Phos frowned and glanced up at him. "Well," he said, sitting up. "They're strange. When I first met Poppy, they were really bad. You know, with everything that happened with her mom, it was bound to leave some kind of mark."
(Get ready for some backstory!) Phos paused for a moment, a frown crossing his face. "Well," he began, scratching the back of his neck. "Poppy's mom had early onset Parkinson's. It was a very rapid case. It first came right after she had Poppy's younger brother, if I remember correctly, and by the time he was a year and a half old, she couldn't leave her bed." Phos dusted his hands of invisible dirt, his expression hard to read. "But, around the time Poppy was 10 or 11, there was this experimental medicine that her mother tried. It allowed her to move again, for the most part. It removed all of the problems. It was a miracle. She could play with her children, be a mother again, you know. Occasionally, if she got too stressed, she wouldn't be able to move, but for the most part, it seemed like she was cured. The Parkinson's was practically forgotten." Phos sat down and folded his hands somberly. "One night, though, I guess there was a fire. A really bad one started by some faulty wiring. Their house was pretty old, you know, so there was a lot of things that needed work. Poppy's father had stayed late at the lab, and it was just the mom and the children. All the children managed to get out. Her mother should have been able to get out - her room had a window out to the roof - but as I said, her Parkinson's acted up during times of stress, so she was unable to leave her bed. They didn't make the connection until it was too late."
(That's so sad!) Francis was silent for a long while, and he crossed his arms in thought. "That's terrible. I can see why she has those dreams, though. I just wish I had known sooner."
"She doesn't like to talk about it much," Phos admitted. "She told me because we found that all of her dreams had fire in them, and I pestered her about it until she finally broke." He sighed and shook his head. "She was good for a while. The dreams had stopped coming. I don't know why they're resurfacing again. Perhaps it's-" He cut himself off as Poppy rejoined them, holding a large container of a blue liquid. She frowned at Phos with one eyebrow raised. "Are you sure this is safe?" she asked, hoisting the container onto the desk. Phos shrugged. "They're for our enemies," he said comically. "Who cares if they're safe?"
Francis wanted to hear what he had to say, but kept his silence about it. "He's got a point there. The only thing we should worry about is if it's too diluted."
She glowered at him before turning back to Phos. "Please don't kill anyone," she said. "I'll try my best," Phos said, raising his hands in surrender. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of strife between you two."
"Disagreements don't last forever," he pointed out, "but I also don't want to argue with her. She'll result to calling me names."
Poppy raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth slightly as if offended. "Francis, I would never be so cruel! I love you." She paused for a moment and then raised a finger. her voice deadly quiet. "But, if you fight me on this, I will be forced to call you a 'goofus' for all eternity."
"I guess I can't fight then, since you aren't giving me much of a choice." He frowned, turning to Phos. "Is this what you had to deal with, too?"
"Oh, good. Name calling all to myself," he said sarcastically, but grinned. "I appreciate it, Poppy."
She pecked his cheek quickly, laughing slightly. "Only for you," she said cheekily. Phos had begun dipping small needles into the container. "I should have these ready by tomorrow," he said. "They shouldn't take too long."
"Alright. That should work fine. Thanks again, Phos," he said, taking Poppy's hand. He was still curious about what he was going to say, but didn't mention anything. Perhaps he would ask later.
"Hm, will do," he said, walking towards the exit, his gait smooth and even. (The tables turned! Francis did the digging this time!)
(Phos is just a big ol' gossip.) Poppy walked alongside him, shaking her head. "You know that chemical he was using? It's originally for farm animals."
"Farm animals? Well, I see no difference between farm animals and humans if they're holding us captive," he said, his expression unreadable.
