Welcome to Gaia! ::

The door opened and Peyton glanced up at the person on the other side of it. He was about the same height as the person she was used to finding on the other side of the door, but there was a distinct lack of dark hair, stubble, or mingled scent of cleaning supplies and cigarette smoke. "Hey Jordan." She sounded vaguely surprised to see him, but not in a bad way. "How's it going?"

Stepping back, she opened the door for him to come in.

Her room was mostly neat. The bed was mad, there weren't any clothes laying all over the place. It could have been more organized, but it looked comfortable. There was an empty whiskey bottle and a sling laying on her desk.

Peyton took a seat on the edge of her bed and hooked a foot under her desk chair to pull it out for Jordan. She used her left hand to gesture to it, both as an invitation to sit, as well as an answer to his question. Grinning, she wiggled her fingers at him. "Mobility is coming back, not all the way yet, and there's no real strength in my arm, but it's something." She also couldn't lift it higher then midway up her torso, but the notable improvement seemed to have her in a good mood.

"Warrick says to give him another couple weeks, and I should be good as new." She didn't mention her worry spawned doubts, they weren't helpful. Warrick didn't take them personally, he knew his partner was just scared.

"It should make the tournament fairly interesting," she mused, gaze dropping to her hand as she flexed her fingers and rotated her wrist.

She shrugged, but the motion only followed through on the right side. "For the most part without, but if it's bothering me use the sling." Obvious disdain for the thing leaked into her voice. She hated having to use it, the necessity of it, and had taken it off the first chance she got. Possibly not the wisest course, but she was remarkably stubborn for someone so small.

"The healing gets better the more bonded you become?" That was good to know. Injuries were probably something she could expect to endure for the rest of her life, short as it may be, so a speedy recovery was very appealing. Specially for a front line offensive soldier.

As for the Life techs. "Kind of." It didn't seem to her like she'd been a priority, which at the time had been panic inducing, but now, all things considered, had meant she wasn't as badly hurt as she'd felt. Something worth remembering for later, though in the heat of the moment she doubted something like that would resurface helpfully.

"Yes." She watched his face, waiting for the disapproval, but smiled when none was offered. The thought that she could simply back out had simply never occurred to her until Taym had mentioned it in question. He'd suggested she go through with it, said she was probably more capable one handed then most of the combatants she was going to be up against. She wasn't sure she believed that, but she was going to find out. "I'd love a little moral support, so sure."

Pale eyes widened. "That all sounds pretty amazing." Accelerated healing, steady growth in power. Really it sounded better then amazing. Warrick hadn't said anything, but she could feel his budding curiosity and excitement like a weight in her head.

As the topic redirected back to her shoulder she gave it an experimental roll. It didn't feel stiff to her, yet, but there was a promise of it as more and more of the damage was repaired. Rapidly repaired at that, Peyton could definitely see how an injury like her's held the potential for stiffening up if left unchecked. She liked to think being generally fit helped. She ran three times a week, and that included a lot of stretching. Not to mention near daily training.

Smiling, she gave her finger's a flex. "Allen is kind of unique, but he seems like really good people." A lot better then some division heads, to be sure. Rumors seldom painted flattering pictures.

"Everyone keeps saying I'll do fine. I really hope I don't prove them wrong." But at least she was trying. That counted.