deercountry | (no subject)

[Oh, that's lovely, although it makes him briefly tangle up a mess of thoughts about whether or not "sick" is an emotion, oh no-- Which more or less muddles through as a vague confusion. He reaches for Viktor's hand on his head and holds it... and leaves it there... hi.]

It was that dinner; I've got diplomatic immunity against trying new foods for a month now. Where's the notebook? First symptom: I'm up in the air.

[Where is Rio, he's waving his other hand for her now. Rio, come here, he's totally fine.]

[a good thing they didn't do the physical bond, really, aside from the fact they both have bodies that hate them a little. viktor can't help a small snort, though fine.]

One month, that is is. How else am I supposed to entertain myself otherwise? [but he'll reluctantly move away with another kiss to pal's temple to get the notebook in question, it's probably right there on the bedstand anyway knowing them. just reach into the drawer for one of the millions of pens taken from their rightful owners.

rio puts her front paws? lizard feet? up on the bed and stands on her hindlegs to nose worriedly at pal as viktor cracks open the notebook and says,] She could keep you from floating. [well, he's right. she does love lying on pal.] What about general aches and pains? Nausea?

You'll find a way. Use your month to plan something truly dastardly.

[Like, soup with a lot of little things in it, so he can explain how he doesn't trust food he can't see, again. He laughs, then coughs, then makes a face. Yuck. Then he sort of drift-rolls onto his side to squish Rio's big beloved face, while Viktor readies the notebook.]

She can come up here if she really wants to, [so he's not too sick to coo at Rio, write that down.] Nausea: yes, immensely. I might need an emergency bucket just in case. Aches... hmm; moderate. Oh—

[Oh, he is rising a little higher up in the air, there he goes.]

Ah, a very good point. I will have so much time to perfect a recipe you'll truly hate. [so fond. he's thinking of some sort of bread with a million kinds of fruit or nuts baked in, or something that requires a special fork to manage. pal will love it.

rio immediately climbs up though when given permission, making viktor roll his eyes but start jotting this down. her alarmed trill when pal starts moving up higher has viktor glance up and move over, making the attempt to... catch him? or grasp his shoulder at least to discourage hitting the ceiling.]

Thank gods you weren't outside when this started. Very well, first thing we're going to do is try to push you back down and hope Rio can keep you from floating away on me.

[and rio shifts to the end of the bed so viktor can attempt to do just that with all his stickbug strength. here's to hoping.]

Write up a copy for me to present with the result; I'll be bringing my red pen.

[They'll make a whole event out of it, Palamedes miserably eating Weird Bread and writing his notes sadly in the margins... delightful. That almost makes him less sick to his stomach, ironically, in the exact way that bobbing up in the air further doesn't.

Ah-] Hold on, what if it's catching? [Like Viktor hasn't already been smooching him, if they both wind up sick it's not his fault, ahem,] Viktor—

[He is... way too nauseous for this to be as cute and fun as the last time they floated around on purpose, and he's starting to get warm to the touch with who knows what kind of minor fever, but he still manages to grab a handful of bedsheet and help pull himself back down... with effort... a few wheezes...]

This is ridiculous. Will you still love me if I turn into a kite?

Palamedes. [viktor answers as he struggles to push pal back down. something something sex joke here probably. sadly it's not very horny at all, stickbugs lose again.] Even if I did- [an annoyed grunt. what having muscle mass.] -did catch it I'd probably do annoying paleblood quirks.

Which at the moment feel preferable to losing you to the ceiling. [hey he's down, and rio immediately plops her head on pal's chest. finally, what she's been training for. viktor lets out a little sigh and runs a hand through pal's hair.] Yes, I would. It would make matters very awkward though so attempt to stay in a vaguely human shape.

The extra eyes were fine. [monsterfucker. just a little smirk down and a kiss close to the lips to make his point.]

[Stickbugs unsexily suffering, the price of love, really. Palamedes assists with his feeble pulling, letting out an 'oof!' when Rio plops her head on him. He lifts a hand to rest on her head fondly, waiting a moment before he speaks again - to see if being Rio-squished is less nauseating than hovering up in the air.

It seems like it, so far. Best girl Rio does it again. He hums, closing his eyes and leaning his head that little bit into Viktor's touch, pleasantly soothed.]

I'll do my best to maintain my shape, number of eyes unspecified. [ha ha, golly,] Forget about taking down my symptoms; playing with my hair is all I need.

[..............well,] I'm kidding, of course. Keep those notes close.

[He grimaces briefly through a wave of nausea, then,] What paleblood mishaps do you think you'd catch?

[thank god, he's not about to lose his husband to the sky. viktor grabs the notebook and pen again from wherever he tossed them to deal with floating, taking a seat on the bed and setting up so the notebook is in his lap, leaving one hand free for writing and one for hair petting.

the power.] At least you aren't sweating darkblood. Do you want water? [hydration is important, he's heard. in legends and myths.]

Hm... walking into someone's dreams, maybe? Reading minds? Paleblood is so irritating.

[The husband skills on display here, truly remarkable... Later, Palamedes will reflect that this was a great use of his time and in fact being sick was perfectly acceptable, and he should be sick more often for further study.]

No, I only need you. [and he wants to feel a greater percentage less disgusting before he drinks even plain water, whew.] Sweating darkblood would only happen if I tried to use necromancy, I think.

[...He's thinking about trying necromancy, now... Better not.]

One of those you could avoid by drinking your awful coffee, at least. If you start hearing thoughts, let me know. We'll collaborate on notes.

Cute. We'll save the water for a little while. [he is merciful. maybe soon he'll no longer be a literal flight risk and make sitting up to drink that water possible.

and because they're both nightmares:] I wonder how your necromancy would respond to you like this. [a pause.] Likely best not to find out. [but it would be interesting.

get hair petting instead, and a chuckle.] Don't insult my coffee, it's the only joy I have in life aside from you. [an annoyed trill.] And Rio. What about pain, are you in any?

Thanks. I'm doing my best not to put anything else in my body, which I think I've earned. [Like, he just has to be honest about this. It's a grim win. Maybe necromancy can cure nausea... if he just, like, reached into his own stomach with thanergy and...

No. Better not. Maybe later. He hums, shutting his eyes.]

I feel— oversensitive? All over. Although not in a fun way. My skin hurts, I suppose. It may shock you to learn that there aren't many instances of foodborne illnesses on the Sixth, which means— I'm making history.

[ha ha. but like, technically.]

I'm afraid water will have to happen sooner rather than later, but you'll finally have a proper excuse to avoid dinner. [definitely a questionable win, but a win nonetheless. sort of.

he jots that down though, hand still idly through pal's hair.] I find that hard to believe, given those... what were they, crackers? In the waiting room. [his only visit to the sixth, and that's most of what he remembers. bad snacks.]

Maybe I'll call your little workers and see if this is something going around. You don't think it was the party, do you?

I'm avoiding dinner with bells on, thank you.

[One giant leap for Palkind... He furrows his brow with his eyes still closed, which is either for the Sixth or for the little workers, or both!]

Now, I absolutely think it was the party, of course. Did you see what I ate? Three pink fizzy drinks in and I was paying far less attention than I should have, which! [he holds up a finger, which!!!!!] —is one drink more than last year. You're a bad influence.

[Ha... Honestly, it's more likely Viktor's insistence that he eats real meals and doesn't just shovel down the bare minimum amount of raw nutrients that's made him less of a lightweight more than anything else; he might still rock that necromancer physique, but he's not starvation-thin anymore. A positive.

But also date nights at the Red.]

Circling back: what was wrong with the biscuits in the waiting room?

[do people not just leave their chalky husks pretending to be cookies out there to dry out even further. what's wrong with this.]

[like a horrible traitor viktor smiles both smugly and fondly at remembering pal going as far as three pink drinks.] We should go back to the Earworm when you are well, I want to see if I can get you up to four next year.

[but ok, focus.] Hm, I'll message some of the people I saw at the party to see how they're feeling later. If this lingers more than a day or two we may need to be concerned.

[and he'd rather not be, life is exhausting enough, thanks.]

It is tragic that you ask me that. [a sigh] The only thing worse is that nonsense you have to use instead of paper. [and the whole horrible empire shit but we're keeping things light here.]

[Three pink drinks... Worth it, as long as those drinks don't turn out to be what's laid him out like this. But he feels more sick to his stomach than hungover - and he knows what a hangover feels like, thanks as well to Viktor, so. Ideally not. It would be a shame to lose the fizzy pink drinks.]

The work is never done. [that's for fizzy drink training,] Let me know. I can say with certainty that it doesn't feel like corruption, at least. I doubt some individual at the party would have done something as sinister as outright poison the food— but it was absolutely the food.

[Cursed bite-sized, portable snacks... he has so few tolerable foods as is...

Anyway, hey? He laughs, which brings on a wave of sickly discomfort, but hey!!]

I don't disagree! If I never have to see a sheet of flimsy again, it will be too soon. You'd still have gone wild for our library.

Edited (i can't repeat icons, what am i an amateur) 2023-01-19 15:15 (UTC)

[he actually will pull out his omni and send some messages- jason, chizuru, jinx. varying levels of trust but at that same party he and jinx agreed to start fresh so it felt a little less absurd.

and being proactive made him feel better as well. it was probably nothing, some quick illness, but it might not be. viktor's hand runs through pal's hair again as he resolves not to fall into anxiety over worst case scenarios.]

Given how odd the pthumerians have been perhaps this is related. [ding ding ding!]

I know I would have. I did get to see some of the poetry. [ah young pal. his lips quirk and there's another attempt at sending comfort over.] Well, since you're lying here we can consider what other matters you never had a chance to experience for the list. Fireworks, loud and annoying parties, getting sick after them.

[what a life.]

[The true test of Empire breeding programs: is Palamedes' feeble necromancer body equipped with a heartier immune system or an absolute trash one after ten thousand years of living in a tin can on Mercury. Or, is it a magic flu, and will he be fine tomorrow morning. Who can say.

But he's content to just lie here in the meantime and watch Viktor send his texts and radiate saccharine feelings about how much he loves this nerd. It doesn't feel good to exist right now, objectively? But it feels good to be taken care of, so all told: he's pretty happy with this morning. Enjoy that wobbly wave of gay emotions.]

Do we still have that vial of Remina's blood?

[Somewhere, yes... should he like, drink it. No. That would be a bad idea, certainly. But like should he drink it though.]

That whole bit of the list makes a good case for growing up in a hermetically sealed can. [Viktor's list of experiences is his favorite sappy callback, though, so!!] I think one day I'd like to go on a vacation.

[being sappy while he's trying to text. his lip quirks and he sends some of those feelings right back- as it turns out he's much more comfortable doing that through the bond than being outwardly sappy, so it happens a lot. you know, just how precious pal is to him, that sort of thing.]

Jinx is sick but Chizuru isn't, I saw them both at the party. Jinx is having similar eh... hiccups with her powers. [so that did help explain things. at least they had a potential lead.] We do. Why?

[do you want to drink it... or test it, that too.] We also may have samples of Madam Generosity's now. Scales found with what might be her blood in it.

[ah, a far more fun conversation.] Well, we have a single city's worth of places to choose from. Or simply staying at the Red and calling it a vacation.

[wao, the ideal sappy feelings delivery system, truly marriage is a magical thing...]

It just occurred to me; their blood is meant to have more advanced properties than ours, isn't it? If this sickness is ultimately rooted in some alternative manifestation of corruption— as opposed to germs— then, you know.

[He waves a hand, like, yeah he will drink some weird blood, if he must. Jinx's power problems are, he thinks, a good sign, actually - something that points towards Trench Sickness and not Real Disease. It's too specific of a symptom, surely...

So hold onto those scales, too?? Vacation, though.]

They're going to hang our pictures up behind the bar at the Red one of these days. That sounds fantastic to me.

I won't say I'm not intrigued. [who doesn't love just drinking the blood of old gods to see what happens?] You have a point, untainted pthumerian blood likely would have a positive effect, if tales are to be believed about it's properties.

Lately? I would not say so. The blood I examined from the scales concerns me.

[ah, the dream of being kicked out of the red properly. yes he is smiling. it'd be funny enough to be worth it.] Get better and we'll plan it. Maybe a weekend after this pollution research slows.

I'm going to tell you two things, and know that I mean them both with utmost sincerity despite how rampant my hypocrisy will seem. Ready—

[And he takes a moment to cough into his elbow, actually, first, oops. But give him a moment to settle his whole self and reach to grip Viktor's fingers with his other hand, hey. Okay.

Ahem:] First thing: don't work too hard. You've been stressed; maybe an early weekend?

[And, also,] Second: tell me everything about the scale blood, with footnotes.

I look forward to it. [here he is on the edge of his seat to hear hypocrisy. oh, doesn't like the coughing though, have a squeeze when pal takes his hand. fucking trench food poisoning.

the first point gets a soft snort, one that's a proper bark of a laugh at the second. he leans over, lips to pal's temple.

anyway.] Fine. Being sick gives you an edge there. [like he'd say no otherwise, he can be stubborn but given the bond he can't exactly argue with pal on these things. kind of freeing.

the rest has him settling back a bit.] I'll show you later, but there were oddities when under the microscope. A black film and a vivid red I can't quite pin down. The black substance lifted when oil from those mushrooms Nevermind wanted was applied, but the red remained.

[Ah, he is so spoiled, as always this will only encourage him to keep doing more of the same.]

I'll endeavor to be less sick. For the early weekend.

[And so he doesn't have to roll around in his misery for the next x days, but still. The weekend. The vacation... sublime.]

We're getting into holistic mushroom medicine territory, are we? I miss when I could solve any problem with enough time to think about it and a few spare pieces of flesh. [necromancers only have the one solution to all their problems, so,] This red— not just blood?

And so you do not float away on me. [or something equally magic nonsense, really. ah, darkblood.

vacation is something to look forward to that isn't bullshit at least, which he's pretty sure he hasn't taken in, hm, ever. the power of having a whole life outside work, wild right.]

Eh, less holistic and more unexplained old magics, as far as I can tell, though you're close. Think of it this way, now the spare pieces of flesh have been swapped for blood. Always blood. [sick of it, really!] Not blood, at least the makeup is nothing like it. If I had to guess I would pin it firmly under 'magic bullshit.'

You'd think I'd be an expert in not floating away by now.

[Are they not all Total Experts in blood powers. Sheesh, who wouldn't be after this long. Anyway, his pound of flesh... give it back, Trench, please.]

It's always blood, but this time, it's not blood? I'm going to need a new red pen for this round of magic bullshit. Once I can stay grounded, I'd like to have a look at it. I promise not to sneeze on your work table.