vor | Sixth Cream Cake: [Written/Action]

[Filtered to Ivan Vorpatril, 65% unhackable because it's early and he's sick.]

Ivan,

Would you please look in on the horse for me? The Imperial Ass seems to be having trouble getting out of bed today, as the Imperial Sniffles have turned into the Imperial Plague. We apologize for Our impending death and your impending resulting frustrations.

Regretfully,

Gregor

P.S. If this letter caused you alarm, please give yourself a refresher course in detecting the Imperial Sarcasm.

[/Filtered]

[Gregor is sick as a dog. Apartments adjacent to his have probably heard violent, deep, chesty coughing for about two weeks now. Ordinarily, he'd have on-site approved physicians checking him out and prescribing whatever antibiotic was necessary, but here, he has to actually go seek out help. So. To the Battle Dome clinic he goes, looking specifically to see Adele LeBlanc when she's in. He will wait for her, if necessary.

Afterwards, he's going to the library, then the bakery for coffee and something sweet. Anyone stopping in can see him sitting inside, devouring a psychology textbook and sipping coffee, the cream cakes reduced to crumbs. They are the only thing he has eaten all day. He is not looking great, occasionally falling into bad coughing fits, for which he ducks outside, but recovering fairly quickly. When he heads home, he goes straight to bed despite his plans to work out. And the fact that it's the middle of the day.]

[Filtered to Phoenix Ikki 79%]

PI--

I suppose we're supposed to be pen pals, whatever that entails. I hope you're adjusting to the village well.

--GB

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[Amelia's headed to the bakery for donuts; Vash's being aged by the Malnosso means he can't make the trip himself. It also makes Amelia anxious, seeing someone close to her suddenly so limited. So she's both eager to get out of the house, and somewhat distracted when a young man comes out and starts coughing.

It isn't the best way to be broken out of her thoughts.]

Shouldn't you be at home? [It comes out harsher than she means it to.] You're obviously sick.

Not contagious. [He assumes, anyway, that that's what worries her. Besides, she's sort of stepping on his self-consciousness. Wheeze.] Sorry. [Cough.]

[It's a fair bit of it, yes. And Amelia's not entirely willing to just trust his word on it.]

You should still be in bed. You sound awful.

Thank you. [Only a handful can detect irritation in him.] I've been in bed most of the day.

Gregor might notice another man in the library who is nervously thumbing through a great, giant, leatherbound book. A musty, cranky-looking sonofabitch of a book, really. The man's movements with the book are reverent at times, hurried at others, as he flips through its pages.

Also, he is talking to himself.

"Nothing here about it.....mmmmrrr.....hmmm."

He does notice, and sees the man he helped with the cat. As neither of their activities currently seem to involve cats or treacle, he doesn't call to him, but instead peers at the cover of Jack's book, trying to read it from a distance. His own, a book about psychology, flutters slightly in his trembling hands.

And at this point Jack wouldn't even recall that conversation. It was all a New Feather Trolling operation, anyhow. Not of import to him. Not anymore.

Not much was.

"Hrrrrrm. Bugger bugger."

[Amelia said the same thing herself, this past winter when she had gotten sick. Except it was much easier to tell she was annoyed in her case.]

Most of the day isn't over yet. And you'd be better off going to a doctor instead of the bakery.

I did. It's how I know it's not contagious. [He coughs hard a few times into the crook of his elbow.]

And the doctor didn't tell you to rest?

[Amelia frowns when he coughs again, then glances into one of the windows.] Do you at least have something to drink in there?

[Rin now sees Greg going into a coughing fit outside the bakery. He wasn't actually going to the bakery, just sort of walking past it en route to something else (probably work, he's still on edge about everything) and then... oh. coughing. He narrows his eyes and- he recognizes that fellow-]

Oi, man, are you okay?

[Tail flick and march over]

[He waves that away with a little flick of his fingers.]

I do. Would you like to split a cream cake with me? My name is Greg, by the way.

[Maybe it'll be the fastest way to get her to realize they're complete strangers and this is inappropriate behavior.]

[Gregor nods as the coughing subsides.] Just a touch of bronchitis.

[...Okay he racks his brain a moment for that. Fortunately, his brother is or is studying (depends on if you count exorcist meister versus actual MD) doctoring, so he is able to come up with...] That's like- fluid in your lungs or an infection or something there, right?

[This time he shakes his head, catching his breath.] Bronchial tube infection.

Now that she had settled herself as best she'd be able to while on her own, Adele took up her usual rounds in the battledome clinic once more. It was familiar, it was work, patients and files- a world she understood well enough to keep herself centered.

To be honest she'd been expecting Gregor to come in sooner- and yet at the same time she was glad he'd taken his time to check in. A week earlier and she would have been in no position to help.

"Greg. When I told you to call me when it became worse, you do know I meant a little worse and not to wait until it sounds as though you are fit to cough up a lung, yes?"

He shrugs and doesn't appear especially bothered. "I thought I'd give it time to go away on its own."

I'll take that to mean they did.

[Sorry Greg. Amelia doesn't drop things easily. She crosses her arms over her chest, then nods toward the door.]

Amelia. Which table is yours?

"You wouldn't sound so bad if you'd caught it early." She shakes her head and motions for him to follow her into an examination room.

[Clearing his throat, he beckons her inside and begins to walk her to his table.]

He follows her, clearing his throat. "I'm aware. I've just...I wasn't sure what the procedure is. I eventually figured if I turned up, someone would tell me what to do."

[Amelia follows him in, and over to his table. She isn't there for pastry, however, and once they get there she immediately pushes Greg's drink toward him.]

If you went to the doctor, then you'll have medicine. Which you should take, if you haven't already.

"The procedure is- contact a physician. Be it a cold or a cut that's inflamed, it's better to check with one of the professionals in the village. We don't have so much work as you'd have to wait nor would we turn you away."

She's shaking her head at him, considering what she knows of his background. She doesn't comment on it until they're both in the room and she's got the door closed for privacy.

"I suppose you had doctors checking in on you regularly to catch these illnesses before they became so pronounced, yes?"

I have. [Gregor takes a sip of coffee and sits down.] Like most medicine, it takes time to work.

"I had routine physicals." He sits in his chair. "My staff were trained to contact my personal physician if anything came up. I didn't think any of the physicians here would appreciate being expected to wait hand and foot on an exiled...on me, that way."

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