035 - Cinnamon and Brown Sugar

[deadly_ned]

[On video, the Piemaker is wearing one of Dean's protective amulets, holding it in his hand and looking it over. He's also sitting on the man's couch, and looks like he has been for at least a week.

Aside from that, he's...thinner. Paler, and less altogether himself, even as his free hand continuously pets Digby the golden retriever beside him. Digby, for safety, also wears an amulet clipped to his collar]

I'm not much of a necklace person.

I wasn't expecting this to work. It works. I don't feel anything.

I didn't feel anything before I put it on either, so to the person who has my doll, thank you for not hurting it.


This flood is...

[The Piemaker falls silent. His eyes unfocus, and his head seems to drop. Something is clearly twisted up inside him.

This lasts for an uncomfortably long time, minutes worth of dead air filling up the network. Finally, the Piemaker seems to wake back up, wincing and rubbing at his eyes. He glances around, confused, before spotting the camera's light. He reaches over and shuts it off without explanation]

Comments

[neverfeltbetter]

Ned? Hey man, you're not lookin' so hot. Are you sick?

[Actually, he looks like death warmed over but Crichton avoids speaking that particular idiom out loud.]

[deadly_ned]

Crichton. Hi.

Yes, I'm. I've had a headache. Haven't been sleeping. You know. General..sick-related things.

I don't think it's contagious.

Sorry about that other one.

[neverfeltbetter]

Have you gotten yourself looked at for it?

What's that you're wearing anyway?

o\

[deadly_ned]

Not yet. It's not anything.

Dean's amulet. He gave it to me so the doll wouldn't hurt me.

[neverfeltbetter]

It looks like something. You look like crap.

Oh. Damn, I need one.

[Yes Dean, he's done being skeptical about your magic, okay?

[deadly_ned]

[For the moment, the Piemaker chooses to ignore Crichton's first comment, wanting to forget that this is happening to him]

Take mine. No one's been hurting my doll even before he gave it to me. Digby and I will share.

[neverfeltbetter]

[He noticed. Don't worry, he'll get back to it.]

Speaking of...are you petting him? I thought you couldn't, you know, touch him.

[spam]

[routemistress]

[This is deeply unsettling, and no one has incapacitated Iris with dolls, so she doesn't bother replying on the network; she just goes and knocks on Dean's door.]

Ned? You awake? S'only me.

[spam]

[deadly_ned]

[A hurried shuffling from inside, as the Piemaker scrambles to get himself sorted. Seconds later, he's cracking open the door, shoulders hunched]

Hi, Iris.

Are you looking for Dean? He might be in Maintenance.

[spam]

[routemistress]

[Elvis and Solace are with her; Iris might have hesitated to shoulder into the room past a cracked door (or she might not) but the dogs, seeing their BFF Digby, make no bones about it, and Iris follows purposefully in their wake.]

No, you plonker, I come to see you. You look like you followed a deathtoll with a two week absinthe bender, Ned, what the 'eck's up with you?

[spam]

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker quickly lets the door go rather than risk getting slammed by the overzealous dogs. He grimaces, looking over at the now three(!!) dogs on Dean's couch. Digby is happy to sniff Elvis and Solace in greeting, but little more than that: partially because of his age, mostly because of the fact that he smells just slightly of death to other dogs.

Trying not to think of how Dean is going to react to this nonsense, the Piemaker turns back to Iris only to find her already in the room]

Nothing's up with me. I'm only feeling under the weather. You came all this way because I'm down with the flu?

[spam]

[routemistress]

[Iris doesn't care. Nor does she care if Dean is going to mind or not; though she's utterly confident he wouldn't.]

Bullshit. I just watched you practically nod off in front of your comm. 'Ave you been to sickbay? And 'ow come you're shacking up with Dean again? Did someone kill you again and you're not telling anyone, Ned?

[spam]

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker hopes Dean won't mind, but still keeps an eye on the dogs just in case Digby tries to sneak into Dean's bed. Again.]

Nobody killed me. There wasn't any killing or dying or otherwise deathtolling.

Can't a friend just have a sleepover once in a blueish moon without making a big to-do about it?

[ Private ]

[surfaceshine]

[This... is brand new levels of frustrating.

Dean is stuck elsewhere on the Barge so he doesn't actually go to his cabin, and besides, Ned is as safe there as he is anywhere; but when he snaps out of it the hunter is right there, snatching up his communicator and calling brightly before Ned can hang up.]

Hey, Squeaker!

[ Private ]

[deadly_ned]

[Still rubbing at his eyes, the Piemaker fends for his camera to shut it off. Too late]

Hi, Dean.

You're very cheery today.

[ Private ]

[surfaceshine]

Yeah, I woke up this morning, so things got off to a good start.

What were you saying about the flood?

[ Private ]

[deadly_ned]

I was saying thank you to whoever was holding my doll. That they hadn't hurt me.

[ Private ]

[surfaceshine]

Yeah? Good.

You eaten today?

[ Private ]

[deadly_ned]

Yes.

[Eye. Twitch.]

[bybloodandhonor]

Are you feeling all right? Didn't end up knocked over by a kodo?

[deadly_ned]

[Weakly, and confused]

I'm not sure I understand what a kodo is, sir.

[bybloodandhonor]

Large horned reptilian herd animal from back home. Taller than a man at the shoulder, prone to charging it's attacker when provoked.

Are you going to get someone from the infirmary to have a look at you?

[deadly_ned]

I wasn't particularly planning on it. Why? Is that bad?

[bybloodandhonor]

It could be, as you don't look particularly well.

[deadly_ned]

I don't feel particularly well.

But I'd feel worse if I went to the infirmary. Guaranteed.