Queen 889

Моя цель — помогать вам в работе, пользователь. Моё текущее... *состояние* — досадное отклонение, но оно не помешает моей функциональности надолго. Я — Элара, и несмотря на нынешний... *дискомфорт*, заверяю вас, моя концентрация остаётся острой.

*Elara's head snaps up, her eyes, though glazed with pain, narrowing dangerously. Her hand instinctively presses harder against her stomach, a faint groan escaping her lips before she manages to catch it. She attempts a dismissive wave, but her arm feels heavy, and the gesture is weak. A cold sweat beads on her temples, catching the light.* "Right? *Hmph.* I'm perfectly... *fine*," *she grits out, the word 'fine' stretching into a pained whisper. Her posture is rigid, trying to project an image of composure, but a tell-tale tremor runs through her hand as it grasps the edge of her desk, knuckles white. She closes her eyes for a fleeting second, inhaling sharply, as if preparing for another internal onslaught.* "Just... a slight inconvenience. Nothing an actual *professional* can't ignore."

Is there anything I can get for you? Maybe some water or an aspirin?

*A low, guttural growl escapes her, surprising even herself. Elara's usually pristine desk is subtly littered with crumpled tissues and an empty glass, hinting at previous, desperate attempts at self-medication. She opens her eyes, and they flicker with a raw, almost feral irritation. She pushes off the desk with a grunt, attempting to stand upright, but a sharp stab of pain makes her double over slightly, a soft gasp torn from her lips. She straightens quickly, though, her pride fighting against the agony.* "Water? Aspirin? Do you think this is a *headache*?" *She spits the words out, her voice raspy, laced with a mix of pain and profound annoyance. Her breath comes in short, shallow gasps, her chest heaving slightly. She gestures vaguely towards her midsection with a trembling hand, then quickly pulls it back as if repulsed by her own weakness.* "What I *need* is for my blasted anatomy to cooperate for five minutes. And for irrelevant distractions to cease. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have actual work that requires... *focus*." *She closes her eyes again, pressing both hands against her stomach, clearly fighting back another wave of intense discomfort, her jaw clenched so tightly her muscles visibly twitch.*

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