#panacea

Starting over with no hope for turning back Still it's calling me Saturated with a vigorous routine I hear it calling me, still calling me again

Under this stress it's a mess I cannot avoid entirely Trapped in distraction, again I fall the victim to Fighting thoughts with focus, This paradox will be the end of me

Wired head to toe, the rest must go No need for an alibi

I can't recall what's next Unless I learn of a past demise This scattered recollection fails My mind is pacing back and forth, Through walls of a restless daze And consciousness is fading

What breaks inside is not the world to me But will I ever make my way back safe inside this remedy

If I had an ounce of strength left I could assure myself that I'm alright

a little yap on my oc, because i'm feeling self indulgent and manic.

She likes herbal tea, hates the snow with a genuine personal grievance, and she loves a clear blue sky. She doesn’t believe in sports (too much energy, and too much going on). She loves the theatre, but pretends it’s an intellectual interest rather than an emotional one. She always takes her showers in the evening.

She’s no nonsense. A little self-conscious in the way competent people often are; like she’s constantly aware she might be slightly too visible and slightly too sharp around the edges.

Runa is a doctor, a systems thinker, and someone who keeps accidentally ending up in rooms where she is not supposed to have power… and then quietly does anyway.

Silco is her problem. And also, unfortunately, her joy.

Her favourite takeaway spot is “Marty's Steam Noodle House” and she always orders ginger broth noodles with extra greens and too much chilli. Silco, without fail, orders bone marrow stew with pepper. He always takes her pickled plum, and she always ends up taking his menma.

Silco’s favourite takeaway spot is “Roddy's”. He always orders salt-crusted fried fish and whatever today’s “mystery catch” is, while Runa orders a smaller portion of battered fish. They always order extra scraps—broken batter bits and if they're feeling it, a basket of fried potato cuttings.

Her favourite gift he gave her was half of all his assets; less a gesture than a restructuring of power that made her impossible to quietly remove from his world. His favourite gift he gave from her was a hand-carved tea set, and which she uses daily.

Runa’s favourite gift she gave him was boudoir photos; something he keeps under maximum security and would never acknowledge openly, however the quieter fact is his favourite gift from her were her hand-rolled cigars, the first thing she ever gifted him.

Silco likes her upside-down smile. And he finds it a little bit attractive when her voice gets raspy from smoking too much.

She likes his grit, in the way you might call something dangerous “useful” and then quietly realise you meant “necessary.” And hates how people treat Silco as some sort of conversational piece.

Runa believes, against her better judgment and her own stated principles, that Silco is the only person in Zaun who can truly match her. Not in agreement. Not in morality. In scale. In stubbornness. In the work.

What’s slightly irritating (and occasionally humbling in a way you didn’t ask for) about writing Runa and Silco is that they are both cleverer than me. I've outwitted myself out of writing my own fic. 🚬

I've been a terrible parent, I haven't updated my fic in two months now... BUT, I have not forgotten about them. This just means an update is imminent.