If she could describe only use one word to describe her experience working with Rhodes Island, Sora would probably choose the term 'interesting', although, it's still unclear whether she'd tip the scale on it being good or bad, if she's being honest to herself. Counselors were supposed to keep a supportive standing and attitude towards their clients, after all - or at the very least, make sure that they're maintaining a neutral standing for as long as the session lasted.
Rhodes Island Operators were always known for being secretive, even amongst themselves. She knew that there was more to the company than meets the eye, long before she began her work as their resident, temporary counselor. Even from the start, the organization looked more to be a paramilitary group than an everyday, pharmaceutical company, like there's almost this disparity between the amount of Operators when compared to the normal staff members. But then again, she could share that same sentiment to almost everything these days.
The Reunion Movement, first thought to be a mere group of street rioters suddenly made their stance against the world, by utterly destroying Chernobog in just a single night - with personnel, weapons, and technology that could rival Terra's biggest nations. Even Penguin Logistics wasn't exactly clean in their line of business themselves, for a simple delivery company, they'd met their own share of dangers from the world, and even more so now when taking the strange, delicate politics between Rhodes Island and the not-so-Great-anymore Lungmen and their battle against the Reunion. There was a reason why the Operators from the company were well-equipped and trained even for simple delivery missions - the order came straight from the Emperor, after all.
Sora wasn't sure on how to feel regarding interacting with the Rhodes Island personnel. It was... strange, to say the least. Unlike the LGD who always seemed to have their guard up for anyone, everyone, and everything that's not related to their city, Rhodes Island had actually been more than welcoming the their new partners in the new ventures that they're pursuing, even going as far as letting other companies like the Penguin Logistics, BlackSteel, and Rhine Lab to use their Mobile HQ as a forward operating base for them.
So it's not like they're being cautious or unwelcoming towards them, in fact - it's just the opposite. But she still couldn't just shake off the feeling that the Rhodes Island people weren't exactly... open to the others. Most of the time, they just maintained their professional distance and let the other companies like hers to their own thing, while also not making any attempts to approach the others - even just for small talks. Granted, they must have their own reasons for not divulging their secrets, but it was still almost concerning at how secretive they acted.
It's especially apparent when the Doctor requested her help to conduct some psych and mental health evaluation for the company's employees, at least, the select few of them. At first, the Penguin Logistics Operator tried to decline, saying that she was still unqualified to become a full-blown psychologist - hell, she was already breaking way too many medical regulations of the Terran Association of Applied Psychology when she volunteered to become their resident counselor.
That, and she didn't have the stamina to evaluate and/or diagnose too many individuals at once. She had to fulfill her own duties as an Operator for her own company, and her responsibilities as an idol as well as a student. Alas, the Doctor reduced the number to just five specific Operators for her to give her opinion and have some conversation with. He even went as far as preparing their respective dossiers for the idol to review first before calling them in.
Some names were familiar to her, the others were not. She could at least recognize the names of Warfarin and Amiya, with the former being one of the first to initiate interaction with her, while the latter being one of the most common faces she'd see running around the facility - being the assistant to the Rhodes Island leader and all. The rest, she wasn't exactly acquainted with - but she's also pretty sure that at least'd saw them walking around the Headquarters every now and then.
As a counselor, she didn't exactly have a preferred way to approach her clients. Every person was a new story with entirely different backgrounds and other factors for her to take some careful consideration before committing into a single strategy. What kind of occuption, gender, age, race, they were - were they involved in anything recently that may just give some influence to how they act and react - what kind of background or past did they have for them to trigger specific behaviors against something. It may sound a bit exaggerated, but she would probably consider tackling every new subject to be just a intense as an actual battle.
Everytime she met with each of the Operators, she would greet them with a smile, most of them returning it, one didn't, while one wasn't too keen on showing the face behind his mask. She would try to engage in a conversation with them, treating them with respect and whilst also being rather casual to not let the atmosphere degrade into something tense. For the most part, she succeeded in making them talk, despite their own interests to keep their secrets sealed.
At first was the Perro, Dobermann. An Operator with extensive experience in both combat and training rookies of the company, a woman whose mentality was forged through her long-standing career as a military personnel. The only one who didn't return her greeting, and despite understanding the nature of their conversation, she wasn't the one who'd open herself or let her guard down, leading to many awkward silences and intense, unbearable staring contests.
However, Sora knew that deep down, it's not like she detested or didn't want to trust her. In fact, Dobermann cooperated and kept up with the conversation very, very well. Too well, even. But it's within there where the problem laid. It was more like, the Perro didn't saw her as an equal, or even just a mere conversational partner. From the way she behaved and the way she talked, it was all business to her. And Sora really couldn't blame her from having that mindset. Still, it wasn't a sign of true trust if she ever saw one.
The second one to enter was a Defender from Kazimierz, Nearl. And to be honest, Sora'd expected her to act just like the Operator before her. The Kuranta maintained a healthy, res[ected, and practically spotless combat record within the company, and even longer history as her own nation's knight. And like the people of similar backgrounds, she carried herself with respect and honor, with her chin held high, not in arrogance, but in pride.
What was surprising was the fact that the Defender-class was able to open and loosen up a bit during their brief talks, like Dobermann, she was both open and cooperative with her questions and attempts to get to know her better. The Kuranta was even quite relaxed and friendly in her demeanor, though she still made sure that her own secrets were well kept. With a dominant visage of a true leader, many times, she almost made the conversation to steer in her direction. But just like the Perro, Sora also had this gut feeling that her guard was still up, and she was merely presenting a mask, not her true self.
Amiya was quick to fill in the empty seat after Nearl left the counseling room. Sora always saw her as someone timid, soft-speaking, and maybe even avoidant to social interactions - and she was glad that she'd proven wrong, at least somewhat. For a girl still in her tender age, the brunette already had a lot on her plate, being the second-in-command for the Rhodes Island staff and employees, being at the Doctor's side, and taking care of other administrative and diplomatic tasks regarding their alliance with the LGDs.
The girl looked strong and firm in her resolve, she showed this almost - frightening amount of maturity in her speech, which was admirable, sure - but also... a bit pitiful, if Sora had to give her own honest opinion. One might see her strong qualities as something incredibly positive, but she figured that if such qualities were the results of hardships and other unfortunate circumstances, then... she might just have some opinions to say about it.
One of the qualities she'd hoped herself having was being perceptive - but without sounding too suspicious or judgmental to other people. Every once in a while, Amiya would occassionally break out of that professional, and strong character - looking like how a girl her age would react. Despite the horrors she'd probably seen, there was still some hints of innocence, her own gullible sense poking through her mask. She'd get somewhat excited over small things, like interacting with new people such as Sora herself, maybe even somewhat lacking in personal confidence at times.
There was still a young girl underneath all of her duties - the young girl that Amiya always tried to suppress. Actually, the more Sora'd interacted with them, the more she could see a pattern. These Operators, it's like they didn't want to be honest with themselves. It's like they frown upon the idea of just... trying to act normally, like any other normal person in Terra would - it's like they saw that as a weakness they couldn't afford to show.
She could understand the reasons behind them - they were the company's Operators. And 'living normally' would probably be the last thing an Operator could hope to do in general. In an organization like Rhodes Island, where they'd either focus all their efforts on research and development for a potential cure to the Oripathy, or 'quelling societal issues and other byproducts left by the disease', most probably by sending their Operators to deal with them, it must've been this sole reason why they acted so incredibly... rigid.
The last two Operators were the Sarkazians, with the first one to enter between the two being the senior Medic of the company. Compared to the last three Operators she'd interacted with, Warfarin acted much more casual, like she was indeed talking to her as if she was her colleague. This may be a result of their prior interactions before the session, but at least it helped in breaking the ice between the two. The Medic-class was a woman of experience and she was not being secretive about her age and her long work with the company. She knew how to deal with people, maybe even more so than the idol herself. It also amused her at how the Sarkaz behaved - despite her senior age, she still talked like she's a young adult who'd just graduated from college.
Despite everything though, Sora simply couldn't shake the fact that there was something... off about her. Warfarin was easy to talk to, and she was liberal and carefree in her answers as well as in her knowing smirks. She didn't want to sound too assuming of the Medic, but from how strained the muscles around her lips and how somewhat tense her neck and shoulder blades were while she presented herself, there was some... indication that she indeed also had some other stories to tell. The same kind of rigidity that was shared amongst the other Operators before her.
Last one to have their session was the other Sarkaz, with the callsign of Warden. Striking appearance with his... mask and all, but it's not his physical appearance, his age, or his post that took her interest, it was his prior mental and psychological evalutations. Showing hints of concerning impairments that really warped her perception of him. From the way he presented himself and how he spoke with this steady neutrality, he reminded her of Dobermann. However, despite her initial thoughts, he at least showed some decency and respect towards her, even acted properly for the occassion. Stars, he even referred to her, a student, as 'Miss' or even 'Ma'am', on more than one occassion, and he was much older than her in comparison.
Not exactly sociable, but not the one to shy from an interaction either. Still, also like the Perro, he wasn't the type to open up or carry the conversation with him, lumping that responsibility to her. It was still too soon to judge any kind of qualities he had with him, considering it was only their first meeting but he sounded honest and straightforward with his answers - maybe even a bit too honest and blunt at times. From the surface, at least - he didn't seem to look wrong.
And only from the surface.
The same opinion she also shared with the rest of the Operators she talked with. Sora damned herself for having these kinds of negative assumptions about them, especially considering her calling in Positive Psychology. It was more of a natural way of thinking that any kind of client she had was quick to put up their defense mechanisms against new and especially prying ears. Maybe she was being a bit too insecure, but they all gave her the same hunch.
They didn't want to be truthful. Even Warfarin, who acted the most naturally out of the five showed signs of dishonesty, and she'd expected her to be the most open individual from them. If she had to conclude her meetings with the five, she'd just tell the Doctor that she didn't learn anything new from them, quite literally. They didn't stray too far from what the dossiers already told her, if anything, Sora'd argue that right now, she knew less instead of more after she talked to them.
Sora knew less of them as individuals, that is. She'd gained some insight about their duties and how they operate, sure, but those weren't the things she's looking for. She wanted to see each of them as a person, talk about their hobbies, favorite food, sports or how they'd spend their days - but instead, they'd just regurgitate all the same, simple and surface-level answers about them as Operators, not your typical average-joes. While she was certainly more than glad that they didn't see her as an idol, attributing her to something that's familiar to the general public would be among the first and expected thing the normal people do.
Maybe it's just her pre-conceptions and of course, she really couldn't generalize every single meeting with the clients to play out the same way, but she wanted even at least one of them to act... like a normal person, and the only one who seemed to achieve this was Amiya - and even then, it was clear that she's not ready to show the counselor her true colors yet. There was nothing natural in putting up layers of masks, or just trying to act too natural. It's like they could be somewhat 'honest' to the people they're speaking with, but they couldn't be honest with themselves, if that statement made any sense.
She's gone to the point where she couldn't even trust her perceptive nature. Psychologists were not only trained in the ways of interviewing someone, but also observing them. Looks and words could be deceiving after all. And since they couldn't read minds - contrary to popular belief, they really needed to master this craft when handling people. Maybe she needed to chip down their guards, even if it's bit by bit. The question was - how.
Sora sighed, flipping the thick pages of notes she'd taken during her long talks with the Operators, even having conversations was particularly draining for the likes of her. She wondere if the circumstances and their jobs as Operators prevented them from being honest, not to her, but to themselves. They didn't even look that close to each other, also treating one another with professionalism and court respect. Not as simple workmates like how she saw her friends at Penguin Logistics.
That's why she asked each one of them a question that seemed to garner a different reaction from each Operators.
"...Would you consider yourself... lonely?"
She echoed the statement to herself, exhaling another wary breath, only now reaching for her pocket to retrieve her smartphone. In this one awkward motion with unfamiliarity of the device, she unlocked the screen to reveal the notifications that'd stacked up after her period of silence. She tuned out most of the mails she'd received from Monster Siren, opting to open up a chat with a certain red-haired Sniper from the company. She had a few questions to ask the usually approachable and generally open and friendly Sankta.
"Hey, Exusiai. Sorry for bugging you at this hour. I need... some help in getting closer to some hard-to-crack types."
Warfarin rested her head on the table with a heavy sigh, the small, clear bag filled with aritificial blood its content around the plastic container when the table shifted at the new weight. Her crimson eyes were half-closed from exhaustion, and she laid still in the position for a while, only moving every few seconds to bring her lips closer to the straw she'd inserted to the blood bag to replenish herself with the equally crimson, and especially thick substance.
"Say, Warden," The Medic started, bringing her head forward to see the... new look he got on his face. "Do you think that... I look like a loner?"
The fellow Sarkaz was seated right across her position, with an ancient diving helmet several sizes too big for his head, it's almost comical at how the device would always try to slide away from its already off-centered every few seconds, making manual corrections to keep the helmet mounted necessary. The pale-haired Operator's tired look was slowly replaced with a smirk as she stared at the heavy contraption, jerry rigged to hoist a mounting point for his personal oxygen tank.
How they even managed to find the helmet, she didn't want to know. The thing practically looked ancient, with lots of rust starting to erode on its surface, while the visor looked dirty after accumulating probably decades worth of dust and dirt due to long periods of just laying waste at the storage area. For someone with close ties to the company for years, she didn't even realize that they'd have these kind of equipment at the ready.
"...?"
The male, usually-hooded Operator made a questioning noise, it looked like he wasn't paying attention to the question. The Sniper was once again back in his more casual clothing, with his plate-carrier being nowhere to be seen, taken away along with his rebreather for repairs after the last engagement with the Reunion. He had his hood pulled down to make way for the elaborate diving helmet to take the place of his rebreather as an intake for his oxygen supply, the only thing that kept him from being permanently tied to being constantly fed with oxygen from the Sick Bay's bed.
It only costed him to look even more bizarre than usual.
"...?" Warden seemed to repeat what he'd said just now, his garbled and distorted words merely echoed and tumbled around inside the diving helmet, making him quite literally inaudible and unintelligible from the outside.
Warfarin fought a snort. "You know what, forget I asked," She waved him off, seemingly understanding his question. "...Not gonna lie, that thing looks good on you. Brings out your charm and makes you look more masculine too," Teased the Medic, taking another sip of artificial blood.
The device shifted to the side, indicating that he'd tilted his head. "..." The Sniper-class's ancient helmet rumbled with noise as he spoke from within, before his hand moved to adjust the listing contraption back into place.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry," The pale-haired individiual flapped her dominant wrist around a few times, basically repeating that dismissive gesture from before. "But can you blame me, though? You're basically asking for it walking around the HQ with that thing stuck on your face," True enough, even some of the staff members inside the lounge were still shooting them strange glances for a few seconds, before walking out of sight, whispering something only within their earshot.
The helmeted Sarkaz's body shifted as he felt the stares coming from his back, his movement suggested that he's trying to look over his shoulder. He eventually gave up after a few seconds. "..." He gave a shrug to accompany whatever he said. "...?" He made another questioning sound, like asking a question.
Warfarin shrugged back at his response. "What do you mean 'How can you understand what I'm saying'?"She repeated. "Hey, I'm old, but I'm not that old. My eyes and ears are still as sharp as ever. Hell, I think that helmet of yours might even be older than me - it straight up looks like a long-lost treasure from the middle-ages," An index finger folded out from her free hand, pointing at the urgently-modified device - courtesy of Closure.
A breath echoed around inside his helmet, sounding like he's sighing. "..." He seemed to grumble about something.
"Stars, just chill out, will you?" The senior Medic's eyebrows rose at his rare display of dissatisfaction. "You're not the only one that's anxious for our next assignment - after everything that's happened, pretty much everyone's been on edge."
"..." Warden folded his arms and crossed his legs. "...?"
"That's only because I chose not to let it show," The Medic leaned back in her seat, idly sipping her refreshment with an almost bored look. "Truth is, I'm also a bit... excited. The Doctor's gone back to take command, even going as far as deploying with the Initiative. But we've been deploying non-stop these past few days. And by we: I mean you, mister," She shot him an accusatory look. "It's nothing short of a miracle that your eyes are still working right now after that hit you got."
The diving helmet attached to the other Sarkaz's head rose by a few inches, before it pulled back slightly. "..." From the movements of his neck, it's almost as if the Sniper-class Operator was shaking his head dejectedly.
"...Look, just.." Warfarin trailed off, cutting herself off with a sigh before she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't like the fact the LGDs are in charge of this whole thing either, but we really don't have a say in this. So for now, let's just... wait until your rebreather's repaired or until our next order comes in. It's not like the world's gonna end just because you don't get to see any action for like... a few days or so," Finished the pale-haired woman with a simple shrug.
The other Sarkaz's body shifted forward, like he was ready to stand up in protest, but due to his circumstances, he opted to stay seated and sank further to the cushion. "..."
"...Good boy," Smirked the Medic. "...Besides, it's not everyday we get to enjoy some time off. Operators aren't machines, you know. Hell, even machines need some down time every once in a while."
There was a light pause in his movements for a couple of seconds. "...?"
"Huh... I don't know. What can we do in times like these?" Warfarin began to ponder, placing her thumb and index fingers to cup her chin, supporting the increased weight of her head after more thought. "I've been thinking about continuing my research regarding blood therapy... but then I realized that with no hospital or institution willing to accept or publish my paper, I'm pretty much working and sitting on dead weight right now."
Warden shook his head, giving another echoing sigh from beneath the oversized helmet. "..."
The Medic's eyebrows twitched in annoyance. "Don't complain, you're the one who's asking someone from Kazdel on how we'd spend our days. Naturally, I'd still be thinking about work."
"..." He was quick to jab a finger back to her, implying that she'd probably said the wrong thing just now herself.
"What do you mean by 'but you're the one who suggested it'?" Warfarin narrowed one of her crimson eyes at the helmeted male. "Alright then, because you're definitely sooo much more qualified about this, what would you suggest? And no 'talking about the weather' or 'what a nice day we're having' shtick."
Her fellow Sarkaz raised the both of his arms to his chest level, both palms wide open. "..." His posture relaxed and the Operator folded his arms again. "...?"
Whatever he said, actually managed to get the Medic's attention. "...You want me to what? 'Write a blog'?" She repeated his unintelligible words, and she could see the diving helmet bobbing up and down. "What's a 'blog'? And what should I even do or write in those things?"
An elongated noise echoed inside Warden's helmet, the sound akin to a hum. The male Operator seemed to assume a thoughtful pose, with his fingers now drumming on his hoodie's fabric. "..." The sounds that followed were longer, like he was speaking in full sentences. "...?" His fingers stopped tapping on his body and he brought his body forward, the ancient helmet leaning with him, before being corrected into its appropriate position.
"Of course I know what the internet is, you asshole. But nevermind that," Warfarin rolled her crimson eyes, not really meaning anything with that comeback despite the irritated tone. In fact, she suddenly looked more interested than anything after his long string of inaudible explanation. "So you're basically saying... I should post my research materials on an open domain, for everyone to see?" She looked both confused and understanding at once, her eyebrows raised and her expression looking for some kind of clarification from the other Sarkaz.
To which the other Operator gave a shrug. "..." His dominant hand detached from its molded position and began waving around in an explanatory manner.
"No, no. I don't care about royalties at all, money isn't an issue here..." The senior Medic-class produced her own hum, her head once again leaning to her waiting fingers. "Using anonimity as a way to teach the world, huh?" Muttered the pale-skinned, pale-haired woman just above her breath. "...Since hospitals and campuses can't accept my papers because I don't have a Medical license - and because they're racist as hell against Vampires... I can just spread the information along in my very own platform...?"
"...?" Warden lobbed a question to her way, noting her rather shaky disposition towards the matter. "..." He decided to offer his own unheard opinion.
"True," She nodded after receiving his response. "People will indeed question the validity of this kind of research considering it's not posted in an official journal or something, so it's technically unproven but..." Warfarin trailed off, letting the silence to take over for a couple of seconds. "...But... but, holy scheisse, that's actually a pretty damn genius idea," A small grin made its way to grace her lips, which grew wider that she unconsciously brandished her fangs at the other Sarkaz. "Sign me up, how do I write one of these 'blogs'?"
The other Operator across her position reeled back and went back to rest his back against the chair. Looking rather surprised at the genuinely excited reaction of the white-haired Medic "...?" He lifted his index finger at her, somewhat both amused and confused.
"Well... duh, of course I'm excited for this. You have no idea how important some of my papers are," After giving a shake of her head, she gave a nod to follow up - sounding a bit prideful at herself. "Most of them are just about blood and plasma research and their application to Oripathy therapies and even other combat uses. But you've seen their results first hand, they can literally save lives. So yeah, you can bet your ass that I'm excited to write that blog. The world needs to know about this."
Warden's helmet swerved left and right, watching the Medic as she's acting several generations younger than her actual age, while her speech tempo seemed to have sped up as she droned on about her studies. "..."
"Yeah, I have my phone with me," Warfarin produced her own, rarely-seen smartphone to view, following the slow and awkward instructions from the other. "...Open the browser and search for a blog spot?" Her fingers traced the surface of the touchscreen, scanning for the appropriate application. "Okay, I got the browser - how to I search for a blog spot?"
He actually paused for a moment, becoming unsure on how to guide her to the next steps for his own unfamiliarity with the sites himself.
Seeing that his silence lingered for too long, the pale-haired Operator merely shook her head and stood up from her chair, almost prompting some king of movement in return from the helmeted man. She raised a hand to stop him, and easily hoisted her own chair and dragged it across the table, setting it beside the Sniper-class and situated herself closer to the fellow Sarkazian. From there, she merely showed the active screen of her phone to him.
"Just walk me through this, what's next?" Requested the Medic, almost sounding a bit impatient due to her barely contained, almost-child-like excitement, or like a mad scientist - obsessed with their own inventions. "I've got the browser open, how do I access the blog spot - sites - whatever?"
The Sniper-class Sarkazian reeled his head back and leaned further to the seat at the still encroaching face of the crimson-eyed woman, feeling that his personal space'd been invaded. But he obliged anyway, opening his open palm to request the gadget to be handed to him, to which she understood the gesture and placed the device on his hand. Another neutral, thoughtful hum reverberated inside his helmet as the Operator's fingers now glided over the surface of the screen.
A few seconds later, and the hopefully desired website was open.
"Whoa... so even just typing 'blog websites' on that search bar thingy can already lead you to this place?" Questioned Warfarin after she received her phone back, sounding genuinely amazed at the seemingly basic function of her browser - while her companion merely stared at her through his expressionless and dirty visor of his helmet. "...And what are you looking at, chum?" She bit again after noticing the pair of eyes that continued to stick on her, as if in exasperation.
At that, Warden merely raised his palms before folding them again. "..." He retreated back to his leaning position, letting the Medic to handle the rest.
"Hey come on, I'm just kidding, I still need your help," Warfarin offered an almost panicked, apologetic smile at the other Operator as she shoved her phone back to him. "We're so close!"
His helmet rumbled with a sigh as he accepted the device back to his hands. "..." The Sniper-class began working their way around the site, signing up for a new account. "...?"
"A username...? You mean like a nickname for that website?" Asked the Medic, receiving a slow and unsure nod from him. "...Well, I'd thought about using my own callsign right now, but after a decade of being called 'Warfarin', the name itself doesn't really invoke the imagination anymore..." She trailed off with a hum. "Obviously I don't want to use my real name or anything that'd suggest that I'm a Sarkazian, much less being a Vampire... that'd scare away the readers, so..."
The helmeted Sarkaz patiently waited for her upcoming responses, opting to once again lean back to his chair to let the pale-haired woman drown in her own thoughts.
"...Gonna need me some inspiration..." She mumbled aloud, setting her gaze to the other Sarkaz, now situated beside her intently. "Help me out here, Warden. You got any ideas? Why'd you pick 'Warden' as your callsign anyway?"
"..." The man in question merely gave an easy shrug.
Warfarin felt her eyebrows twitched. "...There is no way in hell I'm using 'Humuhumunukunukuapua'a' as my username. Too much of a mouthful," Her neutral look turned into a deep frown. "...And to think you almost went through with that name too... Operator Humuhumunukunukuapua'a... not gonna lie, it rolls off the tongue pretty easily, maybe even easier than 'Warfarin', but being 'funny' or 'amusing' really isn't something you should take into consideration when choosing your callsign."
His helmet shook a few times. "..." With whatever he said, he once again decided to leave the Medic to think of the suitable pen name for her online blogs.
"I GOT IT!" Warfarin yelled her hands pumped into fists and she threw them up into the air as if she's celebrating a great success, her crimson eyes immediately darted to the other Sarkaz, who sat in still silence, back leaned into the cushion of their chair and head slightly tucked downwards, with folded arms had fell down and limply hung to his side, while his feet didn't display any kind of movement that required muscle energy. "...Warden?"
The Medic then began looking around the premises, finding the once packed lounge to be vacated and devoid of life, with only one of the cleaning crews idly mopping the floor and dusting off the furnitures - all while humming idly to himself, enjoying the music provided through the pair of earphones stuck to his ears. She watched as the staff member did a pirouette on the squeaky clean floor, perfectly unaware and uncaring of his surroundings.
Her eyebrows rose in amusement, but decided to let the lone employee be. Her attention then shifted to the unmoving and unresponsive Sniper still sitting in a slouched posture. Her mind wondered if his oxygen supply ran out, but then again, in the HQ he could've easily replaced the tank whenever. Instead, she moved herself closer to the downcast helmet of the Sniper-class, the respiration-assisting device already listing several inches away from his head thanks to his awkward position.
After a few more seconds, she concluded that her fellow Sarkaz had dozed off. The Medic gave a sigh as she went back onto her seat, which ironically - instead of her earlier exclaim, seemed to disrupt his slumber.
The helmeted individual jerked his face upwards, the diving helmet swaying as his head rose. He didn't look particularly surprised nor disturbed at her movements. "...?"
"...Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," The Medic's face contorted into an almost guilty look. "But I finally got a username," With renewed vigor, she showed the screen to the other, recently awake Sarkaz. "'Blood'. How's that. Not bad, eh?" She had this prideful grin that smeared her face and stretched from ear to ear.
Hearing her choice, Warden merely let his stare linger at her for far too long. "...?" He lifted the both of his gloved hands before placing them on the surface of his helmet, rubbing the ancient, rusty surface of the headwear while he shook her head a few times, a gesture which seemed to kill off the excitement of the pale-skinned woman. "..." Whatever he said, it was accompanied by a long and droned out groan that lasted for several seconds. "..." Three fingers curled outwards from his dominant hand and he moved it closer to her face for emphasis.
"Three hours isn't that long! Picking a name is serious business, you know!" She protested back, sounding irritated herself at his strange, unintelligible noises. "Besides, Blood isn't a bad pen name by any means, I think it's both grand, menacing, and also mysterious... a feast for the imagination!" She spread her arms widely to her sides, with Warden trying to determine if she was being unironic with her statement and actions just now. "...Oi, come on, say something."
The Sniper shook his head slowly, carefully, and almost... painfully, even. "..."
An off-handed spit sounded off inside Warfarin's mouth. "Yeah, you go to hell," Her crimson eyes narrowed to a glare, but they quickly relaxed herself, tone half-joking, and half-genuinely angry. "But with this, the site say that I'm ready to write...?" She ended her words with a rather questioning tone for some reason. "So I can just... start posting the results of my research from now on?"
He gave a shrug at her question. "..." The gesture seemed to imply that he too was unfamiliar with exploring those kinds of websites or activities in general.
"...Gut, then," Warfarin had a small, knowing smirk. "Yeah you know what, I've kept you here for long enough. I'll just go back to the infirmary to fetch my papers and start writing. Thanks for the help," She hopped off her own chair. "You know that you really didn't have to say here right while I chose my username or whatever, right?" The Medic shot him a look over her shoulder, her crimson eyes once again meeting the dirty visor of the helmet.
"...Well, you did ask me on whether you looked like a loner back then, Miss Warfarin... so I just thought that I should keep you company for the time being, that's all."
Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum
Chapter XVII: Sola Animi
A.N.
I really hate doing this, but here's another Author's Notes that I updated after the chapter went live because I feel like I need to mention a potential shift in my updates.
With my country easing the COVID lockdown restrictions - even though we're still way in the reds, it won't be long before I have to get back to my usual routines. Currently, I'm focused in the last leg of my research, yes, an actual research that'll hopefully end up in somewhere in a scientific journal sometime soon after a peer review. I'm even still shocked that a guy like me gets to do actual research. I've also started up a FictionPress account and also currently in the process of writing other original fiction projects over there. So, I have to start shifting my own work-life and other hobbies's balance from here on out, and updates may come and go with this story as it goes on.
That's pretty much it. I'm surprised anyone's still reading this story as it is to be honest. You really don't have to leave a review or a follow/favorite - I'm not writing for the sake of clout, and it's goddamn embarassing to see this work pop up in other people's accounts lmao. I'm doing this to merely to stave off my boredom during quarantine and hopefully slowly improve my understanding of the English language, bit by bit. Still, thanks for sticking around. Take care, people.