Sixty-Fourth Theory [Action/Voice]

[i_speak_softly]

((First part is backdated to yesterday, November 10.))

[Would it really be so difficult for John's droids to just bring Don home?]

[Apparently, because they instead leave him in a side room of the barracks. On their way out, they drop his journal on the floor, just beyond his reach.]

[He can't feel his legs.]

[He woke up this way on John's table, and while part of his brain tried to assess the situation rationally and offer the mitigating factors that it's just for a week, thank goodness he didn't get this as his death loss, the rest of his brain was screaming too loudly to notice or care.]

[And now he's back in the village, half-paralyzed, still uncertain of his speech, and completely alone.]

[It takes a while, but he pulls himself together, drags himself a few feet across the floor, and painstakingly constructs a filter in the journal.]

Voice to Beast | Unhackable

Help. The barracks. Please...

[He closes the book when he's done. Beast won't get any reply from him through the journals, but will find him prone on the floor of the barracks, just wanting to go home.]



Voice for Everyone, November 11

[By the next day, Don has rediscovered his voice, and wants everyone else to hear it too. Being couchbound, he has nothing better to do than broadcast his every thought over the journal system.]

EVERYONE. Citizens, denizens, residents and inmates of our village of Luceti. Those of you who have just arrived, please find adequate shelter, because this is miserable weather to be out in. You're fortunate, though, to have missed our recent tornado. Also an infestation of ghosts and some messy business involving zombie viruses. Never a dull moment. I advise reading the guide, which can be found in your journal.

Those of you who are already jaded by such events, please entertain yourselves on this dreary day by suggesting a topic of interest: a fascinating subject, an intriguing project, or a hypothetical occurrence that you would find truly surprising. Jokes and stories are also welcome.

[He'll stop there. Finding words is still difficult and tiring, and like exercising any other faculty that hasn't been used in a while, he should take it slowly. Full recovery will come from patient practice, not from exhausting himself all at once.]


((Initial action is locked to Beast. Friends of Don are welcome to handwave hearing of his return and come visit, yesterday afternoon or any time during the week. Today's voice post is open to all.))

Comments

[Probably later than the rest of these threads | also Action]

[semper_cogitans]

[After the dead silence of the house that came as a result of Don being gone for a few days, the stream-of-consciousness chatter that he's keeping up is gratifying and relieving. Robert is just so glad to have him capable and upbeat again about himself, even if there was a relatively hefty physical price to pay (if only briefly).

He hasn't really gone far from Don since he came home, both out of practical reasons and also because he wants to be by the Turtle's side as much as possible. He's become something of an attendant in the interim, but he doesn't mind that any.

Right now he's tidying up the area around the couch a little, but he can probably be dissuaded from straightening the furniture for the fifteenth time if Don would like his company more directly.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don lies on the couch, watching Robert clean and trying to think of anything other than the seemingly-missing lower half of his body. He was able to entertain himself most of the day by talking to people on the journals, but now the villagers have dispersed to their evening activities, and Don is tired from speaking so much.]

[There are a few things he really should say, though.]

Um... hey.

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert's gaze snaps up from where it was trained on a singular dust bunny, though his hands complete the motion independently to sweep it into the dustpan he was cleaning with.]

Yes, Don?

[i_speak_softly]

[Don struggles to sit up, then abandons the effort.]

Do something for me?

[semper_cogitans]

Of course. What would you... like me to do? [He shakes the dustpan into the trash bin as he asks the question, then snaps the handle of the brush into the dustpan. All of this is done without looking at it.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don motions for Robert to come sit by him. He feels bad ordering him around from across the room.]

[semper_cogitans]

[The man comes up to Don's side and takes a seat promptly, nestling into place on the couch with a smile, as though Don had done him a favour.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don rests a hand on Robert's knee, happy to have him nearby. When he speaks, the words are halting: he's been thinking about this for hours, trying to find the right names for things.]

Go to the clinic and get... syringes of heparin. Then the okonomiyaki place, for anything. And... the lady who isn't named April has my book.

[semper_cogitans]

[It takes a few seconds - heparin. An anticoagulant.

Robert's doctor training and biological knowledge suddenly makes these ideas fall into place. He hadn't considered it until now (now that it's been presented) but if this continues for a few days, and Don can't move, then blood clotting would become a serious potential problem...

Okay. He nods, his expression serious now.]

Yes, of course.

[As for the other two...]

... Okonomiyaki? [The word comes out strangely; he hasn't really frequented the shop much and probably never saw it written.]

And... "the... lady who isn't named April"...? [That's especially confusing.]

[i_speak_softly]

Japanese food. I'm starving.

You know, what's-her-name... [He'll reach for his journal, to look up a picture.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Okay, he can do that.

As for who Don's talking about... there's a list of people he can look at, isn't there? Unless that's retconned out now. Who knows?]

Perhaps you have a... description?

[i_speak_softly]

[Don't ask him to describe a human, Robert.]

[In short order he's located Buffy's picture in the list of residents.]

Her.

[semper_cogitans]

[Oh, okay, that works just as well.]

Ms. Summers. [He gives the journal itself a more scrutinizing look.] Should I... ask her if I can retrieve your book for you?

[i_speak_softly]

Just go tell her I need it back. [He closes the journal, then has another thought.] You know where she lives, right?

[semper_cogitans]

[Quick search through the mental databases, and -] I... am afraid not.

[i_speak_softly]

[Right. Don reopens the journal to the village map, pointing out Buffy's house.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert nods, as he lines this new data up with his own mental map of the village.]

... I should be off now, then? [His tone suggests he doesn't want to leave Don, but at the same time, the medicine could be important.]

[i_speak_softly]

Please. [He finds Robert's hand, and squeezes it reassuringly.] We'll talk when you get back.

and then I skipped time

[semper_cogitans]

... Y-Yes. If... if you need anything, please call me.

[Robert bundles his journal into his arms, makes certain Don's journal is within easy reach (as well as other things he might need), and then reluctantly heads out the door.



Perhaps forty-five minutes or so later, he returns, his cloth bag full of precious medicine, a box of sterilized needles which he felt very strange for collecting, and a certain book, carefully folded in its confines.

In his hands, he carries a container of still-warm okonomiyaki.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don's first interest is in that steaming white box. He seizes it, breaks apart the chopsticks inside, and starts inhaling the food. It's delicious.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert is perfectly content to watch Don eat all of the food, even if he meant to sample some of it himself.

It at least smells good though. Robert makes a mental note to attempt cooking it himself. Possibly with meat for Don, though who knows...]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don has noticed the lack of meat.]

[In a somewhat disappointed tone:] This is vegetables. Um. Vegetarian.

[semper_cogitans]

[Oh. Well, shit. Um.]

... I meant to eat some myself, but... [Well. Don just sort of devoured all of it.

Yep. Though Robert is now looking like he just committed the Worst Mistake Ever.]

[i_speak_softly]

[With a sigh, Don hands over the last pancake. He's more upset about this than might seem reasonable, but he's trying not to show it.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert just deflates. Mistakes are things he shouldn't be making at this point.]

... I will... bring s-separate containers next time. So it is not an issue.

[Suddenly the okonomiyaki no longer seems as appetizing.]