As expected of the nobility - I wonder if they've chosen a name for the child yet. [A little dark humor - don't count your eggs before they hatch, or you might come up one short-]
I'm not sure I know of anyone who won't be blamed, should things come to that. They do like throwing their fits.
[The warrant on Zan Nikora drops. And all in all it ought to seem a neat resolution to this little catastrophe. (Too neat, maybe. Pretty strange that a guy who's been quietly living in military retirement on Westerley suddenly decided to spring a bioweapon a whole moon away. Even in the wake of the stunt the True Leithans pulled with the ID thefts, it's a big move for a loose cannon.) But one way or the other, tracking down the man responsible is the best place to start getting answers on the matter. And, given there's yet to be any effective permanent treatments, possibly the best place to start digging up a quicker cure before half the quad goes off its rocker.
Even for a payout, it takes a certain kind of stubborn to white knuckle through the symptoms of impending awful death to work on a solution. But there are those like Jason, durable and dogged enough to grit his teeth and push back the worst of the low-burn of infection and work through the fatigue and the pounding in his head (and the distant dissonant echoes of familiar-unfamiliar voices) to dig for signs of Nikora's movements. He's as careful as he can be, keeps his hood on when he's in the field to filter out the infection in his breath, as if the air in the quarantine zone isn't already thick with it. Cautious enough to keep his contact with people like Kara to channels that wouldn't open her up to infection, herself.
That's assuming, of course, that she's even lucky enough to be unaffected so far. The message pinging in might sound suspiciously like a check-in at first glance.]
Holding up?
[He'd be much obliged if you could remain sane, bud.]
[Funny. In another life, he'd take this opportunity for gallows humor with incredibly inappropriate enthusiasm and bitter irony. Now...he still takes it, though there's a longer-than-usual pause before he answers.
Absently, he rakes a hand through his hair while he reads her response. Not an uncommon habit, but this time his fingers stop briefly at the scars on his scalp, hidden under his hair, were the piece of black-market tech that had saved his life once sits. Wired irreparably and invasively into his brainpan.
(Every flu-like symptom of the virus seems a pale echo of something else. Like seeing double. The ache in his ribs like they ought to be shattered. The coppery bite on the bottom of his breath. The ghost of a spiking headache that'll twinge oddly at the edge of his attention for hours. Fuzz his clarity, eat away at his concentration when it creeps up on him. It's gotten worse, the dissonance, even after the laughing has stopped.)
Rattling back to attention, he drops his hands down to answer her.]
Sorry to disappoint. The RAC's got a bet running for first to kick the bucket this week, and I don't want the bottom-feeders who bet on me to win.
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[text] message from toukai
And they're not the only ones who would pay a considerable sum to find it.
Heard anything useful?
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heard a lot of things, half the people here wanna go try their luck
but there's always a bastard or two
[She could be using it in the "people are dicks" sense, but what she means is that she heard a rumour about an illegitimate heir.]
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Poor bastards.
Hopefully they're well hidden. [Wanna tell him where?]
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[If they're illegitimate, she doesn't see the point in bothering with them while a potential real heir is still on the table.
She's assuming that Takasugi is on the same page as her: secure the heir to avoid violence.]
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He appreciates that.] Being thorough isn't a waste of time.
But without the centerpiece, it's all meaningless.
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you know who's gonna get blamed if it's broken
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I'm not sure I know of anyone who won't be blamed, should things come to that. They do like throwing their fits.
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text; un: ipatch
[ ... there's no guestbook, to be fair. ]
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wasn't told there was a guestbook
jealous?
[Kara can, occasionally, be a bit of a little shit.]
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Depends, did you two enjoy yourselves? :3
[ Same, to be honest. ]
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you think i'm the kinda person who fucks and tells?
[A) that isn't how the saying goes
B) nothing even happened]
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[ Somehow that..equates...?? He's totally not throwing shade here. Or is he? It's hard enough to tell in person. ]
How'd he sleep?
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[Hey look it kind of makes sense to her, in that she's assuming Lavi is just messing around.]
like a baby
but that coulda been the bloodloss
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w4d1
Even for a payout, it takes a certain kind of stubborn to white knuckle through the symptoms of impending awful death to work on a solution. But there are those like Jason, durable and dogged enough to grit his teeth and push back the worst of the low-burn of infection and work through the fatigue and the pounding in his head (and the distant dissonant echoes of familiar-unfamiliar voices) to dig for signs of Nikora's movements. He's as careful as he can be, keeps his hood on when he's in the field to filter out the infection in his breath, as if the air in the quarantine zone isn't already thick with it. Cautious enough to keep his contact with people like Kara to channels that wouldn't open her up to infection, herself.
That's assuming, of course, that she's even lucky enough to be unaffected so far. The message pinging in might sound suspiciously like a check-in at first glance.]
Holding up?
[He'd be much obliged if you could remain sane, bud.]
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i've got a good immune system
[That's a slight understatement, but she's not about to tell him that her nanos keep her from getting sick.]
not dead yet either?
[She thinks she's funny.]
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Absently, he rakes a hand through his hair while he reads her response. Not an uncommon habit, but this time his fingers stop briefly at the scars on his scalp, hidden under his hair, were the piece of black-market tech that had saved his life once sits. Wired irreparably and invasively into his brainpan.
(Every flu-like symptom of the virus seems a pale echo of something else. Like seeing double. The ache in his ribs like they ought to be shattered. The coppery bite on the bottom of his breath. The ghost of a spiking headache that'll twinge oddly at the edge of his attention for hours. Fuzz his clarity, eat away at his concentration when it creeps up on him. It's gotten worse, the dissonance, even after the laughing has stopped.)
Rattling back to attention, he drops his hands down to answer her.]
Sorry to disappoint. The RAC's got a bet running for first to kick the bucket this week, and I don't want the bottom-feeders who bet on me to win.
[He's probably joking.]
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[What a lovely compliment, it's the nicest thing that Kara's ever said.]
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Now I know I'm seeing things. Maybe I really am a goner.
[It was a good run while it lasted, etc.]
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[Well there goes any niceness, although she's mostly just teasing.]
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Text; un: mugen
You still have those damn kittens?
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the kittens are with a neighbor, i got no time for that shit but i bet she'd be okay to give one or two up
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Shut up.
Make sure she doesn't get rid of whichever ones that idiot got attached to. I'm tired of being blamed for his catlessness.
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[If Lavi has gotten Kanda to relent on the kitten thing, she's just gonna assume that's the reason.]
(Shit - set during the summit, early W6D6?)
no i wanna set it in week one
y u do dis to me?!
bc ilu
I can accept this
well good bc im here 2 stay
/gathers in arms!
goodness!!
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