[ Audio ]

[ Steph's voice is tired and a touch less cheery than usual. Yours would be too if you woke up to find your fiance in a coma. It's been a stressful morning. ]

Kon's fallen into a coma. I've got him here in our room and I'm keeping him here, since he won't need any kind of medical treatment anyway. [ He doesn't have to eat, so there's a plus. ]

If you need anything from him that I might be able to get for you, let me know.

[ Private to Cassel ]

That goes doubly for you. You need anything, anything at all, just ask.

[ Video ]

[ Steph sits at her desk, as usual when she makes video posts. She's been affected by the flood, but she doesn't look particularly different. She's always been very good at hiding her scars, and although her clothes cover most of them she has makeup over one slash across her cheek. Dodged a bullet - literally. ]

You know what I don't understand? I mean, it's probably a human nature thing - sorry, sentient being nature. Whenever there's a flood we all climb on top of each other trying to figure out what it is. But either someone's affected and they know it and they can tell us flat out, or they don't know it and there's no way to figure out what's different until after. So, if there's no obvious danger, why bother? Now don't get me wrong, I'm the curious cat incarnate, it just seems kinda silly in the grand scheme of things, doesn't it?

[ She shrugs. Food for thought. Then she turns the video to private. ]

[ Private to Doyle ]

How goes it, inmate mine? Still in your own skin? [ Doyle's always been a bit dour, but Steph counters it with high spirits, good humor and a stern tone, even when he does something wrong. It seems to work better for her than sinking to his level of spookiness. ]

[ Private to Jon ]

Hey lover, I haven't seen you all day. What have you been up to?

[ Steph begins the video feed like she always does it, with the camera displaying her face and a few cute doodles in the background. But once she starts talking she just keeps going and the stream of words doesn’t seem to stop. Her hands move in time to the words but not with any logic, like she’s only half-feeling the effect of her words and it’s just a token expressive effort. ]

I hear people arguing over who’s a good guy and who’s a bad guy and who deserves to be a warden and who doesn’t and all it does is remind me how much I really hate this place. Because it doesn’t matter, what’s right and wrong doesn’t matter and we can’t do anything about it. Some people are wardens and some people are inmates and everybody wants some definitive reason but there just isn’t one. I feel like a Roman doctor, trying to kill bacteria that don’t even have names yet and just covering everyone in leeches.

[ A pause. A very brief pause, in which she considers that last statement. And then it begins again. ]

Did the Romans cover people in leeches? I don’t remember. It’s been a while since I’ve had a history class. And that’s another thing I hate, I used to be okay with taking a vacation and turning in the homework that’s been sitting in my desk for months but now I’m too scared to. People leave and they don’t come back, or they come back different, or someone else comes back instead and you lose everything because you just wanted to get a grade on your psych paper already.

So it’s all or nothing, and I’m stuck here because I care too much to just up and leave even though the system is stupid and some of you are really awful and people I care about keep getting hurt.

[ A sigh, and she ends on a bitter note: ]

Whoever said it first was right. I must be crazy.