04 | voice/written/action | Kidnap shifts are a bitch, and I hate 'em.

[fuckthemission]

[June 9th (Nighttime)]

[Doyle returns from the mission and hopes distantly that the shift placed on him would be gone. It is not, and he's got an insignificant wound that probably needs a few stitches and something to disinfectant. He basically makes a beeline for his place, locks himself up (and may run into people along the way, despite his attempts to be sneaky). He'll just have to wait for it to wear off.

Yeah.]

[Voice]

Can anyone do me a favor? Probably a doctor at the clinic--I need, uh. A kit for stitching up minor injuries, things like that? Something to disinfect a wound? I'm not really in a position to go down to the clinic... If we can arrange somewhere to pick it up, I'd really owe ya.

[If you're in Community Housing 7, you might feel a phantom heat passing through the Floor 3 hallway. Also if you're Doyle's neighbors or you're above or below his room, sorry about the weird heat that seems to bounce around your place. :|]

[June 10th]

[It's getting worse. He's feeling a lot more restricted, a lot more like he's drowning in peak summer heat. Started sweating more; he takes nightly walks like he does sometimes, though more-so to escape how his room smothers him. Eventually, though, he starts to realize that he can't go to the grocery store, or the restaurant, or the item shop. Or the middle of the plaza. Frankly, he realizes he's just shoving heat in people's faces wherever he's at.

There's some joke to be made about making people want to take their clothes off, but he's too tired to amuse it. He temporarily stays in an empty house further back from any people, just until this wears off. Needs food, though. Going to the grocery shop isn't going to work out. At all.

A while later, an anonymous person pens in this handwriting:]

[Written / Anonymous]

I'm stuck in a predicament, and I kinda' need food. If anyone can drop some off at the house I'm staying in, I'd really appreciate it--and I'd owe you one. Just on the doorstep, and I can do the rest.

[If people do decide to help out, he'd appreciate it. He even pens the house number. Just don't be alarmed if you help, or even if you just walk by, that something unceremoniously warm is seeping through the walls of the house. He's got the air on, the fans on, and he's still not feeling too relaxed.

He also goes out and sits at the lake. By the time he's there for an hour, two, he sits in the water and feels some semblance of relief for once.]

[June 11th]

[Fucking hell. Fuck.

He's given up on shirts. He's drinking a lot of water, too. Been sitting in the shower at the unspecified house until he prunes up. It offers a little relief. Not a whole lot. When it starts to rain he goes outside, goes back to the lake, sits in the water, in the rain; he hasn't gotten sick from it yet, so he's not about to stop.

When the rain clears up, he drags himself onto the shore and lays there. He feels too hot. He's going to burn up--they're going to burn him all up, aren't they, those assholes?

Too hot... Ugh... Too hot.

It's raining and overcast and he's laying here suffocating in heat.

What were the odds.]


((ooc: basically anyone within a 10-foot radius will feel like they're in a really hot desert that will progressively get worse the closer they go; the heat is stifling and hard to be around. Another 10 feet after that, there's a mild heat that'll probably be more recognizable on the rainy days. Touching him'll make you feel like you're being burned. Also to note, it only effects living things. So no actual hot objects. :|b

It'll go away before anything gets too intense for him, but he's a little freaked out and anxious and all that.))

Comments

/lurks

[mikangirl]

I can bring you food.

[She wants to get out of the house, anyway. Guy's probably got the flu or something.]

[Written/Anonymous] hey that's my job

[fuckthemission]

[That was quick. You don't have something to do, in this very busy place?

He's not gonna question it, because he's starving.]

You can bring anything, I could eat dirt at this point.




But bread or fruit would be nicer.

[Voice--> Action] ALSO MINE I'm a thief gawd

[mikangirl]

[Oh Nami has plenty to do. Dropping past a house isn't going to take her more than a couple minutes on her way to visit...Barnaby...8|]

Fruit, I can definitely manage. I'll be by within the next half hour.

[Hope you're a fan of mikan BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE GETTING. No okay, she'll bring you a variety, though mikan make up a large portion of it. >> Twenty minutes later she'll be by with a basket of the stuff plus a loaf of bread, picked up direct from the store.]

[action]

[vor]

[There's no announcement. Just a rustle at the door, then a knock. If Doyle opens the door, there will be a bag of takeout with two dinners in boxes--one steak, one vegetarian. He might see Gregor's back as the man walks away, not waiting to see who it is.]

[written/anonymous]

[fuckthemission]

[No problem, Gregor; Doyle appreciates the quick and efficient nature. Actually, he recognizes you from the roster through his window, from the last mission. Can even find your journal through his own to pen out another message in that familiar, heavy handwriting.]

Thanks; it was really damn good. Hope it wasn't too much trouble for ya.

[Yeah, even with an outgoing personality, he still has creeper moments.]

[written]

[vor]

No trouble. You're welcome.

June 9 / voice / doctor call if that's ok

[geniustheveil]

[Ami's voice comes out a bit brusque as she turns businesslike, though concern lingers behind it.]

This is Ami Mizuno, one of the clinic doctors. I'm gathering some things right now to come. Please tell me exactly where you are and more details.

June 9 / voice / no prob!

[fuckthemission]

[Oh, a doctor. That's groovy.]

Hey, doc. I'm at Community Housing 7, room 12. Third floor.

It's nothing too bad; I've got a shallow injury about 3 1/2, maybe 4 inches long. It's not bleeding too much, but it's definitely needing some stitches. Jagged blade did it, from the last mission I was on.

But right now, I'm under a shift effect, so coming to the clinic won't work out.

[Voice]

[geniustheveil]

I'm on my way now. [With bandages and supplies for stitches. It'll be a bit tricky to have to make a house call, but she's confident she can handle such a routine procedure.]

Could you describe the shift effect, please? I want to be informed before I arrive so I can begin your treatment promptly.

[voice] June 9th

[herd_effect]

[Will's not at the village clinic at this time of night, but he's never one to ignore someone asking for a doctor over the network. Besides, he has like four first aid kits in his apartment--he doesn't even need to run up to the clinic to get one. And that voice does sound familiar...]

I'll bring one over to you. Where are you right now?

[voice] June 9th

[fuckthemission]

Community Housing 7, Room 12. If you feel some weird kind of heat wafting through the door, it's just me turning into a damn human sauna.

[He peers at the journal. Oh, you!]

Hey, doc. Long time no see.

[voice] June 9th

[herd_effect]

[Oh geez, he's injured and feverish? Here's hoping that he didn't contract some nasty infection. Will fears he might have to drag the guy back to the clinic yet.]

Okay. I'll be there shortly. [He smiles, his tone lightening a little.] Hi. Did your arm heal all right?

June 10 [Written]

[no_compromise]

[The message is scrawled out in a cramped but strangely neat hand--as if the tools themselves were too small for the user.

Viral was curious about how this function worked.]

Where's your location?

[Brisk, businesslike. The beastman was tired of hearing how hungry people were. Maybe this would give him an excuse to go shoot down a deer...]

June 10 [Written / Anonymous]

[fuckthemission]

[He scribbles out the house number, as well as a really simple map of where it is compared to the village center.]

Temporarily staying at this house here, until my shifting problems go away.

[oh hey wait, I know you, too

SO MANY PEOPLE I KNOW]

If it's not too much trouble.

June 10 [Written / Anonymous--->Action]

[no_compromise]

It's none. I'll be there soon.

[Viral closes the book at this point and heads into the village proper to gather the food. Within the hour he arrives at the location with a loaf of bread, two apples, and take out from one of the restaurants. He asked for something hearty, but didn't recognize the dish that was brought out. It was some sort of stew, but heavy with tomatoes and with a spicy scent that he was unfamiliar with.

Regardless, it would do.

He raps once, twice on the door, but remains out of curiosity. The strange heat he felt emanating from within was a welcome change from the extremely wet weather he faced regularly since coming to Luceti. Being from a desert, any rain is extremely wet conditions for him]

[action] June 11th

[stillplaying]

[She had seen his journal entry a couple of days ago. Had seen and listened. Looked at the responses and then, quickly, decided that she was better off not answering. How many times had she fled her mother's kitchen back in Twelve? Unable to deal with the sight or smell of the sick and injured? She'd be of no use to Rick right now. No use to anyone, really.

What she doesn't expect, though, is to see him by the lake that morning. It shouldn't be much of a surprise. It's a place that, in some ways, is slowly becoming their place. When she sees him in the water, despite the rain, she can't help it. She laughs.

Even if it sort of makes sense. No reason not to go for a swim. Not in this weather.]

[action] June 11th

[fuckthemission]

[He blinks, his back turned to the laugh—that'd be Katniss, yep—and rubs his tired face with water before he turns. She'll still far back enough that maybe she won't notice how smothering this heat is. He knows she knows--about the fire problem. This will just be a worrying kind of thing.

Not that he's not panicking a lot on the inside. He's had a few panic attacks at the house over this, when he thinks he feels the temperature rising up over him. In the water, it's not so bad. He can handle it.

He smiles up at her. She probably feels warmer by now.

He'll keep at this distance in the water.]

Of course you're here—I half-expect you in a tree every time I come out.

Doing some usual scouting?

voice;

[alloys]

[Two very strange things happen when Tony hears this voice--he knows it's familiar from Luceti. But it's pretty damn familiar from his own world, too. Someone he knows. But Clint Barton wasn't in Luceti. He would have remembered that.

Wouldn't he have? Or someone with his face. It'd happened to Tony himself. A practical doppelganger.

Strange things afoot at the Circle K...]

Yeah, I need a name check from you real fast. Oh--and I'm sure people are just throwing themselves at you about the first aid kit thing. People love doing that sort of thing around here.

[He is the least helpful person ever.]

voice;

[fuckthemission]

[... Huh. He just. Lays back, giving up on life.]

Forget me already, Robby? That hurts a lot. After all the drinks we've been through.

[Written]

[faithfulflame]

[Rei's handwriting is quite calligraphic, and she responds without so much as a thought]

Of course I can bring you food. Where should I bring it? And whats wrong?

[Written / Anonymous]

[fuckthemission]

[Oh--you. He pauses for a moment before replying.]

Actually, we met before and I had the same problem--heat problem, remember?

[He jots down a small crude map that shows the house and how to get there from the plaza, as well as the house number.]

[action] June 11th

[fleurdesel]

[On the 9th, she's too exhausted to hear Rick's request. Otherwise she'd have been at his side, heat or no, patching him up. Walking him through self suturing would be problematic and idiotic. Better that she's unable to do so.

On the 10th she slept through his request, and didn't notice it afterward.

On the 11th, however, she's hunting for him. His apartment, the clinics, anywhere she thinks he might linger. Remembers distantly some mention of the lakes. Wanders out that way, umbrella in hand as she makes the long walk down, picking one at random and well aware she's close when she feels that first waft of warm air.]

...It has gotten worse, hasn't it?

[action] June 11th

[fuckthemission]

[Half-collapsed on the bank of the lake, soaked to the bone and panting, he looks up blearily. He doesn't even need to reply to that question to answer it for her, does he? Just drops his forehead back into the grass. She'd probably be even more alarmed at how much of this water on him would have been sweat. Screw shirts. He's already smothered enough.

He probably looks like a guy who's been walking a desert for a while.

He croaks through the rain, grumbling,]

A little.

Jun 11 - is sometime in the evening okay?

[relictusdeus]

[At first, he supposes the man sprawled by the lake to be a corpse - - but as he draws nearer with his spear out, looking to understand what had happened but wary of what could be a trap, he notes the rise and fall of Doyle's chest. So he's alive. Recognition dawns an instant later.

Well, well.

And then he feels it, invisible waves of heat pressing against his body, enveloping him. Any stronger, and it could almost form a barrier.]

...Are you so thrilled to see me?

[He teases while glancing downwards, his rain-drenched hair plastered to his face. You look sweaty and flushed - what else could he be expected to say? With a chuckle, he adds:]

'twould seem you have saved me the trouble of stripping you of your shirt.

Jun 11 - sure!

[fuckthemission]

[Of course. He'd be over here suffocating in heat, and you show up.

He scoffs, closing his eyes tiredly, and deadpans:]

So goddamn thrilled.

Do you ever think of anything else?