He shrugged, and stirred the lotion in its container. "Perhaps," he said. "But I've had plenty of medicines that she could have used, and this is the first time she's ever used one." In the hallway, Poppy leaned against the wall, a small smile at the corner of her mouth. She spoke softly, with a gentle cock of her head and she seemed to be choosing her words carefully.
He laughed, low and solid. "I don't really imagine anyone has a terribly big influence over her. But I know for a fact that she has quite a strong fear of experimental medicine, and yet, here we are." He shrugged and turned back to his golden vial, scribbling out some notes in sharp, messy handwriting.
"It will eventually become a cure for biting your tongue," he said matter-of-factly. "Start chewing one after the incident, and the swelling and the pain should go down." Poppy returned quickly with an excited grin on her face. "It's gone!" she said, pointing at her arm. "No rash or anything!"
She paused, and then nudged him gently. "I won't make you do it if you don't want to," she said. "But it would probably make it hurt less."
Poppy and Phos glanced at each other. "I'm trusting you, Phos," Poppy said, raising a finger in warning. He took a deep breath and put some of the lotion on his finger. "It may be a little cold," he said, before smoothing it onto Francis' cheek. The lotion was cold, and it felt like it was tightening on his skin. Phos carefully screwed on the top of the ointment, and smiled pleasantly at Francis. "Let me know if anything goes wrong," he said. "I'd love to record any additional information."
"Be nice," Poppy said, raising an eyebrow. Phos laughed and waved it off. "Don't worry Poppy. I'm about 84% sure that he should be fine." He checked his watch and started. "Oh goodness, I do apologize. Lunch seems to have started ten minutes ago. You should hurry if you wish to get seats."
"Thanks for the lotion, Phos," Poppy said, giving him a small wave as they left. "You're a little grumpy," she said as they walked towards the dining hall. "Are you really that worried about the rash thing?"
"Yes. Were going on a mission to convince people to join our side. How are they supposed to take me seriously if I have a rash on my face?"
"You could pretend you got it in battle," Poppy said, enjoying herself. "I mean, when people have scars, they're seen as pretty tough. Perhaps rashes have the same effect?"
"No. I would rather have the bruise. Rashes are gross," he crossed his arm. "Did someone call you on your watch earlier?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. It was my dad. He'd been trying to contact me since the bombings." She glanced down at her arm as they entered the dining hall, adjusting the watch on her wrist.
She sat across from him. "Your bruise seems to be fading," she said, trying to be helpful. "Does it still hurt?"
She sat across from him. "Your bruise seems to be fading," she said, trying to be helpful. "Does it still hurt?"
She sat across from him. "Your bruise seems to be fading," she said, trying to be helpful. "Does it still hurt?"
"Not really. It didn't really hurt unless you touched it," he said simply, not giving much room for conversation. Placing his head in his hands, he sighed.
