[right][h3][b][i][color=7d6c00]Dr. Swamp[/color][/i][/b][/h3][color=7d6c00]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color]
[color=7d6c00][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Shadowell Manor: Attic (Laboratory) 
[color=7d6c00][i][b]Skills:[/b][/i][/color] Intelligence
[color=7d6c00][i][b]Hit Points:[/b][/i][/color] 2
[color=7d6c00]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]

	In that moment, several things happened in the room without the input or influence of the good Doctor. He regarded it objectively, with crossed arms and with an inquisitive look about his face. The again, he always did seem to have an inquisitive look in one form of another. It could be nothing. His big surprise of the evening (aside from getting shot) was seeing Amaranthine with her head in a bucket making the most interesting visceral noises. Really, it was magnificent the way her internals worked in full concert with one another, only to have the example of gastrointestinal gear-shifting waylaid by retching. But even in doing so, she demonstrated a superior mastery of her vocals. Some people couldn't pull it off quite as well as others. Swawmp carefully thanked the man for carrying his offer to the Lady of the Manor, and looked back to his impromptu lab assistant.

	As help was sent for by the houseman, Quinton, Swamp found himself alone with the Chanteuse. It would not do for her to be in poor condition, not one bit. Perhaps, in his bag of tricks and esoteric ramblings, Swamp might have something more immediate to help out the young songbird in her hour of need. Naturally he would have to find out specifics of her ailment beforehand. Limping over to the woman, Swamp leaned over just a tad and spoke in the softer tone, [color=7d6c00]"Ah, Amaranthine? If you would, perhaps I might be able to do something for you?"[/color] He leaned heavily upon his cane. The options at his disposal in the lab might not be the best ever, but the Doctor still might be able to find something to help out until Quinton returned.