poly_chromatic | Sick & Tired (accidental video post)

[His device turns on while he's in the bathroom of his apartment. He doesn't realize this. Fortunately, he's wearing pants. His mouth is open a little, because that's how he's breathing. Sinus infection? He clears his throat, loudly. Sore throat? Neil looks in the mirror, sticks his right pinky finger in his right ear and wiggles it. Hearing problems?

Well, isn't he a mess?

He sneezes, his left hand barely making it to cover his mouth. Someone taught him that, likely his mother. When he pulls his hand away, a trickle of blood comes out his nose. He speaks to the mirror, still unaware he is broadcasting, and says, in a hoarse voice:]

What the fuck is wrong now?

[ooc: Neil is sick-cursed and only going to get worse. The rite to heal him involves eating food he loves: burgers, fries, pizza, you know, the stuff some of us might wish we could eat all the time with no repercussions. If anyone wants to have a dream about it, they'll be eating wherever and whatever they wish, but Neil, who is in the dream with your character, won't be eating. He'll look sad and thin and tired.]

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I thought that you would be sick! I had a dream--one of your dreams, like the talking dog said we would have.

[Chekov generally assumes that everyone in the City keeps up with the network and knows what's going on. He's not always right.]

[Neil isn't that together when it comes to keeping track of stuff, especially when he's feeling like crap. He looks up, a little startled, and realizes the device is on.]

Fuck. I didn't know I was putting on a show.

[He sighs and wipes his nose with a cloth.]

Hey, Chekov. Dreams? Talking dogs? What shit are you smokin', man?

Sorry, sorry--I should have mentioned that.

[He just rolls his eyes because gosh, doesn't anyone pay attention here?]

I'm fine, and there was a talking dog who told us that the diseases are magic and that we would dream of cures. I dreamed that we were at a table and I was eating hamburgers. Does that make sense?

[Neil doesn't come from a time where everyone has a computer and/or a mobile phone that can hack the Internet - that and he isn't a trained Starfleet officer - so he doesn't pay as much attention to the Network as he probably should...]

Oh.

I must've missed that one...

As for you eating hamburgers? Hamburgers are one of my fave foods. Was I eating hamburgers?

[It's not Neil's fault that the space-future breeds high expectations (or, for that matter, that Chekov hasn't recalibrated his expectations).]

No, no--you were sick, I think, even in the dream.

[Neil can also be a lazy-ass, you know?]

So I wasn't eating? That's so fuckin' wrong, Chekov...

[Which is a perfectly reasonable thing to be!]

Maybe, but what do you think this dream is telling me? Can it be as simple as eating?

[Tell that to his mother...]

I dunno. Never had this happen before...

[He coughs up some more blood and spits it into the sink.]

Edited 2013-07-30 13:48 (UTC)

Magic plagues that can be cured with dreams don't happen often; I would hope that this has never happened before.

But I will do what I think the dream recommends, and maybe you will be better soon.

Shit no.

So, you're gonna eat?

Yes, I am. It will be difficult, but for you, I'll manage.

[Neil rolls his eyes a little, even feeling the way he does.]

I mean, it's not like you don't eat ever, but it sounds like you're gonna be eating some of my favourite foods...

[This is a common reaction to Chekov.]

Does that upset you? I would bring you something, if you aren't too ill to be hungry.

[Poor guy...]

Shit, no. Don't bring me food, don't show me pictures of food, don't talk about any recipes...

No food, yes, I understand. Is there anything that you would like?

[He has to think about that one.]

Uh... I guess... asking you to eat a shit load of junk food is what I'd like you to do, 'cause feeling like this is --

[... interrupted by blood oozing out one of his ears. It obviously hurts, but he's trying not to scream.]

It will help, I think. If it does not, I will try something else.

Thanks, Checkov.

you rock...

Oh, don't worry. You're only dying. It seems to be easily cured...if you know how.

[He jumps a little.]

Shit! Don't do that.

Dying? What? Are you serious?

[He coughs up some blood.]

Fuck...

Edited 2013-07-25 17:39 (UTC)

A magical disease. It will worsen unless you manage to find your personalized cure. I do not know what that would be.

Not everyone's been hit with this, right? You don't seem sick...

[He coughs up some more blood and grabs a towel to wipe at his face.]

Sick & Tired (accidental video post)

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