<div class="floatright">(http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20111229054129/godannar/images/0/05/Kiriko_Aoi.jpg)</div><br/>Staring intently through thankfully unbroken corrective lenses, the middle-aged though striking woman stared over her equipment. Half of the syringes were broken; scalpels checked out; various chemicals if both solid and liquid SOMEHOW remained within intact containers; several other plastics were in decent shape. A brief sigh of relief as she brushed a lock of her dyed pink hair aside, not the most professional of appearances but who is going to tell their doctor she can't have pink hair? Continuing the inventory diagnostic was less pleasant.  Several graduates were shattered; one of the balances was missing pieces; there were only two good mortars and no pestles.  The one saving grace about the phamacy front was that the counting trays and spatulas survived.<br/><br/>A frown crossed the doctor's face as she considered the situation of the supplies.  The larger, tougher tools had survived, but measuring solids and liquids for field compounding was entirely out of the question. She had the tools needed for surgeries, but unless a leather-strap would cut it, there wasn't a good supply of anesthetic to last for a prolonged period. Still, the pre-fab medicines were at least alright, if in unfortunate disarray. Displeased with the situation, but lacking an immediate means to improve it, she turned to the rest of the 'crew'.<strong>"Is anyone hurt?"</strong>