[MINGLE] Worried/Sick 1: Symptoms Manifest & Reaction

[sixthiteration]

WHERE: Anywhere; multiple locations
WHEN: Apx. 13-18 November
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Serious illness and reactions to such

IMPORTANT NOTES: This is the first of two mingles. Please see the timing and general event details here.

Illness Presents and Putting Heads Together will have their own top-levels in this post, but you may make separate top-levels for whatever you like! Anything is welcome, as long as it tangentially relates to the Worried/Sick plot.

Please keep in mind the established plot details, but creative license is welcome and encouraged as long as it doesn't step on toes.

Comments

[spoileralert]

“I’m not gonna-“ she starts in protest, but the more she moves around the more she has to admit she does feel a little dizzy. Has her fever gotten worse? It wasn’t so bad when she went outside to try and exercise. She groans.

“Ugh, fine. Just to the hospital.” She slips a hand into the pocket that holds her throwing knives. She never leaves home without a weapon. If he tries anything the least bit suspicious she can do a fair amount of damage even in her current state.

[killorder]

"Thank you for not fighting me," he murmurs, knowing that had she fought, he likely would have let her go and taken off. Yet he knew that she needs the hospital.

"And thank you for going. I don't like how this thing is going," he admits in a low voice, not wanting to worry her.

[spoileralert]

She doesn't really like to stab people without good reason, and he hasn't quite given her that reason yet. Stabbing is just so much easier than fist-fighting...

"What - thing?" she managed to ask between coughs. "It's - maybe the flu at worst."

[killorder]

"Yeah well, in the right countries? The flu is an epidemic," he points out, thinking about countries without clean water, without vaccination, and this place is much too close in so many ways.

"And it can still kill," he adds, shaking his head, not liking that idea in the least. "Why I want them to look at you."

[spoileralert]

“We’re not dumping waste in the streets,” she points out, her voice weak from the cough. She raises a hand to rub at her temple. It doesn’t help.

“We have... fever reducers, right?”

[killorder]

"But we're also living with things we don't understand," he notes, moving carefully not to jostle her too much.

"I think so, yeah. I'm sure they've got something to help."

And he really hopes they do.

[spoileralert]

She tries to articulate an answer, but it mostly comes out as tired mumbling. It's hard to focus when she aches all over.