Week 1 - Thursday Night - Cabin 3 Slumber-Party?!

[finalguard]

[ We're all sick, we're all afraid. The last part is debatable. ]

((Cabinmate mingle for the pre-murder night. Since we're all in the same cabin, threadjacking and just general messy posting is encouraged unless a different pref is stated in a thread header.

I put two headers, one for pre-10pm sickness misery and one for 10pm when we all miracle heal, because I think it'd be difficult to decide 'now is the time' unanimously in ongoing threads between 8 people.))

Comments

[homeecspacecop]

Don-- [Chuuta's attempt at trying to stop Nine from poking at the... stuff just sets off another desperate coughing fit. There's some more dust, if you were wondering where it was coming from.]

[finalguard]

Different things.. I lived in a facility full of training machines. Running, weight lifting, braces that make moving harder.... We trained power, stamina and precision in a lot of ways.

[ And he'd be able to demonstrate it more elegantly if he wasn't so fucking sick.

Nevertheless, he tries gripping the spear towards its rear end, which causes a comical tip of balance where Boa has to try hard to keep the actual spear-tip horizontal. Then he hurls it at the bean bag and it....... well. It sticks there. Generally. Not very deeply and thus the back of the spear just kind of pathetically rests on the floor, but an effort was made. ]

...ugh.

[linearcrash]

[ Why are you leaking green powder?


Wiping his finger on Chuuta just in case he touched that. ]

Oh, yuck. Is that normal? [ Is this a side effect of the alien passenger??? ]

[homeecspacecop]

[He shakes his head. It's really not normal, and he and Drew are both pretty sure that they've got some kind of alien sickness.

]

D'you... 've water?

[linearcrash]

[ He's about to poke at Chuuta too see if more stuff will come out, but the request has him pausing. ]

Yeah, I think so.

[ Moving over to grab his water bottle. Taking the cap off and handing it over. ]

Yo, here.

[ Hopefully he takes it because Nine is going to drop down to a crouch as he rubs his forehead. He's feeling dizzy and feverish from whatever they were given. ]

[homeecspacecop]

[He grabs it, and chugs the entire thing without stopping to breathe.

But a water bottle doesn't help when he's dealing with a disease that's turning his body into dust.]

[linearcrash]

[ Whoa! ]

Hey, don't forget to breathe. [ He says once the room isn't spinning. He doesn't know what to do when someone is choking. ]

Don't think choking will count.

[linearcrash]

Hey, that's not bad. Small>[ Nine does sound impressed. He'll make his spear vanish and then bring his arms up and folded to hold something... the spear reappears across his shoulders and the back of his neck. ]

I can't wait for whatever the hell this is to stop.

[ Tipping the spear back so it'll slide down to his side and catching it. Then hitting the butt of it against the ground for balance. He's not used to being sick and it sucks :( ]

[itsagazebo]

[His everything hurts. But Boa's got a point...]


What the fuck else am I s'posed to think about?

[trashmouthtozier]

Hey, guyd, I ...

[Richie's congestion is so bad that it's almost impossible to understand him at this point.]

I thib mabbe we shub pud ub sub tabs. Ou-thib.

[trashmouthtozier]

I'b seed grosser. Sunburb is really nasty shit. Once Monday rolls around, use sub of the tiggids you won for lig, aloe and sunblob. Id's brobably eben worse becub you loog lig a Goth gid.

[he makes a face.]

Cub wid be to the bathroobs ad we can gid sub lig, baber dowels and glean it ub. Den I'll helb.

[itsagazebo]

[Thankfully Eddie's second language is stuffy. He looks over at Richie, squinting a little.]

Traps? Do any of us look like we're in any state to go tromping around outside?

[trashmouthtozier]

[once 10 PM hits, a crack appears down each cheek, but Richie still can't move. you might want to help him get out of there so he can breathe]

9:30-ISH

[trashmouthtozier]

[as soon as Richie comes in from setting his traps, the reason he was so stuffed up became gruesomely evident.

some sort of black ichor begins to seep out of his pores, covering his whole body. it smells like sweat and day-old dishes.]

What the fuck ---

[his eyes widen behind his glasses, looking freakishly huge. he reaches up to wipe off one forearm - or tries to. the goo starts to harden, turning the deep brown of cheap modeling clay, and he can't move]

WHAT THE FUCK?!

[he starts to panic, breathing hard, until it binds his chest, too, and he's stark still, staring down at himself as it starts to creep up his neck]

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? HELP!

[you can try to peel it off him, but after a minute it'll keep happening too fast for anyone to keep up with, and you'll just have to ... let him get sealed up....]

[trashmouthtozier]

[he flails a little]

I'b nod doo bab, I cud do ib. I jus deed ideab! I cab breab too gud, bud ad log as I sday dear the cabbib, dad's ogay!

[trashmouthtozier]

Eds.

[Richie bites his lower lip, camped out sitting at the foot of his friend's bed. scary as it looks, he's not going anywhere]

Id - id's godda be ogay. Dey - dey wouldn't really gill us all. Id's a desd.

[itsagazebo]

What the fuck is this? [He launches into a coughing fit. He wipes a little blood from his lips before he continues] Home Alone?

[itsagazebo]

Richie?

[Eddie peels himself off of his sheets, trying to get to his BFF.]

Richie!!

[His limbs don't want to work and he ends up falling out of his bunk into a heap on the floor. Unable to walk, he tries to crawl across the floor]

[trashmouthtozier]

[he snatches at a deep breath, and it catches in his chest at the sight of the blood on Eddie's lips. he's trying so hard not to be afraid, to believe that they're not really going to die, but - but seeing him like this is ... is worse than anything IT ever showed him. even worse than the Missing poster. he wrestles his fear to the ground, flips it over, and beats it until it turns into anger instead]

Doh.

No, goddab it, this is fuggin' Raiders of the Losd Arg and we're the tebble. Any mudderfugger who dries to ged in here is godda get hib ass gigged. I'b godda mag sure ub id.

[seekingsunrise]

I'm not an idiot.

[He starts to chuckle though. It really kinda does. But then Nine pokes him and he hisses sharply, jerking away.]

[seekingsunrise]

This is with sunscreen... SPF 50.

[It takes him considerable effort to stand, wavering unsteadily but eventually he finds his equilibrium again.]

I don't know what Goth is but... yeah, okay. Think you could stand to pop some of these blisters?

[seekingsunrise]

[People are up and about and moving and talking! Things are going better!

Except there's still a vaguely Talcott shaped lump on the bunk farthest from the door. Everyone's making too much noise and he just whimpers and buries his face into the pillow. Except that hurts too.

Gosh it sucks having such a bad sunburn that you're constantly suffering from sun-stroke, doesn't it?]

[finalguard]

[ Oh god, this just had to get worse, didn't it? Boa feels like the world is spinning around him, but he still tries to get out of bed. It goes black in front of his eyes and it's all he can do not to just fall back as well, but damn it, he's going to...

God, he'd told himself he wouldn't care if anyone else died, but this is... this is... No matter how much he forces himself to be apathetic, he can't just let this happen in front of his eyes.

He almost stumbles over Eddie on the floor and for a moment he considers helping him over, but then he realizes that the issue isn't fucking emotional comfort, it's not letting a guy turn into a wax doll.

So he stumbles onward, leaving Eddie to his crawling, and makes way to Richie to attempt getting that stuff off his neck. This happens wordlessly because he's trying very hard not to pass out and he can't talk if he also has to focus on moving. ]

[homeecspacecop]

[He'll breathe once he's done. Sort of. More like, "he'll start coughing a lot", but close enough.]

[sophistryking]

[He's not doing a lot...

Like a few days ago, he's sat on his bunk with his legs hanging over the edge. This time he's slumped forward. His elbows resting on his knees, and his head in his hands. It didn't look comfortable.

The wheezing probably didn't help. Every now and then there's a hacking cough.]

...Do you think if went to the adults like this, they'd send us to the hospital?