A hand on his shoulder, a hand of comfort or false assurances, if it wasn't for the helmet and flight suit keeping a majority of him from being readable, the visiting doctor could at least feel a cold and rigid muscle on his shoulder... But CS didn't seem to make any movement in response, no looking, no relaxing, no tensing. But he knew the Doctor was a non-threat, even if echos in his mind screamed to get that hand off of him. Meanwhile Doctor Hope had stood up to greet Engima and Cipher physically, first Enigma received her custom as their hands grasped each others forearms and their grip seemed tight, holding position for a few seconds before letting them drop down again. The same repeated for Cipher. Enigma meanwhile zipped up the capsule stuffed bag and held it down his side with one arm before they both departed... Steps in sync, not a single word spoken until the two had left the room and that airtight door had sealed behind them.
"Now about your query with out health, that is a difficult subject..." He said with reluctance. Doctor Hope was actually for once obvious about her feelings for the subject, her visors gaze already taking off towards an empty space in the room and hands gripping eachother tightly with interlocking fingers. She didn't wish to partake... "Words again don't describe what was waiting for us when we enrolled, it's hard to when what takes place there when it is as silent as a sarcophagus, depression would be an applicable word unless it was engineered to the optimal functioning parameter... Personal joys became personal vulnerabilities that needed to be stripped in replacement for adaptations to the Void herself, what was left was a shell of a human dedicated to its environment and service to the 'public good' rather than a constantly changing regime and it's greed, but learning our lives were on the line for something equally destructive and corrupt... But the more we learnt about who took advantage from our service, arguments and division with 'higher ups' were bound to happen. So now we take that oath to the public good officially within the Platform... Even if my self-deprecating humour seems to be intact, I'd rather be depressed about something I know I don't want and have an active route to resolution, rather than live an existence where depression is incompatible to the function you're enforced to carry out and being fully aware that your efforts are detrimental to happiness." The quote, hardly far from humorous, but for him, it's more than obvious that it doesn't need to be stated with all seriousness. A circumstance lived through day by day, no matter the cost.
When Doctor Holiday queried about the uniforms and their faint detailing, CS soon held a bit of his combat webbing, his gloved thumb running down a padded shoulder strap. "Yes, you may... Some tell stories about us, some are expressions of ourselves and a rare journey to reseek what we've lost, it takes time to read and interpretation we leave upto any onlookers." The embroidery were seven horizontal swords in oscillating directions, on the other strap, three swords point down until the last at the bottom is laid horizontally. "We struggle to bring ourselves to speak directly about our experiences, it's better to encourage tales and myths to avoid the damage that can be caused by the knowledge we hold to become... Abused. Humanity for all it's might has many faults the more powerful the individual becomes. Sometimes it's safer to accept that we are just somebody and nobody at the same time." He seemed adamant about staying out the spotlight, although time would tell if this would keep the attention away or spike a craving for those who wanted to dig deeper into the abyss of Thuringians.
"The cell of the 'Damnatio Memoriae' are not the civilian governing type, so it's thankfully balanced by the others cell capabilities for civilian welfare and regular political frontiers. We are purpose built do deal with... Extra-stellar events and to give the Platform and Bundschuh the knowledge to survive them."
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