#doctorsomers

[simulamortem]

@doctorsomers​ cont. from x

"Maybe I need to be a nuisance.”

The sim was in the habit of making occasional impromptu visits to most of the Legends, and it had BEEN AWHILE since it had been doc’s turn. There had been no sound from the doors to signal Revenant’s entering the lab; more likely the simulacrum had entered SILENTLY from the vents.

He crept closer along the ceiling until dropping down not far from the other Legend, rising from the crouch he’d landed in and stepping forward to close the remaining distance. Though WELL AWARE of all Horizon’s tech and improvisation when it came to MAKING SPACE between them, he seemed to have no qualms with helping himself to her personal bubble anyway.

Optics fell to the device being worked on as Revenant leaned back against the desk... idly reaching toward a stray wire amidst the thing’s exposed electronic innards, no doubt with the express purpose of testing its owner’s PATIENCE.

[falskihundr]

i trust you to help me.

"Help you?" Bloodhound's tone was non-judgemental, but . . . curious. Mary did not often have need of someone with the hunter's skill set. Most things, she found a way to solve through intellect--through her science.

They regarded her carefully. There wasn't much use for their tracking capabilities. Unless, of course, she was looking for something.

Although, the last time she had reached out to another Legend for help in finding something, Bloodhound heard that it had gone poorly for her. Hopefully they could provide a better experience.

She was trusting them to do so, which was a funny thing to say.

"I am happy to try, Doctor Somers, but . . . what help do you seek?"

[sveer]

@doctorsomers: Why are you looking at me like that?

It was distracting. At least for the past minute, where they sat on the roof watching the third ring closing. Blood, dark as red wine, was streaming down the doctor's cheek. Whether it was hers or someone else’s was easily up to debate. 

There was this saying about the performing industry: if something couldn’t be fixed in five minutes, don't bother bringing it up at all. 

“May I?” Was Seer’s only warning, before leaning in. Gingerly, from sideways, he framed the doctor’s face with both hands and swiped at one freckled cheek with his thumb. Crimson coated his gold-tipped fingertips. Even if Seer couldn't see it, he certainly felt the deep gash beneath.

“You are... bleeding, Mrs. Somers.” Seer murmured, gaze gentle, but there was something vaguely scolding to his tone. Surely that had to sting. “How did you not know?”