[Video] [NOT locked to New Hires]

[wheyoftheadept]

[Saturday is sitting up in an infirmary cot, swaddled in bandages - including her throat.  The tablet is hovering in front of her, near her head, and her heavily bandaged hands are obscured in her lap.  She's focusing fiercely on whatever she's got there, and appears to be typing.

In a moment, the distorted voice of Alexa reads out what she's trying to say.  The speakers on the table are just good enough to hear it, though it sounds reverb-y and echoed.]

 Hey.  Just wanted to join the sickposting club.  It's really fucking boring here -

[The robotic way Alexa breaks 'fucking' into two distinct syllables briefly cracks her up]

 - and I can't talk or even use my hands that much.  Also Alexa keeps correcting my grammar.  Doctor says I am gonna heal up though, one hundred percent.  So, what did I miss?  And does anyone wanna come keep me company?

Comments

[wheyoftheadept]

WELL THAT IS ONE WAY. Saturday smiles as she says it, because it's not meant to sting. SO WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS THE RECKLESS ONE AND WHICH ONE GOT MAD ABOUT IT?

[heterochrocatic]

"Eh. I dunno. I yelled at her about like... how she thinks she has to put the whole stupid world on her shoulders. She never says what it is she actually wants, she just... goes alogn with whatever she thinks people need her to do." Catra looks glum, her gaze sliding away for a moment.

"...I hate that. She's going to let it kill her someday."