A scalpel's kiss is sweeter than you think

Remi grinned. Sleep was certainly the enemy of his creative mind as well, but it was also a balm when the world spun a little too quickly. Then again, perhaps he'd need to try and work out a way that dreams could somehow be dampened. He couldn't take seeing his mother's weeping face over and over as it was pulled into the muck and mire. Hers, or Loren's. Isla's gentle nudge snapped his mind back to the present and he smiled wryly at her. "Ahh you mean meeting up like normal people?" He chuckled back with a wink. "And have everyone thinking you're shirking your duties by making your patients stitch themselves up? Never." Following her out, Remi took a breath of air that was wonderfully full of things that did not smell dead. He hadn't realized just how stagnant and stale the air in the operating room at been until his senses were reminded of what it was like to breathe normally. Remi found himself nodding in agreement with Isla's take on the war and her part in it. As she asked about him, he squinted as he tried to recall. "The second wave. There were so many of us I found myself meeting those I'd apparently come through months later with no recollection of who they were. I had thought by coming here I might be able to help build a better way.." Realizing how absurdly naive that sounded, Remi shot the healer a foolish grin as he leaned back into one of the chairs. "I had thought because the population would be so much smaller in Northaven that perhaps my inventions could be of more use. And now here we are with an even smaller population, and—" Eyes widening slightly, he glanced up at Isla. "You do not think we will have to worry about increasing the population .. as we were meant to in Northaven?" REMI So come on, get higher, loosen my lips, faith and desire and the swing of your hips Just pull me down hard and drown me in love