Petra's teal gaze seemed to follow Charles with an unblinking intent. Surely Sebastian wouldn't mind giving her him. That gentle, curious query, shot down from the sky. Even Dorian had shot her a withering look that sent her peculiar gaze downward. Sebastian's firm words caused her to lower her gaze toward the floor. A heavy sigh escaped her then, her hands still nestled around her chicken illusion, her face still glistening from fresh tears that may have for now halted, despite threatening to spill once more. She rose a single hand to wipe away what remained. How she hated this very moment. It was then that the promise of blood... being stirred into tea seemed to pique the sickly, sad woman's attention. Blood stirred in tea, how peculiar. Maybe... it would help. After all, blood was blood? "I will try this strange brew." She acquiesced after a moment of brief contemplation, falling silent as the trio made their way down those steps and further into that sitting room. Everything neat, pristine. It was easy to fall heavily into that couch and rest her limbs. That tiredness all but foreign to her. Dorian settling in his husband, fluttering around the room and into that home... seemed like background noise. How easy it would have been to rest.
Petra's gaze shifting longingly into those welcomed flames of the fireplace, that room slowly beginning to warm. She hardly saw how the fire was started, only the fact that she wished for it to burn hotter. A moment later Dorian slipped away from them, leaving Sebastian and Petra alone. She sniffled as she drew a breath to speak, that congestion still quite odd to her. How quickly that illness seemed to spread within her like a wildfire, this didn't feel right. She rose her elbow to rest upon the arm rest, leaning into it so she could rest her chin heavily within the cradle of her hand. Her body felt impossibly heavy. how she would have liked to laydown... but part of her seemed unable to bring herself to that, a perpetual state of alert. Perhaps it was that hunger that still gnawed at her like a flame in her stomach. Normally the prospect of food would seem appalling to someone under the weather but Petra had been starved of blood for far too long. Surely the sustenance could help her rid herself of this cumbersome disease. It would seem in those moments lost to the flames, her illusions had fled her, she hadn't even noticed that her chicken dissipated into nothing but air.
Charles emerged first, with her blood laced tea, moving purposely toward Sebastian first, his heartbeat a fine noise. Those blankets were soon to follow along with Dorian as he had promised. What a friendly fae he was, perhaps she saw why Sebastian liked him so much. With haste the woman immediately draped those thick blankets over her legs, as if you could retain heat in the dead. How quick Charles was to offer Petra that beverage that now was securely nestled within her cold hands. That heat was luxurious, how she wished she could wrap her body around that very cup. Even that was not enough to halt that shiver which ran through her. Such a strange thing to feel, both warm and impossibly chilled at the same time. She drew that drink to her lips, smelling it was all but useless. The vampire took a small tentative sip at first, it tasted like old blood and something else. Those notes of tea still very much prominent. It was conflicting to say the least and yet nice upon her raw throat. Its taste wasn't the worst, she supposed. Just as she supposed she liked it enough.
It was a moment later when a woman known as Elizabeth suddenly swept into that room. A young thing with a doctor's bag. Her cheeks were rosy, the woman all but frantic in her state of panic. Dorian was quick to speak, relief deeply woven within his still worried tone. Petra, continued to watch beneath her amassed blankets, sipping her blood tea as she observed with distinct apprehension. Just how many pets did Sebastian and Dorian keep?
She presented herself like a doctor, moving toward Sebastian first as a mopey Petra watched her and the closely hovering Dorian overtop the lip of her mug. This sickness... was just awful. Yet, she was content enough to watch just what this woman doctor would do. Perhaps she was not just a mere doctor, but a shaman of sorts? That examination was, ordinary to say the least. That inquiry of those other symptoms seemed to be directed at Sebastian before facing her. Petra drew a long drink of her special brew.
It was then when Elizabeth's attention settled upon Petra. That was when the vampire noticed something she hadn't before. How caring, this doctor appeared. It nearly took the vampire aback. Blinking slowly, she stared at her openly as she approached with caution, that question upon her lips, explaining to the vampire what she was about to do. "Yes it is and you can... Do what you must.." She leaned forward to place her half-drunk tea on a coaster upon the coffee table in preparation for that examination.
Petra sat up straighter still, rising the fabric of her shirt with little worry so that the doctor could press the stethoscope against her chest. Petra seemed to intently stare at Elizabeth unwaveringly as if mesmerized by her. The vampire leaned inward just so, as though the others wouldn't notice. Their gazes lying elsewhere in some sort of modesty for her. Men had done so much worse than simply look at her. The vampire drew a deep crackling breath from her mouth. Elizabeth listened with a trained ear, the examination completed rather quickly.
Elizabeth promptly moved away then, placing the stethoscope around her neck then pulled out a wooden stick like she did for Sebastian. Petra reduced to eye it warily. That question seemed to cause Petra to perk up as though it were an invitation. An inquiry as to if she would bite her. That sweet elixir within her veins felt like... for a split second.... Could be hers. If Petra were rid of this sickness, she was sure her advance would have been smoother, she was certain. "I can, in fact.." Dorian interjected then, quickly.
No fun. First Charles and now this one too. She was nice, she hardly intended to kill her. All she wanted was just wanted a taste. Perhaps it was her blood that could have cured her rather than this silly examination. A near pouty expression found her lips in disappointment. She obediently pulled away slightly from that fixed glare Dorian had given, as though that order came from Sebastian himself. How quick she was to submit to the much weaker fairy, going so far to avert her gaze. Reluctantly, but meekly she parted her lips for that final once over. That quick perusal of her throat was over quicker than she had thought, after feeling utterly ridiculous saying that word 'ahh'. Elizabeth promptly stood, moving away from the vampire with haste as though Petra made her feel uncomfortable.
Petra brought those blankets back to her, leaning in forward to regain possession of her blood infused tea. Elizabeth seemed to pause, all three of them hanging off every word in baited breath, that room dreadfully quiet over the crackling of the large fireplace, its warmth it afforded them was still not enough to combat this awful chill. The doctor, she knew something, she could see it in her eyes, it must have been bad. They were going to die. Whatever could she have seen in her throat that would determine that!?
The woman doctor claimed it was the flu. This cannot be, surely she was wrong! The flu that had reduced two vampires into sad groaning heaps upon the couch! That neon goo in the alley way that infected them had not intended to kill them at all? It seemed.... Too wasteful, such a staged attack to only infect them with a common sickness. This had to be someone's idea of a cruel joke, surely, no one would waste such methodical planning on something so petty. As if a witch somewhere could not stand that vampires couldn't get sick so they took matters into their own hands, wishing upon them suffering of a mortal! Dorian seemed equally as confused by this, Petra seemed to watch Sebastian with an observational gaze, as if to gauge his response to this. It seemed, Sebastain, despite dooming her to an existence of emotion, somehow knew all the answers. It didn't matter that he was just as clueless as she, her faith in him was truly a remarkable, complex thing to be seen. Elizabeth explained something of a flu shot to Dorian and he seemed to draw closer to Sebastian as though the sickly vampire could protect him from the likes of a needle. How quick he was to reject the cure she offered him.
All Petra could do was continue worrying, that Elizabeth, despite her kindness was somehow very wrong. "Are you certain? I... I do not want to explode like the substance that infected us." Her concerned teal eyes peered at Elizabeth, sniffing unhappily in her own misfortune. Surely this doctor lady had to be wrong. It felt strange to trust in another, but she had seemed kind. But what she did know? None of this knowledge did a thing in actually aiding the vampires in feeling better. Nothing seemed to gentle that steady pounding in her head, as though it could explode! Vampires were not supposed to get sick. The means in which that plague had spread was e1ven more.... Alarming. That seemed to be cast aside for a moment noticing Dorian's distinct discomfort over those needles Elizabeth displayed within her hand.
"You fear the needle over the flu? Does Sebastian not bite you? He acts like he bites.. you.. a lot. Surely that needle isn't worse than his bite."Very curious indeed, that question uttered almost innocently. Surely fangs were worse than that tiny little piece of metal junk. She tipped her head curiously to the right, peering at Dorian through thick lashes, sniffling. She had curled up upon that couch, tugging those blankets tightly around her like a cocoon she could get sucked into.