steam. It always felt like one thing after another. From one disaster to another, that’s all they ever seemed to focus on.

So a little energy boost was deeply appreciated— even if it was coming from a sugary confection with no nutritional value.

“That so?”

What were the chances of another survivor in this manor having memory loss and a bad eye like himself? From what he came to understand in his time here, they’d all had their struggles in life; he could understand, but he couldn’t quite relate. Just having common ground with someone else, no matter where the similarity might have ended, was a small relief.

“Well, I’m in the same boat as you. I can kinda remember what happened to me, but everything else’s just gone.” He offers a passive shrug. “Had an electrical accident that screwed me up a bunch, so among other things, this”—he briefly gestured to his left eye—“is totally useless now.”

The inventor offers an awkward laugh. “And yet I’m here ‘cause I can’t just give up on my craft. After I win this, everythin’ will finally have been worth it. You get it, right? Even if you can’t recall why, y’knew you had to accept that invitation too, didn’t you?”

“I had nothing else, it was the only clue I had to get the answers I was looking for.” They admit with a small nod. They can definitely understand what he meant. Even if he hadn’t lost a good chunk of his memory, he was still a Prisoner and that label would surely follow him for the rest of his life. 

“It’s admirable, pursuing your passions even if it may have been the cause of your struggles.—” They weren’t sure if they had the same passion he had. Maybe if they remembered what they were doing before the accident, they might have felt the same. Or perhaps the truth would only make them regret their past life, wishing they had never lived it in the way they had?

          as soon as consent is given, antonio’s arms reach to them in turn, one bracing behind their back while the other curled beneath their legs, bringing them in against their chest with a careful squeeze. they’re thankful they still have a bit of strength remaining in their limbs or else this motion would not be as easy, & they felt it would be rather shameful to offer such assistance only to drop the wounded survivor after.      they need a moment to make sure they are positioned properly so they would not stumble forward or fall backwards when they stand, readjusting their grip to be more secure. when they stand, there’s only a light stagger before they are balanced again, hair twisting to raise their violin up & around. hanging just slightly overhead of the survivor. if only they were able to split their focus a bit better, they could perhaps play for them now, letting their hair control the motions. it certainly would help sooth them, correct?

          alas, they can not, needing all of their focus on recalling the exact position the dungeon had spawned in. one step after the other, a light sway in their movements being somewhat comforting, a natural, smooth rhythm their body held. not a beat was missed as they slowly rounded a corner & heard the heavy wind that bellowed from the open hatch. there it was…       listening again does antonio slow right at the edge of the dungeon, lowering back to their knees as they had done a few minutes prior. though they do not set the survivor down by the dungeon just yet, instead giving them another once over. would this frail RESEARCHER still hold them to their offer of performing for them? they would not blame them, if they chose to avoid the hunter after how badly they had hurt them during the match, even if it hadn’t fully been their intention. it never was.           “ aha… of course i shall… i heard that there will be, ah… a full moon, in two nights… perhaps, if you visit the garden… i will be able to play for you more. ”

There was momentary panic in their chest when he staggers, for a moment they worry that his arms would not be strong enough to hold them. Only when he begins to move forward, a gentle sway in his step, did they finally relax. The rhythm in his movements was not lost on the frail survivor. They noticed the pattern after the fifth step. It was such a simple thing, and yet as they continue to sway in his arms they feel comforted by it. They were almost disappointed in how fast he had found the hatch, if only he could carry them for a bit longer.... It may have been the most comfortable place they had ever rested in. “A moonlit concert.... That sounds nice.” They hum out, still dead set on listening to him play again. They would not go back on their word, and they felt that they owed him a concert above all else.

“I will come to the garden, and after that—should you ever want to hold another concert you can come and find me.” In a moment of habit (a habit from a past long forgotten), their hand reaches up to pat his head. But the pale digits hesitate before they can touch the earie black locks. His hair was dangerous, it was the very reason they were in such a bloodied and battered state now. While they trusted him not to harm them now, they did not quite trust the sentient mane. They weren’t sure exactly how much he was in control of himself. Hands then lower, to gently pat the hands that gently held them in his arms. 

“Thank you,” they struggle to lower themselves to their feet, their body visibly shaking from the strain. A series of hisses leave their lips and they clutch at their side while clinging to the Violinist for support. For a few moments they catch their breath, trying their best to adjust to the pain as they use what little strength they had to let go of him, and lower their self to the hatch. The Researcher stops for a moment, turning to look up at him just long enough a soft smile, before allowing themselves to fall down into the hatch. The darkness quickly swallows them up and the lid shortly shuts itself behind them.

“Huh. That so?”

He takes a brief glance at their eye, not wanting to come off as rude. Luca doesn’t quite enjoy it when people make a point to stare at his injuries himself; he figures it’s common sense that others don’t as well. It didn’t take long for his curiosity to poke through, however, the words catching themselves in his throat in a moment of hesitance before he forced them out.

“Sorry, uh, if it’s rude to ask; you don’t have to answer if it is, but… what happened?”

“No clue.” They answer his question with no hesitation. “I don’t remember anything before waking up in a hospital and being invited to this mansion—Only thing I know is that I must have had it for a long time since the scarring is so old.” They had no problem talking about their injuries or sharing personal information, most likely because they truly remembered very little in the first place.