fandomtownies | Covent Garden Flowers, Friday (6/21)

So no, Keyleth wasn't feeling any less mildly queasy today than she had felt yesterday. Or the day before. Feeling much worse, though? That was definitely happening, and it was a much more pervasive kind of sick feeling than the week they'd spent in a radioactive wasteland. Probably because of the fact that she could sense the entire island dying very rapidly, and because of the bone-deep horror that seemed to suffuse the entire blight. Between the plant life withering away to nothing and the animals getting twisted into awful monster creatures? Yeah.

So she looked a bit pale and unsteady by the time she made it in to work today -- there was no grey tint to her skin, and she hadn't sprouted wings or anything new and terrifying, though. It wasn't that she was infected, so much as it was that purely on account of her druidic training she was far more aware, in a conscious and informed way, of the infection than she would have liked to be.

She might have been tending to the plants in the shop with a bit of manic overprotectiveness today, but really, could you blame her? As much as her rational brain knew all of this was beyond her control, that Fandom itself kept hopping from one reality to another, she couldn't help feeling like she'd failed the island somehow.

Just. Damn it.

[OOC: Shop open, no OCD!]