1st Attack . video & spam

[inhell]

[She wakes up in her own bed, Alvin, the palm-sized teddy bear, clasped tightly in one hand. There are stars outside the window, and everything is picture-perfect. Just as she left it. She coughs, her lungs aching, and she becomes aware of numerous aches and pains. Her shoulder, her knee. A handful of cuts and scrapes. She can still feel the scorching heat on her skin. - Or, no, wait; her nose is clogged, maybe she just has a fever.

For a long moment she waits for the crushing darkness to arrive, as it usually does in her dreams. The looming shadows. Or she waits for herself to slip out of bed and start killing things. She watches herself with a kind of detached dread.

But none of these things happen, and eventually she slips out of the bed, dragging the quilted blanket with her, Alvin held tight in her fist. She manages a few steps outside, and when she finds that it's not her house, she stops dead.

All of the exhaustion catches up with her, and she slides down, against the wall next to her door. The blanket is wrapped tight around her. She stares at the wall across, waiting to wake up. Waiting to walk out into a new Hell.]

[ video & infirmaryspam, later ]

[She is curled up under as many blankets as she could talk out of whoever is on duty, and she's still shivering. Her fever is high, and every part of her body hurts. And this is when she decides to try out the little device, like a handheld computer or something. She looks absolutely awful.]

So this is like a radio...? [Her accent is rough, rural Australian.]

Who's listening? And why's there doctors in the afterlife?

[A beat, then:] Why's there flu in the afterlife?

Comments

[deadliestviper]

There's a reason Beatrix still does these random walk-throughs (she hesitates to call them patrols) of the Barge, and she finds that reason wrapped up tight in a quilt and, when she puts her palm to the girl's face, burning up.

"Hey." She pats the girl's cheek gently, trying to rouse her. "Hey sweetie, wake up. What's wrong? Are you okay?"

[Spam]

[yeahscience]

[Jesse is still hovering: he has no plans to take off the suit as long as it works, and as long as it works he can't actually touch the ground. His newfound heroism has taken him to do good deeds in the infirmary, though, mostly out of a lack of any other day-saving to do at the present moment. He's zipping around in the air above the beds, touching "down" long enough to pass out supplies, medicines, change bandages, minor but important acts of valor.

He actually hops right over Ellie's bed at first, not recognizing the huddle of blankets as a person, but when he hears her voice and realizes his error he hops back over to get a look at her. He sits crosslegged in the air, about six inches off the ground.]

Ah, you're new, huh?

[pvtparts]

What should the afterlife be like then?

[lastrat]

[Well he really hopes it's not the flu that killed her, they could do without viral outbreaks.]

Wouldn't call this the afterlife.

[deshabille]

So that you don't re-die. Or, if you do, that the aftermath is as painless as possible.

[Spam]

[deadly_ned]

[For some time, the Piemaker has been sitting in a chair in the infirmary, sleeping off his nightmarish week while looking out for his injured inmate. His head lulls to the side before dropping off his shoulder entirely and he begins to groggily shift, waking up.

Waking up's a bit of a process; he has to reaffirm he's safe in a cosy environment, and then he's got to make sure Alpha is all right, and that no one tried to mess with either of them while he was out.

Satisfied, he leans forward, rubbing at his eyes. And that's when he catches sight of the new person moved in, who seems to be some sort of blanket monster.

Odd.]

private

[versusnurture]

Sorry you're sick. I've never seen someone come here sick before. Only dead.

[velocette]

If this is the afterlife, I'd figure we're navigating hell. So the flu, the plague, those are par for the course. ...Mosquitoes, too.

Video

[strangehistorian]

Hello there! I am listening. My name is Chromie. I'm sorry that you had to arrive sick.