veryroundbirdfics | Arknights | It Takes a Village

Rating: Mild
Words: 2105
Characters: Myrrh, Ifrit, Silence, Mayer, Saria, Ptilopsis, Kafka
Relationships: Rhine Labs Polycule
Summary: Ifrit gets in trouble for accidentally setting some fires in class, and volunteer teacher Myrrh has to go speak to her guardian--the problem is, she's not really sure who that is.
Notes: 2021 Pride Month request for MirrorMystic!

“I’m going to need to speak to your guardian,” was, theoretically, a simple request. The fact of the matter was that nothing was very simple or easy when it came to Rhodes Island’s littlest arsonist.

When Myrrh had volunteered to teach some basic academics to some of Rhodes Island’s younger patients, she’d thought it would be… well, scary, but Dr. Kal’tsit said it would be a good way to build confidence and expertise. And, of course, Myrrh had experience working with some of those patients, but–

But.

“Operator Myrrh–please be quick,” said Dr. Silence, briskly, catching her by the arm. “Walk with me.”

“Um–all right!” said Myrrh, desperately. “You see, it’s about Ifrit. Today in class–”

Dr. Silence looked down sharply, pausing mid-step. “Oh, no. Again?”

Again what, Myrrh’s brain started ahead of her mouth, and she was beginning to feel she’d gotten in over her head. “Well, I don’t… um, I’m taking over for Ms. Dobermann, you see, since she has additional responsibilities, but–”

“Dr. Silence! Patient’s in the OR, ready for you–critical!” called another intern, across the room.

“Shit,” Dr. Silence swore, in a way that almost took Myrrh aback, and she shook her head. “Got to go. I’ll stop by afterward; please forward a list of what needs replacing to me, and any make-up work to Dr. Meyer. And–”

She paused, nodding crisply. “Please let Ifrit know that I’ll be back this evening. I promise.”

And with that, she dashed off down the hall, to the room with the blinking red light, leaving Myrrh faintly, well–faint, because now she had a list of even more people to talk to.

Dr. Mayer wasn’t even in medical. Myrrh had heard of her–who hadn’t?–but she’d never actually run into her on the landship.

It turned out she wasn’t actually very hard to find. It did take Myrrh a few minutes before she got up the nerve to clear her throat to alert Ifrit’s… other? guardian? to her presence.

“Oh, hi!” Dr. Mayer said, when she scooted out from under the machinery she’d been working on. “Sorry, I probably didn’t hear you. I hope you weren’t waiting long! Do they need me up in medical, or do you have an equipment request?”

She said all of that very fast. Myrrh had to stand there with it for a second before confirming to herself that she could say no to all of that.

“It’s about Ifrit, actually…?”

“Oh, you should have just banged on the door, then! I haven’t got anything urgent, and I know Liv had a long day today, so I figured probably I should head over around dinner hour to make sure kiddo’s got something to eat and that she’s doing her homework–”

“Um,” said Myrrh.

There was a pause. “Oh. I’m doing that thing where I just have three whole conversations before I let you talk, huh,” Dr. Mayer said, after a moment.

“Little bit.”

“Right. Well.” Dr. Mayer took a perch on her work table. “What’s the sitch? Just let me know when you’re done.”

What a relief. Myrrh explained–Ifrit had gotten into an argument with a classmate and singed their stuffed animal, and then had accidentally lit it on fire worse while thinking better of it and trying to put it out, which resulted in a fire that had at least not damaged any furniture but had ruined a lot of textbooks.

...and Dr. Mayer was, Myrrh thought, struggling very hard not to laugh while keeping her face in her hands.

“Oh no,” she said, when Myrrh was done. “That’s our Ifrit. At least this time she didn’t set anything on fire on purpose.”

Myrrh suddenly wondered if she’d done something Dr. Kal’tsit didn’t like? Although that didn’t seem like her particular way.

“Um–well,” hedged Myrrh, “I’d… like to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I know she means well–”

(Myrrh wasn’t admittedly sure about that but it seemed nice to say.)

“–but as it’s difficult to get some of our textbooks, it’s important that she work on controlling her emotions.”

Dr. Mayer nodded. “Yeah–definitely. Tell you what–I’m not the disciplinarian, but…” She frowned, mouth thinning into a thoughtful line. “Liv just told you to talk to me?”

Myrrh nodded. “She was busy, so she had to run off–she just referred me to you specifically. I don’t know if there’s… someone else I should be talking to?”

“Hm.” Dr. Mayer sat quietly for a few more moments, and then nodded to herself. “Tell you what–I think, probably, you should talk to Saria on this one.”

“Oh.” Oh no. Myrrh knew Operator Saria by reputation and by having been in her physical presence a few times, and–

Well. She had an intimidating presence, to say the least. It was clear Dr. Mayer could see Myrrh’s trepidation, though, because she cut in–“She’s way nicer than she looks, I swear! She’s just got resting bitch face, you know?”

“So, um–” Myrrh frowned. “Is she one of Ifrit’s guardians?”

“Well, she’s definitely who you want to talk to about discipline. She’s one of the few people who can make Ifrit calm down and listen,” said Dr. Mayer, and shuffled Myrrh toward the door. “I think you’ll find her in the gym this time of day, if you want to catch her.”

Myrrh was halfway down the hall before she realized that Dr. Mayer hadn’t actually answered the question.

The gym was about as foreign to Myrrh as the engineering laboratories. She avoided both of them due to the preponderance of loud noises, explosions, and people who were some variety of scary to her.

It turned out the gym was actually relatively quiet at this hour, though–maybe because most operators were at dinner or hitting the showers, as Myrrh wandered by empty training room after empty training room.

She could hear distantly one last person hard at work; it was in the last corner room that she found who she was looking for, still slamming her gloved fists against the punching bag.

Unlike Dr. Mayer, Operator Saria noticed her right away, putting a hand to the swinging back to still it with a serious face. “Medical Intern Myrrh,” she said.

“Um–right, yes,” said Myrrh. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“Ah–” Operator Saria looked away, slightly. “I try and pay attention. It’s just a habit. What do you need?”

Her voice was a little softer in a one-on-one conversation than Myrrh expected; she’d seen Saria in the field barking out orders in a way that made her unsurprised that she was who Dr. Mayer thought of as the disciplinarian, but outside of that, she was–

...well. Quiet. Myrrh cleared her throat. “It’s about Ifrit, you see.”

Saria listened attentively with almost too much focus, and didn’t interrupt her while she explained; at the end, she frowned.

“So Hanna told you to get me,” she summarized.

First name basis…? Myrrh nodded. “More or less,” she said. “She seemed a little worried…”

“There’s a handful of reasons why that could be,” said Saria, “but I couldn’t tell you which one it is. If she thinks it’s appropriate, though…”

Saria seemed like a very controlled person; she didn’t even fidget as she stood there, holding very still. “Well, I can speak with her about discipline. It’s probably about time that she undergo additional training, if she wants to be in the field someday, too. I know it’s one of her motivations–even if it’s just to follow the rest of us.”

Myrrh was really beginning to wonder who “us” comprised, at this point. Saria said she’d message Dr. Mayer, and then–to Myrrh’s decreasing surprise–gave Myrrh one more stop on her trip.

“I think Ms. Moore should be back in quarters with Ifrit right now,” Saria said. “If you could let her know, and…”

A funny look crossed Saria’s face. “...and to expect a lot of visitors, I suppose,” she finished.

Myrrh had never actually caught Operator Ptilopsis’s name, so finding out that it was something so mundane as “Joyce Moore” felt like some kind of forbidden knowledge. Moore looked up with her wide, owlish eyes when Myrrh entered–

–and then Ifrit, running across the room, stopped abruptly in her tracks. And then the brown-haired liberi mostly obscured by a curtain of wild brown hair who’d been chasing her ran directly into her back, bowling both of them over.

“Ah,” said Myrrh. (In a way, maybe Dr. Kal’tsit had intended this, like she seemed to just know most things–at this point, all of this hardly seemed like too much.)

“Medic Operator Codename: Myrrh,” said Moore, in her crisp monotone. “You are authorized to have a seat, if desired.”

“Someone’s in trouuuuble,” whispered the brown-haired mystery woman.

“I’m–shut up,” said Ifrit, pushing a hand in her face; the woman gave a raucous laugh.

"Should I get goin', Miss Moore?" she asked, extracting herself.

“Negative. I may require additional observational data to relay to Dr. Silence, a task you have proven adept at. Furthermore, Dr. Silence trusts your tactical analysis,” said Moore, and then looked back to Myrrh, who had forgotten to sit down and very hurriedly did so.

Ptilopsis was–weird, even by Myrrh’s standards. Myrrh didn’t really know what was up with her, but she didn’t really feel like she could judge; in a way, she was a bit…

...cool, maybe, in that she didn’t really seem to let anything bother her. Or if anything did, Myrrh didn’t know about it.

Kafka, meanwhile, just sprawled out on the rest of the couch. “So, this kid’s causing trouble?”

Ptilopsis folded her hands in her lap. “Please allow Operator Myrrh to explain.”

Myrrh did–the whole thing, starting from class and ending with Saria’s referral. She could see Ptilopsis’s eyebrows raise just a touch at the fact that Saria had been involved–which honestly raised a lot of questions for Myrrh–but she nodded along, at the end.

“I see,” she said. “As an instructor, what do you think about the recommended course of action?”

“Um,” said Myrrh, “I’m new to this, admittedly. So, probably, I’ve also been letting the kids push me around. But I think everyone’s suggestions so far are good…”

“Did Saria really say I should do more training…?” came a low voice over the back of the couch, and Myrrh realized that Ifrit was crouching back there. She didn’t sound entirely unhappy–actually, maybe the opposite?

“She… did, yes,” said Myrrh, ducking her head. “But–I guess, it seems important that I get all of your opinions?”

Ptilopsis looked to Kafka. “On this matter, your perspective as a certified troublemaker would be appreciated,” she said, completely deadpan. (Myrrh had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She didn’t know the serious-faced medic made jokes?)

Kafka, for her part, took it in stride, twiddling a pen between her fingers. “Well, if it’s not too much for someone like me to say–” She pursed her lips, thoughtfully. "I mean, Silence takin' me on was pretty good for me. Gave me stuff to work toward rather than just, uhhh… doin' completely legal shiftless things, y’know?"

She grinned. Myrrh made a note to check that she still had her wallet and ID when she left.

“I…” Myrrh folded her hands, and paused, before going on. “I think I’d probably agree, since… I’m not someone who’s entirely avoided trouble myself, and the work I’ve done at Rhodes Island has been a good focus. If that makes any sense.”

For a moment, she thought Ptilopsis had fallen asleep again with her eyes open, like she sometimes did–but then she spoke again, abruptly. “Suggestion registered,” she said. “Operator Ptilopsis will compile information regarding the topic for Dr. Silence’s approval, though data so far suggests a strong case.”

Ifrit leaned over the couch fully, bursting out with, “Is that a yes? Is it?”

“Administrator approval is still required. The request is still pending.” Ptilopsis blinked once in Ifrit’s direction. “It may assist queue processing to be on your best behavior come dinnertime.”

That seemed… well, like it might be that. Myrrh nodded, and stood up. “I don’t think I need any more from you, then,” she said. “Just–well, I hope we can both have a good relationship. I just had–well, one more question.”

“Waiting for query.”

“...just–who exactly is Miss Ifrit’s guardian?”

Ifrit laughed, a long, raucous cackle. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said, moving around the couch to flop down in what had been Myrrh’s spot. “They all are!”