3 - Video

[deusexmechanic]

[The first thing that you see when the camera comes on is Harper's hand pulling away from it, as he's literally just slapped it on. The rest of him, however, is currently in the process of rummaging under his bed. His voice is muffled.]

Oka-ay, show and tell time. Ladies and gentlemen, can I interest any of you fine patrons in this beau-tee-full...

[There's a squeak, and Harper's body jerks dramatically as he scrambles under the bed with something, before drawing back out from under it. He's clutching a highly unimpressed looking mongoose to his chest.]

M... uh... mongoose...

[He doesn't look particularly good right now. Apparently the fight for the mongoose was more strenuous than it looked, because he's breathing heavily enough for it to reasonably be considered wheezing, his eyes are bloodshot, and there's a rather nasty looking rash climbing up the side of his neck. Releasing the mongoose, which quickly and contentedly scurries back under his bed, Harper presses his hand to his chest, apparently trying to get back his breath, before falling into a coughing fit. When this finally subsides, Harper flops back onto the floor.]

Yeesh.






[OOC: Harper has a poor immune system, and I needed something to post about, so now he's got a VIRAL RESPIRATORY INFECTION! Guess which one I gave him, It's a good one! P.S. I got mod approval and all that nice stuff]

Comments

[requiresssacrifice]

Oh no. You don't look well.

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

[Harper neither sits up, nor replies, instead, he just gives the camera a well earned kick. He's thinking of you, Rex c:]

[requiresssacrifice]

Maybe I should get you something to make you feel... better. [YOU CAN TELL HE MEANS "POISON"]

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

Bite me, blinky. [He's not sitting up, no matter HOW MUCH YOU MOCK.]

[requiresssacrifice]

Yes, well, on that note... I'll get back to my work. [As in: HAHA I CAN DO WHAT I WANT, SUCKA] Get well soon.

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

I am going to infect something and give it to you. [Still lying down. Later he'll claim he said that while delirious.]

[requiresssacrifice]

[DEADPAN because seriously, he can't believe you >(] You would try to give somebody in my condition a respiratory infection?

1/2

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

[You make an excellent point there. There is a long silence.]

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

[Then he kicks the camera again. A completely reasonable response.]

[requiresssacrifice]

And I see that conversation with you is as meaningful as ever.

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

[Annnnnd, he finally sits up and looks at the camera directly.]

Okay then, let's have a conversation. Let's reform you. Hmm, now where or wh--

[His sarcasm is interrupted by a fresh coughing fit.]

[requiresssacrifice]

[THIS BRIGHTENS HIS DAY]

You were saying?

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

[Still coughing. Harper makes an obscene gesture at you that doesn't exist yet.]

[requiresssacrifice]

Well said.

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

if you want someone besides mccoy just let me know and I'll delete :>

[hyposprayed.livejournal.com]

If it's not one thing it's another. Where's your room kid?

OBVIOUSLY I WANT MCCOY.

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

[For you, Harper deigns to sit up. He gives you a big grin, then a little grimace.]

Six Oh Six. Heya Doc.

:>> then he is all yours! spam?

[hyposprayed.livejournal.com]

[Have a stern doctor look.] Stay put, I'll be there in a few minutes.

[Spam!]

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

[Harper flops back down obediently.] Right, stay put, I can do that.

[Spam!]

[hyposprayed.livejournal.com]

[McCoy made it down in those few minutes, knocking sharply on the door labeled with a six.] Harper, it's McCoy. [He called in his usual gruff tone.]

[Spam!]

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

[There's a shifting and a scuffling and a slight bumping from behind the door, then a few minutes later it slides open. He doesn't look good. Still, he gives a lazy wave to the doctor and takes a couple of steps backwards into his cabin.]

Hey, McCoy! Welcome to Casa du H-- [He cuts himself off to clear his throat.] Harper. [He winces.] I was aiming for a little smoother than that came out.

[Spam!]

[hyposprayed.livejournal.com]

I can't say much for the delivery. [McCoy said dryly as he walked in, gesturing to the bed.] Sit down, you look like hell warmed over. I'm guessing this is why you missed coming down to the Infirmary the other day. [He pulled out his scanner and began adjusting it.]

[Spam!]

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

Yeah, yeah, I'm sitting, I'm sitting. [Harper took a couple of well intentioned steps towards the bed, before noticing that McCoy appeared to be holding a scanner of some kind. Immediately abandoning all thoughts of sitting down, Harper zeroed in on the scanner and was suddenly and infectiously invading McCoys personal space to get a better look at it.] Hey, so what is that? Some kind of diagnostics thing? Can I see?

[Spam!]

[hyposprayed.livejournal.com]

God damnit man, I said sit. [McCoy ordered, pointing sharply at the bed.] This is a medical scanner, and when you finally sit your sorry hide down it will give me some basic readings to help figure out what's wrong with you. [He explained, reminiscent of a fairly grumpy man trying to explain something to nosy kid.]

[He regarded Harper a moment before sighing and pulling a rectangular item from his side and handing it to Harper.] Here, you can look at my tricorder, now sit down and shut it.

[Spam!]

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

Fine, I get it-- [Harper dragged the word "fine" out into a slightly whiny noise, taking a step back towards the bed before a fresh fit of coughing overtook him. He dropped artlessly down, shoulders still heaving with coughs, before finally regaining enough self control to accept the tricorder. Visibly less excited than he was a moment ago, by the time he finished coughing, Harper was downright subdued.] Okay, right, now I get it. [He offered, his voice slightly weaker than it had been before.]

[Spam!]

[hyposprayed.livejournal.com]

[McCoy's grumpy expression shifted to something more concerned, holding the scanner up and running it in front of Seamus slowly, scowling at the readings slowly coming through.]

It's definitely something viral. It's- [He stopped, frown deepening as he went for his PADD.] God damn it, that's been gone for over 150 years, how the hell did your time... [he trailed off as he scowled over some notes on the screen.]

[Spam!]

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]

What? What do I have? [Harper leans forward to try and see over the edge of the pad. Good job you're ineffectually inoculated, Doctor, because MAN, you'd think he was TRYING to give you his germs right here.] Come on, what is it? Like, a chest infection?

[And now he's coughing again, and that turns pretty quickly into wheezing, and Harper just stops talking for a minute while he presses his hand on his chest, willing his airways to clear up again.]

[Spam!]

[hyposprayed.livejournal.com]

[McCoy just rolls his eyes and nudges him away because FUTURE MEDICINE will protect him. Just you wait, he's totally in the clear. His life is never hard and illogical.]

It's SARS for god's sake, how the hell did you manage to contract it? [He frowned at Harper's coughing fit, going for his med kit.] Hold on their kid, I can cook something up to help the symptoms at least. I'll need to go back to the infirmary to work on clearing it up entirely.

No actual comment but SARS?

[captain-jtkirk.livejournal.com]

THE BEST VIRAL RESPIRATORY DISEASE c:

[deusexmechanic.livejournal.com]