#readytocharge

Low coughing could be heard echoing through the almost eerily silent halls; pausing for barely a moment before starting up again. Oh if there was one thing Oliva hated more than some of the men who managed to go through wave after wave after wave of her armies, it had to either be allergy season or getting sick in general. She was just far too important with more important things to do than getting sick, but alas there the girl was, wrapped up in a blanket as she padded through the halls to go and get some water before she succumb to fatigue that oft came with illness.

Whether or not he was being sarcastic, she couldn’t tell, but she wouldn’t have doubted it if he was. They were on opposing sides after all, and she did look pretty terrible; Face a pale pink from fever gained earlier that morning mixed with the rush of battle. A hand pressed itself over a bloody wound cut into her gut along with a constellation of bullet wounds, and a cough that wracked her body. She had lost her hat and headset somewhere along the way to where she leaned back against a wall, having called for her team’s medic ‘til she had gone hoarse from trying. (Not like she had much of a voice to begin with that day, but she’d be damned if she didn’t at least try calling for the doctor)