[ It's a dreary afternoon, the skies outside the windows gray and the glass painted with thin cobwebs of rainwater. The halls of the Citadel are fairly quiet though -- which must make it all the more jarring when Lottie, no doubt just minding her own business, is alerted to the very heavy thump of a body being carelessly dropped to the floor. A quick peek around the corner is all it'll take for her to spot a certain, lanky redhead straightening up from where he's deposited a sodden, crumpled form on the carpeted floor and sauntering off casually, like he was just dropping off some drycleaning at the laundromat. Completing a totally normal errand, nothing more!
Unfortunately(?) for Lottie, she might have to venture a little closer to recognize that body on the floor for who it is.
Near thirty minutes left outside in the drizzling rain have left Gen damp and bedraggled, and that's on top of the shitty condition he was already in. Face pale, far-too-long hair left tangled over his face and shocked through with a pair of white streaks, eyes lined with dark shadows, left sleeve conspicuously empty below the shoulder. He really looks like he's been put through the wringer, and is thus looking peak not-cute at the moment. And while the weather outside is warm enough that a little time spent out in the rain isn't going to kill him ... when Lottie steps closer, Gen, still mostly unconscious, stifles a hoarse groan and sneezes right onto Lottie's shoes. Shivering slightly in his damp clothes as he reflexively tries to curl up away from the cold.
Maybe that's, like, rude enough that Lottie is tempted to just walk away?
Or maybe she remembers just enough of Gen (deep in the throes of his hallucinations) helping her in Venera so many weeks back that she decides to stick around and lend a hand. And it's not like she has to do all the work herself -- there's the faint sounds of movement coming from within Gen's room, right behind where Gen's been deposited on the floor. ]
[ I hate him, Lottie thinks bitterly to herself after seeing Gen get left in front of his door like a soggy wet newspaper. Of course, she doesn't do anything straight away, in fact she waits a few moments until she's sure of the fact Childe is gone and it's just the sounds of Gen's barely there breath intermingled with her own. She approaches hesitantly, wondering if she's stumbled onto some kind of crime scene (he's breathing but, who knows! Maybe he's dying or something?!) when she comes close enough to really see the damage.
But then he sneezes on her slippers, and Lottie frowns in exhaustion.
Nope! Not dying. Still alive and still just as gross as she remembers.
She's in her own natural state of gross โ tissues stuffed up her nostril to make sure no snot drips as she exists, eye glasses she's had made to help with her vision. Her face is pale and splotchy, red around the eyes and especially around her nose. There's a labored breath as she bends down, eyes glancing up to his door as she tries to decide what to do first. It's not like she's really locked out of his room, but he might be sick being this drenched.. First thing's first, she gently moves the hair covering his face (the white is new? When did he do that?), and places her palm flat on his forehead โ does he have a fever?
And then, with the other hand, she gives a little pat pat to Gen's cheek โ is he alive enough to spill the tea?? ]
[ Good news for Lottie: no fever! In fact, Gen's skin is a little cool to touch from being left out in the rain without cover.
Less-good news for Lottie: Gen doesn't wake easily.
That little pat-pat to the cheek earns no reaction at first save the slightest furrow of the brow and a hoarse exhale. It takes another two, three (perhaps slightly firmer) jostles before his eyes finally flutter open as he gives a bleary groan. -- and then Gen immediately squeezes them shut once more, groaning louder as he tries to avert his gaze from the lighting in the hallway. ]
-- the fuck ...
[ Unclear whether that sentence was supposed to start with 'where' or 'what' or 'how,' especially with how hoarse Gen's voice emerges. At least he seems well enough to slap his hand to his face, wearily pressing his knuckles into the arch of his eyesockets to try and quell the tremendous headache rattling around in his skull. -- where the hell even is this. The last thing he remembers is being out on the training fields, sparring with Childe. And he'd knocked the guy down. And then ... ? ]
... I think he fucking tazed me? [ At least, it'd track with how much every muscle in his body aches. Not that he has any experience with getting tazed, but it definitely feels like his brain is still on the fritz, his muscles sore from tensing and releasing so abruptly. And with that bleary guess made, Gen pulls his hand away from his face just enough to finally give Lottie a confused glance. Taking in the state of her for a moment before he rasps, ] Did he do something to you, too?
[ Why else would she be looking like such a mess? ]
[ She's going to tell him later whenever she's sure he isn't about to scream or unveil some secret traumatic injuries. For now, she pulls her hands away from his face, completely ignoring the way he stares at her and how the way she's dressed is probably not what he's used to (this is generous). She shimmies herself out of her jacket, bundling it up and gently placing it beneath his head. There's a moment where she takes a stray sleeve and debates on putting it on top of his eyes - and it's after a long stare down at poor Gen that she lets it quietly flop on top of those eyes, successfully shielding him from the candles of the hallway.
And, also, from Lottie straightening out her equally worn out pajama shirt and how she digs into her pockets for his key. ]
Why did he even taze you? [ There's the shuffle of her moving to stand, and then the sound of her shoving the key inside the lock. ] ..Why does he even know where you live??
Actually, Lottie's right. It's not important right now, he'll deal with it later.
His head's still killing him, a persistent, sharp pain throbbing somewhere right behind his eyeballs, and it's mostly why he ends up quietly letting Lottie cushion his head with her jacket instead of griping that he isn't an invalid. That jacket sleeve at his eyes, too, helps tremendously -- as she's turning away Lottie might hear him breathe a hoarse sigh of relief.
Totally oblivious to the fact that she might have access to his room. ]
How would I know ... [ A muffled groan as he makes the mistake of trying to shift positions and is punished for it with incredible muscle aches. ] He suddenly picked a fight with me when I was training -- wanted a sparring match. And I landed a good hit when he pulled that shit. ... cheap bastard.
[ Clearly, Gen's more annoyed by the indignity of getting tazed by a felled opponent than by the fact he's been tazed at all.
On her end, Lottie might be relieved to feel the key enter the lock and start to turn without issue. But the moment the lock clicks open, the door suddenly swings inward without warning, and Lottie might find herself face to face with a young man dressed in the uniform that most of the Citadel's servants wear. Gen's retainer, his face lit up with anticipation and worry as he blurts out, "Sir Minegishi! I was wondering wh --"
Only then blinking wide-eyed at the sight of Lottie.
[ Why the heck would he want to fight Gen? Sure, he's a punky kid but.. It's not something to beat him over. Especially if they're all on the same side, what does it matter?!
Lottie frowns deeply, pondering this over when his retainer swings the door open and almost pulls her with it. She nearly falls over and into the servant, which scares the shit out of her because personal contact much? She takes a giant step back, accidentally putting some of her weight onto Gen's chest in the process before remembering he's there and adjusting her stance to make sure he's not trampled.
She stares at him, throws a hand on her chest to calm her heart and her breathing. And then when she gets past her surprise, she hurriedly demands: ]
Help me lug him in!
[ Fuck. She should've put some real shoes on before inserting herself into the situation -- or, maybe lifted some weights. How heavy can he be? She's going to find out! After some aggressive gesturing, she ends up by his legs and fully expects his retainer to be at his arms. She gets into a deep squat, groaning because she cracks a knee or two.
Her hands awkwardly splay on top of his leg, wondering where the hell to grab him. His feet? Jesus. She ends up holding onto ankles, her grip a little unsure. ]
Be careful with his head, he got into a fight with somebody. [ And softer: ] Okay, so, I'm gonna grab your legs and.. Your intern is going to get your arms?
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wildcard!
Unfortunately(?) for Lottie, she might have to venture a little closer to recognize that body on the floor for who it is.
Near thirty minutes left outside in the drizzling rain have left Gen damp and bedraggled, and that's on top of the shitty condition he was already in. Face pale, far-too-long hair left tangled over his face and shocked through with a pair of white streaks, eyes lined with dark shadows, left sleeve conspicuously empty below the shoulder. He really looks like he's been put through the wringer, and is thus looking peak not-cute at the moment. And while the weather outside is warm enough that a little time spent out in the rain isn't going to kill him ... when Lottie steps closer, Gen, still mostly unconscious, stifles a hoarse groan and sneezes right onto Lottie's shoes. Shivering slightly in his damp clothes as he reflexively tries to curl up away from the cold.
Maybe that's, like, rude enough that Lottie is tempted to just walk away?
Or maybe she remembers just enough of Gen (deep in the throes of his hallucinations) helping her in Venera so many weeks back that she decides to stick around and lend a hand. And it's not like she has to do all the work herself -- there's the faint sounds of movement coming from within Gen's room, right behind where Gen's been deposited on the floor. ]
no subject
Seriously, the fucking worst!
[ I hate him, Lottie thinks bitterly to herself after seeing Gen get left in front of his door like a soggy wet newspaper. Of course, she doesn't do anything straight away, in fact she waits a few moments until she's sure of the fact Childe is gone and it's just the sounds of Gen's barely there breath intermingled with her own. She approaches hesitantly, wondering if she's stumbled onto some kind of crime scene (he's breathing but, who knows! Maybe he's dying or something?!) when she comes close enough to really see the damage.
But then he sneezes on her slippers, and Lottie frowns in exhaustion.
Nope! Not dying. Still alive and still just as gross as she remembers.
She's in her own natural state of gross โ tissues stuffed up her nostril to make sure no snot drips as she exists, eye glasses she's had made to help with her vision. Her face is pale and splotchy, red around the eyes and especially around her nose. There's a labored breath as she bends down, eyes glancing up to his door as she tries to decide what to do first. It's not like she's really locked out of his room, but he might be sick being this drenched.. First thing's first, she gently moves the hair covering his face (the white is new? When did he do that?), and places her palm flat on his forehead โ does he have a fever?
And then, with the other hand, she gives a little pat pat to Gen's cheek โ is he alive enough to spill the tea?? ]
Hey! C'mon.. Did that guy beat you up?
no subject
Less-good news for Lottie: Gen doesn't wake easily.
That little pat-pat to the cheek earns no reaction at first save the slightest furrow of the brow and a hoarse exhale. It takes another two, three (perhaps slightly firmer) jostles before his eyes finally flutter open as he gives a bleary groan. -- and then Gen immediately squeezes them shut once more, groaning louder as he tries to avert his gaze from the lighting in the hallway. ]
-- the fuck ...
[ Unclear whether that sentence was supposed to start with 'where' or 'what' or 'how,' especially with how hoarse Gen's voice emerges. At least he seems well enough to slap his hand to his face, wearily pressing his knuckles into the arch of his eyesockets to try and quell the tremendous headache rattling around in his skull. -- where the hell even is this. The last thing he remembers is being out on the training fields, sparring with Childe. And he'd knocked the guy down. And then ... ? ]
... I think he fucking tazed me? [ At least, it'd track with how much every muscle in his body aches. Not that he has any experience with getting tazed, but it definitely feels like his brain is still on the fritz, his muscles sore from tensing and releasing so abruptly. And with that bleary guess made, Gen pulls his hand away from his face just enough to finally give Lottie a confused glance. Taking in the state of her for a moment before he rasps, ] Did he do something to you, too?
[ Why else would she be looking like such a mess? ]
no subject
Yes!
[ And then reluctantly: ]
No.. Ugh, it's not important.
[ She's going to tell him later whenever she's sure he isn't about to scream or unveil some secret traumatic injuries. For now, she pulls her hands away from his face, completely ignoring the way he stares at her and how the way she's dressed is probably not what he's used to (this is generous). She shimmies herself out of her jacket, bundling it up and gently placing it beneath his head. There's a moment where she takes a stray sleeve and debates on putting it on top of his eyes - and it's after a long stare down at poor Gen that she lets it quietly flop on top of those eyes, successfully shielding him from the candles of the hallway.
And, also, from Lottie straightening out her equally worn out pajama shirt and how she digs into her pockets for his key. ]
Why did he even taze you? [ There's the shuffle of her moving to stand, and then the sound of her shoving the key inside the lock. ] ..Why does he even know where you live??
no subject
Actually, Lottie's right. It's not important right now, he'll deal with it later.
His head's still killing him, a persistent, sharp pain throbbing somewhere right behind his eyeballs, and it's mostly why he ends up quietly letting Lottie cushion his head with her jacket instead of griping that he isn't an invalid. That jacket sleeve at his eyes, too, helps tremendously -- as she's turning away Lottie might hear him breathe a hoarse sigh of relief.
Totally oblivious to the fact that she might have access to his room. ]
How would I know ... [ A muffled groan as he makes the mistake of trying to shift positions and is punished for it with incredible muscle aches. ] He suddenly picked a fight with me when I was training -- wanted a sparring match. And I landed a good hit when he pulled that shit. ... cheap bastard.
[ Clearly, Gen's more annoyed by the indignity of getting tazed by a felled opponent than by the fact he's been tazed at all.
On her end, Lottie might be relieved to feel the key enter the lock and start to turn without issue. But the moment the lock clicks open, the door suddenly swings inward without warning, and Lottie might find herself face to face with a young man dressed in the uniform that most of the Citadel's servants wear. Gen's retainer, his face lit up with anticipation and worry as he blurts out, "Sir Minegishi! I was wondering wh --"
Only then blinking wide-eyed at the sight of Lottie.
"... excuse me, who ... ?" ]
no subject
Lottie frowns deeply, pondering this over when his retainer swings the door open and almost pulls her with it. She nearly falls over and into the servant, which scares the shit out of her because personal contact much? She takes a giant step back, accidentally putting some of her weight onto Gen's chest in the process before remembering he's there and adjusting her stance to make sure he's not trampled.
She stares at him, throws a hand on her chest to calm her heart and her breathing. And then when she gets past her surprise, she hurriedly demands: ]
Help me lug him in!
[ Fuck. She should've put some real shoes on before inserting herself into the situation -- or, maybe lifted some weights. How heavy can he be? She's going to find out! After some aggressive gesturing, she ends up by his legs and fully expects his retainer to be at his arms. She gets into a deep squat, groaning because she cracks a knee or two.
Her hands awkwardly splay on top of his leg, wondering where the hell to grab him. His feet? Jesus. She ends up holding onto ankles, her grip a little unsure. ]
Be careful with his head, he got into a fight with somebody. [ And softer: ] Okay, so, I'm gonna grab your legs and.. Your intern is going to get your arms?