[The presence of an apology fills you with further determination to flesh out the prompt.]

-

To absolutely no one's surprise, Liskarm takes more time to adjust.

Liskarm herself professes it (drily—after all, growing up in one's formative years in a combat zone will skew one's thoughts about how to spend time that never felt 'free', only ephemeral sparks), she finds it difficult to pull away entirely from checking on news about the shifts in business and international shifts. Franka teases her plenty about 'mother draking' those cooperating with Rhodes.

But to some's surprise it's a short amount of time; Franka and Liskarm point that she has been changing from when they were settling into Rhodes. Well-trained, Franka says.

That always earns an elbow to the ribcage.

But when close friends point out how Liskarm always has a small, wry, fond look whenever Franka's looking pleased at 'convincing' her to join on a surprise trip up to this lesser known glacier or that music concert, all the old Vouivre does?

and Franka's oprec. OOF. I wonder if her mother was actually infected with oripathy, not just sick from overwork. but also. her pranking Liskarm and distracting Liskarm from work because she's probably worried that Liskarm's will work herself into an early grave if left unattended. and how both of them remember what the other's dreams are! they're in love, your honour.

hehehe, i'm v glad they're eating your brain, and to see your takes. for me my take-away from lisk's op rec was more about how rhodes island made her realise that for her to accomplish her goal of bringing greater stability to Vouivre, it won't be as 'simple' as she thought when she went into blacksteel, and she has her growth at blacksteel but especially rhodes to thank for that insight. (and ofc w her partner)

jess and liskarm def have a type of relationship i'm v soft about, so i'm glad you enjoyed that bit too :3 should def read jess' op rec, since it has more details on how it went down.

i'd imagine franka-mama probably was Just the overwork, since we've seen detecting it is a relatively 'simple' matter of checking blood levels, and since if it was oripathy franka would've probably brought her mama to Rhodes once she heard about the work they were doing. (the insights into how franka was once a crybaby (and, yea, even after everything still sucky about being straight about her emotions) was so. mwah. delicious.)

fbdhrjdj butch i love you so goddamn much

see now you got me thinking about how character modules are almost like relics (in the saint sense), items tied to them and who they are that do have or 'grant' more power

ban>:3c Bless you Jaime.

One missed call.

-

She does not storm into the infirmary. A storm implies erupting chaos before and behind it. She is an arrow, she is a sword, she is a beam of light shooting forth, not disturbing anyone else, and no one able to stop her.

Only she ends her momentum beside a bed.

The Doctor stirs in their seat, darkness clinging under their eyes. “You’re back. I wasn’t sure... if you’d get the message.”

“How did this happen?” Her voice is low, as ever. But there’s a nigh-imperceptible tremour to her rock-like steadiness, cracks about her cleavage point. Her eyes scan over Silence, taking in her wan face, the lines connected to her wrist. She is small, too small, without her jacket. Saria has to fight the urge to take off her own, lay it over her. Silence wouldn’t like that.

“Crossbows. And others, of course, but they dealt the worst to Silence. It was... chaotic.”

Saria glances at them, properly. “Your jacket’s torn up.”

The Doctor glances down, registering the truth of that before shrugging. “I’ll get it fixed tomorrow. My injuries were minor. And are already patched.” They meet Saria’s eyes, fatigue obvious, but empathetic. “Ptilopsis tended to her. It’ll take time, but she will be fine, Saria.”

“I will believe that when I see it with my own eyes, Doctor.”

“Of course. It’s very you.” They stand, and motion her to the chair. “You must be tired. Sit. I’ll be back in the morning with Warfarin.”

Saria accepts with a mute nod, not sparing a glance as the Doctor leaves, gaze trained to the short rise and fall of Silence’s chest.

So close. So close to losing her, and while at a distance to do nothing. Unable to help, and with the truth still tucked away by Saria’s fear--no. Her cowardice.

She knows, that Silence has gotten the best care possible. Knows she has the best chance of survival. Knows the Doctor would not lie, about her being well in time.

But she still bows her head. Wishes, dreams, prays, whatever others would call it. And she hopes that she will be able to speak, that Silence will break with her ban and listen.

butch, im going to gently remind you that the typical response of someone new getting into an old media is 'omg x-posting on my dash in 20yy bless'. or just the more simple 'FRESH BLOOD'. your tags are a delight.

don't forget "the assassination of hatsune miku by the coward miles edgeworth"

true. and also this

yES! *CRACKS KNUCKLES*

Headcannon A: Waverly learned Esperanto just cause she could.

Headcannon B: Waverly is absolutely 100% the national champion at cupstacking. 

Headcannon C: Waverly is the one who looks the most like their mother and is probably why she was Ward’s unfavorite the fucker.