Broken Bones Can't Break My Heart [Liltotto/Alastair]

"Have a good long rest, and a speedy recovery to you."

Liltotto would give a simple sweeping salute as she departed from the injured soldier's hospital room. She had decided to take the day to personally visit the injured of the previous operation, especially since she herself would likely be departing on her own soon. This wasn't purely some act of charity on her part to visit and converse with the injured - she wanted to give herself a good, hard, twisted reminder of the cost of these; of the lives that could be lost, the people injured or crippled, the effects it had on them as a person.

She already had these things in mind, but seeing it for herself felt necessary, especially after that conversation with Mazda... Though she did not desire close bonds, she couldn't stomach the idea of distancing herself... Like that.

Her thoughts abandoned and chewing on snacks, she would enter the room of one she was familiar with - Coordinator Alastair Eisfluch. Apart from Giselle's mentionings, she heard good things about the young man in her short time apart of this Vandenreich.

Once granted entry, she would peacefully walk into his room, that neutral expression she always held present on her face as her short statue stood at the doorway, looking in. Perhaps her eyes dulled a bit, seeing his condition, before stepping in proper,

"Liltotto Lamperd." She'd raise a hand in passive greeting, "Unfortunate that this is the circumstance we meet under, Mr. Eisfluch, but good to meet you nonetheless."

She'd approach his bedside, reaching a hand into her bag before pulling out a rather cartoony looking 'Get Well Soon!' card with an animal character.

"Oh look, a panda." She'd speak in a faux light tone, setting it by his bedside, "So, how are you feeling?"

The weeks since returning from Anaconda had not been kind to Alastair, swinging in and out of consciousness between bouts of drug-induced sleep and drug-induced therapy. The Coordinator had barely moved of his own volition for a week, writhing in his bed when the pain became unbearable perhaps the sole exception. The doctors had worried that they might need to amputate his arm, given how badly deformed it was when they recovered him, but there was no expense spared in his treatment and the limb was spared from such a grim fate.

By the time Liltotto came to visit, he was in his most presentable state in days - which was to say that he was barely propped upright in his bed with his left arm raised in a cast and sling that hung about his neck like an unwelcome guest. He was awake, but his eyes were closed as if he were thinking about something mightily important. The sound of her voice seemed to stir him from this solitude, an eyebrow perking up inquisitively before a deep orange gaze descended upon the child. Though that child was in uniform, and thus he began to put the pieces together.

His mouth hung open for a moment before he spoke, a low groan escaping before his lips turned into the slightest of smiles.

"Thank you, Miss Lamperd."

The sling shifted as Alastair turned to try to face her, causing a jolt of pain to shoot up the man's spine as he contorted his face and grimaced. This was hardly the state that a soldier should see their superior officer, what kind of example was this setting for the other men? That thought irked him just as much as the injury did.

"I have been better, so do forgive my current state. The physicians say I should be fit for desk duty again in another week or so, which is some good news at least, but I assume you have more pressing business with me?"

"Slow down, cowpoke. Wouldn't want to add another week's stay by accident. I'll come where you can see me a bit better," Though her tone was that usual bored drawl, she obviously was trying to poke fun with the young man as she would walk to a more flattering angle for his vision. Wouldn't want her Coordinator to fuck himself up any more than he already did. Though with his answer, she'd let out a dry chuckle,

"From what I heard sir, you got slammed through an entire fucking floor. And last I checked, most people's bodies can't take a hit like that too well. I'd say be happy you aren't dead or resembling steamed broccoli right now. You were doing your job, shit happens."

She definitely could imagine plenty of worse states to be, far too vividly as she addressed the young man,

"Well, if you'd call a little bedside chat 'pressing business' then sure. Surprising you can keep up the stringent attitude even like that, seen plenty of tough guys in less severe of a state completely crumble into piss babies when they're in pain. I'm impressed."

She'd nonchalantly continue on her bag of snacks, a little shrug with the casual attitude. She figured sounding all tense and serious wouldn't do much to help his own mood.

He did not quite know what a cowpoke was, perhaps some slang he had yet to hear in this melting pot of different cultures that the City of Light had become. But the sentiment was certainly one shared by his doctors and attendants, and a boring one at that. Was he fit enough for it? Absolutely not. But if that was the price of escaping the monotony of hospital life then he would pay it willingly. It was no secret that he was dedicated to his job, and the whole event had raised questions that were not going to be answered whilst he languished here.

“Fortunately, we are not most people. The Sternritter are the Vandenreich’s sword and shield, so it will take more than a few floorboards to lay me low.”

Of course, it had been more than some loose floorboards that he had been slammed through. The mind numbing feeling of his body crashing into concrete and being forced further downward crept into the back of his mind, the whole fight was like a fever dream of fire and pain in his memories. It had been his subconscious doing most of the heavy lifting, instincts sharper than reactions to know where to focus his Blut and focus his Reishi absorption. The Alastair of a year before would have likely died from the impact, but Jefferson amongst other things had steeled his nerves and honed his skills.

“And if I let myself languish on what has happened then I will not be able to process moving forwards. I owe that much to those that were not as fortunate.”

His gaze was stoic, bloodshot from either sleep deprivation or other means but firm. He was a serious man first and foremost. But his smile did grow just a little, that steely look softening as he might have gone to laugh but instead winced in pain before continuing.

“Certainly, I hope not to be a ‘piss-baby’ at any point in my life. It sounds grossly unpleasant.”

"Few floorboards, huh?" She'd mutter with an inkling of unamusement in her expression. Even if he was bearing the pain, he sure as hell was trying to save face. Not an unexpected behavior of what seemed to be a young man dedicated to his work, but one she knew she would be giving a quiet stamp of disapproval for eons to come. However the hinting in his words gave hint to a far more... Morbid, source of his motivation. From what she gleaned, this operation wasn't quite a tragedy, but the prior one...

"So, what exactly did you make of what happened?" She skirted over that thought for now; no use bickering with what she envisioned would be quite the brick wall, "I heard there were opponents with Quincy powers. Surprising with how slim investigative efforts seem to be, but then again I figure we aren't quite comparable to Lux Orior."

Yet, some silent, disregarded voice spoke within her, "Must've been a nasty surprise, your own against you."

It was not hard to tell that she was judging him by every word he spoke, perhaps because it was exactly how he would have sounded were their roles reversed. Even still, it was rather off putting to be cross examined in such a manner by a little girl. The fact that a deep wisdom hung heavy behind those youthful eyes only really furthered the mystery of what exactly she was.

“The mission was partially successful. Some elements of the rogue group were captured, so too were members of a secondary group that assaulted our operatives and had to be subdued by force.”

He would be expected to submit a report in detail to his superiors once he was considered able, and there were several concerning details at that, but it would serve no use to have fellow members of the Sternritter kept totally in the dark on these matters. Still, he had not been able to accomplish every objective and had suffered injuries and losses to his mission team. No one had said it, because both he and Reida were equal in rank, but he had taken some degree of leadership and thus bore the price of this costly victory upon his conscience.

“My own? It was not a surprise to be facing other Quincy, if that is what you mean, as it was expected from the briefing wherein it seemed likely that these imposters were somewhat spiritually inclined. But I do not consider them ’my own’. Troublemakers that would pull the world a little closer to anarchy are not the same as Vandenreich members, regardless of heritage or abilities.”

“I have hardly been able to perform any investigations from my bed, though. I imagine such a matter has already been transferred to the Todgestalten, and I have the utmost faith in Coordinator Copeland and her team to provide us with enough to deal with this threat for good.”

Liltotto nodded along as he divulged his own perspective and stance of the mission and it's outcome. From what she gathered, the actual point of the mission had been successful, but those creeping loose ends were all too apparent. She fully understood the young man's hesitance to putting much confidence of success - whoever orchestrated this was still very much free to kick dust up again, whoever the hell they were.

"Hmm, good answer. Good to see the young Coordinator's wit hasn't dimmed, even as a bed mummy," she'd muse, clearly stated as a joking complement despite her rather dry way of stating it, "Don't stress yourself too much about something out of your field. I get it; you'd probably wanna track these guys down and figure them out, but you really should take it easy. Would hate to see a bright guy like you dwindle from the stress - you find something, you find something, but the most part? Leave it to the specialized."

She'd cross her arms, giving him a bit of a, 'you better listen' expression, before shrugging softly and shifting gears, "So, how long you've been here?"

Alastair's body groaned in quiet complaint as he adjusted his position again. It was hard to get perfectly comfortable when one was confined to a single bed for days on end, he had explored every little crevasse of the mattress and had to make do with what he could find. The whole situation was made more uncomfortable by the fact that he was getting lectured by Liltotto, who appeared as a child at best. Her deal was mysterious, even from what reports he could recall reading before shipping out to Anaconda, but the framing of the conversation would always be unsettling.

"An instrument is only useful as long as it remains perfectly honed. Every day I waste letting my mind and body atrophy in here, the further behind I fall. Stress is excess baggage that I do not have room for, there are a dozen other matters to tend to first."

Of course, that was a lie. He dealt with stress just like anyone else, and it was a burden that only grew heavier by the day, but he would never let on that fact. Even on the back foot, the Coordinator would remain calm and collected. He wondered what exactly she meant by her question, perhaps there was something more personal and in-depth at stake but instead, he took the direct approach.

"Fifteen days, including the night of the operation. The damage to my arm was deemed severe enough that some elements had to be biologically recreated before the healing process could even begin. I am lucky they were able to preserve it."

She honestly felt for the kid, even if she didn't want to admit it out loud. He really was itching to get right back out there and back on track. The time in bed had to have been pretty distressing for him - didn't take a genius to understand that. While she definitely felt pity, there was also still that weird sense of caution she felt.

"Yeah yeah, I gotchu..." She'd speak up, "I wouldn't wanna be in your position either. Being idle when you really don't wanna be sucks ass," Though soon after, she'd pat the bed rather than him for obvious reasons, "Just remember your limits, though. You don't wanna end up permanently fucked up - then you've got the rest of your life being stuck."

Though she didn't receive the exact answer she was intending, it was kind of expected given the vagueness of her question; definitely the smart yet evasive type, "Yeesh. Yeah, be glad you weren't born a few hundred years ago, else you'd likely be a few pounds lighter from the sounds of it. Couldn't do half the shit we can do now versus before."

"Though, the question was more towards how long you've been in the Vandenreich, rather than how long you've been a bed prisoner."

"Limits are to be pushed, even in the face of an impossible climb."

And there was Alastair's true strength, that underlying drive to keep moving forwards regardless of the personal cost. If he was ever going to achieve anything meaningful in his lifetime then he could never waste his time worrying about the price of failure. More than a man, he was an idealist.

"Though if I had been lucky enough to have been born centuries before then perhaps I would not have been in such a situation. We did go through a golden age before the world regressed into its current state."

An eyebrow rose at Liltotto's clarification, which had clearly not been as obvious to the man as she had hoped. Perhaps there was still some concussion lingering, or he was just a little bit off on the social cues?

"Oh, naturally. I have spent near five years with the Vandenreich now. Fighting through the Fourth World War and everything that has come after it. My time in the Sternritter has been especially good to me, even if the current situation might detract from it."