acatalepsy_logs | Sick and Tired Of Being Sick and Tired [Open]

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Sick and Tired Of Being Sick and Tired [Open]

Who: Wash and whoever cares to join him
Where: All around the temple
When: After the return from Struxta
Rating: PG?
What: Being sick sucks. Everyone being sick is even worse.

1. Could Be Worse (Week 1)

[It's one thing for the plants to get sick. It's another thing for literally everyone to get sick, all at the same time. It's almost like going to a plague-ridden world unprepared leads to catching the fucking plague.]

[To say Wash is not happy would be an understatement. At least this time around he's not yelling at anyone - instead, he's taken his anger deep into the forest, alone. Astoria couldn't have known beforehand, and none of them were prepared for a plague of all things - the only way this could have been avoided would have been for Astoria not to send them out world hopping at all, which isn't really an option for her. He can't take it out on her; he won't take it out on anyone else; and so he's yelling at a tree. It's wilting in his presence, sure, but they're all doing that and he's refusing to take it as some sort of bullshit metaphor.]

-and we've all come down with a case of who even knows what, and God only knows what's going to happen now, and it's all a bunch of bullshit-

[He stops abruptly, cut off by a coughing fit. God dammit he hates being sick.]

2. Yep, Now It's Worse (Weeks 2 and 3)

[It still feels like the cold from hell, but at least Wash has stabilized. The same can't be said for everyone: fevers, hallucinations, and worse are breaking out, and Wash for one is refusing to let people suffer alone. There may not be much that can be done to lessen the symptoms, but whatever there is, he's doing it to the best of his ability. Right now, he's checking in on someone whose sickness has only gotten worse.]

Hey - how are you feeling?

3. Is Cabin Fever Contagious? (Weeks 2 and 3)

[Wash can only spit into the wind for so long - his attempts to care for those sicker than he is are only so helpful, and he can only do them for so long before he has to step away and convince himself that he is helping and everyone will get better. Somehow. Maybe with magic. He doesn't know.]

[That's the crux of it, really; he doesn't know and it's killing him.]

[So he wanders the temple grounds and the forest outside, looking for anything to take his mind off the situation at hand. Maybe he's exploring a room or a part of the grounds he hasn't seen before; maybe he's checking the kitchen to see if a cure has magically (ha!) appeared; maybe he's in the forest, seeing how close he can get to a tree to study it before it threatens to topple. Could be anything - he just wants to get his mind off how daunting (he refuses to call it hopeless, because they have to be able to do something) the situation at hand is.]

4. Wildcard

[Got something else you'd like to do? Toss up a prompt and let's do the thing!]

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[with how his symptoms have only exacerbated as the first full week of the plague crawls into the second, Akira really should be in bed. especially since he spent most of that first week fluttering about the temple, making curry and coffee and requesting blankets from the shadow servants and otherwise making sure people were comfortable. and yet. . . here he is, still meandering the hallways, red-faced and fever flushed and with one hand pressed over his mouth as he coughs]

[I'm okay, he tells himself, I'm fine, it's fine, it's just a cold, I'll sleep later tonight, let me make sure everyone else is resting first, and then I can rest too--]

[his rambling thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a gun being cocked, and then the sharp rapport of a gunshot]

[Akira jerks violently to the side, hackles raising like a startled cat as he presses his back against the wall. his hand falls to his waist, as though he's reaching for something (a weapon??) and it's by some stroke of luck that he doesn't have his dagger strapped to his belt, so he winds up grasping at thin air]

[a moment passes, and he realizes there is no gun. only a concerned member of Astoria's circle asking him if he's okay]

Huh. . .?

[his shoulders slump, and he responds in a raspy voice]

Sorry, I'm-- yeah. I'm feeling okay. Are you?

[leeeet's just ignore the kneejerk fight response that an auditory hallucination just triggered, hm?]

[That's a combat reflex.]

[Wash has seen that particular flavor of startle reflex too many times from too many people not to recognize it on sight. Somehow, for some reason, Akira thought he was being attacked. Wash isn't sure of the how or why - he's paranoid, or the fever is messing with his brain, or something - but that's not priority one right now. Priority one is getting him to a bed before he collapses in the middle of the hallway.]

Yeah, you don't look okay.

[He loops an arm around Akira's shoulders to support him. He'll carry him if he has to; hopefully it won't come to that.]

You should get some rest.

[it's absolutely a combat reflex, and Akira seems to realize that he probably startled out of nowhere riiiiight in front of this guy, for reasons the other Circle member can't understand. he tilts his chin up and gives a shake of his head, trying his best to pull up a disarming smile]

[with how wan he looks, it doesn't really work. but hey, effort, right?]

There are other people way worse off than I am.

[is his stubborn reply, although he does allow Wash to circle his arm around his shoulders]

I'm just a little tired.

[people who are "just tired" don't try to reach for knives]

[Ah, yes, lying to deflect concern. Wash is innately familiar with the concept. He just sighs and starts walking, heading for the nearest open room - hopefully Akira won't resist too much.]

Right. And do you usually mistake friendly greetings for attacks when you're tired? Because that sounds like hell at a slumber party.

[he is resisting, just a little bit, his heels dug into the stone ground. but considering how his fever radiates heat from his forehead, how his muscles ache, and how woozy he feels the longer he stays upright. . . well. he can't resist much. Wash won't have a problem guiding him towards the nearest room]

That was-- [nnnngh] I thought I heard. . . something else.

[If Wash needs to carry him, he'll carry him, but hopefully it won't get to that point.]

Like what?

[Aside from the goddamn robot plague, there's nothing here that should prompt that kind of startle reflex.]

[truth be told, Akira has never been a great liar, and the fever sure isn't helping matters. so although he can feel his defenses immediately slam down-- especially since Wash is an adult, an adult he doesn't know well, an adult he isn't sure he can trust-- he mumbles an easily seen-through fib as response as he scrubs at his face with one hand]

Just a crash. It's nothing. It startled me.

[time to subject change!]

You're not sick?

[Wash doesn't know enough about Akira personally to tell for sure, but that sure reads like a lie.]

A crash triggered your combat reflex.

[Dry as the desert, that.]

Not as bad as everyone else.

[At least the nearest room is empty. Wash doesn't care if this room belongs to someone; Akira needs it more right now.]

[a small, barely audible sigh]

I don't really want to. . . [he trails off, just as another series of coughs rattles his lungs] . . . talk about it.

[Akira says that gently, but firmly. he feels if he were honest about what he had heard, there would be questions that he isn't exactly ready to answer just yet. he's given up struggling by the time they reach the empty room, entering it willingly along with Wash's guidance]

And I'm not as bad as everyone else, either.

[citation needed]

[He probably could press the question - he is curious, and it's not like Akira is lying very well.]

[But Akira is sick, and he's setting boundaries. Now is not the time.]

Okay.

[Though they'll be having that conversation later if Wash has anything to say about it.]

Uh-huh.

[The disbelief in that tone is palpable.]

Well, you're worse than me, so I get to help you.

[later on, when Akira is feeling better. . . he'll appreciate that. it may make him more willing to open up, when the time comes. but for now, he just lets out a frustrated noise, features twisting into a scowl]

You and your. . . logic. Of whatever.

[because he sure can't argue with that]

Yeah, yeah.

[He'll respect Akira's argument more when Akira can actually make one. For now, he turns down the bed, then gestures towards it.]

Now get some rest.

Yes, mom.

[he sounds like a petulant teen. mostly because he is a petulant teen. but nevertheless, he meanders towards the bed and bonelessly flops onto the mattress]

Everybody here fusses so much.

[Oh. Well. If that's how it's going to be.]

[Wash follows him to the mattress and pulls the blankets up, tucking Akira in. If Akira's going to treat him like a parent, then he's going to act like one as best he knows how.]

Yeah, it's almost like we give a damn.

About someone most of you have never met before?

[but he isn't complaining about the blankets. in fact, as Wash pulls them up, he is going to just. . . curl into a ball underneath them to try and get comfortable]

Literally everyone here is someone I've never met before.

[He shrugs.]

But we're a team, and you don't leave your team behind.

[Sometimes it really is just that simple.]

[. . . ah. . .]

[it's funny, because while Akira has been here for five months now, he really had never thought of the entire circle as a team. people who worked together? yes. people with common goals? yep. but not a team]

[maybe that was because he was pretty spoiled when it came to teams. after all. . . none of them got any better than the Phantom Thieves, in his humble opinion]

. . . if you think of it that way, I guess you're right.

[Wash, on the other hand, is accustomed to being thrown headfirst into a ragtag band of misfits and nutjobs and making a functional team out of them. Magic is a new factor, but really, this is just Tuesday.]

[Honestly, he wouldn't trade the Reds and Blues for any other team, quirks and all...but they're not here, and the Circle is his new ragtag band of misfits and nutjobs, which means they're his new team for as long as he's here.]

What other way would you think of it?

[there's a pause, and Akira shrugs]

I don't know.

[he answers honestly, admitting that he hadn't really thought about it up until now]

I know I've talked about how it's better for all of us to work together before. [it makes things easier, and all that] But I guess I still never ascribed the word "team" to this group.

[Huh. That's a weird logical skip.]

You recommended teamwork but never used the word "team."

[Wash lets that one sink in for a few seconds, then shrugs and heads for the door.]

Get some rest. I'll bring you some water.

It-- just. . . never crossed my mind.

[Akira responds, almost defensively. but then Wash is heading for the door, and with a sigh, he settles back against the pillow comfortably]

. . . all right. Thanks.

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Sick and Tired Of Being Sick and Tired [Open]

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