Hospitals. White, sterile, eerie.
Of the few memories Callie could recall, hospitals were at the top of the list. Typically, she understood when she needed things to be done. Stitches, IVs. But if she thought she could avoid it, she would. Unfortunately for her, Aster had a demanding side in his own way, one that could convince her to even be standing in the Med center.
Her feet felt closely to cinder blocks, shuffling across the floor at a snails pace while she looked for any living soul in the particularly deserted place. Most of the staff was probably out doing things related to the landing, but still, leaving it empty?
Just as the thought came to life, Callie’s eyes met the back of someone’s head. “Oh! Uh...” She sounded rather shocked, processing who it would be. From the looks of it, it seemed like--”Richard?” The name slipped out, soft and questioning. Instinctively, she looked down at her arm: reddened all throughout, scrapes in several areas of the already raw abrasion, and some unknown agents embedded. She hoped it was just pollen, but the idea of alien pollen was... Eugh.
@greenehq