#rp17

Your muse is running a high fever and can barely function. Send “I’m hot” and my muse will take care of yours.

Pharma looks up from what he is working on raising an opticridge at the mech “I have yet to notice, I’ve been quite comfortable all day. Then again I never leave the med wing.” He furrows his opticridges and wipes his servos on a towel, walking over to put the back of his hand to Smokescreen’s cheek then frowns “I believe it is just you Smokes, maybe you should sit down for a moment- I’ll get you some coolant.” Of course as he’s off grabbing that jug he still has to ask him 20 questions “When was the last time you took a break? Any helm aches? Maybe your chest?”

If Helena didn’t have her beloved Kommodo dragon’s head draped over her lap, slobbering into a towel folded to protect her wrinkle-free slacks, she would join Marta in pacing across the room, back and forth. It almost surprised the quieter of the two sisters that she hadn’t worn off the shiny finish of their apartment’s floor into a dull line with all the pacing she did. Helena’s hand ran over the warm, coarse scales of her familiar’s head. 

They had a conundrum. A big one.

As simple and flawless as the plan Josiah cooked up seemed, a lot of external factors could easily tip the scales from success to failure with very little effort. 

The main ones? Getting Nero alone and following his whereabouts without causing suspicion before striking. The fact that now, apparently, his older brother had gone rogue and was most likely had gone to investigate the Nero situation. The fact that Nero was a Class 5, meaning drugging him without someone else expressing concern would be... Hard. Especially if they tried to spike his drink and he was at a public bar.

“Oh- No is fine, I can take all four. Can share with you and friends-” Groa fidgets some more, before looking over at Phil.

“..Doing okay. Sorry to hear about the head trauma killing you.” Phil jokes back, getting an elbow out of Groa.

“Phil- Well, anyways, figure we could share one of these pies now? Caught us on break.” The decapod chuckles while Phil looks over the pies.

“What kinda’ fruit you put in these things? Cherry?” He blinks.

Pansy seems thoroughly amused by Phil’s response, stifling a giggle before giving Groa her attention instead. 

“Sure, sure! I’m just glad I caught you at the right time, I wouldn’t’ve wanted to interrupt,” she agrees, putting the basket down and letting Phil look them over. “Oh uh, one of ‘em is. The other one’s peach n’ apricot. And then the other two are haddock and steak, respectively. In hindsight, I should’ve made pumpkin pie...” 

She rubs her cheek, distracted but smiling.