...well okay then, that's...okay, sure. The good doctor hasn't touched a possession case since...since...too long, let's just go with 'too long'. Point is, that's not something they're here to deal with right now. So Faust reaches into his coat, produces the previously mentioned roll of bandages...and makes all of one steps forward towards Epsilon, cup brandished in one hand and bandages in the other. Time to crack down and...get to...work...?
"...right then, I'll just...uh..."
And it's about here that Faust really, REALLY stops to take a look at how this entire situation as a whole has unfolded thus far: A half-troll half-human marred with prominent strangulation wounds shuffling around awkwardly, trying to pretend he hasn't already proven to anyone with a functioning nervous system that he's trying and failing not to experience strong emotions for his 'friend'. A half-nymph half-robot with prehensile vines extending out from their body, one of which with a small chunk thoroughly barbecued and freshly-dripping with weird tree juice, apologising for getting injured to begin with and offering to have their oils harvested for use in a medical institution. And a nine-foot-something actually-fully-human doctor frozen mid-motion with a roll of bandages in one hand and an empty cup in the other, fully prepared to harvest the half-nymph half-robot's oils - of which the doctor is completely responsible for the exposure of, by the way - before wrapping it up in a wholly doomed attempt at preventing infection or whatever it is Epsilon can even catch that's bad for them.
1 / 2
"...right then, I'll just...uh..."
And it's about here that Faust really, REALLY stops to take a look at how this entire situation as a whole has unfolded thus far:
A half-troll half-human marred with prominent strangulation wounds shuffling around awkwardly, trying to pretend he hasn't already proven to anyone with a functioning nervous system that he's trying and failing not to experience strong emotions for his 'friend'.
A half-nymph half-robot with prehensile vines extending out from their body, one of which with a small chunk thoroughly barbecued and freshly-dripping with weird tree juice, apologising for getting injured to begin with and offering to have their oils harvested for use in a medical institution.
And a nine-foot-something actually-fully-human doctor frozen mid-motion with a roll of bandages in one hand and an empty cup in the other, fully prepared to harvest the half-nymph half-robot's oils - of which the doctor is completely responsible for the exposure of, by the way - before wrapping it up in a wholly doomed attempt at preventing infection or whatever it is Epsilon can even catch that's bad for them.
............................................................