" eh. well. " a shrug, " do you feel any different ? rejuvenated, perhaps ? "
as they say that, chemist discards of the used syringe. then plucks up their clipboard to the left of them.
once the fluid was all gone, they pulled away. pausing for a moment, " ah. it may not work, because you aren't necessarily wounded. "
words die on their lips, when they see the incision begin to close up by itself. like it was never there. a few blinks. ⤵️
" mm... " even their voice sounded different. sure they had the mask they wore in battle—but that was different. they sounded congested.
" i'd like that. just uhm. might wanna be careful. dunno if my room's considered contaminated. " a weak laugh, then coughing.
wait—–hold on, the one * i injected myself with is the one i use to heal the others. but... then again, it is used primarily for battle, it's made with caffeine... ( going off and mumbling )
a hand slams down on the phone, then yanking the phone to their ear. flipping some tousled hair away, " hello ? " mused from them. followed by a few sickly coughs, and sniffles.
" yeah but. " letting out a shaky exhale, the red fluids being injected into the vein. they silently hoped it would work.
and didn't just heal * external wounds. " 'm already... doing it. " sort of drooling from the way they bit on the band.
" aaagh. 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤. " having been drowned by a handful of pyro–sharks the other day in teufort, had chemist coming down with a cold.
using their canines to keep the wrap at their arm tight—free hand holds a syringe with their * own medicine. piercing, then injecting.
( their breathing halts. their attention snaps up to the other, eyes nearly blown wide. lips part to say something, but nothing comes out.
but again... they don't pull away. refusing to, actually. ) cou—- 𝐜ould i ? wwould you 𝓵et me, d–doc ?