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With the guards dispatched, Nora was perhaps tempted to take off into the night herself. She might be able to ascertain more information about what had occurred, as foolish as it would be for her to leave the safety of the Maratos. Her father would surely confine her for hysteria if she left her rooms that evening. However, as her finger brushed up against the brand, Nora recalled the offer of the night clerk.

"Yes, I would be most grateful if a surgeon could be sent for," Nora replied. Truthfully, she had no intention of taking any medicine to help her sleep. Her mind needed to remain sharp. But a surgeon would be able to examine the wound, and potentially, take courses of action to prevent it from becoming infected. The pretense of an escaped convict causing a bit of a fright would work excellently, and Nora deemed it would be for the best. How else would she explain needing the attention of a doctor, after all? She could not merely explain that she had been branded.

Taking another drag of her cigarette, Nora did recall her hunger, yet she wished to be no large inconvenience. She could continue to consume the meager supplies stored in her pantry if the hunger would not subside, she decided. And perhaps, from the confidential nature of her medically inclined inquiry, it would be best for her to take to her rooms at any rate.

"Please send the surgeon to my rooms once he has arrived," Nora requested. "And should there be any developments, please send word to me. I fear for a dear friend who has likely not returned to her home yet this evening."

---

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The actions of Sergeant Walsh (Retired) most definitely did not go unnoticed by the Lord Major. Though the man showed some nervousness around the sound of discharging firearms, he seemed to have no qualms holding one. For that matter, he seemed to have no problem manhandling some squealing ruffian out into the street, either. Reginald was beginning to like this guy.

When Peter mentioned something about Reginald using his "Status", the older man shot him a questioning look. He wasn't absolutely certain what his nephew meant by that, but if it meant walking up in a huff and acing in a manner that was haughty and important, then he could do just that.

Reginald stepped from the Rolls Royce and bid the driver wait there. Casually, he affixed his sabre to his belt and rested a hand upon it; the other hand withdrew his Webley revolver and marched up to within speaking distance of the Sergeant (Retired) and his reluctant companion. He noted also with minor disdain the reporter from earlier. Hopefully, the man had learned a little about discretion in the time between their last meeting and the present; but he was a member of their fledgling Fellowship, regardless. He would just endeavor to be less talkative around the maddeningly inquisitive person.

In a clear, cultured voice, Reginald addressed Walsh. "Capital, Sergeant. I've a patrol of Royal Military Personnel that shall be present within the next minute or two. Until then, would you do me the honor of providing details, and how they relate to the present state of alarm that Cairo finds itself in? First, our people. Are they well?"

---

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As she sat there with Aziza in the hotel room, her mind was racing. Recent events were very tiring and all she thought about now was going back to her room to sleep. However, she was very upset. She didn't know this woman well, but she felt strongly for her case. What type of country allowed this? A woman had a right to see her child. Mothers were part of the very foundation of society. Women, for that matter, were the strongest. They deal with so much. Once all was said and done, she would keep her promise of helping Aziza see her son. Surely there was something she could do. She did have some sway, even in this backwards country.

In the meantime, she sat and waited with her for the others to give the all clear. She didn't want to leave her alone, especially after meeting that horrible man.

---

---

It would seem that Haakon's try at reverse-psychology had been fruitless; Abbas' only information was that he indeed had information, though said information was or was about - except that they would all pay if they handed him over to the authorities - he plainly refused to elaborate about. Haakon sighed quietly to himself as he and Sgt. Walsh escorted the ruffian of an Arab outside the hotel...

...Straight into the arms of the two Keystones. Fantastic, just the men I wanted to be stared angerly by. Haakon's quiet sigh had quickly shifted into an expression of annoyance. It didn't fit in the plan he had for a hopefully cordial reintroduction with the British gentlemen. The sobering, city air of Cairo tugged him back to his senses again though, and his face was once again one of formal etiquette like a journalist wanted around these people. His gun was still aimed firmly at Abbas as they approached the Lord Mayor.

And of course he was determined to ignore - or at best refuse to adress him directly - Haakon. He wasn't surprised, more annoyed, perhaps a bit insulted, taking into account his liking of the British people and lifestyle. Then again, his career was perhaps not the one to go for then. Giving both Lord Mayor Keystone a polite nod, he persisted in keeping his mouth shut, his gun pointed at the murderer Abbas, and his eyes casually shifting from Abbas, Reginald Keystone, Sgt. Walsh and whomever might be standing around them. If there was one thing he had learned that night, it was that to always expect something more ridiculous to arrive just around the corner.

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Peter was glad that his uncle picked up on what he was asking of him. Though Peter held rank and status he was unknown in this city, his uncle was not. Gripping his cane, he stepped over to the small group as Sgt. Walsh was turning over Abbas to the local authorities. The man had been kicking and screaming and pleading the whole way down to the street but as soon as they got there he went oddly quiet. His eyes narrowing towards his captors as they turned him over.

Coming up to his Uncle Peter spotted Haakon and he merely nodded. Of course he was here. The man was beyond nosy, so if something was going down he had no doubt that the journalist would be poking and prodding for information whether it was his place to or not and most likely be rather off base with his assumptions.

Sgt. Walsh holstered his side arm once Abbas was in the custody of the people that would be taking Abbas back to prison before turning and addressing the Lord Major in all the required formality that a lower ranking officer would. Then he went on to explain where they had found Abbas and what had gone down as quickly and succinctly as possible. The authorities taking note of what was explained before Sgt. Walsh motioned for the Lord Major and the Lord Captain to follow him and Haakon back upstairs to the Ladies who were in Aziza's room currently.

Aziza really didn't know what else to say right then. The entire night had been a whirl wind. First the attack, then the inscription, now this. Looking up from her hands in her lap she glanced towards the door and hoped that the two would be back in short order. She was tired and worn from the day, her head still throbbing from the rock that had struck her in the club earlier that evening. The woman just wanted to curl up in bed and get some rest.

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Vera looked over towards Riley and stumbled slightly, falling back onto the couch with a rather comical thud. It wasn't the first time she had been cut off. Not that she ever drank much but it was more than obvious that she had a tolerance that was well below the average person. She had always been like that, for as far as she could remember. Thinking back to her first drink, she was only about twelve at the time but it was New Year's eve and she had been slipped a single glass of champagne. It didn't go well.

There was no recollection of what happened that night, even to this day, but there were plenty of tales. How exaggerated they were she couldn't say because well she couldn't remember. There was talk about singing, dancing, a fire poker, duel, and broken vase. All she could remember was the hang over the next morning. It was horrific thinking back to it even today. Sure she could tolerate it better these days, a whole additional glass, but she knew that hang over was going to come and before she started doing her interpretation of a Cancan, it was probably best to heed Miss Ridgeways' words.

Nodding, she drunkenly held her hand out. "yiof," she said, well that was what came out. She meant to say yes. Slurred speech had set in and it was beyond that. One of the waiters in the officers club looked at the two women before taking a deep breath and explaining that their rooms were ready. While the rooms were not adjoining, they were next to each other in the officers quarters and should do for the evening.

"Perhaps it would be a good time to move the Lady to her chambers," the man said quietly and Vera could only giggle a bit.

Looking at Lady Kingston the desk clerk nodded. "Yes, of course. Right away," he said as she asked for word if anything else happened and to ring for the physician. It was about that time that the bells stopped ringing and he let out a sigh of relief. "At least what ever was happening has ceased thus far. If I receive any word I will let you know," he said before going and ringing the physician. It was growing later in the night, so it would take a few for him to arrive but he assured her that it shouldn't be more than thirty minutes and that he would bring up some tea for her when said physician arrived.

---

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As Lauren helped Vera up, she took Vera's arms over her shoulder to keep the woman steady when Vera flopped back onto the couch Lauren nearly fell down with her. Lauren was used to seeing people getting drunk, cutting them off and escorting them out of the bar though she had never seen someone get drunk after just two drinks. Though she couldn't help but think it was a tad bit funny, but Lauren wouldn't make fun of her for it, she did witness a murder tonight. "Lets get ya to bed." Lauren said softly as she looked at one of the waiters in the club and gave him a soft smile and nod. "Thank you." Lauren said as she followed behind the waiter until they reached the officer's quarters.

Lauren thanked the man once more as she entered Vera's room for the evening and moved her over towards the bed helping the woman down onto the bed. Lauren then started to think of her father remembering the various times she had to lead her drunken father after some drinking contest to his room. She propped Vera's legs onto the bed and went to take off the woman's shoes setting them down on the floor, sighing slightly as Lauren ran a hand through her hair looking down at the drunken Lady for a moment.

Lauren went over and sat down on a nearby chair even though her room was just next door, she just wanted to make sure that Vera wasn't disturbed and she wanted to let Peter know what happened whenever he did get back. Lauren still however was wondering about Aziza and Harry if they were still okay.

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However, before Nora could even vacate the lobby of the building and return to her rooms, the bells ceased to toll. She still did not know exactly whom they had tolled for--an escaped convict was the only description she had received. It did bring a small comfort to her, knowing that if the Lady Munn had not yet returned to her own abode that evening, there would not be a prisoner on the streets to accost her.

Nodding her thanks at the clerk, Nora ascended to her room, smiling softly as she spotted Spot napping in a corner. Everything appeared to have returned to a certain state of normalcy, even with her finger bringing her great pain and distress. The surgeon would be able to make something of it, she felt certain. While the brand itself may pose a mystery, she would at least be spared from worries of infection. Though she certainly would not explain too much as to its origins--as honest as Nora was, she was not daft. If she claimed it to have appeared as if by magic, she would most certainly be thrown into an asylum for lunacy. No, better to refuse questions, and accept whatever medical treatment was provided.

In the morning, she had her appointment with the Lady Munn. Rest would be required for her to be fit and ready. Lounging on the sofa, Nora selected her novel from earlier for perusal, indulging in the world of fiction and make-believe. As much as she detested the diversion from reality, she could not help but have a certain fondness for the dime novel. And the physician would arrive at her quarters before the hour was up--it was perhaps best for her to occupy her mind with some light amusements.

---

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The whole Let-us-ignore-the-journalist-that-most-likely-knows-a-bit-more-than-the-Sergeant-act was slowly, but surely starting to get on Haakon's nerves. It was especially Peter Keystone's obvious look that made Haakon look in another direction. The feeling was mutual, however, as Haakon didn't trust Peter a whole lot more than he presumably trusted himself, the loose ends were just too many for that to happen.

---

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She waited with the woman for an update. The man was put away, which was good. However, she wondered if Aziza should spend the night alone with another man. Even of Sgt. Walsh was on the up and up and was a gentleman by all accounts, it didn't really matter if she was shaken. And she didn't trust Peter as far as she could throw him, so that was off the table. But she left it up to her.

"I hope we are updated on the situation soon, I am sure this has all been very tiring for all involved and we should sleep soon before tomorrow's events. I won't leave if you don't want me to, though."

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Reginald gave the standard back and forth banter associated with the holding and transferring of a ne'er-do-well from private hands over to the local authority. The Empire technically held sway concerning the trade and protection of Egypt, and as such the Royal Military trained Cairo's law enforcement personnel, openly working in tandem them after the fact. The Lord Major's presence made it all a tad more official. Not that the situation wouldn't have gone similarly otherwise, but the clout provided by someone of Reginald's stature made the questioning lighter, if a tad more prone to unneeded ceremony. Sergeant Walsh, while seemingly a decent fellow, was technically a "civilian with benefits".

He tucked away his pistol but did not snap the holster shut, preferring to have access to the device quickly were the next odd yet inevitable thing to occur within the next moments.

As it turned out, the next odd thing to occur was marching up the thoroughfare with a patrol of British soldiers in tow. "DOUBLETIME! ...hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut... Company halt! Right face! Ready for orders, Lord MAJOR!"

"Bloody hell, Corporal, you're scaring the straights!" He facepalmed, truly embarrassed for himself and the men under his command. Just... at ease, and hold for orders, man!" The Lord Major was very curious in that instant as to who promoted this man. The thought occurred to him, to his chagrin, that it was probably him. Damned whisky.

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As he handed the criminal over to the authorities and explained his case to the Lord-Major, Harry let out a soft sigh as he felt a sensation running through him. For a time he had been somewhat lost, driven by something he couldn't explain, an 'out-of-body experience' of sorts. As the comfort began to settle back in again, he reached up and gently tucked his own sidearm away in his jacket, letting his fingers linger and brush over the cool metal for a moment before he closed his jacket again letting his hands shift down to his sides, tucking them idly into his pockets.

Hearing the sounds of the approaching troops, the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end for a moment, the sounds of the marching and the shouting of orders still all too familiar in his mind as he watched the Corporal and his troops move up, much to the Lord-Major's dismay, evidently. He couldn't help but smirk somewhat at the Lord-Major's embarrassment, the situation reminded him of some of the better parts of his service, of the joys and simple pleasures of military life, away from the harshness of battle, a reality he wasn't sure that the corporal of many of his troupe would have even seen. As he looked over them, the retired soldier could not even help himself as he slipped, just for a moment, back into his old stature.

"You have threads coming off your epaulettes, corporal." He commented in an easily recognisable, firm, non-commissioned officer's tone. Harry had spent a great many months as a drill sergeant during and just after the war, it was something one did not kick even in civilian life, so long after the war. However, he caught himself before he went into too much more, not wishing to embarrass the corporal or any of the other troops in front of the Lord-Major or the Lord-Captain for that matter. Instead, he shifted his gaze back toward the stairs. "If you'll pardon me, Lord-Major, sir, I should ensure my charge is still well in hand." He commented politely, giving the man a nod, and forcing himself not to salute as he made his way to the stairs, beginning to head back up to Aziza's room.

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Abbas fought the change over and being taken away, shouting various what one could assume were insults in a language none of them understood but by the way his face looked he wasn't happy and was enraged. It lead to a wonderful moment of one of the local police knocking him out before tossing him in the back of a wagon. They didn't want to hear it anymore than anyone else did. Sure, it was probably an abuse of force but in this day and age, he got what he deserved. The body of the man that had been killed was being carried out with a table cloth over it and taken away as well.

The local authorities thanked both Sgt Walsh and Haakon for bringing him to them and assured the two men that they would find out what they could. Another round of thanks came to the Lord Major for bringing the "troops" to keep things calm but they assured him that now that they had the man in custody it wouldn't be needed much longer.

Peter narrowed his eyes towards Abbas as he was carted off before looking over towards his uncle. "Seems the sergeant is going back to look after Miss Tarek, I dare say that things are calm here. Shall we invite them back to the barracks for the evening? If anything we should check with your friend personally, she is expecting Miss Ridgeway back and she is staying with Vera within the safety of the walls," he said towards his uncle.

He motioned for him to come with him and invited him up if he would like. Then he turned and leaned on his cane, walking through the crowd and after Sgt. Walsh since he didn't know where the women were right then. Aziza looked over at Josephine and nodded. "Yes, I couldn't agree more. I dislike not knowing what is going on with that... how do you Americans say? Ass hat?" she said before walking over to the porch and stepping out into the night for a little bit of fresh air.

"Thank you, but hopefully it won't be needed. Sgt. Walsh and Lauren are supposed to be staying here this evening with me but after everything that has happened I am not sure even here is a safe place," she said as she stood outside and looked out over the night skyline that was Cairo.

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Vera was a mess to get up the stairs. It wasn't that she was fighting with Lauren to get into her bed. It was that she was clumsy sober and well drunk, she couldn't hit the floor if she fell. She was this way and that. It wasn't until her head hit the pillow that she finally just dropped out and went to sleep, sprawled there like a rag doll that had been tossed aside by a child.

After a few minutes there was a knock at the door. On the other side stood a steward carrying a tray which had on it a fresh pitcher of water and a bottle of aspirin. "For the Lady... I feel she should need it come waking up," he said. There was also an array of light finger foods and juices on the tray. "In case you are still hungry miss, and if she can keep anything down when she awakens," he added. If he was allowed he would put the tray down on a table in the room before leaving.

It didn't take too long for the surgeon to show up. A knock at Lady Kingstons door echoed through the hallway. He stood there, a shorter old man with large glasses and a shortly trimmed beard. He wore a suit with large leather elbow patches and carried his medical bag in one hand while resting his walking cane over his other arm. He was a bit blurry eyed himself, looking as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep rather suddenly, his suit slightly disheveled as if it had been put on rather quickly part of the shirt remained untucked and the tail of it was hanging from beneath his vest.

"Lady Kingston? Dr. Moran, I was told you couldn't sleep this evening? Poor child, a woman shouldn't worry herself with the tolling of the bells like this," he said in a rather pandering tone.

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Nora fought the urge to shut the door in the physician's face. Despite having had countless of doctors attend to her in her early childhood, each attempting to stop the illness from claiming her life, Nora found nothing of merit in Dr. Moran's attitude. The patronizing treatment of women, the perpetuation of norms--it only served to further enforce Nora's notion that she and this world did not belong together. There were days when she wondered if it might be more apt to disappear, to take a new name and a new station, simply to rid herself of the norms and formalities.

"Am I a woman or a child?" Nora asked, frowning ever so slightly. Her voice was soft and quiet as always, and with the slight pain of the burn in mind, she allowed Dr. Moran to enter her rooms. In one breath, he had already begun to treat her as an infant, but she must make do with it. She needed the medical knowledge of the man. "Now, I do expect you to uphold my privacy in this matter. Should the ton begin to speak of this matter, I can assure you that my father and my brothers shall do all they can to ensure you never practice medicine again."

She paused for a moment, to allow those words to wash over Dr. Moran. As much as she found little merit in gender roles, she assumed that the doctor would be more persuaded by the threat of her brothers and father intervening in his personal affairs, than Nora herself. Furthermore, she saw little point in correcting him to not use the courtesy title--it was a courtesy, one that she attempted to decline whenever she could. But society was not so easily persuaded.

"Very well, I now must be quite frank. I did not call you here to deal with a matter of insomnia," Nora explained, raising her branded finger into the light. "I believe I am in need of medical assistance with regard to this small misfortune."

---

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As Lauren sat in the chair she looked over at Lady Vera in her drunken sleep, she sighed softly and ran a hand through her hair and leaned back slightly. Today had been a pretty weird and interesting night, she wasn't going to leave Vera's side at least until Peter had come back to see her. Then there was a knock on the door and she stood up making her way over towards the door, seeing a young steward on the other side holding a tray with water, some aspirin as well as a little bit of food. "Please come in." Lauren said with a smile as she opened the door a little bit more letting the man into the room. When he set the food down Lauren gave him a friendly smile and nod, as she watched him leave the room. "Thank you." Lauren said.

Lauren grabbed one of the glasses and poured herself a glass of water, as well as one for Vera if she woke up sooner then later. But seeing how wasted the Lady was she was most likely going to be out until the next morning. Lauren grabbed a cracker that was on the tray and started to take a bite out of it letting out a soft sigh, she got up and gently tucked Vera under the covers. Reminding her of how many times she had taken care of either her drunken father or husband if he whenever they did drink way to much.

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Haakon tried his best to swallow the chuckling that was nearly ventilating out of his mouth at the sight beholding them. The approaching squadron - platoon, regiment, company, Haakon never quite learned the difference, or bothered to learn it - was a respective sight in itself, but the reaction from both Lord Major Keystone and Mr. Walsh to what clearly was not supposed to happen, now that was a pleasent sight after an already far-too long day.

"Endelig, noen som faktisk viser litt takknemlighet i denne forbrente byen..." Haakon said to himself under his breath, before giving a smile and thanked the man in charge of Abbas' arrest for taking him away. Now Haakon wasn't in favour of what the free press called 'police brutality', but when that wretched Abbas was knocked unconscious, he couldn't help but feel a tad more relieved. At least now it was less likely they would see him, at least during that night. Hopefully, for he still had that nagging feeling something was not right. The way that Peter Keystone spoke, however, still annoyed him deeply. That was for certain. Spoke of him, or more precise, spoke to everyone but him. Oh well, no need in taking up space around him then.

Giving a polite nod to the two Keystones, like just before the whole military-drill-mess-up had taken place, Haakon turned around and gave a quick jog to catch up to Mr. Walsh. Since he clearly wasn't spoken to, or about, he departed the Keystone-family before they presumably were to follow. And either way, Haakon was jogging, pushing his way through the presumed crowd of people before he caught up to Mr. Walsh at the foot of the stairs. "Mr...Sergeant Walsh, I mean. I didn't have the time, but thank you in assisting in...well, you know, all that just happened. Who knows what that man might have done if we didn't get him first. I just hope Miss Tarek is feeling better now."

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Walsh's comments did not go unnoticed by the overly exuberant Corporal. He strove to maintain his steely gaze forward, unmoving, toward the Lord Major, but his resolve was wavering by the announcement that he had a loose thread on his epaulette. A single bead of sweat formed upon his forehead, and his visage became nervous. Even grave. The Corporal's eyes widened with alarm at the mere thought that his uniform was compromised by an oversight and not a grievous wound suffered on behalf of his Empire. But he would not break, oh no. He would not give in and turn his head to check while in ranks, in front of someone as decorated as the Lord Major. But the knowledge that something could be less than flawless unnerved him utterly.

"Lord MAJOR! The Corporal has failed Your Majorness, his post, and the British Empire, allowing himself to be caught in public in an un-uniformed condition! The Corporal begs for your forgiveness, sir! As soon as we return, The Corporal will be placing himself on immediate potato skinning duty! For the present, The Corporal requests permission to administer immediate corporal punishment on the Corporal, Lord MAJOR!"

He was as nonsensical as he was deafening. Reginald had no idea how to respond in any way that was reasonable, and relegated himself to shaking his head and moving slowly away. The first few steps he took without turning around, wanting to put a little distance between himself and the sad, loud man before showing his back in his general direction. The Corporal was given his orders, and if nothing else, Reginald could rest assured that the mirror polish non-com would carry them out. To the letter.

"Ah, Sergeant Walsh, old boy..." he called after the man, jogging up behind him (and away from his troops in place), "I was headed that way myself. This matter concerns you as well. If you have no objections, I should wish to accompany you and your... associate... to recover our people." Despite referring to Harry as Sergeant, the younger man was no longer in active service. As such, Reginald had no authority to order him to do anything. Not that he had any misgivings about the situation whatsoever; it was actually nice speaking to people as people and not as military assets.

Except for the Corporal. That man had issues.

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Josephine couldn't help but smile at the woman's use of the word asshat. "Yes, I believe that is an appropriate word for that man. I could think of a few more words, but we don't have all day, do we darling?" She watched as Aziza went to her window to look at the country. The view was beautiful, to be sure. She wondered what was going on with everyone. She hated sitting idly by while the world moved on around her, but she also felt she shouldn't just leave this poor woman alone, at least until her "friends" came back for her.

So she remained seated. She could really use a smoke. Or some more alcohol.

---

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Aziza looked over to Josephine and stepped back into the room from the balcony. "True but I could always use some new and colorful phrases to describe the less than desirable," she said as she stepped over to the small bar in the room and poured herself and Josephine a drink. Granted she didn't know if the woman would want one but Aziza was an entertainer and hostess where she worked, plus old customs were hard to break.

"I hope this is alright," she said as she set down a simple glass of sweet wine on the coffee table in front of Josephine before retrieving her own and taking a long sip of it. She let out a semi-relaxing sigh from her lips before she heard foot steps coming up the stairs. Walking over to the door she looked through the peep hole to see Sgt Walsh and others coming up the stairs.

"They're back," she said in a thankful voice as she unlocked the door and opened it for them, stepping to the side. Seeing the LORD MAJOR! and his nephew in the group caused her to raise a brow. "Lord Major Keystone, I was not expecting to see you again this evening, is everything alright?" she asked concerned as she stood there, her eyes darting between the four men and then back over to Josephine.

Peter kept quiet, feeling it was best for those that knew Aziza and Josephine to do the explaining. He was merely there as support at this point because of Vera and Miss Ridgeway. Stepping inside he glanced around the room and then back over towards the others.

---

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Dr. Moran scoffed as he set his medical bag down. "I assure you woman, that discretion is one of my top priorities. You needn't worry about the ton learning you were having trouble sleeping. Such issues are common among your gender," he said as he pulled out a bottle filled with a greyish powder and turned around.

As she held up her hand though he stopped and cocked an overly bushy brow. The thing arching like a caterpillar trying to avoid being eaten by a bird. Adjusting his glasses he stepped forward and took a closer look. "Well, just what have you gotten yourself into Lady Kingston?" he asked as he took her hand gently in his own and started to examine it. The man was as patriarchal as they came but the upside of this was that he was extremely gentle with women and thus his touch was at least kind and did not lend to more pain.

"Who long ago did this occur? And what is the pain level currently?" he asked as he slowly turned her hand over in his to see the inner side of the burn.

The young steward left with a nod and shut the door quietly behind him, things in the compound seemed to be calming down thankfully now that they bell had stopped tolling. It was either because of that or because a certain loud mouth was off bothering the LORD MAJOR! - Either way, there was a welcome calm to the place. Vera slept soundly, out like a light. Her face pressed haphazardly into her pillow and her breath could be heard slow and deep. Thankfully she wasn't the snoring type. Hopefully it would remain peaceful and she could sleep off the majority of the nights drinking.

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She could barely prevent herself from speaking her mind, from declaring quite simply just as such issues as arrogance and inflated feelings of superiority are common among yours. Yet had her anger been quite so easily aroused by a man of medicine, she would not have survived her childhood without erupting into constant rage, anger, and apathy. She instead focused her mind on the grey powder, wondering which medicine or the other he would attempt to treat her with. There had been a time when she took as many as five different powders in a single day, all to avoid the nasty and messy business of expiring before reaching adulthood.

She suppressed a laugh at his ridiculous eyebrow, finding that it was easier to focus on it than his piggish sensibilities. As he finally began to take her seriously, attending to the matter at hand, Nora felt a slight sense of relief. Not at receiving medical attention, no--but no longer having to listen to drivel about how women were prone to nightmares and needed assistance to sleep. "Do not fret, Dr. Moran. I can assure you, it is nothing too serious--why, I am only a woman, of course." Her tone was steady and calm, even though her words were laced with sarcasm.

"Perhaps a few hours have passed since this unfortunate event," Nora added, before mulling over the pain level. It was not quite so bad as it had been earlier, yet it still ached. It was quite good that the doctor used a gentle touch, otherwise, she may have been forced to hold back tears. "On a measure of one to ten, perhaps a four at most," Nora explained. "I've experienced worser pains."

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Lauren looked over at Lady Munn sleeping peacefully she smiled softly for a moment and looked around finding a nearby trash can, she got up and grabbed it setting it down at the side of the bed. Knowing that she would most likely have a killer hangover the next day, and be nauseous knowing what it felt like waking up with a hangover. Lauren gently brushed some hair out of her face before heading over towards the window overlooking the rest of the barracks and the city of Cairo in the distance. She noticed that the alarms had now stopped, which she assumed that the convict had now been captured by the authorities now.

She walked over back to the little desk that was there and sat down taking another drink from the water she sighed slightly and closed her eyes. It had been a pretty long day and she also hadn't been sleeping well for the last several nights, she shook her head trying to stay awake just to make sure that Vera had everything that she needed. Seems that Vera would be sleeping pretty soundly until morning, Lauren slipped off her shoes and kicked them to the side to get a little bit more comfortable.

Her mind started to wonder somewhere else and started to think of her daughter back home with her mother and husband, she missed her family a lot it had been awhile since she last saw them all. And Lauren wished that she could go back to the States and see them once more, Lauren ran a hand through her hair for a moment letting out a slight yawn occasionally looking over at Vera while she slept.