<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/gzkeEiS.png)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Medb Mag Uidhir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2044223)<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Asylum - upper floor<br/><strong>Wearing: </strong>A loose fitting dark cloth dress, some foliage, a pair of heavy work boots and a backpack full of books and equipment<br/><strong>Content: </strong>Looking at red things<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Aloisa, Danae<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Willing a new flame into her hand, the raven-haired woman let out an audible "Tch!" as the red woman disappeared back into her tub, leaving naught behind but traces of her corporeal form. Medb followed the trail while Aloisa took the initiative to relight the lantern. With her own flame in hand and the other empty, she tried her best to ensure the taps were tightly sealed, not wanting the creature to sneak up behind them if its cowardice abated. "We also know that it is subject to the animal instinct of fear, and in terms of the fight or flight instinct when provoked it is thankfully erring towards the latter."<br/><br/>The inert, red jelly that Medb wanted to collect for later study lay there for the taking but she doubted that lifting it by hand or keeping the viscous fluid sealed in cloth would do any good and would simply make her pockets red and moist. What she wouldn't give for a test tube and a cork at this moment.<br/><br/>"Speaking of axes," she mused, it might not do any harm to get better armed now that we are aware that the orderlies will likely be hostile if the red woman were to spread warning ahead of us. At the very least gaining something sturdier to cover Ms Vine-Lott's healing wounds would be a sound decision lest they open up and undo any good and... Oh! I almost forgot to ask, did any of you sustain any harm in the scuffle? Do you need any medical attention?"<br/><br/>Walking back to the centre of the room, she searched the table for anything the orderlies may have been drinking from, a flask, a teacup, anything at all she could use to take hold of that sanguine jelly, before leaning down beside one of their fallen bodies, noting the staining of the wood as their own red, moist fluids began to leak. Maybe one of their shoes would make a good container temporarily? Ever so softly she ran the tips of her fingers across the porcelain mask, "Perhaps it would also do no harm to hide ourselves in their ranks? I wonder how easy it is for them to tell the difference between an orderly and a patient who has gotten into the laundry room considering the identically hidden features? It may afford anonymity until we can locate a barrel of oil."<br/>