Hm. [ Right, the leg. Qubit leans back to look down at it, as if he could make anything out through the thick padded clothing. It happened months ago, part of that same incident with Ami. The Blight Heir had attacked her, and in self-defense, she'd neatly snapped one of his legs off at the knee, with a bullwhip, of all things. (Of course, by that point he'd regained control of himself, but she'd had no way of knowing that.) Somehow, Carlisle had managed to suture it back on - though with the tissue that badly attenuated to begin with, he must have had his work cut out for him.
But apparently it had worked. Qubit had checked up on it periodically over the ensuing months, even offering to 3D-print him a knee brace if he needed. But he doesn't recall Carlisle having any complaints (and Lord knows, Carlisle's not one to keep his complaints to himself), nor did he notice any issues. Thus, eventually, it had quietly slipped from his radar. No news is good news, right? ]
I suppose.
[ But he doesn't sound fully satisfied with that assumption, now that it's been brought to his attention again. Still, after a second, he pulls himself away and goes to finish putting up the hair stuff. ]
How is the leg, by the way? It's been a while since you mentioned it.
no subject
But apparently it had worked. Qubit had checked up on it periodically over the ensuing months, even offering to 3D-print him a knee brace if he needed. But he doesn't recall Carlisle having any complaints (and Lord knows, Carlisle's not one to keep his complaints to himself), nor did he notice any issues. Thus, eventually, it had quietly slipped from his radar. No news is good news, right? ]
I suppose.
[ But he doesn't sound fully satisfied with that assumption, now that it's been brought to his attention again. Still, after a second, he pulls himself away and goes to finish putting up the hair stuff. ]
How is the leg, by the way? It's been a while since you mentioned it.