Silence? Sneakery? It appeared Fetti had no choice but to mutely follow along in whatever precautions Vesci felt it necessary to adhere to. Normally that would have invited more interest but if one was going to slowly, slowly reel in their fishing line, they should have put more bait on it than a discount and a few panicked glances. She felt foolish standing in this cart. Was this was her compatriots felt like when she had fallen victim to paranoia, out past the estate? Nonsense. Her suspicions were perfectly sensible.
Before another second of grousing, the word outbreak struck like a bolt of lightning. Blood? Fatal? Only one surviving patient? Fetti took those words and ran with each of them like they were kites and this was the first majestic crest of wind in what would soon be a hurricane. There was enough in this bit of news to start forming a mental report without a moment’s hesitation.
“Right, right, well, let me work through the possibilities.”
Already the unmistakable tone of someone excited to start a puzzle.
“There are a lot.”
A palm opening and closing. Ready to speak and yet - not. There actually weren’t that many at all, but Vesci didn’t need to know that.
In her workings, only a few phrases were distinguishable. Not for being inaudible but for speed. No hushed tones for her. Possible iron deficiency. Cannot be immediate. Only by severe neglect. Typically in dirt. Certainly not purely by the power of suggestion. Possibly combative bloodlust? But that would be a craving for violence, with blood as a subsequent reward. To be consumed? Consumed, is it? Multiple victims? Transmittable consumption?
“I… I, ah..”
She adjusts, boarding on fidgets with, her mask. An excellent day for lavender.
“I’m still going to need more, I’m afraid. Where, when, and how you’ve been faring, of course. Both, I mean, in how you’ve been able to and how you’ve been feeling. You look like you’ve been holding up superbly.”
Given the circumstances.
“This doesn’t resemble anything I know. At least, not yet. As far as an investigation goes, this might be just the beginning.”
How could that not come out eagerly as all hell?
“I understand perfectly, Doctor. This isn’t the first time I’ve had a check up. And... realize there may be others, but. For obvious reasons there’s probably a bit of a need to keep quite about it.” Vesci takes a deep breath, and after a moment, begins to regale the story of her... infection.
It’s a fairly straightforward one, all in all. An expedition into the Ruins, looking for capital for the Manor, the skeletons, the brigands, all the expected fiends and fighting that an expedition is full of. Vesci doesn’t seem all that bothered as she glosses over that part, but her face does fall as she gets to a particular encounter. Insectoid men, and flurries of horrid bloodsucking insects. She describes the fall of her team by the beasts, if perhaps only for flavor text.
“... I suppose it was just horror and that deafening insect whine, but... I didn’t move, when they lunged for me, and I got bitten. Nothing big, I’d thought, everyone gets bitten by mosquitoes, right? But... My veins felt like they were on fire, worse than that blight the swinemen are so fond of.” She sighs, clasping and unclasping her hands slowly as she considers how to tell the rest of it. “After it subsided, however, I felt fine for... most of the expedition. Perturbed, but fine. The blood cravings set in a few hours later.” Vesci pauses, and ruffles through a small wicker basket, pulling out a handful of vials on a silver chain. Blood vials, all of them, miraculously still liquid as she holds them up.
“I’ve been collecting these, since then, off of enemies. It’s been about three, maybe four weeks? And if I don’t... forget, that this is something I have to do every couple of days, I feel fine. Better than fine, actually; I daresay I feel fantastic”
She looks to Fetti, as if attempting to gauge her reaction through the mask before continuing.
“I tried to talk to the Nurses at the Santarium, and they tried to inter me for delusions. We aren’t getting along.” She unties her scarf, and smiles - a warm smile, if not for the decidedly predatory bent that the new fangs lent her.
“Delusions don’t do this, after all.”