#maccadan

I'd say before Pharma went bonkers, his methods are a little less unethical. Like Prowl, he won't care much for these playful cretins. They're adorable, yes. Very soft, too. He can see why First Aid and Ambulon are always so keen on squishing their plush cheeks.

Unfortunately, as much as he tries to find them tolerable, one fae in particular switched his colorcoded books to different shelves can you believe that?

How utterly vulgar. He ought to put them in a Jar and send them to Nyon where Rodimus or whatever lives. That'll do the fine job of shutting them up.

Even more strange, this fae prefers to bother him, of all people. Always pottering along with their tiny feet. The wisp flutter of their wigs as they hover close, tugging on his hat, and cloak. Hiding behind pillars, peeking out then giggling when he notices them.

He'd imagine they go for humans like First Aid or Ambulon, since they are far more gentle with their words than he is to them

The annoyance to that particular fae, though, doesn't last too long.

It was a busy day at the hospital. Darkness veiled the night. He's working the night shift again and everyone had gone to their quarters. The halls are empty. It feels a little isolating but he'll have to make do.

After a small dreadful nap on his desk that left his throat sore and back.pained — Pharma wakes up with something warm over his back. He sits up straight and the something his back billows and pool to the ground. A — he pinches the material between his fingers, eyebrows cocked — blanket?

And the sprinkled dust of glitter on one end drew a smile to that face.

"Good, little cretin."

Pharma and fae aren't particularly close after, but he does acknowledge the fae and does, a little bit, grow more tolerant of them. In the gardens, where he'd go out for fresh air and a semblance for peace, fae would perch on his shoulder as he reads his book. Their tiny legs would swing aimlessly as their eyes peering over to read.

He's not sure the little thing understands but when he'd flip a page a little too early, he's halted by their itty hands and a trill. Pharma waits little, couldn't resist raising a finger and scratching the back of their ears, before turning the page after.

He couldnt retract his finger since fae is already nuzzling against it. So he keeps it there for as long as he remembers ( he couldn't perform surgery and had First Aid take over because of how sore his hand was).

Post-delphi Pharma, though. Yikes, okay. Everything is in shambles. Tarn comes and goes, and as he goes, chaos runs rampant and dances along every crook and cranny of Delphi like a forest fire.

Pharma isn't spared, either.

Fae, and the many others, find themselves scuttling away to a nearby forest. Their friend, a fae with green streaks to their wings, breedles to them about a new hideout in the caves.

Fae nods and follows along, before the group breaks off unceremoniously when a panther had caught on to their little group.

Fae persists to a different path. In doing so, unluckily encounters a bandit when they were trying to flee. It's not your usual, pillaging, loot lover bandit — these were the ones who snatch faeries and strip them of their magic dust.

A lot of fae's have been caught recently and the growing numbers are not one to mess with.

And, a quick scuffle between the two, led to fae hitting the floor hard. They squeak weakly, pawing the ground, trying and failing to flutter their wings. But it hurts. Thair back hurts. Their body hurts

Distraught, the shadow closes in on them, eyes of the bandit white half-moons of mirth as hands almost curl around fae's body—

And a sickening splat resounds after.

Fae opens their eyes and sees a different man looming. It's Pharma, eyes half lidded as he stares over the crook of his nose, down at the body in front of him — not the fae.

One side of his cheek had blood smeared across and over his hand, curls a crimson mottled axe. Fae doesn't want to see what's left of the body and looks away with a small shuddered trill, arms covering their faces.

This isn't the Pharma they knew..

Crass as he were — Pharma would never be so grotesquely vulgar as this.

The medic regards the little cretin for a moment, likely assessing the damage of their wings. He notices there's a stutter in the movements. Muscles, strained. Arms, limp.

Then, with another look to the body, silently, pharma grabs the fae with his free hand — blatantly ignoring their startled trills and their little kicks — and starts heading back to Delphi.

Everything was quiet. The hallways were quiet. The evening air was quiet. Even the gardens they so often mingle about — were dreadfully stale.

Pharma lays the fae down on the table, who scuttles to the edge in a fit of panic.

"I did tell the man to go after the least energetic ones." He murmered and pinches their ankle to stop their movements

Fae kicks at his fingers. He doesn't budge. Instead, he brings out wires from a drawer and starts coiling them into rings.

"Seems like he doesn't very much like listening to my orders." The wires were cold to their wrists then more cooler around ankles. "He's got what's coming, poor fellow. But that's done, now. I don't have to pay him, anymore. He's done enough—"

Fae let's out a squeal and thrashes around.

"Oh, don't give me that look, cretin. You'd think I'd spare your kind after the potential results you could give me?" He says lowly and clamps his entire hand on their body.

The table rattles..Fae shudders and weakly trills, pawing away at his palm. Tears sting their cheeks.

"But no worries." He leans closer. A small smile. "I'm fond of you, I'll give you that. That's only if the gift I'm planning to give you is of your taste. Look around, cretin. A new wing i've culled — just for you. You can choose as many as you like."

And fae swivels around, heart lurching in their chest. They've realized there were jars all around, perched in the shelves and were filled with faes...

Limp shadows. No longer bright. No longer breathing.