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Javor watched with great interest as Desiree fell. Mao had told him to watch her and Javor really hadn't been planning on it but that was quite a graceful arc she traced in the air as she fell in a rather magnificent fashion. Even while falling, she was attractive (if one discounted the look on her face). At any rate, that should have been foreseen with those pointy sticks she was trying to walk around on--honestly, such shoes were intriguing but why women attempted to walk on glorified chopsticks was far beyond his ability comprehend. Still, even after she fell, he made no move to try to help her up or see if she was alive still. He did, however, take his mop in hand so he could give her a good poke with the handle, which was almost the same thing. Unfortunately, she didn't move or make a sound.

Hmm. Perhaps she was dead. It would explain the crack as her face hit the floor.

As Mao began to speak, Javor gave Mitsukai a very disappointed look. "Did you really kill her from jealousy?" He shook his head. "How discouraging--there was not much to be jealous of." He gave Mitsukai an encouraging smile, which might have looked more encouraging and less horrifying if he'd taken time to wash the red streaks off off his face and clothes. "I much prefer you, my dear," he assured her. And it was true. She was, after all, fun to tease.

Looking at Desiree, he sighed, wondering if he was going to have to finish cleaning, now. "Well. I suppose what is done is done. We should dispose of her properly...." He wondered if there was a heavy duty saw somewhere in the clinic.

"Though the dumpster seems appropriate for someone like her, I suppose my roses do need more fertilizer..." Ah. But it was a little cruel to simply chop her up and use her to fertilize the roses. Mao had hired her after all--he probably had some sort of attachment. Javor set the broom down and knelt carefully beside Desiree. He gently pulled off the disturbingly tall heels and handed them almost reverently to Mao. "I'm sure you wish to keep these to remember her by, yes?"

And if not, well, they'd probably make great weapons...

"I didn't kill her, oh my goodness," Mitsukai responded to Javor, obviously frustrated with her co-workers giving her the blame. Why would they think she was jealous anyway? She didn't even know the woman, and like Javor had just told her, there didn't really seem much to be jealous of. She supposed in different circumstances it could've been flattering to hear that she was preferred over the doctor woman, but right now they didn't even know if she was okay, also, Javor kind of creeped her out.

"We don't even know if she's dead yet, what do you mean we should dispose of her?" Mitsukai protested. She looked to Mao, hoping to hear the woman was okay, only to see him rolling his eyes. Remind me, why I applied was all she could think in response to his statement, and again she held her tongue, knowing better than to talk back to the man. If only there were other nursing positions open in Nirvani. Her thoughts were disrupted by Mao announcing that the woman was alive and okay, which was definitely a relief. "See, she's alright," Mitsukai said to Javor, in a rather "I told you so" tone. She then sighed in response to her boss, quietly turning around to go set up one of the empty rooms. At least she wouldn't have them accusing her of murder while she went off to go do that, at least not to her face anyway.

"No, I'm fairly certain she is dead," Javor said. "But it is alright. She has confessed to me, previously, that upon her inevitable demise, she wished to donate her body to the clinic. To be honest, I believe it was suicide." He nodded solemnly because honestly, why else would someone who would be on her feet nearly all day, wear those kinds of shoes? It was either a bizarre form of self harm, or a suicide attempt. And since she appeared to have broken her neck, he was simply choosing the latter.

The bit about donating her body was a complete lie though. But he was sure it was what she would have wanted. Probably.

Then Eva entered. She was quite tall. She even put the Amazon to shame. She was like a double strength Amazon, or just an outright giant. He was temporarily distracted, trying to figure out if there were any men on the island who would be impressed by such a large woman, but it occurred to him Eva might, in fact, be a man. It would explain the height. Desiree was probably one as well. That explained the shoes. They were trying to compensate for their over all lack of femininity with those ridiculous high heels.

Ah. He'd figured it out, no doubt.

Javor was broken from his thoughts when Eva asked about the mops and he blinked at her, slowly remembering where he was and what they'd been talking about. "Ah, yes. I do not know why there are two. I believe Desiree may have ridden one here. Not every witch can find a good broom, I think."

Tshila was not having a good week. She was sick! She, of all people! It was horrible. It wasn't that she felt just completely awful but she was just kind of gross feeling and she was stuck at home because she was potentially contagious and there was a party going on and she couldn't go and it was the perfect chance to meet people (and possibly see a potentially prospective romantic interest...person) and she was stuck at home watching scary movies to comfort herself.

Except she kind of freaked herself out a bit and was scared to stay in her apartment alone because she was pretty sure a scary lady was going to come out of the drain in the bathroom and tear her head off and turn it into a soup bowl, which would really just be completely horrific. Especially since she was also convinced there were zombies in the closet...

So she soon found herself at the health clinic because it was really the only place she could reasonably go to be around people, without having to feel guilty for contaminating the place with her germs. Since it was kind of, you know, dark and scary outside, she'd sort of run to the place as fast as she could just in case the zombies from the closet were chasing her...

So when she burst in through the door, she was out of breath and about ready to keel over because jogging while sick was definitely not smart. But at least she was in a well lit, safe place....unless the zombies had gotten there first.

"Um...hello??"

Tshila was waiting for someone to come out from the back room or whatever. She wasn't really paying attention to what was going on behind her because she was standing in the wait room sort of wringing her hands frantically. So she didn't hear Alfred come in at all. Not until he spoke to her from right behind her and nearly scared the life out of her. (Seriously, she nearly wet herself).

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH---zombie!!" Whirling around with a loud yelp, Tshila brought both hands up, ready to karate chop her assailant in the face, then jump on his back and squeeze his torso with her legs until she broke his ribs. She was about three seconds from hitting Alfred when she realized that he was not a zombie.

He looked just kind of like a sick person. Like her. Except taller and more manly. "Oh...Lord..." she wheezed, sinking to the floor, clutching her heart. "You totally scared the crap out of me! But like, not literally, cause, you know, ew. But yeah, totally scared me, like, a lot!"

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t bat an eye. Instead, he froze, certain that his heart had permanently stopped and that his soul flew straight for the afterlife. Fortunately, his soul crashed and landed back into his body, where his heart was back to racing miles and his ears were still ringing. ******** hell. It took a few blank blinks for him to gather his bearings, and even then, Alfred could only manage to croak out with a forced smile. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to give you such a fright. If it helps, you got me pretty good too.” No harm was done except to his poor heart. Other than that, he was fine. He could handle it. For some odd reason, his heart couldn’t, but that was okay since an older man just came by.

Alfred shook his head at the man’s offer, releasing a small breath of tension, before saying. “No thank you. I’m actually just here for something for my hands. It’s a bit hard to cook with a rash on my hands. I have a case of um… HFMD? I think that’s what it’s called anyway.”

HFMD? ….Did the girl have it too? He crinkled his nose as he glanced at the blonde clinging to him, blabbering on about zombies and whatnot. She better not be getting any of her fluids on his clothes; he liked his clothes. But, she was rather attractive and it had been so long since he had anyone throwing themselves at him. 'So long' as in 'never' because Mao always gave off the same vibes of a poisonous dart frog and porcupine hybrid, even in his youth. In any case, he decided to allow the moron to continue whatever she was doing, keeping his bare hands up so he didn't accidentally touch a blister.

“I see.” He drawled in response to her, not bothering to hide the judging tone he always got around those so wimpy they got squeamish around a little needle. He had half a mind to forgo asking anyone in the first place and just use his blowgun on patients instead, but then a different sort of pestilence came to mind.

He looked shocked as he raised his eyes to the man, “Are you certain it is HFMD? There are quite a few diseases that mimic it. In fact, one new variant that has been going around on this island can be mistaken for it.. Starts with a fever, a rash appears a few days after, and then a sudden affinity for.. anthropophagy.” He paused dramatically and lowered his voice for the girl to hear it, “Cannibalism.” He waited a beat before brandishing the party hats to them both, “Would anyone like a hat? It's ideal to celebrate the new year with a hat.”