(no subject)

[poisonwine]

Belle's not doing so well. She hasn't needed to be restrained yet, but neither has she slept.

At all.

Add the rest of her wide variety of symptoms, and she's a very upset assassin.

Currently she's too tired to even curse, and has resigned herself to humming, which is occasionally interrupted by twitching.

Comments

[mogget_cat]

The door to the infirmary opens a little ways, a few inches, then closes again.

Everything is quiet.



But a few moments later, there is a leap, and a soft weight on the bed beside Belle's right hip.

[poisonwine]

Which causes her to shoot up like a gun went off. Her eyes fall on a white cat. "Hi."

Having expended somewhat more energy than she had to spare, Belle flops back down. "Thanks."

[mogget_cat]

"Don't even think about getting up," he says, dry. She's probably not, but still. Some people need reminders.

The white cat pads up the edge of the bed to stretch out by her side.

"How goes it?" He asks, tailtip flicking occasionally against her hip.

[poisonwine]

She puts a sweaty hand on his head, scritching behind his ears. "Lovely."

Her legs spasm, and she sneezes violently. "Fuckin' weird symptoms."

[mogget_cat]

"I think the weird symptoms would cut out any possibility of it being lovely," he says, purring with his eyes half-shut.

"Do you know when they will pass?"

[poisonwine]

"Week, mebe two. Worst should pass in a couple days."

Her hands keep twitching, but she valiantly tries to continue scritching him. After all, it was something to do, and helped immensely with the not freaking out and killing people.

[mogget_cat]

He purrs, encouraging this effort. "That is good. It may seem slow going, but it will pass. You are strong."

Purring not'cats are the anti-freaking out and killing people medicine.

[thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com]

He'd gotten his note the day before, and had stayed away for a while.

But only a short while, so it was sometime, after he'd finished his shift of mostly sitting around in the Delicate Flowers' lobby that Remy padded into the infirmary, quiet, just in case there were others he might disturb, dragging the chair that much closer to the bed before settling, not sure if she was asleep or not.

[poisonwine]

That would be a no. "Tolja not t' come." Despite herself, she smiled at him.

[thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com]

He shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, as it was prone to doing, "Oui. An' I didn'. Right 'way."

Because apparently that was important.

[poisonwine]

Belle shook her head. "What'm I goan do wichu, cheri?"

The smile had gone away, but mostly due to the fact that it took far too much energy to maintain. She reached for a nearby cup, drinking about half of its contents.

[thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com]

He shrugged, "Same as y'always do I s'pose. Not'in's changed t'at much, has it?"

[poisonwine]

She shrugged. "Not dat I know of. 'Cept fo' bein' dumb 'n' comin' here, y' been keepin' outta," a large yawn interrupted her here, "trouble?"

[1st_starfighter]

He heard about his new friend being in the infirmary, and found himself headed that way, wanting to be sure she was okay. So it is a hesitant Alex who peers in.

[poisonwine]

It's a curious assassin who stares back. "'lo"

[1st_starfighter]

"Um... I heard you were in here and... wanted to check and see you were okay."

He blushes slightly and shrugs a bit. He steps a little closer.

"What happened?"

[poisonwine]

She sighs. "My old boss kept us addicted to drugs so we'd keep her in power. Luckily it turned out less effective than she'd hoped, but now we have to deal with the withdrawal."

[1st_starfighter]

He stares, then swears, mildly, mind you, as he doesn't know much, but still it is with real venom, and a desire to string her old boss up by... something sharp and painful.

"Son of a bitch! Are you going to be okay?"

The only kind of drug withdrawal he has heard of was heroine, and the only person he knew who tried, died. So, the look he turns on her is not so mildly worried.

[poisonwine]

"Oui. 'S bad, but not'in' I can't handle."

Belle fails to mention that she made sure her old boss had died. It seems tasteless at this point. "Take a seat, if y' want."

[weighted-wishes.livejournal.com]

There wasn't an addiotion to the humming, no, but there was a small weight settled on the edge of the bed, rocking as if small legs were kicking back and forth. "Tante Matte hum dat" a young voice noted.

[poisonwine]

Belle glanced up. "Oui. She does. Y' older dis time."

Not that it mattered, since he was still at least a decade younger than the man who'd visited her earlier. "Gotcher necklace."

[weighted-wishes.livejournal.com]

He didn't comment on his age, just flashed a sly smile that in a few years would be devestating, but for now was just endearing.

"S'pose to chere" he noted happily. "Found dat t'ing c'n help..."

[poisonwine]

She nodded. "Well, I di'n' t'in' y' were hidin' it."

Maybe she's just having a really weird dream? It's entirely possible. She figured that her senses weren't to be trusted at this particular moment.

[weighted-wishes.livejournal.com]

"Non" he agreed cheerfully.

"Losin' t'aint cha?" he sighed, reaching out nimble fingers to stroke her forehead "De t'inkin part..."

[poisonwine]

"Lost." She noted, somewhat sadly. Or, rather, more sad than her previous tone of voice. "F'r de best, can't imagine what I'd do if I still had it, considerin' de state I'm in."

She sneezed, her body jerking up from the bed with the force.