Opal didn't like her job. She knew few humans who did, but she considered herself a special case. They didn't have to deal with what she had to deal with. Old men crying, young boys crying, women crying, babies crying. And who had to comfort the pitiful creatures? She did. Opal walked slowly back to the office to look for Mr. Merry's paperwork. Her ankles were swollen, and it was hard for her to move. She snapped at the younger nurses as they walked by. She was a force of nature in itself, despite her age. She had been with the hospital for over thirty years, and had so much authority that even the galdori had to listen to her.

Wendy wanted to be just like her. Yes, Opal was taciturn, complained about her ankles, and was even known to hit the newer recruits if they got in her way. But Wendy saw the power with which she walked. The woman could stitch a wound in under a minute, set broken bones, and even birth babies. When Opal had asked Wendy personally if she could come in a few days extra because one of the younger galdori healers had left, Wendy hadn't even thought twice. Funds would be tight for a few days, but she would manage.

The young nurse suppressed a yawn as she washed her hands and walked out of room 4 burns victim, past room 3, broken arm, to room 2. The smell of rot was powerful, but not unbearable. Wendy thanks Alioe that the patient was asleep and un bandaged the leg. She resisted the urge to make a face and bent over to find clean bandages. Just another day on the job. Wendy thought to herself, grimacing. This was better than the monotony of sweeping, anyway.

A sanitarium should have employees, and one would think they could be found. Nurses ought to have been scuttling up and down the halls, healers should have been muttering to themselves as they perused various clipboards, and all manner of medical personnel should've been going about their business. But such was not the case that day, it seemed.

Having been given indecypherably coarse directions from a grizzled secretary, Abeline was forced to wander the place on her own, newspaper tucked in her elbow. After what seemed like days, but which was probably only one minute, she spotted a small nurse-shaped person. She followed her a short while before the nurse ducked into one of the rooms.

Healer Ixbridge peeked in, knocking lightly on the door frame. "Pardon me, Nurse. I'm looking to fill the position," she said softly, rattling the newspaper which held the advertisement. "Temporarily, mind you. But I'm afraid I've gotten a bit lost." She smiled feebly before laying eyes on the patient. "My goodness, I hope that isn't gangrene."

Wendy felt the field before she saw the galdor, and tensed up. Her head may have lowered an inch, and she didn't immediately answer.

"Ah. Yes. It's gangrene." She replied, keeping her voice carefully neutral as she turned around to face the woman. Her eyes met a woman who was slightly taller, with a no nonsense hair do, and eyes hiding behind spectacles. The mirrored glass made it hard for Wendy to read her expression. After quickly looking her over she walked to the patient, biting the inside of her cheek.

"If... if you wouldn't mind I'd like to finish up before I take you to the office." The passive said quickly, speaking fast so it made it seem like she was going to hurry. Wendy took her time though, keeping her head down and only glancing up to make sure the galdor wasn't angry. She seemed passive enough, and to keep the woman patient she began to explain the man's condition. "He's been through surgery once already, but the injury got infected, and we must have missed some because it's back, further down now." Wendy finished taking off the dirty bandages and tried to keep her face professional at the sight of the blackened flesh that had swollen due to pus, probably. It was hard.

"We were going to try to do another surgery tomorrow, but if you're experienced maybe you can do something else." Her voice was cautiously detached as she finished re-bandaging the leg, and then washed her hands.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. This way please." She lead Abe out of room 2 and closed the door.

"Er... you are applying for the healer position that just opened?" Wendy asked as she used her dress to dry her hands. Her voice was strangely proper, for a human.

"Hmm," was all the galdor said of the patient's plight. Her previous concern seemed to have dwindled rather quickly, and her mind appeared to be occupied by loftier matters. Such as the ceiling. Not much architecture to appreciate up there, but it seemed to hold her attention exceptionally well.

In reality, she was trying to keep her mind as quiet as possible--never knew when a perceptive mage might pop out of the woodwork and read one's innermost thoughts.

"Hrm? Oh, yes." She leveled her brown eyes on the nurse, in the same way she often did to strangers.. as if wondering why they were still hanging around her when they could be off doing something useful or entertaining themselves or generally choosing to not be within her personal sphere of weirdness.

"Afraid I can't do much for.. ah.. Number 2 here," she said, motioning to the door. "I'm a general practitioner, just three years experience at Brunnhold, mostly treating students and professors. Meaning, broken limbs, monic burns, elderly ailments, and a preponderance of venereal diseases. Nothing like gangrene, though."

If Abe was perceptive, she might have noticed her companions features seemed to get pale at the mention of Brunnhold, and that her hands had suddenly clenched on her dress before smoothing it out nervously. It might have been mistaken for a flash of anger at the healer's lack of ability.

"Well that's a pity." Wendy said, tight lipped. "Although your skills will be of use either way."

If I could use the mona I would have been able to-- She cut the thought of sharply as she walked into Opal's office. No use thinking that way.

"Opal?" She asked softly as she knocked on the door. An irritated "Yes?" came from beyond it.

"I've got a healer here. She's applying for the job."

"Come in."

Wendy lead Abe into a small room that was packed to the brim with medicine. Opal snapped her fingers at Wendy and pointed to one of the top shelves. The passive went to go get the medicine indicated down from the shelves as Opal turned towards the healer.

"Have you worked in a sanatorium before?" The human asked briskly. She followed up with other questions quickly. Had Abe ever seen blood? Amputations? Was she willing to comply with the rules? Did she have any references? What was her experience in terms of healing infections?

But even as she fired off more questions, both of the non magic users knew that the questions were needless. Abeline had been hired as soon as she walked through the door.

Abe was a black hole for sensory data when she wanted to be, and a very sparsely-strung net when she didn't. Seeing as the latter was the case at that moment, Wendy's nervous cues went unnoticed. What the healer assumed her eyes were receiving was an overworked human pretending to be polite for the golly lady. She'd come to understand that Vienda had changed in her years of absence, that the humans were no longer safe, and neither was she.

Even so, here she was, supplicant to a round-faced human woman, an Opal apparently as hard as her namesake.

"No. Yes. Yes. Yes." Abe fired back, enjoying the volley. "No, but I can get one mailed from Healer Leach in Brunnhold. Moderate, but I have no experience with factory injuries or the like."

After that, she pursed her lips, contemplative. Her tone was serious, but not hostile. "Now, I have a question for you, Miss Opal. How much does the position pay?"

Opal's face was tough. "For you, honey? Around two shills a day... Four concords a month. Maybe a little extra if you work hard." The woman saw Wendy's head swivel rapidly at the amount of money that she had mentioned. Wendy hadn't seen such large sums since Brunnhold. "Don't give me that look, Wendy. Unless you're hiding the mona up your skirts, you're not getting any more than what I give you."

"I wasn't--!" The passive started to argue hotly, and then closed her mouth at the look Opal was giving her. It was sympathetic one. The nurse knew it was unfair. Wendy went back to digging through bottles, although her face was still in 'argue mode'.

"If you're on a tight budget you can start work today. The rules for working here are simple." Wendy was climbing down from the ladder and gave Opal a bottle. Opal opened it and sniffed it. "The main ones are don't show up to work drunk, do the best you can and no more, and don't mess up."

She capped the jar and looked up. "The other rules are don't complain, and do as you're told. Can you handle that?"

Wendy stared at the woman, her face shining with admiration. She wished, again, that she could be Opal Coman.

"Absolutely." The young healer smiled, chipper. Instant points for the efficient one, and the other human seemed helpful, too. "And I can handle it for half the pay. That's still more than I was making as an intern."

A haughty galdori sniff from her owlish nose, followed by an abstracted adjusting of the glasses. "Of course, I had room and board then. No, wait. I have that now, too..." Mumbling, she glanced to one side. "Yes, that will be adequate. One shill a day."

She did need the money. She needed it rather badly, more than the nurses could comprehend, not for lack of intelligence--obviously, they had some--but for lack of insanity. Although it was probably not the most lucrative employment she could find, the sanitarium was not a random choice on her part. She intended to observe madness from the outside, so that she could recognize it within herself.

But it still wouldn't be right to take advantage of the ill too much.

"I can start right now. Just point me in a direction, and.. I'll do my best."

Opal wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If this galdor wanted to give away half of her pay because of some misguided sense of honor, then let her. She nodded in a business-like manner.

"Good. Until you find your footing, you can follow Wendy. When you get tired stop. I don't want any monic mishaps, please."

Wendy glowered at Opal but didn't protest. Opal wasn't the sort of person you complained to. Instead she squared her shoulders and stared the healer in the eyes.

"Follow me please." She said stiffly, and walked out of the room, towards room 3. "You said you had experience healing broken bones, right Miss...?" Miss something? It was just a question for sake of formalities. They entered a dim room that smelled damp. There was a single window, and the patient was sitting cheerlessly in a bed. The rings surrounding his eyes told tales of a broken nose, and the bandages indicated a broken arm.

"Found a healer for you, Bethos." Wendy said cheerfully as she walked over to his side and unbandaged his arm. When she was done she stepped back and looked pointedly at Abeline.

"Ixbridge," Abeline answered. "Healer Ixbridge." She hadn't given up her name yet, and there was no way in hell she'd give up her title. She had worked hard for it.

"And your name, nurse?" she inquired, despite the dim awareness that she'd just heard the older nurse say it. "I have a feeling I don't want to go calling for Nurse Opal when I knock something over.. I did notice she was favoring her ankles."

She was tempted to remark on the jar of medicine given to Opal, she had an interest in pharmaceuticals, but experience told her it was unprofessional to ask.

On seeing the patient, she quieted down. She had not, in point of fact, ever healed a human before. Her life at Brunnhold had been on an island of academia--galdori academia, not that there was any other sort. How, exactly, humans kept themselves alive remained somewhat of a mystery to her. Wick magic only went so far, and humans somehow managed to persist without any help from the mona at all. That was an admirable trait as far as she was concerned, and she was more than a little eager to observe them at work. It could prove to be very edifying.

Despite her curtness to the healer, this nurse had a good bedside manner, something Abe lacked. A little jealous, she nodded and approached the patient.

"A broken arm, then?" Checking for confirmation. He looked like he had been in a fight; they did use their fists for that, right? Bunt force trauma, at any rate. "Now, sir, I'll need to know the location of the fracture." Visually examining for external signs, she asked softly, "Where, exactly, does it hurt?"

Wendy had gritted her teeth when Healer Ixbridge had asked her name. Why bother. She wasn't going to make any more of an effort to remember it this time.

"Wendy." She had replied, taciturnly thinking that Ixbridge had better learn pretty quickly that the passive wasn't there to pick up after her.

Bethos stared balefully at the three inches above the healer's forehead for a moment, and then pointed to a spot somewhere near the center of his arm.

"There." He grunted, continuing to stare above Abeline's face. Wendy had him pegged as a heavy lifter. He was brawny, and spoke mostly using one syllable words, if he spoke at all. She imagined he was a bachelor, because he had been content to wait in the hospital for a healer instead of begging to get himself fixed quickly for his family's sake. Wendy had a strict no questions policy, but even so she was curious. Few could pay for a hospital. Just where exactly had this man's money come from?

What, pray tell, was the fellow staring at? Was gazing above someone a human sign of respect? Disrespect? Was her hair on fire? Abeline hadn't expected to understand humans right away, but this was more than a little confusing. Ah, well. It also wasn't important, in the grand scheme of things.

The healer squinted at said arm. "Ah, I see the bandages have helped set the bone. Good work," she commented, smiling minutely to Nurse Wendy. "Well, then, I'll..."

Wendy? A name she'd seen in Harper's box.. but a common enough name. For a moment, she let herself wonder where the Tiebold girl lived now, or if she indeed lived at all.

"...I'll get to it."

Forcing niggling little details from her mind, she nodded to the patient. Considering the volume of cases at a sizable hospital such as this, she couldn't offer him the luxury of a mona-induced stupor. She'd have to save her energy, and he'd have to endure. "Now, this will hurt."

Carefully, politely, she requested the particles within him, still inherently magical despite his being human, to heal tissue, focusing primarily on the bone (the humerus, in this case).

Abeline's expert knowledge of anatomy served the spell well. Bethos felt a series of stabbing, aching pains as the magic began to knit his bones together; it was a slow-acting spell, and it was several minutes before it was sufficiently repaired. Around the initial break, bruised tissues began to blossom and swell - a typical side effect of bone reparation.

Bethos made no indication that the healing was having any effect on him, save for the muscle in his jaw, which jumped as he clenched it harder. A single drop of sweat rolled down from his forehead. When she was finished he let out a slow, manly exhale. Perhaps he had gained a few chest hairs from this expereince... er... a few more, that is.

As Abe worked Wendy had left the room for a few seconds. She returned just as Healer Ixbridge finished, and handed Bethos the drink.

"It's hot." She cautioned, "Drink it all. It'll put you to sleep. Tomorrow you can probably leave." She gave him a small smile, nothing more.

"This way, Healer Ixbridge." Her voice returned to its formal tone. For the next three hours they went from room to room, healing bones, sprains, and fractures. Or rather, Wendy lead Abe from room to room, went to get some tea, and brought it to the humans for when she was done. She was impressed in spite of herself. The last healer they'd had hadn't worked nearly as hard, or been nearly as thorough.

He had also complained far too much.

"We'll take a short break now." Wendy said, leading her to the room reserved for personnel only. It was small, and had several chairs that looked as if they'd been taken out of someone's home. There was a stove in the corner of the room, making the temperature more decent than in the rest of the hospital. "There isn't really a separate room for go-- galdori... Sorry. Would you like some tea?" The way she said it was casually bitter. She had wanted to forestall any odd looks she might receive for (gods forbid) sitting in the same room as one.

The pair had been standing for the past three hours, and the break would be short. Wendy skirted around chairs towards the stove, putting the kettle on it anyway. She didn't want to give off the impression that she was just making it for the Healer.

"Oh, I would love tea," she breathed, dropping into a chair.

Engrossed in the precious comfort of sitting down, the healer looked too tired to care about the unsegregated space. Her face had paled and the circles under her eyes had darkened, transmuting her fatigued, blank expression to something grim and haunted.

Beneath her hair bun, the cogs were turning, slow and majestic, each so vast as to reach beyond the horizons of her mind. Abe couldn't see even one gear completely--she couldn't hope to see the whole machine. Yet, she did hope, despite the lifeless pall to her gaze.

Nothing mattered--not the old stove, not the mis-matched chairs, not the nurse's seemingly low opinion of her, and not this pussyfooting around the issue of racial privilege. There was no call for Abeline to feel so frustratingly self-conscious around the 'lower' races. Offending them would not mean the end of the world, and as much as she disliked making a pest of herself, it was a reassuring thought.

However, paradoxically, everything mattered. The interesting pattern of the cracks on the wall (the Arova in plaster miniature), the admirable Nurse Opal (a mountain of dried sage), Wendy's petulant scowl (a lovely peach with a core of cyanide).

Oppression, along with freedom, was worth saving. Anguish had as much right to exist as joy. Hatred. Love. Yes, even the worst of it was better than nothing at all.

She would give her life--not a heroic death, she had no need for that. Not a split-second judgement to save another's life by sacrificing her own, no. Her will would simply outlast her mind and body, and when they gave way, there would be no saving her.

Staring at a wall, she spoke in a whisper. "At this rate, I won't last much longer."

Wendy had been approaching with a cup and saucer, and heard Healer Ixbridge's words. "We-- You can stop whenever you like. We don't want any accidents." She handed the healer her tea and gave her a wan smile. "Here, it's not too strong. Just refreshing." As she turned around she made a face. Apparently being friendly while handing tea to all of the patients had become a habit. She'd accidentally smiled at the Healer.

Oh well. I'm too tired to care. Wendy thought, feeling a sharp stabbing pain in the heels of her feet. She got herself a cup and sat down. The edge of the cup was hot. She put it down on the table next to her. "Perhaps you shouldn't have halved your pay." Wendy said into the air. It was something she was really wondering about. Why the tic would anyone refuse that amount of money?

I could get a nicer house... buy vegetables that aren't bruised... She watched the steam slowly rise from the edge of the cup. Weariness was seeping into her bones. It was always hard to get back to work after a break... even a short one. If Abeline couldn't work any further, Wendy would ask her if she wanted to learn nurse duties, or if she wanted to go home. Privately, she hoped the healer wanted to go home, so that Wendy could preserve her bad opinion of the woman.

Abeline appreciated the smile, however small it was. The girl's impish face appeared to be built for a sly little grin, not a put-upon frown. As a healer, Abe didn't have an in-depth familiarity with aesthetic theory, but the smile struck her as more correct. Wendy's perpetual frown, however, was not nearly as troubling as when Harper's cheerful features lowered. Then, it felt as though the world itself was incorrect. If it forced the effervescent professor to be perturbed, the universe had to be a cold and cruel place, indeed.. and he had been frowning a lot of late. Threw her off balance, it did.

Tea, however, could warm even the iciest corners of reality. Pitching her eyebrows up, she nodded her thanks.. although the nurse had turned away by then.

"You're right, I shouldn't have." Her tone suggested rational agreement, but she shook her head. Should she attempt to explain why? The human wasn't likely to understand--not that many galdori would, either--but... "I'm not doing this for money, I'm doing it for myself. I have enough to live off of, the government ensures that.. I was just.. I had to do something. Watching it all fall apart around me while I was stuck sitting on my hands.. It was driving me to distraction." She sipped the tea, testing it. Too hot yet. "So here I am, trying to keep my mind off things, while also contributing to society at the same time."

She furrowed her brow, adding, "I am tired, magically speaking, but I only have frustration to go home to. I might as well stay here. I can do things without the mona holding my hand, so I can still be a help. I'll try not to get in the way."

Wendy stared at Abeline with something akin to shock etched on her features. She remembered herself and hastened to erase it. It was strange, she had known exactly what the healer was talking about. Exactly. Wendy understood all too well the need to be busy. It was what kept her working every day. The more she worked, the harder it was to think about things that upset her... She didn't cry herself to sleep anymore, she was too tired to indulge herself. And as time passed, her anger seemed to diminish. It seemed to matter less than her daily worries about food and money.

The death of her friend was no longer a constant presence, but was instead a passing shadow in her most acute moments of loneliness. And even those were lessening. The passive still felt that pain in the pit of her stomach, but it had been such a consistent ache for so long that she had begun to learn to live with it. He wasn't coming back. No amount of crying, and suffering could bring him back, just like no amount of hate and anger could make her a galdor.

At times she was frustrated with herself. She'd often heard of time healing all wounds, but part of her didn't want to heal. Wendy liked stability, had always considered herself an unvarying sort of person. Change frightened her. The resentment was still there,but it was a more difficult flame to keep burning than it had been before, when she had been so close to what could have been. Although she would never admit it to herself, part of her fed that anger out of the feeling that she should.

It was hard to do, though, when she worked. Just like sadness, it seemed to fade away. Wendy often wondered if soon she'd become a non feeling person. If she would evolve into a being who lived to work. Sadly, she was fine with that. Working was certainly easier than dealing with...well...feelings.

"Well, you know what they say. The devil finds work for idle hands. It's probably best that you're here." Privately, she wondered about Abeline's circumstances. Were the revolutionaries really causing galdori to get upset?

"Alioe knows there's enough to do here. I'd work here full time, but I don't have the training... and the pay is..." She shrugged. Her speech seemed to become clearer, among this healer. "Besides it's stressful. I don't know how Opal does it. I think she might live here, but I've never been too sure. She works day in, day out. Even stops by the moony ward to check they've not been neglected." It was obvious that the black haired woman had tremendous respect for Opal.

Wendy sipped her tea and found that the liquid didn't burn her throat. She took an unladylike gulp and sighed. One hand went up to rub her eyes.

Abe grinned tentatively. "She does seem like a hardened veteran. I wish I had her stamina." Pinky extended, she took another sip. The cup hadn't returned to the saucer before an idea struck her. "Why don't we do something for her? We could go to the.. er.. moony ward in her stead. Check it out, make sure it's ship-shape, et cetera."

Two birds with one stone. She'd get a chance to peer into the face of real madness, and she'd ingratiate herself to Opal, who seemed to be invested with some formidable aura despite not being a galdor. Yes.. yes.. this was getting to be a better and better idea the more she considered it. And Nurse Wendy was becoming less disagreeable--mayhap it was just the bifurcated workflow that had annoyed her. Abeline would be deferring to the human's expertise in this endeavor; backward from the norm, but what the hell. It would be interesting.

"What do you say?" She asked, trying to suppress the bizarre energy the thought gave her. It wouldn't do to be too enthusiastic--she'd heard tell her expressions at such times could look frightfully manic. Luckily, her general fatigue had a dampening effect. She succeeded, to the extent she appeared only slightly batty.

Wendy lifted an eyebrow suspiciously. "Er... you aren't going to do anything...weird, are you?" People usually never went to that side of the ward voluntarily. Wendy did it because she wanted to be like Opal, but she always went with a high amount of apprehension. The rumors were obviously more hyped up than the real thing, but sometimes they got to her.

"I mean...why would you-- I mean if you want to we can go but it's uh... well it's not a place people usually...voluntarily go..." The confusion was apparent in her voice.

The healer curled over her tea and smirked, "Fear not, I won't lay a finger on them." She stood, taking the beverage with her, cup balanced delicately on the saucer.

"Years ago," Abe said, leaning on the table, "I dabbled in Perceptive magic. Couldn't quite wrap my head around it, ironically enough." She took a thoughtful sip. "But I'm still fascinated by the mind. I can't help but think of it as a machine, like everything else, but one that's so intricate and ephemeral that it--woops!"

In Abeline's capable hands, the poor teacup didn't stand a chance. It slid, betrayed by the treacherous plate, and fell swiftly to its doom. With a piercing crash, it shattered into countless tiny bits.

She stared at the broken ceramic for a moment, then remarked, "Well, at least some things never change."

Not waiting for the human, she set the saucer on the table and hunkered down to collect her handiwork into a sad little pile.