[ Backdated to yesterday, noonish. ]

[wise_ass]

Bert walks out of the sickbay with a small crowd, all of them having been nudged out by the doctors who needed time, space and a piece of silence for their examinations.

In the small waiting area just outside it, the remaining residents of the Proserpina are in varying states of bewilderment, panic and exhaustion. The people they've lost-- all of them, apparently, boasting some kind of magic ability, at least to Bert's limited understanding-- had been all been tracked down and brought into the sickbay; those left standing had done whatever they could to help John, Lauren, and Sherlock hook the patients up to the machines that might be able to save them.

And there's the matter of the clock to contend with, which hasn't disappeared, but just run down to zero.

"Is everyone all right?" he asks of the room at large, breaking up the alternating silence and whispered conversations. Of course they're not all right, but Bert can't stand to worry by himself in silence.

Comments

[highfunctioning]

"Obviously. Which is precisely why we should put the brainpower where it's needed most."

He was far too impatient to wait for John and Lauren to clear anyone else for him to 'monkey about with' as John so eloquently put it, so he grabbed the tray he'd been working on and headed for the lab, calling over his shoulder.

"Start with Zoe in twenty minutes, John." I'll be back.

[sharpshooting]

"I'll apologize, yet again, for him," John said, digging the heel of his hand into his eye, blowing out a weary breath through his nose. "I wish I could say he'll warm up to you, but." He shrugged. "The bitch of it is, he's usually right. I'll set a timer for twenty minutes. It doesn't seem like there's much more we can do now but keep them stable."