"I will bother, though I'm not sure why I do at this point."
The slender form of Professor Kovalenko melted out of the shadow of the wardrobe. Her straight hair, neatly buttoned coat, and impassive expression forming an almost complete antithesis of her counterpart.
"We've got an operation to run here Byrne. You need to keep this under control before someone ends up getting hurt."
She reached into the draw on the one side of the room, withdrew a medicine bottle, and dropped it down beside Maeve. The pills in the bottle rattled.
"I don't need to remind you what we've got to worry abou-"
She paused. Oren's gaze flicked over to the door.
Drawn on top of the wood panelling was an intricate symbol of wavy lines, within a circle, punctuated with a line and a smaller circle issuing from it... or rather it would be had a large swipe not been erased, like it had been wiped with a cloth.
Professor K sighed through her teeth and took some brisk steps up to the door. Her coat was unbuttoned, sleeve drawn up, and an obsidian athame drawn from its sheath at her hip, and within moments Oren was painting her blood over the gaps in the ward.
A silence ward.
The ward that was meant for the express purpose of preventing their private conversations being audible to anyone outside in the corridor who happened to listen.
"We're really going to have to do something about the ward problem."
The slender form of Professor Kovalenko melted out of the shadow of the wardrobe. Her straight hair, neatly buttoned coat, and impassive expression forming an almost complete antithesis of her counterpart.
"We've got an operation to run here Byrne. You need to keep this under control before someone ends up getting hurt."
She reached into the draw on the one side of the room, withdrew a medicine bottle, and dropped it down beside Maeve. The pills in the bottle rattled.
"I don't need to remind you what we've got to worry abou-"
She paused. Oren's gaze flicked over to the door.
Drawn on top of the wood panelling was an intricate symbol of wavy lines, within a circle, punctuated with a line and a smaller circle issuing from it... or rather it would be had a large swipe not been erased, like it had been wiped with a cloth.
Professor K sighed through her teeth and took some brisk steps up to the door. Her coat was unbuttoned, sleeve drawn up, and an obsidian athame drawn from its sheath at her hip, and within moments Oren was painting her blood over the gaps in the ward.
A silence ward.
The ward that was meant for the express purpose of preventing their private conversations being audible to anyone outside in the corridor who happened to listen.
"We're really going to have to do something about the ward problem."