#timeline: current

A middle-aged Asian woman with a slight curl to her hair, and the sleek black blazer and suit pant with a white collared shirt of a government worker departs from the conference room to meet with you.

"Wong, Ada," she introduces herself with an outstretched hand, "WHO Consultant. Pleasure to finally meet you, Professor."

These two weeks at Emory Campus and the CDC labs were becoming grueling. Between exhaustion from the BOW attack on the MARTA, continuously checking quarantine reports regarding The Clements Yacht, and the C virus samples obtained, Rebecca was drained.

"You look a little down, Doc." Not that there wasn't a myriad of reasons why she should be. From what he understood, CDC was breached, she was attacked at a Blue Umbrella facility, that bodyguard with her got infected- and treated. She's a high priority target for a specific whackjob. Coming here was meant to protect- or at least let her work in peace even if they didn't have state of the art R&D facilities like those places. She's staring out at the mountain range, wrapped up in a knitted throw. Quiet, contemplative- and hardly acknowledging him when he sets down a mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of him. "Want any marshmallows or anything like that?"

She'd been lost in thought, her gaze lingering aimlessly on the spiraling mountain tops and the snow that decorated them, when a voice had caught her attention. Looking over slowly, her fingers clutching the throw around her shoulders, she watched as a mug of hot chocolate was placed down. "I'll take some." Words accompanied by a weak smile, Rebecca makes her way over, taking a seat.

"Just stressed is all." It was hard not to be, with a target on her back once again. The majority of her life has been far from normal, a target placed on her back since she'd been finishing college, Umbrella one of the places that had scouted her. This isn't the first time someone has been after her work, and she knows it won't be the last, but that doesn't change how tired she is.

"I'm starting to think I'm not going to have a normal day in the labs again for a while." Rebecca starts, a weak laugh leaving her lips before she heaves a sigh. Her tattered shirt is clutched to her chest, maintaining some coverage in the private room Christine had led her to. She's still unsettled, being in Blue Umbrella's headquarters. Following their experiments on the C-Virus sample, which had at least gone better than Rebecca had anticipated, the two had been attacked by a remotely release Tyrant.

[text]: sureeee coworkers.

The smell of acetone is overpowering, but not as much as the last time she encountered it two years prior. One glimpse at Ahab from the safety of her own room is enough to confirm her suspicions. The younger woman doesn't appear anywhere near as sick as back in 2022, but it's clear C-Virus is rearing its head.

[txt: Becca] idk what yet

[txt: Becca] just know it can be hard around this time of year

[txt: Cass] I'd like that, honestly, I don't want to be alone tonight.

The sight of Carla, the handle of a blade protruding from her abdomen, and clearly panic-stricken, is enough to make her rush forward. It's fortunate that her typical bag containing equipment and medications is on her person, but even so, it certainly isn't stocked well enough for a surgical procedure. Not to mention, something such as this is certainly beyond her standard scope of practice. Regardless, Rebecca hastily makes her way to the other's side, her kit quickly flung open while her gaze rapidly looks the other over from head to toe, trying to make sense of what she has walked into.

"I'm going to help, but Ahab, I need you to try and slow your breathing." Rebecca starts keeping her voice level. Pressure dressing supplies and a sterile kit containing a scalpel pulled out. She needs to try and calm the other; the last thing they need is for her to jostle the knife in her panic. "Focus on me, I really don't want to give you a sedative unless I absolutely have to." Something like this isn't ethical to perform on another awake, but neither is sedating the other if it can be avoided, not with what she knows she'd endured.