4 ♞ voice

[sickbeat]

Ugh--

[A sick splatter of liquid, a groan, a panicked gasp.]

Shit, shit, shit-- how the hell does this even work. Okay, fuck, you made your point, I'll bow at your alter and sacrifice lambs and- nngh.

[A wheeze, some coughing, and zap. Static.]

[ooc | Souvenirs you never lose! Because being Dave is suffering: spoilers. All responses will be while he's in the Shadow City.]

Comments

[voice]

[riches]

[ Oh, spirits. What even? ]

Dave? Dave!

[voice]

[sickbeat]

[Wow, this is awkward. Dave now sounds totally and completely fine. But damn shit was that post melodramatic. How to...fix this??]

Hey.

[Yeah, that'll do it.]

voice;

[beyourarmy]

Uh, you gonna be okay there? That doesn't sound good.

voice;

[sickbeat]

Nah, I'm good.

[He sounds...completely okay, now. Like that post didn't even happen.]

voice;

[beyourarmy]

[Doesn't want to buy it just yet.]

You sure? It sounded like something splattered, and there are so many things that could have.

voice;

[sickbeat]

Yeah, that's old news, like ten minutes ago, where've you been, dude?

[Trying to play it off like he wasn't just gurgling blood and some shit.]

voice;

[beyourarmy]

Oh. So you're all healed now?

voice;

[sickbeat]

As long as I stay over on this side of the fence, I'm right as rain, fit as a fuckin' fiddle.

[errandry]

[ staring at the post versus... the responses. ]

What the shit was that.

voice;

[beyourarmy]

This side.... Did you go to the other City again?

[intheblanks]

They've done the lamb sacrificing, it didn't work.

How are you holding up?

voice;

[sickbeat]

Yeah.

It's pretty fucking cozy over here. Pillow forts made from the softest fibers, mined lovingly from the asses of various baboon species.

[sickbeat]

Woke up this morning then tripped and fell on a porcupine.

[sickbeat]

Fuck. What about food? What kind of deity's gonna reject food drizzled with holy water?

It's fine. I'm fine.

[intheblanks]

They're not gods. Which might actually make them easier to bribe, but I'm not sure you'll get there with a snack.

Good.

[sickbeat]

Well today they're giving off the impression they want my organs, and that is just one thing I cannot part with. A line's gotta be drawn, and that's where I'm drawing it, with an entire box of Crayola toxic-free sidewalk chalk if necessary.

[intheblanks]

Ever come close to losing an organ before?

[errandry]

That's all it takes to get you to the shrines, huh.

[sickbeat]

What, have you?

[intheblanks]

No, but I'm not the one repeating the experience.

[sickbeat]

Yup. Got a book full of inspiring hymns and some DVDs of people crying in churches to get myself hyped up on the mood. Something about all the ecclesiastical hand gestures gets me going.

[sickbeat]

Ugh.

I'd recommend against it. There's this unpleasant but persistent stabbing sensation everywhere that doesn't get any less annoying.

[errandry]

... Dave, seriously, if you drop dead I'm gonna plant pink flowers on your grave.

[intheblanks]

We see this curse at the hospital at least once a month. There's no fixing it until midnight.

[sickbeat]

Okay so this idiot full of holes stumbles into your fine medical establishment.

And you do what.

Shove them in a bathtub, hope they don't bleed out?