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Maebe woke up laughing.

It wasn't a loud laugh, or especially joyful. It was a very quiet chuckle, and it wasn't actually the first thing she'd done since she woke up. It was simply the first indication that she wasn't dead on that gurney, even though she'd been awake for at least ten minutes prior to the sound.

But after Cael's rousing speech, she couldn't help herself. The chuckle escaped, and her ruse was pushed aside in order to say the important response to what she'd just heard.

"What a load of s**t."

Apparently, Maebe did not think highly of Caelius' work ethic.

Oh no were they going to fight already? Cami's temper was on the tiniest of edges and she didn't want to explode at them. She also didn't want to really kick this Life tech in the face because it would hurt like a ********. Thankfully there seemed to be someone new coming over, someone arguing, and then...blessed narcotics. Teeth went hard into her lip to bite the yelp back as her back burned, then cooled, before going numb entirely.

Otto's hand was tight in her own as she was unwilling to let go at all. "Nope, I'm impossible to kill. Even Medea couldn't get to me, there's steel around my heart and it'll keep beating." It sounded a bit like a song. It made her rather happy.

Turning her head towards where Maebe was laying the redhead had only a sigh. "Well yeah but you can't just say that, Maebe baby. Just smile and nod or something."

Otto wouldn't comment on the Caelius conversation. A conversation with him was unrequited, one sided, and always deadly.

He would have shrugged at Maebe's concern, but for whatever reason, shrugging seemed impossible. He finally looked down at his arm. It was indeed, in poor shape. "Fine... look, I'll meet you girls later, okay? Stop by my place when you're out of here." Please? He was relieved they wee safe, but part of him did not want this to be the last time he saw them that night. If he went to bed all alone, he knew only darkness would be there for him.

Otto let go of Cami's hand, and left to get his arm seen to. It turned out to be a shoulder injury from falling. A laceration, some impact burn, followed by a broken clavicle all on the left side of his body. At least disaster had spared his dominant right hand beyond scrapes and cuts.

Reluctant to let go of his hand Cami nonetheless let Otto walk off, laughing a bit at him. "Well I live there too so, guarantee it." The odds of Otto going to bed alone were so slim as to be quite minuscule. The odds of Maebe going to bed alone were a little bigger but only because she was more likely to put up a fight that the Sun trainee didn't think she had the energy or willpower to fight right now. "I'll make sure Maebe baby comes." She called after him, turning to smile at their girl.

It disappeared, entirely, at the words. "But he asked for you. He didn't even remember that I lived with him." She frowned, pillowing her head on her arms as the techs began to construct an elaborate bandage for her back. Were those runics? "I won't argue that I deserve to be loved. I want to be loved. But so do you." Turning her head back again blue met blue and held. "And, either way, I still love you. Did you think I offered to die for you just because you're pretty?" She tsked.

"You're silly."

Pictures moved beneath Hanna's eyelids. Some true, like transforming from Hunter to Ancient to Hunter to Horseman to Hunter again, and others were blurred manifestations of her muddled consciousness -- an empty crib, her mother crying and then reversing, tears crawling back up into her eyes like ants up a wall. When the grogginess finally subsided enough to brave the low light burning through her closed eyes, Hanna found herself in a tent and on the ground beside a smattering of other Hunters. Instinctively, she began to sit up, but the room pitched painfully. She eased back down with a wince, checking her ears to see that her totem was still there, still safe.

I'm always here, ghoulie. You're the one who leaves, Adelphe said, the edges of her voice tinged with something like fear and sadness. It was an emotion the siren did not frequently divulge.

It was true, though. Hanna had left her when she was repodded, though unintentionally, and eventually, Hanna would leave her by dying -- but Adelphe would continue on, another tablet back on the wall, waiting to choose its next ward. The thought did not sadden Hanna; instead, she felt jealous. The idea of the kind of immortality Adelphe possessed was appealing to her, not that she would trade control of her body for it.

Laying on the ground, Hanna watched the parade of Hunters walking by, stiffening when Caelius appeared with a strange weapon in hand. One day, she would be like them: one of the people still standing after the battle ebbed, not another body crumpled on the floor. As a possible first step toward that direction, the Death Hunter forced herself up, propping on her elbows for a few minutes before (slowly, painfully) swinging into a haphazard cross-legged pose.

"Scan the rest for signs of infection," Caelius said.

A chill lanced up Hanna's spine. Her last infection had ended with a firebombing and centipede-exorcism from her skin -- not to mention a week in the infirmary. She had no desire to go back. Thankfully, nothing appeared to be broken on her. Each movement brought a stab of pain -- bruised ribs, no doubt. Hopefully not broken. It would hurt more if it was broken, right? Her left knee looked swollen, as if it had been dislocated multiple times. Her shoulder was in a similar state. Large sections of skin were scraped until scabbed, and a few techs were picking through the crowd, checking in on the wounds that needed immediate attention.

Yeah, Hanna looked like s**t.

Raking dirty fingernails through a filthy mass of red hair, Hanna rubbed at the sunburn pinking on her cheeks. It had formed around her goggles, giving her a bizarre ghost-like appearance around the eyes. Hanna head just begun to contemplate checking for her friends when Caelius began to address the assorted disarray of Hunters.

She stilled, eyes fixed on Caelius, save the occasional blink. Each word felt designed for her. She desired more information. She complained about the lack of it. She wanted power and experience. She wanted to do her job well. The critical side of her wanted to call out about a lack of reasonable opportunity for her. Hanna had been hustling as much as she could, meeting walls at every turn. Being low on the totem pole tied her hands somewhat -- how could she buck the system to seek out more information and yet know her role and respect higher ranks? Caelius seemed to be ignoring that.

This didn't stop her from agreeing with everything he said.

Yes, Hanna had been resting on her lack of knowledge. It bothered her. She tried to change it, but she could do more, had to do more. When Caelius mentioned writing a report, the redheaded Death Hunter reached into her coat, pulling out the same notepad she had used when setting barrier daggers with Cami. Flipping to the last page she was writing on, Hanna scanned the last set of notes she had written and then began to feverishly update them.

Hanna was a Death Hunter. She could do the s**t out of paperwork. Step one to self-improvement? Write a spectacular report. The kind not worth using as a large coaster for some higher-ups coffee mug. The kind someone might actually read.

Time to get to work.

Jake woke up, and groaned. He ached all over, and by now, he really didn't care. He didn't remember half the missions he went on (or at least, what he thought he remembered was probably off), and just lay there, hoping he wouldn't have to do anything for a bit longer.

He heard something about being infection, and Caelius' usual speech about how useless they all were and sighed. Nothing new here. Part of him wondered if he should move. He really didn't want to. Though... maybe he should try finding Sherry.

There was a tug at his hands, he at first wondered if it was one of the Life techs wanting him to move. They probably wouldn't have been as gentle to go for his hand, might have been more direct and shoved or ordered. And it definitely was someone better, Milo saw, when he finally pried open his eyes. "Heh, looks like you're the one walkin' around this time, ya?" Still, a small joke and in the lightest of moods. Despite everything.

His body protested at his next course of action, as he sat up so swiftly and so suddenly and wrapped his arms around the Mist. He ignored them though, and ignored Koume's snappy words - and then her little comments about the girl. "'m real glad you're okay, Noemi-chan." Even though he couldn't remember the ideals of Death, he could still remember her form laying helpless and hurt and that was still bad enough.