Lorica is in the infirmary, casts on both arms and a leg, bandages in lieu of clothes over most visible bits of torso. She's in something marginally more dignified than a hospital gown. "Hiiiiii library elf."

"- hi. Are you okay?"

"I'll be fiiiiii," yawn, "ne."

" - okay."

He sits down. He starts singing.

"Ooh," she murmurs.

"You don't seem super up to talking. This okay?"

"It's pretty."

"Mmhmm." Singing.

It's nice.

Lorica being hurt is upsetting. Presumably because he needs her to save the world. It makes sense that having come very close to losing the person he needs to save the world would be upsetting. He should probably improve his contingency plans so then he'll be a little less upset about bad things happening to Lorica. 

Singing.

Eventually a bot brings her some food. Her helmet tips up enough that the bot can pass her food without him being able to see her face.

"Would you like something to eat?" Rete asks him.

"No, I'm okay. If you can tell me how often we'll be interrupted I can sing and do artifact blocks."

"Transit will visit sometime in the next three to four hours. I deliver Miracle Max's prescriptions and all her food myself."

"Okay." So he does a short block, singing.

Transit, also helmeted and suited up, tiptoes in and sits on the other side of Lorica's bed for a while. If they're talking it's helmet-to-helmet and the sound is blocked.

He doesn't look up.

Eventually Transit leaves.

"Do you just keep the helmet on or did you have to put it on because I was coming."

"I have it off when I sleep, it's comfy but not that comfy, but I've got no arms," she says. "I can like. Play stupid browser games and reread things. I'm loopy but I can get bored."

"It looks miserably boring, yeah. What happened?"

"A thing exploded."

"Do you think she was trying to kill you?"

"Dunno."

Sigh. Shiver. 

"I'll be okay."