The door slides open, the sound silent save for the woosh of air filters that followed him in, to clear his body of the disease. He’s limping in, and that would normally be a sign of danger, of infected, but Ziel was the only one that could not be inflicted with the virus. It meant sacrificing his safety, the eternal potential of overheating and melting his core, but he would stay himself.
The Guitarist leaned against the wall, accepting the tile’s cool embrace for the heat in his limbs. Finally, a chance to rest. He lifted a battered hand to his hair, feeling the burnt edges, the absence of his beloved braid. It feels strange, empty, and he’s light-headed without its weight upon his shoulders.
Leaning his head back, ears twitching at the sound of approaching footsteps; he’d begun to recognize them with the silence that enveloped his precious HQ. “Hey Lyr, Vox…” Ziel lifted his eyes, tired gold becoming apparent as the hard-light screen scattered away from his face, baring the cuts he wore upon his temples. “Had a bit of a rough time out there, sorry about that.”
“Rough is putting it lightly,” Lyra chides, but her tone is short lived-- how could it not be? Standing before her is Ziel, bloodied and burnt. She frowns, waiting for the filters to finish their work before crossing the threshold to meet her brother. “I’m glad you made it back in mostly one piece...“ save for the obvious missing braid, which goes unspoken for the moment, despite her eyes lingering on the messy fringes of the android’s gold hair. “Synth should get a look at you, then you need to get some beauty sleep, alright?“
Vox had followed her through, lifting Ziel’s arm over his shoulders and urging the battered robot to lean against him. The contrast in their external temperatures briefly causing a small hiss, before they balanced each other out. Their group proceeded through the rest of the passages and sealed doors standing between their tiny refuge and the world of chaos above. A procession of ghosts, each reflecting the sleepless paranoia that kept them all moving.
As they reached the repair bay, Lyra finally relented, only making a slight face at the faded Enforcer before parting. “Make sure he actually gets some rest for once.” As much as she wanted to watch over her sibling, there were other things that needed her attention. Repairs to make around the base, rations to split, people to check on...
Finally, an internal ping reaches Ziel’s systems, Vox’s unrepaired voice reaching the only person who could hear it. //Not sure what kind of rest she expects me to get you.// He only half regretted being unable to make the smart ass remark aloud.
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