[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.]

( letter from Sherlock, photographed for the network )

[voice]

[ After a moment, there's a long sigh. Joan had volunteered to paint when the strangers asked, and this is the fruit of her labors: a letter from home. ] It sounds just like him, that's for sure. I wish I knew something more about handwriting analysis. Although that would require a comparative sample, so it isn't any good either.

Has anyone else received anything from the new regime as a gift for helping out? Any other letters? I figured that would be the hardest to fake.

I'd like to get together and compare notes with anyone who has.

Damn persistent 'noise'. Be quiet and let me search for it in peace!