slt_archive | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Relevant persons
Where: A second-floor apartment in Central Corehaven, Cepheus
When: King's Year 197, late spring
What: ~~Spam~~ Fushigi mysteries

* for what may be the first time in almost two years, the Core's Head Engineer hasn't reported in for duty in the last two days. *

* what do. *

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The priest. The priest, light damn his eyes forever--

* ---shudders and jerks his head up. *

You didn't.

You didn't see?

There . . . there wasn't any priest.

.....

* shoves himself to his feet--cringing as he does-- and staggers towards the door with a jerking stiffness to his movements, like a marionette with rusted joints. his shoulders and chest gleam with sweat in what light filters in from the shuttered windows. *

[Ahhhh this is so not okay. Reaches for him hesitantly as he approaches, trying to avoid sudden movements. She isn't sure how much she trusts his judgment or reactions anymore right now, but she needs to get a good assessment of his condition]

Chrys . . .

* he doesn't pay any heed to her as he advances, but the moment her hand touches his skin-- burning hot and stiff as iron--- *

Back OFF!!

* ---and his arm lashes out sideways, hard. *

[She inhales sharply at the heat and tension in his skin, possibly to cry out in surprise, but she isn't nearly quick enough to dodge that at such a close range and stumbles back into the wall with a sharp cry]

* freezes at her cry, hand still poised in the air *

...

[ssssteadying against the wall, one hand up in a gesture that could be either placating or soothing]

I-It's—okay. It's still just me. I-I'm sorry I scared you.

...Ceres...

* hand falling away, he backs one, two steps away from her. *

Shit. Shit, I... I'm sorry, I....

[sh-shakes her head]

It's okay. I should've said something first.

N-no, it's not...

* staring at his hands, fingers clawed and quivering with tension. *

I can't. I can't make it stop.

You're sick. You should have called for me.

You shouldn't be here. You could-- catch. Whatever the hell this... is.

I could have shot you.

I've been exposed anyway now, so I may as well stay.

You didn't, so it's fine.

...

* just. lowers himself to sit on the edge of the bed *

. . . How long have you been like this? When did you start seeing people?

...night before I stopped. Going to work.

* grasping at his fringe, the headband long since tossed in some corner of the room. *

Hours after I hit Raknos.

—And you didn't send for me yet? Have any doctors been up to see you?

...

I thought it would. Fade. If I just let it run its course.

* jerks his hand away. *

Can't have the doctors, they'll just tell admin before shipping me off for going insane--

You're not—! You're sick! You're sick and I—I-I need someone who knows sickness better . . .

No doctors. There's not one in Cepheus who won't-- certify unfit for duty. After something like this--

They'll never. Never let me back in. Too lightdamned... risky.

Then I'll call for a foreign— What about Red's friend? That Lacerta!

Red's...

* it takes a moment, but he looks up with heavily bloodshot eyes. *

...Feramis...?

Yes. The Lacertan doctor. He knows a lot about illnesses so maybe he can help!

...

If you can find him.

There's not... much choice, is there.