Aoife sighed, heavy and long.

As much as she hated this—and she did hate it—it was...well, it was an occupational hazard now. She was an operator at Rhodes Island; did she really think that she'd be able to avoid talking to Victorians at all, even when working on a diverse landship like Rhodes? It wasn't as though she knew everyone on the ship, after all. as far as she knew, she interacted with tens of Victorians every day. [i][color=Paleturquoise]Idiot,[/Color][/i] She admonished herself, [i][color=Paleturquoise]get it together. You're making a fool of yourself.[/Color][/i] It wasn't like she had anywhere else to go if Rhodes Island fell through, after all. If this level of oripathy went untreated, she be dead before the end of the week, the month if she was really lucky. 

So she did her best to take a long, calming breath, only to this time be rudely interrupted by a sudden stabbing pain from her chest that drew a sharp gasp from her and lingered for several seconds afterwards, setting her teeth grinding against each other. Her words grew grating, and maybe a bit harsher than she would have liked: "[color=Paleturquoise]Then we're wasting time here.[/Color]" 

By the time she bit the last word through to a close, she'd already turned and was heading towards customs, trying to breathe as little and as lightly as she could, using all of her self control to stop from doubling over as the knifelike sensation slowly, [i]slowly[/i] began to abate and her jaws gradually unlocked themselves. She knew that it hadn't been long, but she still found herself wondering just how long it [i]had[/i] been, and how long it would be until she could go back to Polka. It was too hot out, everything hurt, and she needed to talk to [i]Victorians[/i]. Even though it was barely lunchtime, she was ready for this day to be [i]over[/i].

She had a sinking feeling it wouldn't be over any time soon.