TIME: May 1st, at some point(tm) LOCATION: Infirmary CLOSED FOR @incinerxtes
The infirmary is abuzz with her own anxiety, staining the otherwise sterile and still landscape with sighs and muted squalls. She wants something to do just as much as she doesn’t, just as much as she’s afraid something to do will overlap with bad news in a way she doesn’t like. But it’s better than sitting there ruminating, thinking about where Feiyan both is and isn’t. She’s filled ten pages of her notebook with theories, two with letters she’ll never send to the woman that isn’t here and one with drawings of the aforementioned woman--as if she might forget her face if she doesn’t see her soon.
It’s worse for the others, she thinks. Those who have known the supposed immortal for longer than the nine years Dana has. How is The Hierophant supposed to be strong in the face of this? Where’s the wisdom she’s supposed to wield? She wishes she had someone left to ask. Are they even much of an institution at all like this? Some guardians they are, bickering about.
“It’s just you and me, George-Two.” Even talking to her cacti brings her less joy than it did before ( if anyone asks, she’s denying that it ever gave her anything to begin with ). Hunched over by the door, she notices the blood first, plopping down on to George-Two. “Are you...bleeding?” She asks the cactus before she has the sense to look up and focus her eyes on Kian. “Oh my god, you’re bleeding.” She jumps up with a start and fumbles around. “Why are you bleeding? Where are you bleeding? How are you bleeding?” In her panic, she stumbles over her words and manners evade her as she continues struggling to remember her job. “You---you bled on my cactus! My cactus! I can’t clean that, Kian!”
