prismatica | second ☕✨ text (opening a clinic & a game!)

Entry tags:

second ☕✨ text (opening a clinic & a game!)

Guete Morge, everyone!

I will try to keep this brief. I've posted once before but I imagine it's more likely that if you know me, you've met me in person or know a mutual acquaintance; my name is Angela Ziegler. I'm the doctor that has opened the Second Nature Clinic on level 2. It has officially been set up and I've worked up a preliminary amount of basic medications that should be familiar to most such as allergy medication, pain management, decongestants, and other such things.

More importantly, there is no charge for any of my services if anyone ever needs to come by or contact me. I'll also gladly come to you if you're not comfortable in medical facilities or don't wish to leave your apartment. I think we all know by now the effect we can have on others, depending on the time of the month. I want everyone to know that they're welcome, for any reason, whether it's for questions, concerns with the moonblessings this place bestows upon us, medical aid, or simply for a cup of coffee and some fresh pastries for the company. We are all here on our own and it's the least that I can offer to support others.

( You know, Understatement Of The Century™️, but moving right along. You can practically read the warm little smile like to be on her face if she were speaking this aloud. )

I've seen countless posts here seeking commiseration on feelings and effects people have experienced, worries, concerns— and nowhere else to put them. I hope you're all well and have found the answers you need. While I am primarily a surgeon and combat medic, I never mind listening or offering another perspective if you ever wish for something more private and a touch professional. You could call it part of my job to assist others in shifting their typical way of thinking into something a little more positive after a life-changing injury and its recovery.

I do plan on joining the trip so that a medic is present, so the clinic may be closed for a few days. If anyone wishes to post their contact information on the door for others remaining in Prismatica, please feel free to do so! I would rest easier knowing that there are eyes out for all of us, across both places.

And if you wish to know me a bit better, why don't we play a game? Two truths and a lie. Let's see, I'll start...

1. I once won a spider-catching competition.
2. I've spent more time camping than living in my house.
3. My favorite color is yellow.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( It's the nature of this place that an extended hand is immediate for her, and the soft touch of her other to the back offers one little stroke of the fingertips over tendons and down to his wrist, giving him a gentle squeeze and a dose of chroma before letting him have his hand back.

The texture of his palm is only half-surprising; the chair may not require manual pushing, or at least not always, but she typically expects it to rough one's hands up regardless. No, his callouses and scars were from more than just that. Then he introduces himself as a King and the surprise is, finally, fully realized. Blue eyes blink wide and a brief and silly part of her wonders if she shouldn't curtsy. It wouldn't be the first time. )

The pleasure is all mine; if Belias is appropriate, then please just call me Angela. And it's nice to meet Nisha, as well! Does he accept treats...?

( Surely she has a bit of landjaeger around here somewhere for a bit of jerkied sausage. )

The sign—? Oh! I see; thank you for alerting me. Was it the beach safety ones along the rails? I'll see if I can't fix it here in a moment. I have the tools handy, at least, and it will be quicker than trying to call someone.

( Ah, it sounds like he saw her post on the network. Her nose crinkles with the bit of amusement and she's going to fetch her coffee cup from the desk before bustling over to the stand with the espresso machine and the electric kettle, and a few glass domes holding pastries and other baked goods within, sweet and savory alike. She'll grab herself a refresher first. )

I'm a surgeon where I've come from, but I largely applied my skill as a combat medic or as a volunteer in war relief with healing technology I had developed some years ago; I'm used to dealing with a fair dose of paranoia for foreign services and have tried to make this as welcoming as possible, yes. I also do work with prosthetics and cybernetics, if you're familiar. Are you certain I can't get you something to drink? I have some pastries here as well, from a friend of mine. I always look forward to company.

I'm never terribly busy, which is a good thing, of course.

( It meant that not too many people are running around getting themselves hurt, though she does see an uptick come the sanguine moon. )

He does enjoy snacks, yes. Perhaps he'll be in a better mood with a bit of adventurous snacking.

[ He ruffles the soft fur on Nisha's head and the massive mastiff's mood seems to ease somewhat, rocking his head back and forth underneath Belias's hand. He laughs, though his interest perks back up. She's handy with tools, then?

Belias certainly didn't expect a doctor to know their way around tools of that nature... none of the healers or doctors at home did. Curious. ]

Yes, I think that's what it was. I can point it out to you if need be. Though... a war medic, you say? [ So like the multiple war mages in the army at home. That he understands. ]

I'm afraid I'm not familiar with either one of those, though I think I've heard the doctors that tend to me talk to me about pres... pros? Prosthetics? [ The brightness in his face dims a little, eyes skirting away. His hand drops to his thigh, settling against his knee. Even if he moves his thigh lightly, there's no movement from knee down, and it almost looks like he's trying to cover that up. ] It seems like very complex work. I can't make heads or tails of it, so I imagine even if you are not busy often, when you get work, it takes up a good bit of your time.

[ He huffs through his nose good-naturedly. ] I wouldn't want to trouble you, but then I saw those pastries, and I can't help myself... yes, I would appreciate a drink if you are willing. Are those from one of the Moonblessed bakeries?

Then we have no choice; give me just a moment.

( She only has to pop over to her desk and get into a small fridge that seems to be beneath it in one corner, a little white paper deli bag produced and one of those jerkied sausages produced before she's slicing it into smaller pieces with an unfolded swiss army knife. Then she's bustling right back across the office with the pieces on a napkin before setting them on a paper plate she's also setting a pastry on, humming a soft acknowledgement to his question as she sets out picking a mug. )

I'll find it, so please don't trouble yourself, Belias. And that's correct; prosthetics are replacement body parts to maintain mobility, an cybernetics are the same, but assisted by technology for better movement. Like the robots in this place. It is rather complicated, but being able to help others is always worth it. It's why I do what I do.

Now, let's see... I have coffee with cream, sugar, or a caramel cream, or I have peppermint, vanilla chai, or green tea. Which would you like? It's truly no trouble at all. I appreciate the company!

( It's a difficult topic, to begin with, moreso for someone already in a wheelchair even if she doesn't know why; she'll keep the conversation going and her tone soft, glancing over to the slight fall of his expression and how he drops his hand to his leg without so much as a twitch. Paralyzed? Maybe. The assessment is done out of her peripheral and in quick, natural glances, trying not to make it obvious. )

One of my good friends here bakes them, yes. Though he doesn't have a bakery just yet! He's an older gentleman, tall, with cat ears and a tail like a tiger even outside of the moons. He's an excellent cook.

Ah, yes, the 'robots'...

[ He says it carefully, trying not to mispronounce it. It's not a word he's familiar with, and it's hard to wrap his mind around it. Thinking on his choices carefully, he huffs out a soft laugh. ]

The chai is most familiar to me, if I'm not mistaken. It is a sort of spiced tea, isn't it? Yes, I'd like that, please.

I've not met your friend, at least I do not think so - but I would certainly welcome the chance to taste another baker's things. Cooking is as much a cultural exchange as anything else in this place. Though I'd never heard of others having features outside of the moons.

Not a technology where you've come from, I take it? You're far from alone in that, honest. But where I'm from, they're far more than just city cleaners or automated drivers of trains. They've developed their own sentience from artificial learning and are regular members of society, like anyone else in the city. They have their own homes and families, careers, motivations and religion. It's quite something.

( His answer for the tea has her humming her reply and nodding, electric kettle turned on and scooping the loose leaf from the tin into a diffuser to place in the mug, pouring in the hot water once it's beeping at her some seconds later. She tips her head toward the table by the sofa and sets his mug and plate down for him, picking a couple pieces of the sausage up. )

Nisha, wasn't it? May I? ( The bit of sausage is offered in the palm of her hand laid flat, smiling at the dog and patiently holding still. ) His name is Bardo; if you ever get the chance to meet him, I would highly recommend teasing him. He takes it in stride, but he'll surprise you with just how cute he can be in response. You're certainly right, though, on the cultural exchange. These landjaeger here are from my country, and while they may not be quite the same, it's nice to be able to share it with others so they get a taste. Do you like to cook as well, Belias?

Oh! Yes, the features aren't as common, but there have certainly been others who naturally possessed their own animal-like traits. Not everyone here is entirely human, after all. I met a lovely young woman with the lower half of a horse, and she's absolutely the sweetest. Her husband is the same. I believe she called herself a jinba? Where I've come from, they would be mythical creatures from stories called "centaurs".

[ Belias watches Nisha sniff at her hand, and then at the sausage, gently plucking it out of her palm so he can chew and enjoy. Belias huffs through his nose at watching him with a fond smile. Nisha's tail wags fiercely and he licks her palm. Well, looks like he's in better spirits now. ]

I do like to cook, yes. I learned a lot as a child, and with all the food-testers to make sure one isn't poisoned at the table, it was imperative that I knew what flavors were which so I would not raise a false alarm. My taste can be more sensitive than others.

I'll commit the name and note to tease to memory. [ He grins briefly, unable to hide his curiosity. ] A friend of mine turned into a dragon-like creature... it really is wondrous, what kinds of myths come alive in such a place. And yet we all have to worry ourselves with hum-drum normalcy all while these fantastical things happen around us.

[ Well, he has to, anyway. Being "normal" when everyone is so amazing is... well, it's a little disheartening, but he's trying to keep his spirits up. ]

I imagine that they must blend in with the natives here. In my lands, people who are not human are often shunned or exploited. It is heartening to see that there are places where this is not the case.

( Angela's crouched down to present a friendlier size, smile warming as Nisha takes up the sausage and even gives her a little lick after, and she places the second piece in her palm for him to consider after. See? She's a nice person; no need to worry about her, buddy.

She turns her head to continue her conversation with Belias as the dog chews and considers the next piece, brows pinching up in a bit of fond perplexity as that royal reminder comes up again. She's being quite inappropriate, isn't she? But he doesn't seem to mind, and he'd insisted she only call him by his name, as well. )

That certainly makes sense, though I'm sorry to hear it was more out of necessity than enjoyment. I never had the chance to learn, and my attempts to do so on my own have been... questionable, at best. I'm a little too scientific in my approach, I think, haha. I'll be sure not to try and cook for you until I've had some proper practice.

This place truly is something, though, you're right. I suppose I already had the honor of knowing a spirit dragon of sorts where I'm from, but they were certainly creatures of myth and make-believe until I saw her. She's a family heirloom of sorts from one of my dear friends. His brother has two, as well. It's hard to believe when there was otherwise nothing like "magic" or "powers" where I'm from. People could do fantastic things with technology, of course, but it was always through some sort of technology. Never an inherent ability.

( Which is to say, yes, she's just as normal and human as he is, and she understands. She doesn't let it dishearten her though when she can instead delight in it existing in others, but that's her scientific mind at work. )

I think they're still quite wondrous to the natives here, since they don't seem to have anything like horses, haha. But I'm glad for much the same; I don't like to see anyone discriminated against. It isn't difficult to say "this is a living person and they deserve a place in the world" at the end of the day.

Are there many people who aren't necessarily human, where you're from? What is it like?

[ Nisha seems content to be fed, tail wagging a mile a minute. For a few moments, he thinks, not speaking - and then regards Angela with a serious expression. ]

I only met someone who was not human a handful of years ago. He was treated like chattel, and I granted him sanctuary within my country. We soon found out that he was not the only of his kind, and that his people were treated similarly.

My country may not have been at fault for doing such terrible things, but my country exists to broker peace and secure a brighter future among our lands. That it happened at all weighs heavy on my mind, and to try and stem that poisonous thought brought war to our doorsteps - exactly what I was meant to prevent.

[ Which does explain why there are some scars over the skin that's visible. Maybe even why he's in the chair to begin with. His eyes grow a bit distant. ]

All because we are not of the same kind...

I would agree with you. They are living, breathing people - with a thriving culture and a hidden history that could have been lost to the world. Humanity should not be the mark with which we measure others. If we are inhumane in our treating others, is it not us who have failed...?

[ ... wait. He starts, suddenly a little sheepish. ]

My apologies, doctor. That was a bit much to speak my mind on.

( Angela chances a little scritch beneath one ear with nails just long enough to be perfect for it, smiling. softly as the pup enjoys the treats. When she glances back to Belias as he begins to speak, the change from an otherwise mild expression isn't one she misses. She'll shift upright just long enough to take the step back and perch herself on the edge of the sturdy coffee table, sitting before him to listen.

He has her attention and a gentle smile with understanding in her eyes, just a touch sad. It sounds familiar. Omnics may not be "human", but the discrimination and oppression was much the same. They weren't treated like sentient beings. His eyes grow distant and Angela reaches to cover his hand with her own, soft. Nothing difficult to pull away from if she startles him. )

I understand; I've seen much the same. I'm so sorry your good intentions fell short on those that didn't understand. People can be quite blind, can't they? When they'd rather overlook similarities for differences. ( And to the apology, her smile only warms and she shakes her head just as soft in the motion. ) It wasn't too much at all. I agree with you. We can all be foolish little animals when we feel threatened by what we don't know.

( What she does instead is gather up his tea and press it into his palms, cooled enough to be a pleasant heat in the hands, fingertips smoothing over the scarred back of one. She doesn't ask. )

[ Oh.

He doesn't flinch - he's used to being touched - but he relaxes at her words, ruffling his hair a bit with some embarrassment, bangs falling to cover one of his eyes. ]

Thank you. [ He briefly squeezes her hand back before he clasps the mug, taking a few sips with satisfaction. ]

If I may - I've a question to ask you, business-minded.

( There's nothing to be embarrassed about, except on her behalf for how easily she reaches out to touch royalty, perhaps. And she scarcely considers it by this point. Doctors had to be impartial on all fronts, and she'll only ever treat those who pass through her hands as equals. At least her acknowledgement seems to help and some of that tension winding him up once more seeps back out, and he ruffles his hair which only earns her amusement.

It's a terribly mundane thing to do, but the bit of contact even from one's own hand is always a pleasant thing to help relax. As if one could vent the heat off their brain and find their calm once more. To his thanks, she only bows her head in a drawn out acknowledgement with gold lashes brushing her cheeks, demure and polite. )

Of course. You have my full attention, Belias.

[ In a way, she reminds him of Sachiko - she's not hard of hearing, but there's a calmness to her and a latent mischief. It's... nice. ]

May it be possible to change the care services I was being given from the central hospital here? I think I would be more comfortable.

The beach calms me.

( Whatever it was she had been expecting him to ask, it hadn't been to change "providers"; her smile warms immediately and the hand that had been reaching for her cup of coffee instead returns to her knee.

Like she said, her full attention. )

Oh, absolutely; I'll call them shortly and put in a request for your files. And it will be no hard feelings if you give me a try and decide otherwise, honest. I would much rather you be comfortable.

May I ask what you were undergoing treatment for, with the Prismals?

[ He knows he can't just... keep that quiet. If he's going to change from the central hospital to her services, he has to, first... tell her what's wrong with him.

And yet, when Belias opens his mouth, nothing comes out. He starts out meeting her eyes, almost like he is confident in his condition, but when he can't even start to verbalize what his 'treatment' was, he starts to slowly silt, eyes slipping down and fingers curling tighter around his mug as he sets it on his thighs.

In a way, it's obvious. In another way, it isn't.

He taps his thumb against the mug, and Nisha lets out a soft doggy noise of confusion. It makes him halfheartedly smile, knowing his guard dog is concerned he's lapsed into silence. ]

My calves do not function. That is... I cannot walk or stand on them. The source of that... disability, as they call it - does not have a clear-cut scientific basis. They have said that I have close to what's considered an 'allergy' to magic, as it were, and my injury stems from my body being attacked with magic. I am very weak and susceptible to it, and my body will react to magical healing with pain and even hurt itself, so I have needed special care in this... very magic-heavy world.

For the most part, it is just routine care, but alternate ways of moving have been breached aside from my chair.

( No, he can't, but she did phrase it in a way that gave him a choice to broach the subject later. If he wanted to come at another time, perhaps, a little more prepared to share, allow her a physical and ease into it— but some things are best leapt right into.

When he tries to answer and nothing comes out, her hand comes to rest on his nearest knee and she offers him her sweetest brand of patience. Reassurance that he can take his time and she isn't rushing him; after all, what other "patients" are around? She'll hold his gaze as long as he offers it and her hand stays put even as he rests his mug down in his lap. It's clear his legs don't work, at least partially. She remembered seeing muscle movement in his thighs, but not below the knee. And bodies are such mysterious things, aren't they? It could be a pinched nerve in his spine, a ruptured disk, tendon damage, muscle atrophy, really, many things. )

I understand; lucky for you, then, that I'm from a world without magic, hmm? ( She'll give his leg a little squeeze, reassuring him once more by touch and by smile, tipping her head just slightly in what he'll come to find preempts her questions. ) The chroma of this place, then— does it hurt you...? Or does it not register as magical for what your body knows and is allergic to?

I have specialized in prosthetic and cybernetic limbs and replacement organs for over a decade, and that comes with a side of physical therapy, all "manual", as it were. I won't chance my nanotechnology on you either, and it doesn't sound as though it would help either way. But getting you out of this chair is a perfectly possible move, if that's what you'd like to set as a goal. But first I'd rather set another day to meet where you're ready for a physical and to see what we're working with. I wouldn't ask that of you today. I know it needs a bit of time to mentally prepare.

But I'd be happy to have you here, Belias. I'll do what I can, for whatever it is you wish.

[ He tenses at the idea of being out of the chair, and he knows it's ridiculous. Months ago, he would be jumping for joy at the idea. Well - figuratively.

He knows most people don't view the chair as some sort of freedom, even if he does. It's not something he really thinks needs to be out of his life, and he does have some fondness for it. ... and on top of it all, that's what he'll use when he's back home. His home doesn't have all this technology. Thinking of setting that as a goal is - strange to him, and he's not sure what to think about it.

Belias does, however, sag with relief that she's not keen on doing everything right away. ]

... thank you. I understand that I am very fortunate.

[ He leans back in the chair, casting his gaze up to her again. ]

The 'chroma' of this place does not register within my body as magical, no. It is... a natural feeling, if still foreign. More as if it were a foreign energy than a magic of its own.

( She can feel it; beneath her hand, in the very air, pulling taut across his shoulders and feeling immediately she's not quite said the correct thing. So his knee gets another gentle pat and she shakes her head as if to dismiss what she'd stated, trying to clarify. )

You're very welcome. Again, I'll aspire to meet whatever goals you wish. It's up to you. Braces that read the muscles from your thighs, here, and help the rest would be possible with an unobtrusive frame, and you could wear them as you please. It wouldn't be anything you're permanently assigned to use. I'll gather the information I need next time and then present you with possible options and therapeutic plans to think on after that. How's that sound?

( It's truly no pressure, and she's trying to explain that the choice is his but the options are vast, and even installing permanent braces along the tibia with sensors over the knee would be possible, if he ended up liking the concept and trying them otherwise. No one would have to know anything is any different for him. It'd never run out of "power", and he should be able to return home without it failing. Her mind's already racing with possibilities on his behalf and various levels he may speak to.

Hearing that the chroma doesn't hurt him, however, is a boon. It had been a worry that cropped up near-immediately even if he hadn't reacted to her touch as though it had hurt him. )

Oh, good— that's relieving to hear. I was worried it may interfere. I'm sure since it flows in and flows right back out, it shouldn't be construed as terribly much. May I?

( She gestures to his legs, as if to gather one up with the way she cups her hand. Just for a quick massage and to feel the state of his muscles, if they've atrophied or shrunk down or if his previous care kept him "active". )

[ He doesn't quite catch all the things she's saying - how can a brace read his muscles? Is it like the way he can read other people's faces? - but he can get the gist. Nothing permanent. Something he could choose to use.

He stills again, but not out of fear or dismay. He needs a moment for the gears in his mind to turn. ]

Oh - ah, yes. You may.

[ He lifts his thigh a bit, calf unmoving, letting her touch as she pleases. ]

I think... that sounds fine. I am still learning the technology of this world, so I apologize for not understanding you.

[ After a few months of being here and a few months at home not being able to walk at all without any real care, there's clear atrophy and weakness in his calf muscles, with no response at all to her touch. His thighs in comparison are much stronger, but even they show signs of not being as strong as they used to be. ]

( The pinch of her brows is a bit apologetic, and it's likely an expression he'll be seeing on her face often; but she has his attention and it's a moment as he tries to process what it was she'd said before he gets to her question, allowing her to take his nearest leg. His thigh lifts in offering and slender fingers curl under his knee, gathering it up just enough she can maneuver it to stretch without bumping the table or turning him away from where his tea and pastry are set. She kneads gently above the knee first, at the muscles of his thigh, fingertips pressing and stroking up to feel every minor shift and tense of movement before she's feeling out his knee and checking for a reflex response with a solid knock of the flats of her fingers. Not painful, but enough to cause the muscles and tendons to clench insofar as they're able, if at all.

And as she works, she's shaking her head again, humming quietly. )

Please don't apologize; that is on me to find a way to explain it so you can understand it as well. I'll have everything drawn out for you next time. Visuals always help.

( Then one hand begins to knead down the soft tissue of his calf, feeling the muscle beneath, and she glances up with a tiny tip of her head. )

Can you at least feel my touch, or is it not even that?

( And down to the ankle as she slips off the edge of her seat and kneels on the floor, slipping off whatever he might have had on for shoes or slippers as her thumbs go down the sides of his foot and under, kneading carefully into the arch. )

It's... very faint. It feels very far away.

[ There's still no twitch or movement in his legs or feet. Though, with one of his loafers off, there's a clear marking along his dark skin - scars all converged across his skin to mimic very dark thorns and brambles winding around his feet, going from his calf.

He furrows a brow, still a little tense. ]

Is that... bad? I had assumed that not being able to feel others was normal when it stops functioning like that.

( It doesn't damper her massage just to hear he can't really feel it; the benefits far outweighed that, nearly as good as actual exercise to manipulate his leg into something resembling movement and encouraging circulation.

His heel rests on her thigh as one hand rubs up and down, the other still at his foot to encourage the roll of his ankle and stretching the proper flexors, only looking at the strange scarring with the pass of her thumb for a moment before he's speaking again. )

Oh, no, sweetheart— it isn't bad. Every case is going to be different and there are so many different types of damage that result in different things. There are nerves all along the body that detect sensation and relay it back to your brain. But there are tendons along the limbs that allow us to move that can be damaged and result in a lack of movement without affecting the nerves, or nerve damage that can develop from multiple diseases without any physical injuries sustained, or from back injuries to the spinal column. ( Every time she names something, she's indicating it with touch, tendons running up the back of his ankle and touching his waist to indicate his back, the curl of cool fingers waving up toward his head. ) It's just a question that tells me a little bit more about the nature of the injury.

( And so she slips his loafer back on and replaces his leg in the chair's stirrup, then reaches to repeat the massage on the other, shoe slipped right off to rest his heel on her lap again. )

This scarring is quite unique; was it acquired around the same time?

( She's careful in how she asks questions; it's never prying, just simple yes or no confirmations for roundabout information gathering on the topic at hand. )

[ He actually seems to nod, following along with her explanation. Momentary bouts of clarity show on his face clearly before she moves onto something else, and he tries to keep going with her. It's a bit of a difficult course, but he is understanding.

He tries to be the same to her - she may not be prying, but he knows that his doctors always wanted as much information as he could give them. ]

Ah... yes, it's because of the magic that was used to heal me. As even healing magic hurts me, it left behind scarring while saving my life.

Thank you for explaining. I think I understand. You're checking both legs in case they're hurt differently, I assume?

( She doesn't mean to keep throwing so much information at him, trying to keep it in manageable pieces with enough to indicate what she speaks of, but he seems to be following just fine. It's essentially an anatomy lesson condensed down to just a few functions, and they're about on par with one another's distance when he speaks to her in turn of magic. )

I'm sorry to hear that, but still— I'm glad it wasn't worse, and it did manage to save you. I apologize as well for the impromptu anatomy lesson, haha. Bodies are complicated things at the best of times.

And, yes and no; massage like this is nearly as good at exercising to keep the muscle moving and supple. Just as you water plants and give them sunlight to "feed" them and keep them from withering, so too do you move your body and keep it fed and watered to keep it from withering the same. Even if you don't have the ability to move your legs yourself, the act of having them moved will keep the muscle functioning and halt its atrophy. I already saw to one, so I might as well take care of the other.

Was the medical staff at the Scientia not doing this for you? It's quite basic therapy.

No, they seemed to have some trouble not applying magical remedies to my situation. I have a tendency to be a bit reckless, so... they have their hands full treating my injuries, most of the time.

I have had some treatment, thankfully, but... not like this, no. I suppose it's something I'll have to do, I've been ignoring them...

[ Though he truthfully doesn't sound very enthused to have to do so. ]

Well, you have me, now. ( It's spoken gently, fondness already warming her tone as one hand slips up above his knee to knead at the muscle there, just so he had something he could feel more readily. ) No matter what happens, I'm sure I'll be able to tend to it.

( And because she hears that lack of enthusiasm for the treatment needed: )

And I'll never turn down company as often as you wish to drop by; my days are often quite slow. Besides, I enjoy the chance to dote on my friends.

( Which is the roundabout way of offering to do this for him as often as he feels like accepting. She can't quite tell if it's that he doesn't want to be the one to touch his own legs or if he just doesn't like them being touched in general, but the offer stands. She'll take care of him to the best of her ability. )

I never did ask what your country was like, did I? What it looks like, and what sorts of foods you have.

( Boy is that an obvious distraction or what? )

second ☕✨ text (opening a clinic & a game!)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

o my heart 😭

this will get worse before it gets better orz

I'm here to be destroyed all hours of the day

same tbh

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)