driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Coil Lenn
Broadcast: Open
Action: SS Red Fish
When: Nov. 26th, morning

[sometime in what could be considered the early hours of 'morning,' a transmission is sent out to every ship. it's only text at first, and it has taken its author an embarrassingly long time to type out.]

pos. samples show unfam. protein action
isolat predatory protein, but diff. to denature
prion? but neg. for aggregates
acting sim. to chaperone? but no trail b/c lack of residue after disassembly

[and then--of course--he remembers the rest of what he wanted to say after he sends it. so, video follows a few seconds after the text message. the camera comes on as a very sick-looking, scraggly teenager is finishing up scrawling something onto the back of his lab notes and then holding it up for the camera to see. he's so tired of trying to type this stuff out it's not even funny.]

'protein structures are solid in native state but I think we can destabilize them'

[and once he's given viewers a few seconds to read, he sets the paper down to write one more word in large letters and emphasizes with scribbly underlining]

'C U R E'

[the video connection is then left open, obviously waiting for responses.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[she is pretty weird. he drags the towel off, though, rolls his shoulders, and wads the thing up over that makeup smudge because that totally hides the evidence.

he'll get up and uuuuugh why do his bones hurt this is miserable.

he's still walking over to Coil, though. tapping him in the shoulder with his knuckles.]

[he startles a little, but still takes a long moment to pull his face away from the microscope and look up at Zhas.

the darkness under his eye has reached new depths. maybe his eye will just give up and fall out by the end of this ordeal.]

[he's off the hook about the towel thing. for now. he signs "report" as per his usual when he wants to know what he's missed.]

[he looks around for, uh... his little communicator thing. where did he put it.

he finally gives up looking in his immediate space, and slides off the stool to go look on another counter where he'd probably left it, shivering as he goes. and by the time he carries back it and the notes that he'd shown the video feed, he kind of looks like maybe he should have stayed over there and leaned for a while before attempting the walk back.]

[oh. okay. he leans against the table and feels all the more exhausted just from watching Coil walk around... so he takes the papers and that communicator, but quickly puts them down to sign something else.]

'Go sleep.'

[he sighs a little and picks them back up, and waves his hand to dismiss the suggestion.

he makes an obvious sign for injection and then points at the relevant lab equipment. there's still work to do.]

[Zhas grabs Coil's wrist and smashes it down onto the table.

clearly, he was not listening the first time.]

'It will wait.'

[and yet again he's reminded of how long he's been gone.

the surprise of it--more than physical discomfort--makes him wince. he used to be really good at avoiding these sorts of reprimands. it's been so long since he's even had to watch for them.

and as a testament to exactly how much time he's spent away, he still wants to argue. his signs are a little handicapped with one wrist pinned, but he can still point at the notes and get across the general idea of 'important' with only one hand.]

[has Coil forgotten? he gets two chances, and that's it. 'important' isn't going to cut it. he lets go of his wrist, but only so that he can reach behind Coil's head and pull down on his hair.

he's standing in a second, towering over him. he wasn't kidding. this wasn't a request.]

[and he trips right into strike three without catching himself. it snaps on him like a beartrap; the consequences are immediate.

after the first flinch--he almost pulls away and that would have been a disaster--he just sucks in a breath through his teeth and stops arguing.

he's trying to fight down the stupid, desperate, exhausted impulses he has. he really is. he still wants to push his point, he still thinks he's right... but he wants to be better, more than anything. it's just a close fight, when there shouldn't be a fight at all.

but he stops signing at him, anyway. he gets it now.]

[and Zhas has no sympathy. he's tired. he's sore. he wants Coil to cooperate the way that he's used to. this might not actually be about Coil's exhaustion anymore--Zhas just wants him to do this one thing, and do it right.

so he pulls tighter for a moment, glaring at him.]

Leave it.

[growled, demanding. this one is an order.]

[and maybe it's another mistake, but it's an automatic one--in the midst of his wincing, his eye slides over to meet Zhas' gaze.

again, it's because of Robin. being around someone who understands his looks more than his signs, eye-contact has kind of become the norm. it's how he communicates now.

so, he doesn't nod. he just looks sorry and obedient. he's sick and tired and full of regret. he won't do it again.]

[and Zhas, seeing that, lets him go.

he stays strong; his entire body aches with exhaustion and sickness but he's going to stand there until Coil either leaves or takes a towel and curls up on a desk.]

[and Coil doesn't have the strength or the inclination to fight anymore. Zhas' message has been received loud and clear.

so, despite the exhaustion, he's quick to move as soon as he's released--ducking his head and slinking away from him, immediately heading in the direction of the door.

with this, he doesn't know if he'll actually be able to sleep any time soon. so, it's better to at least be somewhere he won't be watched. he can at least pretend to be asleep if he's out of sight.

he's not sure that him actually going to sleep is the point now anyway.]