I'm sick as a dog right now, and cannot sleep, so you get some on theme Sick Drifter and Roathe.
Inserting my drifter, Atelier - feel free to add in reblog how it'd go for your drifters, I'd love to know more about ppls ocs!
Does the Drifter even get sick? It's hard to tell. The man's always on the go and barely even rests, and when he does it's always in the strangest places or at the worst moments. Today seemed different. The drifter was paler than normal, seemed washed out and frankly, wiped out. He didn't even great Roathe as he approached, just clambered onto the devil's lap and buried his head into the crook of Roathe's neck. Not comfortable, but the metal of his armour felt cool even through his clothes. Roathe, utterly concerned, has no idea what to do with this. Sure Atelier was BOLD but this was a new level. So Roathe kind of freezes. What's he supposed to do? The drifter's breathing comes as a choked wheeze and he's coughing, trying to cover his mouth the best he can, when Roathe realises that he's just sick and NOT dying.
He'd fuss about it a bit, I presume. Trying to goad information out of Atelier and only receiving muffled huffs and complaints in response.
"Awwh, what's gotten you so unwell my pet? Did you eat something you shouldn't have?"
"Knock it off, Roathe... I think I'm dying... I hurt so bad..." Atelier isn't known to really whine. He complains, yes, but whining was mostly beneath him - unless he was throwing his subject puppy dog eyes and asking ever so politely for what it was he wanted.
"Oh, really? Here I was, thinking you weren't afraid of death. How incorrect I was in my assumption. Do continue lamenting your existance, though, could you do it quietly?"
"I'm not afraid I'm just.. I'm miserable... I can feel my heart beating in my throat and I don't like it."
Roathe's hand combing through Atelier's hair as the man huffed back at him. The devil rolling his eyes. The drifter sinking further against the other's body and curling up as much as he could, trying not to cough or sneeze all over Roathe, and the orokin just baffled what he's supposed to do about it. I mean sure, if he was asked to help or do something he'd do it, but that was kind of impossible whilst the pink haired menace saw fit to use him as a personal bed.
