[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

[oorah]

The question gets a bit of a start from Frank. The croc-dog at his heel lets out a reptilian little squeak like he'd also been surprised, but Frank's already patting down his pockets. For once, he actually doesn't think he has any liquor on him, but then Vasquez is falling and he reaches forward to try and catch him by the shoulder.

"Maybe... that isn't what you need right now." His voice is soft, but caring, hand firm on the other man's arm so he doesn't topple completely to the ground.

[quinientos]

Vasquez gapes at the man, then the dog, wondering just how out of his head he is, because he thinks he's seeing things. Otherwise, what else is a lizard doing with a dog's body? What is this insanity?

Maybe he's further gone than he thought.

"I think it's everything I need," he counters. "Because I'm seeing things," he says, gesturing to the animal at the ground, swaying a little as he gets on steady feet.

[oorah]

Frank isn't about to argue with him, he would have given him booze if he had any on him. As it is, he turns to see what Vasquez is pointing at, but leaves a hand on him in case he goes down again.

"What, Bruno?" The croc-dog leaps up into Frank's arms when his name is called, giving Vasquez a look like he expects attention of some kind. Frank has to let go of him to keep the dog from falling, it's all very slapstick. "He's definitely real. You okay?"

[quinientos]

"I don't think I'm thinking so right," Vasquez admits, and it's not just his wariness about whether the dog-thing is real. His head is throbbing wildly and he thinks that there's definitely something going on. He's very hot, feeling like he's sweating.

Squinting at the man, he tries to understand why he's draped on him. "Did you bring me some alcohol? I think I'm sick, I need to drink it away."

[oorah]

He tucks the dog under one arm while he pats Vasquez on the shoulder with the other.

"Come on, I've got some at home." As well as actual remedies he'll probably force on the man, you know, but he doesn't have to tell him that.

[quinientos]

Vasquez has a staring contest with the dog. It's probably not the wisest thing to do, but he's staring at an animal lizard-dog and it's staring back. He brightens, though, at the promise of liquor.

"Good," he says forcefully, because he wants to burn this out of his throat and head and stomach, and alcohol is the best way to do it. "Do you really let the creature stay with you? And does it always look like that or am I hallucinating?"

[oorah]

"Yeah," he answers for both questions, frowning as he leans his arm against Vasquez's so he'll have some support as he starts leading him back to good ol' House Six. "You've really never seen a croc-dog before?"

[quinientos]

"Not when my head feels like it wants to implode," Vasquez protests, trying to understand what it is that he's looking at, but the creature is very, very strange. He inhales and then keeps walking. "It's not a dog? It's what this word you use?"

English isn't his first language and sometimes, he's not very strong in it, like right now.

[oorah]

"No, it's not a dog. It's one of the creatures from this place. He's friendly," Frank tacks on, to be safe. "I call 'em croc-dogs, cause their faces look like crocodiles?" Wait, he knows this one. "Cocodrilo?"

[quinientos]

That's better, because otherwise, Vasquez was just going to keep spiraling with a lot of English names he didn't know, so lucky for him, his new acquaintance fixes that. "And you? What are you named?" Not that he's anywhere near as intimidating or strange as the animal, but it's best to know people, he's found.

[oorah]

He's racking his brain for the Spanish version of 'Frank." It's probably just Francis, isn't it? But then he thinks of something better.

"Pancho." Hot dog. Somehow, he always feels more like himself when he gets to introduce himself that way. And okay, he's hoping it'll be a good distraction, or at least amuse the other man.

[quinientos]

Vasquez squints at him some more, not understanding really what that word is either, or having ever heard it as a name, but he shrugs, willing to go with it. He's learned that this place is more modern than it looks, in the people.

"Okay, Pancho. In that case, lead me somewhere safe. I need to lie down and not be vertical anymore," he gripes.

[oorah]

Or Vasquez could just take him seriously again and he could unwittingly give himself another dumb nickname he didn't intend to. Nailed it, Castle. Every time.

"Have you tried the Spring?" He's still leading him in the vague direction of his house and he has an extra bed the man can rest in for a while, but he's wondering if the Spring wouldn't be a better option with how bad he looks.

[quinientos]

Vasquez tries to think if he did, but he shakes his head and wonders if he's making up memories. He's been to the spring, but was that today? Or was that another time, stripping off all his clothes? He squints, trying to make sense of it all, but nothing really settles.

"We should try," he says stubbornly, because maybe he didn't get a chance to try it. Maybe that will heal him, the way he's been needing.

[oorah]

Frank sighs, getting an arm more solidly around Vasquez so he can steer him in the opposite direction. He's acquiring an even greater appreciation for Claire Temple. Shepherding sick people sucks. "Alright, amigo. This way though."