Ahhhhh, sweet air conditioning...

Aoife's eyes were at half-mast, still basking in the afterglow of Polka's music. The pain had largely retreated and would be reduced for some time yet. She felt so much more like herself; breathing deeply no longer send a knife of pain to her lungs, and she could stretch her arms above her head without feeling like they were tearing or pulling themselves out of their sockets. So she was sitting in the same chair she'd been in before, though [i]much[/i] more comfortably, when Earthspirit arrived.

As a person, she wasn't the most open with her emotions, for a number of reasons. So though the fact that they'd been unable to find Nur rankled at her to a surprising degree, her face was still largely expressionless. Perhaps a little bit more solemn than usual. The only one in the clinic that she tended to share her emotions with to more than the sparsest degree was Polka. And would you look at that: Earthspirit wasn't Polka. So the fact that her brows began to furrow in distant confusion and later anger at the entire field of [i]Sargonology[/i] was both indicative of the intensity of her emotions and, to those at all acquainted with her, rather surprising. For a few moments, the clinic was washed with silence, and her face grew only stormier, until...

"[color=paleturquoise]So, if I am to understand correctly,[/color]" She spoke suddenly, shattering that tenuous quiet, "[color=paleturquoise]the Victorians are here to plunder from the people and culture here, for the sake of finding a weapon that may exist, but might just be a story?[/color]" She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat, and for the next few words, her voice [i]dripped[/i] with scorn. "[color=paleturquoise][i]What a surprise.[/i] It makes more sense now why Aisha was so upset with him now, at least.[/color]" She took a long breath—thankful for her renewed ability to, without causing herself pain—before muttering under her breath: "[color=paleturquoise]If she hadn't bashed him then [i]I[/i] might've.[/color]"