dramatispersonae | AMETHYST

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AMETHYST

[The room is circular and surrounded by a series of ionic columns, the floor and ceiling stretching overhead fashioned out of cracked, white stone. The area beyond the columns is pitch black, and the room itself is lit only by dimly flickering candles. The candles rest on top of a stone table, which sits in the middle of the room.

And next to the candles rest four numbered boxes]

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--Jill? What's wrong?

[ Brow furrowing. ]

This hardly seems like a result of having 'hope'.

It isn't. Someone's given us their bottle.

Honestly how irresponsible of them.

And self-serving.

The vial will prove more valuable than we imagined, if this continues.

Especially if they just keep getting worse.

[tries to catch her breath]

I feel awfully sick all of a sudden -- [breaks off in another coughing fit]

I-I guess someone gave us something.

[...displeased]

Would you like the hope? We have it.

No, thank you. What if we get something worse this time? We'd -- [coughing]

We'd better save it.

...Alright. But if it gets bad, you're taking it.

[shivers, curling up in Lucky's coat]

I'll be all right.

I'm sure you will be. But if we don't need to hold on to the hope, we might as well use it.

All right. But let's wait until the end, just in case.

...We'll see.

...well, I'd rather have a -- [coughing fit] -- a cold, then one of us lose a finger or a toe.

Which is more than valid given the sudden escalation.

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