(no subject)

[parkinglotangel]

Who: Michael, Robin, Riku, and Rin
Broadcast: No
Action: Aboard the Bloodsport
When: Today -> until the plague is cured?

[After centuries of existence, having seen atrocities and having battled devils, including Satan himself, Michael has never felt anything quite like this.

Namely, being totally, utterly, helplessly sick. And much like many of the not-entirely mortal on the fleet, the angel has absolutely no idea how to deal with this admittedly novel experience. As the plague worsened, he's given up his usual cheerful attitude and any pretense of functioning.

Probably much to the chagrin of his healthier crewmates.

For now the miserable angel can be found slumped facedown over the arm of his couch, moaning dramatically into the upholstery. He'll be sure to moan extra loud if someone not sick happens to pass by.]

Comments

[limitstorm]

[ riku--who you only have to sneeze at within the same five mile radius before getting sick--is miraculously healthy. of course, this means that he's scrutinizing his crewmates' problems, and he's making amends. with both robin and michael sick (and robin can cover it up all he wants, but riku knows his posture and his scent, and it's off) riku has taken it upon himself to make a little something.

... of course, this means he's running across the ship a bit. he crosses michael three times--to get his notebook, running back to find where he put his communicator, and to finally sit down as the soup he made finishes cooking. it's hard to make soup with the limited resources they have. he's definitely going to put his money towards a kitchen upgrade next time he can afford it.

every time, he hears that loud moan and riku looks up at the ceiling as if we were saying dear light, he's still at it.

riku comes to him a fourth time, but this time, he has a bowl of clear broth with some unidentified root vegetables, chicken solids and unidentified poultry. ]

You've got chicken noodle soup in your world, right?

[parkinglotangel]

[Michael lifts his head up from where he'd had it pillowed on the arm of the couch, looking at Riku with a bleary-eyed kind of expression]

That's the stuff that comes in cans, isn't it?

[So maybe his perceptions of Earth are somewhat colored by commercials. Or he's also being a smartass. That's kind of what it smells like, even according to his congested sinuses. Mostly salt. Not his favorite thing in the world.

He'll probably be right on board for that upgrade if anyone brings it up. At least he'll have sugar. Maybe.]

[limitstorm]

[ flatly; ]

The good kind doesn't come in cans.

[ excuse you he slaved over a hot stove for this! well, hot microwave, really, but you'd be surprised how macgyver riku can get when stuff isn't around. ]

You have to eat something if you wanna get better.

[parkinglotangel]

[He tries to scowl but scrunching up his face only makes it hurt, and he puts a hand against his forehead]

It's never been an issue before.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

► [WITH MICHAEL]

[yeah dude you know what sounds good to someone who's sick? that comfy couch. so at any point during Michael's miserable existence, Robin is right there next to him, wriggling around in some sad attempt to get comfortable. at this moment in time, he's upside-down, with his legs up over the back. his arms are dangling and bent apathetically against the floor.]

Ugh...

► [WITH ANYONE ELSE]

[Robin can be found draped comically over pretty much anything. over the comms dashboard, on the floor, sticking out of the ventilation system with a wrench in his hand...]

Uuuugh...

[life is terrible.]

[parkinglotangel]

[Well, he did kind of invite Robin here, so he brought it on himself a little. And honestly, it doesn't really bother him to know that he's not suffering this indignity alone, for whatever reason the two of them seem to have been singled out.]

I don't know how people stand this...

[People meaning humans, in his context]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Seriously...

[he will give up all pretense of being human if it means he can complain about this horrible, horrible disease.]

I think my head's gonna explode. I should move...

[...he doesn't.]

[parkinglotangel]

Better not to mess with what isn't killing you.

[It might be a question to ask if either of them can die. Michael probably can, angel or no. At least while he's in a material body. There are limits. But with limits comes all the fun things. Usually.

Randomly, he shifts just enough that he can look at Robin, though it's a minimal effort all things considered.]

So...Robin...

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[in what is surely a feat of exceptional core muscle strength, he manages to lift and swing the lower half of his body up onto the couch. he still has his legs over the back, now he's just laying sideways.]

Yes Michael.

[parkinglotangel]

[He's staring rather intently at Robin for a few moments before he continues, almost as if he'd forgotten what he wanted to say, then...]

Why is that your name? Why not...Blackbird or...[He gestures, looking for words, and then splays his fingers over his forehead, in imitation of Robin's hair, grinning]...Rooster.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

No, no, no. You're starting to say mean things.

[and it's hard to tell if he thinks it's funny or if he thinks it's genuinely annoying; his smirk is a tight one and he's got kind of this deadpan expression. that might also be because he feels terrible, though.]

I am Robin. My sister was Blackbird, you are a Dove, and roosters are loud. Unnecessarily violent. Very haughty birds. [he waves his hand, which serves no purpose.] Kings and such.

[payback]

[She looks like she's been asleep, as usual. She didn't even bother braiding her hair when she got up this time, and she also brought her blanket with her, wrapped around her like a big old shawl. This ship is not as cozy as she'd like.]

Robin. [:|]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

...Rin.

[where would you like him to be. because he is totally there. and draping.]

[payback]

[Let's say. Pathetically on the galley table. Yeah.]

... Are you sick?

[Just. Just checking.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Ugh. [galley table it is. face smushed against the wood.] Yeah...

[payback]

Drink some tea and stop flopping around like a baby.

[Her solution.]

for michael

[payback]

[She's feeling like shit but bearing up well... honestly, maybe because she spends so much of her life on ship firmly sleeping as much as possible? She does get up to eat and drink tea, and sometimes stares out the fore windows at the stars.

Now she stops to stare at Michael. Not overly sympathetic, but just kind of considering his plight.]

You'll feel better if you drink some hot tea.

[parkinglotangel]

[He knows how to deal with flesh wounds and normal injuries. This is something he can't see and can't physically wrestle into submission, so he's at a loss.

He blinks at her, tugging his jacket at he's currently using as a blanket a bit tighter around himself]

Tea? Do we...have any tea?

[payback]

We have... tea from the drinks machine, and we also have a microwave. [She pauses, and then she laughs.]

So we have tea-flavored water which you can drink hot or cold, yes.

[parkinglotangel]

[Tea doesn't sound as fun as booze. Did he bring any of that with him from the planet? He can't remember.]

I can't see how that would help.

[payback]

It helps to drink hot things. [She shrugs.]

You can make some with me.

[parkinglotangel]

You mean I have to get up?

open

[payback]

[She spends 95%of her time wrapped in her blanket in bed with only some hair sticking out to even indicate she's there.

It's everyone's lucky day! Because she actually was hungry enough to come all the way to the mess hall, get some shitty food, and then go up front where she can stare out the viewports at the stars outside. She's even scooted up, still wrapped in her blanket, leaning her forehead against the cold windows. She looks like somebody cut all her strings and then left her there. She looks like she might be falling asleep right there again, with a bowl of unflavored protein solid in her hands, drizzled with the teriyaki liquid protein.

It's kind of like tofu with teriyaki sauce when you do that. At least if you really stretch your imagination.

At least in contrast with the two whiners on board, she's a very quiet sick person.]

[limitstorm]

[ and here comes the fretting nurse on board. with a frown, he approaches her and gently lays a hand on her shoulder. ]

Rin?

[ taking care of three people is kind of stressful. it's weird to not be affected, but riku's made it his mission to take care of them in the meanwhile, so he's been ignoring... pretty much everything else to make sure they're okay. ]

Rin, hey. Come on, lay down.

[payback]

[She pops her head up a little and squints at him. Doesn't look happy, but her eyes are lighted by a certain edgy alertness: she knows where she is and what she's doing, in spite of feeling like crap.]

Riku.

[A hand unearths from the blankets to cover his briefly.]

I've been looking at the walls for a few days now. I'm gonna stay here for a while, I'll lie down later.