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Rules
Bios
Other blogs: @birdonawiresara & @huntresscaraquinn

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Andy smiled. “Just finished a shift actually. A long one.”
She let out a small laugh. “I was also gonna grab some food before heading home, taking a long relaxing bubble bath, and then immediately passing out.”
Hopefully.
“Being a rookie means sacrificing tons of sleep because I get to wake up super early and do it all over again tomorrow.” She shrugged lightly. “I’m not complaining though. I really do love my job.”
A grin tugged at her lips.
“Although I’m pretty sure half my diet now consists of coffee and whatever I can eat in under five minutes.”
“Yeah, short shifts don’t exist for trauma surgeons,” Dominic replied with a shake of his head, “If anything, they tend to run longer than they’re supposed to because trauma means unpredictable.” She then explained that being a rookie meant sacrificing sleep, and that she’d start the whole cycle again the next day, which led him to ask, “Does it even out as you move up the ladder? Or are your hours always going to be crazy? And I get it. To do it, you have to love it, or you wouldn’t have lasted as long as you have.” As for her diet consisting of coffee and whatever she could eat in under five minutes, he offered, “What if it took longer than five minutes, but the food was worth the wait? Coffee’s great, too...”
"Meant to be one, results probably not as intended."
Howie couldn't help visible body language of understanding but not agreeing with the explanation. "Just because you can understand, doesn't justify because there is also choice. You were their kid- they had an bigger capacity to learn than most and yet they didn't learn your language. They tried to get you to only speak theirs." Those parents always struck an nerve; not the same deep wound of mirroring howie's own growing up but still got under his skin. "And you're allowed to recognize the why, their faults and be mad."
Normally would spin right around the topic; not impart personal information and yet felt safe enough to do so. If not fair given everything she'd let him know about her own upbringing. "My parents aren't really capable of being proud of me, just in general- I was meant to be an possession not a person."
"It's an gut feeling... I've seen it enough to tell the difference between lapse of guardian attention and the absence of it." Lived through it as well. Of course wouldn't know for sure until she woke up. Yet highly doubted that was wrong about the situation.
Offering a friendly smile back, "Exactly, though I really wouldn't want to be all chosen one. Saving the world is an lot of ground to cover."
“Whereas the homework as punishment definitely nailed its intended results for me,” Reagan replied before shrugging, “I don’t know, maybe they couldn’t bring their minds to such a low level. Maybe they had been living their lives as geniuses for so long, they couldn’t comprehend anything else.” A beat passed before she added, “Ryder wasn’t like that. He was smarter than all of us, and I don’t know - I don’t know if it’s because we grew up together or because we were twins, but... He always understood me. He never made me feel less than. But, as stupid as I am, I was never that stupid. I knew. I knew I didn’t fit, that I was the family disappointment, and that was never going to change.” She then shook her head, “I’m not mad. I accepted that role a long time ago.”
“But look at everything you overcame to get here!” Reagan countered in disbelief. “Look at what you do. You’re making a real difference, you’re helping to save lives - the lives of kids, no less. Not to mention, I don’t understand how a person can be a possession.” Was it a custody thing? Or did they just want to parade him around, because that was something she’d witnessed with Ryder. But even then, he was still their child. Either way, she didn’t push, she didn’t want him to share anything more than he felt comfortable with. As for his gut feeling in regards to Ciara, she offered him a nod of the head, “This is what you do. If you think this was ‘an absence of guardian attention,’ then I trust your instincts. And I know I was just the transportation, but... I’m glad I was there. I’m glad I got her here, where she could get real help. She deserves that.” She then smirked, “So what, you’re just the protector of this city? You and the other superheroes pulled out a map and divided the world up? All right, I’ll bite. Why here?”

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"And yet alive you are. Breathing, and aching, and mostly without scars for your torments." Pouring a little more water for him, she shifted in closer again to offer it.
"You were brought to me by a local wolfpack to save your life. I had no way of knowing that doing so would keep you from your family, and that is why I apologize. I don't have the heart for keeping family apart anymore. I've lost enough of my own." She hated that even now her heart could ache without beating. That it could break for someone else's loss. Her hand gently brushed Thomas' hair back, an attempt at a soothing gesture she would have offered to a child.
"Do you have a name, vuk? You'll be with us a while; your blood needs to replenish before you'll be strong enough to get up and move around much," Helene warned him quietly. "But we will take care of you until you're well again."
Thomas was usually good at putting the pieces in front of him together fast, on taking quick and decisive action. But he thought he was dead. He should be dead. And yet somehow this woman healed him. This woman whose scent was unlike any other he’d ever smelled, but he knew that she wasn’t a wolf. So why did she talk of wolves as if they were commonplace? Was a pack - the pack that had brought him to her - intentionally breaking pack law? He didn’t know, he didn’t have any answers, but it was best for him to get far away from here; he - and, more importantly, Evie - could not get mixed up in whatever this was. “I appreciate the help, I appreciate - whatever it was that you did to save me. You went out of your way to help a stranger, you have nothing to apologize for. But I can’t stay here. I had - I had a bag with me, is it... If not, is there a phone I can use? I need to call my sister...” Evelyn would come and get him, she would finish treating him in the privacy of their current home, and then they would take off. Put as much distance between themselves and this place as they possibly could...
“Don’t let the concept of change scare you as much as the prospect of remaining unhappy.”
— Timber Hawkeye
dyson & kenzi ll 1x06: food for thought
You’ll stay with me though, right? / You bet. I’m not going anywhere.
You promise. / I promise.
Sihtric chuckled and shrugged. "Nah, I'm not that much of a talker... I like to listen. But at least I do talk." Which was more than Bran did most of the time... or Evie's brother for that matter. He was a little surprised when Evie told him that her father could have more children too. He left it at that though, he figured they weren't there to discuss their private life. He helped pack the food and then took the bags to carry them back to the apartment. "Do you guys have jobs here in town already?" He asked once they were outside of the shop. "Because if not I'm sure Bran could ask around some... he knows the people with their own business here in town and they seem to like him."
“You’re definitely holding your own,” Evie replied with a reassuring nod of her head. As for what she said about her father having more children, too, she saw the look of surprise on his face and - while he didn’t pry, either - she still explained, “Our mother passed away a few months ago. So my father could very well end up getting married again and having more children, I just had never really considered it until now.” Especially because she would never know his new mate or any potential half-siblings. Her father was Caleb’s second-in-command, and supported him above his own children. Meaning he was part of the reason they were on the run, and would never be a part of their lives again. Sihtric moved to help her with the bags, and she thanked him before answering, “We do - my brother’s working a construction job and I’m working at a cafe in town. But I very much appreciate the offer. I take it Bran has been living here for a while? Or was he born here?”
Setting her book aside was a slow movement, a simple, unhurried thing as she gathered some water for the man when she heard the coughing. Leaning in to offer it to him, she paused as he spoke, taking a moment to adjust to recognizing the language.
"Please, have some water," Helene hushed, trying her best not to let on the amount of pain his words caused. Familiarity.
She understood where he was coming from. She understood what he was asking and why, and an aching pain radiated outward as she felt echoes of it. If she'd died, would her child be waiting for her in some kind of afterlife? Certainly not now, if she could even reach that kind of afterlife. Not after the blood on her hands. She belonged in no place where the innocence of an unborn child was.
"I think you've misunderstood what's happened to you," she managed around a knot in her throat. "You are very much alive, though perhaps I owe you an apology for that. It seems the future has plans for you, still."
Thomas wasn’t normally an impatient man. But the thought of wasting time drinking water - drinking and eating were still required after death? - when he could be seeing his mom and his wife, when he could be holding his child for the first time... He had to push the feeling down, taking a drink that, admittedly, soothed his parched throat. He had all of eternity to be with them. He and his mate - his family, they would never be separated again. That was what he needed to focus on...
...Until the woman told him that he misunderstood what happened to him. That he was very much alive, and perhaps she owed him an apology for it, but he still had a future ahead of him. He shook his head, “That’s not possible. I was torn to shreds, there’s no way I could’ve survived...” And yet, even now he was being cautious about what he said. Making a point not to mention that he had been attacked by a pack of feral wolves, or that his own ability to heal wouldn’t have been enough to help him recover from what had happened. He was already preparing himself for disappointment, the feeling of his mate slipping from his grasp yet again... It was unbearable, which was why he shifted his thoughts to quietly asking the woman, “Why would you owe me an apology?”

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Continued from here:
@ofinkandalibis
Dominic smiled in return as he shook her hand, “Nice to meet you, too, Andy. And not at all. I just got off shift, and was heading to grab some food before crashing.” In the back of his mind, he wondered if Molly would be at his apartment when he got there. She had a habit of showing up announced - which he was fine with, more than fine with; at least then he knew that she was safe. That she and Ayla were safe. He shook his head again as if to dispel his thoughts, asking Andy, “What about you? Heading to or from work, or did you get the day off?”
- 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚜.
"Have we met?" (To Dominic from Andy)
Dominic was walking down the street, worn red backpack over his shoulder, lost in his thoughts. He hadn’t heard from Molly in a few days and neither had his parents. Always something that had worried him in the past, to the point where he’d lost track of the days and nights he’d spent searching for her. But things were different now. Now, she had Ayla with her, and she was eighteen. So she could go and do what she wanted, with a newborn in tow...
...A woman’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to meet her gaze. He briefly studied her face before nodding, “Sort of - in passing. I’m a trauma surgeon at the hospital, and you’re from 15 Division, right?” He paused to offer her his free hand, “I’m Dominic Brennin.”
"Oh hi! Pleasure to meet you, Doctor Donoven. Feel free to call me Himiko or Himi, or Iko whatever combo you want." She chuckled a little, "Don't worry about it, you're not cutting into anything important right now. They blocked off sometime since you're new and all and the last new doc we let loos was lost in the basement for like 3 hours soooo."
It was definitely an over statement but that was kinda the fun of it. "So you've obviously now seen our glorious ED also known as The Pitt. Our Chief of Medicine doesn't appreciate the name but we don't really care."
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Himiko - and please, call me Sofia,” she replied. As for her reassurance that she wasn’t cutting into anything important, that they’d blocked out this time because the last new doctor ended up lost in the basement for three hours, she smirked, “You say ‘lost’ but maybe they were taking advantage of their ‘new doctor’ status for some quiet time - that, or they learned to commune with the rats.” Himiko then spoke of her seeing their ED, also known as the Pitt, which apparently was a nickname their Chief of Medicine didn’t appreciate. “Can you point them out? I prefer not to get on their bad side on my first day.” A beat. “The third or fourth, maybe...”

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Send "Floor Time" to find my muse lying on the floor.
“Yeah,” he replied nonchalantly. It had hurt, of course, but Dally had long since accepted the fact that pain and wounds were a part of the life he led. He’d been through worse before and, he was sure, he’d go through worse again. Returning a halfhearted smile, more as a formality than any actual amusement, he was in a good mood today.
“Guess getting stitched up beats getting cut open.” It was a weak joke— not even a joke, really, but just a wry comment made from the reminder of the last time he was in this place. Johnny died here. Dally himself should have died here. Instead, he’d had surgery after surgery, not just repairing his burns from the fire, but also removing a bullet from his chest and saving his heart. It was an eerie, sick, feeling in his stomach and, despite the big gash, he had nothing but the strongest urge to get up and run out of here as fast as he could.
“Do what you gotta do.” Dally shrugged, pulling at the sleeve of his shirt to give her more space to work. Though, he couldn’t resist the quip about the couch, “you haven’t seen the couch— might be an improvement.”
As Sofia gave him a local anesthetic, she gently told him, “By law, I’m required to report what is considered an assault with a deadly weapon.” She assumed, given his chart, that he knew that. She also assumed that he would not be pressing charges or even offering information in regards to who was responsible. Would she like to be wrong? Of course. Which was why her words were simply stated. She could always hope that this time would be different, that this time he would make a different choice. Regardless, she needed him to know, “At the end of the day, you and your care are my priority. Treatment for your wound comes first, all right?” Having administered the anesthetic, she pointed out in regards to his joke, “Technically you had to get cut open first or I wouldn’t be sitting here stitching you up. And I’m going to start cleaning the wound, okay? If you need me to stop at any time, just let me know.” She began to irrigate the wound, scrunching up her nose, “The couch is that bad, huh? You could always ‘accidentally’ spill something on it. The kind of something that won’t come out. Not that I’m advocating for destruction of property.” She punctuated that by briefly looking up at him with a small smile.