another side blog. main/follows from @room-on-broom. avatar icon thingies by @teapotteringabout. Anderson/ supermarionation, TAG, tb2004, and all that jazz.
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"I I'm f- fine." Phones tried. His crewmates turned to look skeptically down at him. Troy from the door way; right above him really given the now small Stingrays bunk rooms were, even if Stingrays were very spatious for a sub. Marina was sat on Phones' other side, her face pinched. She shook her head.
"I'll be fine." he corrected trying not to mumble. "It's not so bad. Looks worse."
"You're a crummy liar." Troy said.
Marina nodded feeling Phones' forehead again and made to swap out the damp washcloth for a fresh cooler one. Phones heard a clink sound and vaguely remembered the bowl of Ice and water as rung out out the cloth. It felt real nice. Phones tried to hold back a groan and wasn't sure he'd been successful.
"R E D." Marina said in finger spell, indicating his flushed face. "B A D."
"Yeah." Troy frowned harder. "You defitly shouldn't have come with us, brother. Not if you were feeling sick?" he continued taking his wrist and timing the pulse. "I've half a mind to call the commander. We can't stay on Autopilot forever. Misson or not."
"Ah no Troy. It's just-?" Phones started. he'd nearly said "Probably a bug or a cold."
but his teeth started to chatter.
he then gasped and flinched hard. Marina had put a stethoscope agaisnt his chest.
"Gee a little warning!" he complained and coughed. A cough that neatly became a coughing fit. Marina moved to dab at his fore head again. Then drew back sharply in alarm.
"Whu-?" Phones blinked. His friends were looking at him in horror. But then both leapt in to action before he could ask what had them so scared. They pushed him to lie flat on the bunk. An Oxygen mask was then strapped to his face. It fogged up instantly.
Troy then bolted calling they were heading back to Marineville. Marina nodded wrapping ice up in that second cloth, pressing it firmly agaist Phones' face and neck with a hiss.
"Wait." Phones thought as he felt the sub turn sharply about. "Marina ain't ever hissed-?"
"What goes on?" he tried to ask; not realising it was the ice melting making that sound.
Of Corse Phones was confused.
He couldn't see the way his breath fogged when coughing. or the way faint wifts of steam were rising from his skin...
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With Magenta and/or Ochre? :3 I am forever in need of whump of my boys fghj
Under a cut because swearing.
“FUCK!”
“Yeah, you’re not supposed to do that! Remember what the nice medic lady said?”
“Fuck you, Ochre!”
“Bit busy, Mags.” Pistol in hand, Ochre carefully leaned around the corner of the dilapidated and abandoned manufacturing building and watched for any sign of pursuit.
Currently somewhat useless and in significant pain, Magenta clutched his dislocated right arm and let the decaying brick wall hold him up. Ten-ish minutes ago they’d been on the roof of the nearby office building, checking out some odd additions to the radio mast, then there’d been gunfire, they’d both slipped on the wet, mossy tiles, and caught the edge of the guttering to save themselves, but he’d lost his grip with his left hand, twisted, and dropped the rest of the way (thankfully only one story) to the ground, dislocating his shoulder in the process. Ochre had followed (unharmed) and that was when the gunfire had started. They’d gone for cover, and because he could not for the life of him shoot straight with his off hand, he’d tried to put his shoulder back.
Yes, they all knew how to do it, the nice medic lady back at Koala had taught them because between them they had enough previously dislocated shoulders that they needed to know how to put them back, but he’d never done his shoulder before, and the nice medic lady had specifically told them (with graphic examples) that relocating a first time dislocation was outside their pay grade.
“Okay, I think we’ve lost them.” Ochre turned worried eyes on his shoulder. “Let me take a look at that and get a sling going, then we’ve gotta move.”
Magenta nodded once. A sling, he knew, would work wonders, and might even keep him from accidentally making things worse. “S.I.G.”
Day 1: resentment with Edward Wilkes/Doctor Fawn and Amy other characters of your choice
Under a cut because swearing
The paperwork for his latest experiment in hand, Fawn was doing his best to keep a lid on his excitement about it as he crossed the distance between his office and Scarlet’s usual ward. There’d been a number of failed experiments lately but this one had real promise and if it worked the way he hoped, it’d pry open some of the secrets of retrometabolisim. He knocked twice on the door to Scarlet’s ward, let himself in… and stopped at the threshold, pinned into place by a glare that made the dark side of the moon feel tropical and balmy.
Fawn immediately read the room and acted accordingly. “...I’ll come back later.”
“Thank you.”
Fawn took a step back, shut the door, and rubbed his free hand over his face. This… this was bad, ‘and I can see exactly how and why this has happened… and it’s all my fault.’
A light step beside him and he turned to see Burgundy looking at him with a curious expression. “Ed? What’s wrong?”
Grimacing, Fawn jerked his thumb at the room and its occupant. “I’ve fucked up.”
“What, Scarlet? He’s been grouchy today but…”
“No, no, that wasn’t grouchy in there, Tanya, that was resentment.” He indicated the experiment outline he was still carrying. “I’ve been throwing a lot of these at him lately, trying to catch the data while he’s fresh out of recovery…”
“Oh, and you’ve pushed him too much.” Burgundy matched his grimace, looking at the closed door. “This is still salvageable as long as you still have his trust,” she counselled. “If you’ve still got that he’ll let you try again once he’s had a good break.”
“Key word there is ‘if’.” Fawn pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed himself. Getting the captains to trust him had been a process, a long one. They weren’t impressed by titles or degrees or placements. He’d had to prove his skills to them, give them a way to measure his integrity, and demonstrate that he genuinely cared about them as individuals and their wellbeing. ‘And if I’ve broken that trust with Scarlet by pushing him too much with tests and experiments, I’ll have broken it with all of them. They’re pack animals. Hurt one, hurt all.’ “Tanya, can you…?”
“Take over his care, S.I.G.” Burgundy nodded and pointed at the direction of his office. “Go, I’ve got this.”
"I I'm f- fine." Phones tried. His crewmates turned to look skeptically down at him. Troy from the door way; right above him really given the now small Stingrays bunk rooms were, even if Stingrays were very spatious for a sub. Marina was sat on Phones' other side, her face pinched. She shook her head.
"I'll be fine." he corrected trying not to mumble. "It's not so bad. Looks worse."
"You're a crummy liar." Troy said.
Marina nodded feeling Phones' forehead again and made to swap out the damp washcloth for a fresh cooler one. Phones heard a clink sound and vaguely remembered the bowl of Ice and water as rung out out the cloth. It felt real nice. Phones tried to hold back a groan and wasn't sure he'd been successful.
"R E D." Marina said in finger spell, indicating his flushed face. "B A D."
"Yeah." Troy frowned harder. "You defitly shouldn't have come with us, brother. Not if you were feeling sick?" he continued taking his wrist and timing the pulse. "I've half a mind to call the commander. We can't stay on Autopilot forever. Misson or not."
"Ah no Troy. It's just-?" Phones started. he'd nearly said "Probably a bug or a cold."
but his teeth started to chatter.
he then gasped and flinched hard. Marina had put a stethoscope agaisnt his chest.
"Gee a little warning!" he complained and coughed. A cough that neatly became a coughing fit. Marina moved to dab at his fore head again. Then drew back sharply in alarm.
"Whu-?" Phones blinked. His friends were looking at him in horror. But then both leapt in to action before he could ask what had them so scared. They pushed him to lie flat on the bunk. An Oxygen mask was then strapped to his face. It fogged up instantly.
Troy then bolted calling they were heading back to Marineville. Marina nodded wrapping ice up in that second cloth, pressing it firmly agaist Phones' face and neck with a hiss.
"Wait." Phones thought as he felt the sub turn sharply about. "Marina ain't ever hissed-?"
"What goes on?" he tried to ask; not realising it was the ice melting making that sound.
Of Corse Phones was confused.
He couldn't see the way his breath fogged when coughing. or the way faint wifts of steam were rising from his skin...
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Her head swimming from the aftermath of one of her infrequent but debilitating migraines, Dianne stopped to lean on the arm of the couch in the quarters she now shared with Paul. Their cabin was very dimly lit with only the standby glow of the various electronics, the only sounds were the background hum of the base around them and Paul’s soft breathing, and Dianne was regretting her stubbornness in getting up and looking after herself. ‘Yes, Paul would have happily gotten me a glass of water if I’d woken him up, but I didn’t want to wake him.’ Knowing she’d absolutely earned herself a chiding with her stubbornness but still determined to carry on, Dianne looked in the direction of the bed. Getting back there was entirely possible, she’d gotten out of it and to the kitchen after all, so she could get back to the bed, she just needed to pull herself together!
“Back to bed, love.”
The soft words were accompanied by an equally soft brush of lips against her head, and Dianne let herself be scooped up, carried a handful of steps, then laid down on her side of the bed and the covers pulled back over her. A pause, then the mattress dipped when he climbed in on his side. A little shuffling and shifting as Paul resettled himself and curled his tall frame around her, and Dianne gratefully snuggled into his warmth and his embrace.
One breath, another, and she was drifting back into sleep.
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Left absolutely prostrated by a combination of exhaustion and an unnamed lurgy of the flu-like variety, Paul lay sprawled across his bed, a damp cloth over his eyes, a fan blowing cool air over him, and overall feeling very sorry for himself. He was at the tail end of whatever bug this was, but he wasn’t anywhere near functional yet - which would have been extremely irritating state of being if he was more functional - but he wasn’t, so all he could do was lie here like a lump, wait for the next round of meds or fluids or food, and see what happened next.
The door creaked open.
‘Eh?’
Paul lifted a corner of the cloth just enough to peep out from under it.
A mug carefully held in both hands, Kathryn crossed the floor. The mug - which steamed slightly and smelled like lemon - was placed on his bedside table, then just like he and Dianne would do when she was poorly, Kathryn kissed his forehead and patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Feel better soon, Daddy!” she chirped, then scurried off.
Feeling much less sorry for himself, Paul smiled. His little girl was such a darling.
“I do not need a nap!” Juliette protested through her yawn as Scott steered her through the villa towards their room.
“Yes, you do,” Scott informed her, very careful to keep his smile off his face and out of his voice. He’d never tell Juliette or anyone else, but she was absolutely adorable when she was like this. “Just one hour of shut-eye, you’ll have plenty of prep time for the meeting.”
“Non!”
“Oui!”
“The schedule I kept on Cloudbase, it was far more demanding!” she stubbornly insisted as he guided her inside and made her sit on the edge of the bed.
“Your Cloudbase schedule included regular use of Room of Sleep tech,” Scott informed her as he helped her out of her knee-high boots, “and it didn’t include a 2am wake up for an emergency meeting in London, followed by a ‘could have been an email’ meeting in Madrid with a lot of male egos that needed soothing, followed by a storm on the way home, with a pending video call with the aero-design team in Canberra this evening.” He put the boots away, fetched her bathrobe from its hook and handed it to her. “Shower, nap, dinner, then meeting. I’ll review your notes and get everything set up for you.”
She affected a pout at him, a smile flickering around the edges. “Scott Tracy, you are très obstiné.”
This time he did smile as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Yes, yes I am, mon ange.”
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