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Alphonse Wingates-St. Grey

Perhaps it was the pain, but Alphonse thought he saw something... odd. He had been looking around the room and noting how many people were here and how no one had yet been helped. He searched for someone in charge and then to the person next to him to ask if they knew something. Surely, someone knew why it was taking this long.

And that is when he saw it. Or thought he saw it. A faint flicker of shadow on the face of the person next to him.

But when he looked again, it was gone. He clearly was no longer thinking straight. He apparently couldn’t handle pain well either. Perhaps he should ask for help?

✪

Toren Estel


It was loud and busy as it usually was and Torin closed his eyes as he sat before a rustling caught his attention. Opening his eyes, he looked at a pair of double doors. A arrow for examination room pointed its red arrow across the floor into the doors. It was the most peculiar noise. Like scratching at the door and he couldn't help but wonder if someone's therapy dog was on the ither side - and needed it's nails trimmed apparently.

Rising up in his seat, he looked around but knew the staff was too occupied. "Hey, anyone hear -"

And just like that some obnoxious p***k felt so self entitled to start screaming. There was always one of those people here. Someone who wanted bumped to the front of the line.

He shot a glare at the man. "That's not helping."

Desdemona didn't think much of the response; maybe it was a little irrational, but she was just generally agitated by incompetence, and so she chalked it up to that. Still, though, that rumbled response in her ear made her quiver in a pleasant way, a sly grin lighting her face. Not the time, not the place, maybe - but that didn't mean she wasn't glancing across the hall at the unmarked door of what she hoped and assumed was a supply closet. Just for reference. If they were kept waiting too long, it was no fault of theirs if they found a more pleasant way to pass the time, right?

It was nice having him back against her, too. His weight was pleasant, familiar. She hummed lightly again, and without even thinking, her response was an airy, "No." A gut response, and she kind of cringed because it was a little too easy to lie - and in this case, it didn't really seem fair. "I mean. Well. Yes and no. It depends, I suppose."

She bit her lip like she did sometimes when she was thinking hard, or just a little unsure. "Amphitrite was easy." Her voice had dropped to barely above a whisper; one never knew who was listening. "I had - have - a lot of anger, and I had a lot of people willing to channel that anger into something productive. And new senshi crop up every day, so it's not like I was out of place. It's the every day stuff that was... more of a challenge, I guess you could say."

With that, she shut her eyes, humming softly again. "It's good that you remember Ax. I'd be terribly offended if you forgot about me, you know."

Jacqueline "Jack" Maaz

Oh dear, she'd made the other girl nervous. Well that hadn't been her intention at all. She'd just been curious what the other girl had been looking at.

And now she was sort of shouting across the room Jack's cheeks darkened with a blush as she wiggled her fingers again, looking incredibly sheepish at this point, because she really hadn't meant to cause any sort of fuss.

"H-hi." The other girl was waving her over towards an empty seat beside her, and not wanting to disappoint, Jack gathered her phone and her purse and cross the room to fill it.

This close it was hard to miss the way the other girl had her hand curled close to her body. Swollen and bruised, it looked really painful, and Jack winced, drawing a quick breath between her teeth as she flicked bright eyes up from the injury to purple eyes. "That looks really painful, are you alrigh-"

A scream from deeper in the building made her jump, and Jack paled as she soaked in the words. "Oh no..." What in God's name is going on back there? It didn't look short staffed, there were nurses and doctors moving around all over the place, but it didn't seem like anyone was really leaving the waiting room anymore, and that voice..

"What's going on in this place tonight?" It was soft, mostly rhetorical, because of course the girl beside her wouldn't know the answer.



Otto Moor

That easy smile faded at that quick, automatic answer, but after a beat Des elaborated, and the tension that'd started to creep through broad shoulders ceased and melted away again, and he drew her hand into his lap where long fingers could play across her delicate ones. Trailing softly over her knuckles and along her palm.

"The civilian side of things?" He asked to clarify, voice just as soft as her's. This was probably the last place they should have been talking about this, but now that he'd brought it up he couldn't seem to let it alone. Adjusting, for him, was proving to be a challenge on both fronts. He remembered most of his civilian life, but he'd had to walk away from the majority of it. Things only every really seemed to feel alright when he was around Dessy, or Rory. They were the closest thing to family he had left, and he wasn't sure what he'd do if he didn't have them to lean on.

The very idea that it could have been his civilian memories he'd lost when Labyrinthite had made the choice to pull him to their side was alarming. Though he supposed he couldn't very well miss what he didn't remember. Still... "I couldn't forget you if I tried," he assured her with a smile, kneading thumbs into her palm.

"Did-" A scream cut through the relative quiet of the clinic and Otto startled, tensing beside Dessy and staring in the direction the cry had come from. <********> He really wasn't to just leave.

Swallowing past the mounting unease, he tried to narrow down his focus to her and her alone. "Did we ever cross paths before, powered?"

Imara White

"Your own fault." And with that she fell silent, gazing back around the room. It was then she caught someone muttering and smirked to herself.

"My thoughts as well." Imara called out to the male who looked as if his shoulder was causing issues. "Not to mention, overly busy."



----
Satine de LaSalle

"Makes two of us. Last thing I want is to be told 'hey, you are staying the night here or in a bigger hospital'." Satine offered back, shivering for a second as more and more people flooded in. It was getting busy.

"If this keeps up though, we are going to be here until sunrise. Because some of these people need a doctor faster than our silly bugs."

"I'm Satine by the way...I'd shake your hand but..." She gave him a sorry look.

It was so interesting how he responded to her... although in this case, she really did think the tension was a fair response. It was a fair question, if uncommon. “Yes.” Desdemona quietly savored the adoring little ministrations, and she gave a barely audible sigh. “I just felt horribly disconnected - no, that’s not even right, more - I was very aware that I was pretending when I was Desdemona. I still am.” Then she smiled, not exactly sheepishly, but, “For most people, the officer, the senshi, they’re the secret identity - for me, it feels like the other way around. - it was the same for Poppy I think, so that made it easier - oh, god, you still haven’t met Poppy - “ she realized suddenly with a short laugh, because what a detail to overlook.

The way he said it - about not forgetting - made her smile, lips curling like a cat that had gotten into the cream.

With the scream ringing through the air, Desdemona tensed for a second, that flare of predatory instinct bright in her eyes, every muscle tensed for action if it was needed - the moment didn’t come though, and slowly, she relaxed again, although her eyes remained bright and alert.

Then, that question. And she hesitated, because, “Yes, once.” There was that biting of the lip again. “We never battled or anything, if you were worried. It... wasn’t a good time for me.” That was putting it lightly. Very, very lightly. “Do you remember that night I called you? - when I was - not myself, I guess you could say, “ when she had broken down and sobbed in his arms, a moment of weakness unlike any other. “It’s because of that. Not something you did, but something that happened.”