He growled when Mo caught him, shoving him away. "I'm fine." He was not going to topple over like some damsel in distress, but he might continue to act like one. "And I didn't come here for an assessment from the unprofessional Dr. Butterfly, who specialises in cloth munching and lamp licking." He just threw everything out, like a scorned lover. "Though this is what you and your council friends want, right? For me to be weak? That's what I'm looking for. Proof that you lured me here so you could get that other doctor to probe me. It's not happening again."

Mo stood nearby still examining the other. "You're swaying like a scarecrow in the wind." Mo remarked. "That's rich coming from Gojira, the mighty who pees in oceans and squirts toxic waste out of every opening in their body." Mo replied back like a divorced husband defending himself.

"That's...that's a lie." He had to give it to Mo, it was a good distraction the moment of fluster though once the cuff snapped on his hand his attention then turned to that. "The hell is this?" His 'detainment' wouldn't last long however as Jiro's veins begun to glow vibrantly, and he'd managed to snap the cuff, and he backed away from Mo, though somewhat stumbling and clutching his head as he got hit by a wave of dizziness, but he shook it off, "buzz off before I flatten this entire hospital you lamp licker."

"So you can pay attention when needed." Mo remarked coolly. The moth could have phrased it nicer but opted not to since Jiro's bruised ego was smaller than the actual cosmetic damage the kaiju caused. Mo did raise his eyebrow hearing the cuff snap. "I'll admit that was uncalled for." Mo was going to respond about the lamp licking allegations when he noticed the stumble, and even he had to cease his bickering. "Gojira." Mo said catching Jiro, he examined Jiro's face for some return to color. "Have you eaten anything?" He asked in a gentle tone. It was a bit hard being professional, when it was someone you did care for.

"Anytime." Mo said with a graceful smile. Mo took a hand warmer and opened one package immediately. "My fingers felt so numb up until this point." The moth remarked. There was a hum.

Izumi’s nose wrinkled faintly after another bite of the ration, though her expression never shifted far from its usual calm restraint. She turned the packet over once in her hand as though inspecting evidence from a crime scene before giving a quiet hum of agreement. ❝ You are not being dramatic, ❞ she said evenly, dark eyes lifting toward Mo. ❝ It tastes terrible. But that is usually the point with things like this. Long shelf life. High nutrition. Easy transport. Flavor becomes...irrelevant. ❞ There was the slightest pause before she took another bite regardless, disciplined enough to ignore the chalky bitterness settling on her tongue. ❝ No one enjoys surviving on necessities, ❞ Izumi added at last, voice carrying that detached practicality she wore like armor. ❝ But sometimes necessity is the only thing keeping people alive. ❞

Mo gave a little smirk at that remark. "That is very insightful of you-" Mo remarked. "I suppose I should be cognaizant of that in the future." There was a raise of their eyebrows at that remark.

Rather than talk like a normal human being, which he was not, he preferred to be petty. Over the past week or so, he had decided to sneak in and out of Mo’s office and commit the greatest of offenses: stealing Mo’s coffee. That was just a cover while he looked for files, records, or anything that might prove his paranoia that Mo was helping steal his radiation. After shifting through several and making a mess, he did find his own file, and he sat there staring at it in confusion because his lizard brain did not understand Mo’s vocabulary. He was so fixated on trying to work it out that he did not notice the door open.

Even though Mo could have reached out, unlike Jiro he had obligations. Unlike a sensible person, Mo buried himself in surgeries. There was a brief thought that maybe someone was tampering with his supply but he attributed it to miscounting. However even he was taken aback by the state of his office. He saw the culprit and the first word he muttered under his breath was. "Obnoxious" They said to themselves.

Iselin scoffed softly at the doctor’s remark, a sound sharp enough to cut but too composed to be truly loud, her expression tightening with faint disdain. ❝ Crying at hypothermia, ❞ she repeated, as if tasting the absurdity of it, crossing her arms across her chest. ❝ I can’t relate. ❞ Her gaze drifted away, unimpressed, already dismissing the concept entirely. At his next comment, something in her posture shifted, instant offense, theatrical and deliberate. She lifted a hand to her chest in an exaggerated gasp. ❝ Caregiver? ❞ she echoed, scandalized on principle more than meaning. ❝ I am not a caregiver! ❞ Her eyes narrowed slightly as she added under her breath, almost inaudible, ❝ I’m the one who deserves to be given care. ❞ Then the orange juice arrived, and some macaroons with it. The transformation was immediate. Her expression brightened with unmistakable, almost childlike delight as she reached for them without hesitation, ignoring restraint entirely as she claimed the entire box for herself. ❝ Finally, ❞ she said absently, already breaking into one of the sweet treats. ❝ Take all the time in the world, doctor. I’m sure you’ll do your best, whatever the result. ❞

"You'd be surprised at what people cry about these days." Mo said with a cryptic yet sad smile. There was a slight chuckle. "You'd be the first to say the cold doesn't bother you- it certainly bothers me." Mo said with a shrug.

open starter