VFF The Book Continues part 5
POSTED BY: Colt999
UPDATED: Monday, March 16, 2009 23:49
VIEWED: 74804
PAGE 3 of 15
Colt walks into the galley to get a cup of coffee. He sees Mobbex standing next to the cabinet chugging down what looks to be sake.
*under his breath* That’s probably not smart…
Quote:
Originally posted by Strangebird:
Mobbex: *Glaring at him.* "Alrigh' fine... I'll 'pologize ta the lady."
To the lady? Colt wonders what had gone on in there. He looks up right as abbey walks into the room. Deep Plum shirt with thin straps and that black suede skirt that reminds him of the grav failure… He is forced out of his daydreaming by Mobbex’s next action.
Quote:
Originally posted by Strangebird:
*He holds his stomach, then with a pained groan vomits a gush of bile and alcohol all over her shoulder and down the front of her expensive looking sleeveless top.*
Colt *to Stan*: Get him to the doc and clean this mess up.
Stan: But Mobbex has this job for the next month… *Colt glares at Stan and he changes his tune.* Sure Captain. Right away.
Colt disappears down the hallway after abbey.
Stan *to Mobbex*: But I’m adding in a couple extra chores to your pile…
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*Trying not to gag, she starts walking briskly back to her shuttle.*
abbey *to herself*: He is the most vile creature out there.
*It vaguely registers that someone is following her, but she dismisses it, given her current state. Then the most peculiar sensation began. Where he had vomited on her began to burn as if it was on fire. She stops and looks over at her bare shoulder. It was turning an angry red.*
abbey *grousing *: Even his bodily fluids are toxic.
*The burning sensation spread, engulfing every inch of her skin that has come in contact with the vomit. She lifts her shirt off her skin and notices that the area under her shirt that was soaked is now turning colors as well.*
abbey: What the…
*She starts to see black spots float into her peripheral vision. Her equilibrium falters and she loses her balance. Someone catches her elbow just as she is about to fall.*
Colt: I got you abbey. You OK?
abbey *slightly dazed*: Something’s not right…
*Colt sees her shoulder and winces.*
abbey *knees beginning to weaken*: It burns…
*Colt guides her to the floor as her legs give way. Colt holds her face in his hands and looks into her eyes. Her eyes are slightly glassy.*
Colt *growing more concerned by the moment*: abbey? Darlin’? Can you hear me?
Abbey *faintly*: Don’t feel so well.
*Colt realizes that something is affecting her somehow. In a flash, he remembers that Mobbex had been injured earlier. Oram had probably given him a painkiller… His heart quickened. Panaflex. She is reacting to the Panaflex Mobbex was taking. He knows he has to get it off her as soon as possible. He picks her up and carries her to the crew shower. Once inside, he carefully enters the stall and turns on the cold water. He stands behind her, holding her up underneath the stream of water. After a couple of minutes, he feels her movements becoming stronger and more purposeful.
Colt: abbey? Can you hear me, darlin'? Say something!
abbey *slurring*: Is it raining?
Colt *smiling at her response*: You OK? *she didn’t answer* ABBEY!
She suddenly jolts awake, her body recoiling underneath the icy cold water. She tries to back away, but Colt holds her under the stream of water.
abbey: Gorram it Colt! Let go of me!
She lands an elbow into his gut and he falls backwards into the wall. She turns to face him, eyes blazing. She looks him over. He is completely clothed, but soaked to the skin. They both shiver from the icy water.
Colt *rubbing the spot where she had hit him*: I can see you’re feeling better.
abbey: Feeling better? How in the hell did I get in here? *she folds her arms over her chest and glares at him.*
Colt *standing up*. Mobbex puked on you. He had been taking Panaflex. You were having a reaction. I couldn’t think of anything else to do.
She looks over at her shoulder and sees the mess it is in. He can tell she is searching her mind to fill in the gaps, but is having a bit of trouble.
abbey *faltering*: I don’t… I don’t remember...
Colt: You need to make sure it is all washed off. *He exits the shower and closes the door behind him.* Might as well shower here.
abbey *from inside the shower*: I don’t have anything in here! No soap… No shampoo… NO CLOTHES!
Colt *grabbing his own soap and shampoo from his locker, he holds it over the top of the stall door*: You can use mine. I have a robe here as well.
abbey: Well, feel free to go about your business then.
Colt: Not going to happen. You nearly passed out and you don’t even remember how you got down here. I ain’t leaving you on your own.
abbey: Fine. *as she takes the items he offered to her from his hands* There’d better not be any peeking.
Colt: Promise. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.
abbey snorts from inside the shower stall as she turns on the hot water. He was doing OK, making sure he’s thinking on all manner of gentlemanly things until the clothes she was wearing dropped one by one over the top of the shower door onto the floor
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*Oram has stalked off to her room, once inside she takes a few deep breaths and calms down enough to stop seeing red. With her urge to kill quenched for now, she changes into her PJ’s, purple and black checker boxer shorts and a button down purple t-shirt. She crawls into bed, pulling a thick book out from her bedside draw and reads from where she left off.
Not long into the book, she hears a commotion outside, and realises it's Stan calling for her. She pops her head out of the door*
Oram: What?
Stan: He just vomited all over the place… including Abbey.
Oram: *looking from Mobbex to Stan* That explains the paleness… and the smell. Bring him in.
*They both get Mobbex into the infirmary and sit him on the bed/chair. Oram takes a penlight out and shines it in Mobbex’s eyes, he winces and pushes her hand away, she pauses for a second*
Oram: Have you been drinking?
Mobbex: *defensively* I only took a couple of sips!!
Stan: More like he chugged a pint of sake.
Oram: You what…? You have a concussion, you idiot! You’re on a dose of medication to keep you awake… alcohol is a depressive! *realises who she’s talking to. She then gets a needle ready and injects him quickly* That’ll help the nausea and help your kidneys flush out what you’ve just drank. Look… you’re gonna have to be kept here, can’t risk anything happening or such.
Mobbex: But this bed is mighty uncomfortable, how am I expected to sleep?
Oram: You’re not. You’re expected to sit down, shut up and get better. I'm the one who has to sleep here. You stay awake
Stan: Um… I have a mess to clean up… I'll see you both in the morning.
*Stan leaves and Oram goes about getting pillows and blankets for both her and Mobbex, she hops up on the bench, where the spare bed is and lays on it, staring at the ceiling. It’s silent for a few moments….*
Mobbex: *obviously bored* Soooooo….
*Oram just groans and shuts her eyes tightly*
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*Colt found a set of sleep clothes in his locker, happily strips out of his wet ones and puts them on. It was nice to be warm again.*
Abbey *from inside the shower stall*: I think I’m done.
You make sure all that stuff is washed off. Take extra time. Hell, take all the time you need.
Abbey: I’ve been in here 30 minutes already. I’m using up all the hot water, Colt.
Use as much as you need. If anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to me.
Abbey *defiantly*: That’s it. I’m done. *He hears the water shut off*
*Colt is concerned that she didn’t get all the drug washed off of her, but is more worried about how he is going to get a towel, then the robe to her without any… er… “incidents.” He must have been thinking too long, because the shower door opened and she sticks her head out.*
Abbey *annoyed*: A towel would be nice. You expect me to drip dry?
*The mental picture that popped into his head wasn’t anything resembling gentlemanly.*
*Brought out of his thoughts by the intense glare he was receiving* Oh.. Uh… Here..
*She snatched the towel out of his hands, dried off and wrapped it around herself before exiting the shower. She looked in the mirror at herself, leaning on the sink a bit.*
Abbey *fatigued*: You have a comb or a brush?
*Colt is staring at her shoulder. It is mottled and red looking, resembling an actual burn. He could also plainly see the tattoo from where he was standing, it was affected as well.*
Abbey *getting annoyed*: COLT! *his attention snapped back to her face.* A comb or a brush?
*Grabbing a comb from his locker and handing it to her* Err…. Sorry.
*She starts to comb her hair, working out the knots.*
Abbey: What is wrong with you?
*Changing the subject* How do you feel?
Abbey: Still a little woozy. Tired. And like I got the worst sunburn ever.
Can you breathe all right?
Abbey: Yes. No problems there. Probably because I didn’t ingest it direct.
Good. I’ll have the doc check you out thoroughly when you get down to the infirmary.
Abbey: No infirmary. I want to go to my shuttle.
No darlin,’ Oram’s gonna take a look at you.
Abbey *eyebrow raised*: Darling?
*Ignoring her statement* She’s gonna make sure you’re OK? That’s a certainty.
Abbey *leaning tiredly back against the sink as she hands Colt back his comb*: Fine. But she can come to my shuttle. I’m tired and I want to sleep in my own bed.
*Colt puts away his comb, pulls out his robe, hands it to her and turns his back. She changes into it. She starts to walk past Colt towards the door but stumbles. He catches her.*
You OK?
Abbey *nodding*: I just want to lay down and sleep for a few days.
*He puts his arm around her waist to support her* Then let’s get you back.
*Miraculously, they made it back to her shuttle without running into anyone. He was thankful, because trying to explain why he was wearing his sleep clothes and why she was clad only in his bathrobe would have been difficult. When they got there, she went back towards her sleeping area and pulled open a drawer, bringing a sleep set out.*
Do you need any help?
Abbey *rolls eyes*: No, I don’t need any help. *She disappears around the curtain and changes. He hears her wince in pain as she puts on her shirt.*
You OK?
Abbey: Yes.
*He hears her slip into bed and waits a few moments before sticking his head around the curtain. He looks around the room, obviously searching for something.*
You have a chair around here somewhere?
Abbey *yawning, eyes drooping a bit*: A chair? Why does that matter?
I’m staying. You can’t be left alone. I don’t want to chance it.
Abbey: I don’t have a chair in here.
Then I’ll take the floor.
Abbey: You *yawns* don’t have to do that. Floor’s not exactly comfy.
I’ll do what I need to. I’m not taking any chances.
Abbey *seconds from being asleep*: Just sleep on that side of the bed. No touching though.
*Nervously slipping into the bed with her*: No touching. I get it.
*He l
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Quote:
Stan: "Um… I have a mess to clean up… I'll see you both in the morning."
*He heads to the storage closet under the stairway beside the infirmary. Rummaging around he finds two ratty old towels with numerous holes and stains from dozens of various origins. He also grabs a jug of caustic cleaning solution and, with a grumble and a groan, heads back to the galley.*
"Rrrr.... Ruttin' piece of worthless dà nǎo sǐ wáng....."
*Stan arrives in the galley and walks over to the area splattered with his crew mates vomit. As soon as he screws the lid off the cleaning fluid his eyes start to burn. He growls and sets about mopping up the vomit and cleaning the deck-plating. About twenty minutes into the ordeal he hears footsteps on the deck and looks up to see Sky entering the galley. She notices him with a look of suspicion and confusion.*
Sky: "Uh... Stan?"
Stan: Yeah... huh?"
Sky: *Moving past him to the kitchen* "Why are you cleaning what looks to be vomit off the deck... and crying?"
Stan: "What? I am not crying..."
Sky: *Raises and eyebrow and shoots him a skeptical look.* "Looks like crying to me, with tears streaking down your face and all."
Stan: "I'm not crying.. I'm having a reaction to these fu
ing chemicals. I don't do well with this heavy industrial stuff."Sky: "Ok... sorry I asked. You gunna be ok? Don't need to go wake the doc or anything?"
Stan: *Still cleaning the deck.* "Nah, I'm fine. I just need to finish this tǎo yàn chore and take a shower."
*Sky sets about making herself a glass of some sort of powdered beverage. When she's finished she passes Stan again on her way out, though she stops shy of leaving.*
Sky: "Who exploded anyway?"
Stan: "That idiot mercenary.... he hasn't an ounce of brain in that oversized head of his."
Sky: *Chuckling* "Yeah... well good night."
Stan: "Heh... good night."
*Stan spends another half hour cleaning the deck. Then, feeling satisfied it couldn't get much cleaner, heads off to drop the towels in the dirty laundry. Taking pleasure in the knowledge that Mobbex will be handling laundry duty next... if he gets on his feet by then. After retrieving his winnings and tossing them in his room, he decides he should take a shower then try to get some sleep.*
*After a refreshing, but somewhat cold and weak, shower.*
*Clean, relaxed and no longer itching, Stan enters his room and lies down on his bunk. Lying on his mattress, trying to fall asleep he looks over and can faintly see the outline of his fathers journal.... maybe sleep won't be so easy.*
<--------------------<<<<-~~~~(*)~~~~->>>>-------------------->
"True glory consists of doing what deserves to be written, and writing what deserves to be read" Gaius Plinius Secundus
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Mobbex: *joins his hands behind his head and exhales deeply* Soooooo... basically, y've got to keep me up, right? All night?
Oram's whirls her head toward him, a fierce glower on her face.
Moobex: *gives her a look of utter incomprehension* Wh... what'd I... *frowns as he gets a clue* Hey now, I wasn't hintin' at nothin'... you... Mrghhh!
They stare angrily at each other for a moment, then...
Mobbex and Oram, in flawless synchro: Bah! Forget it.
They lie silent for the next couple of minutes, much to Oram's delight. The low-pitched hum of the ship's engines gradually lulls her into a semblance of sleep as the seconds tick by.
As for Mobbex, he twists and turns restlessly on the smallish couch, hoping to happen on a more or less comfortable position.
His racket seems to disturb Oram's peacefulness as the diminutive doctor shifts on her make-do bed.
Mobbex: Hey, hum... *clears his throat raucously* ...y' mind if I peel down some? These togs stink of barf.
Oram, her voice halfway between a groan and a snort: Just when I thought I'd hit rock bottom... *sighs* ...sure, go ahead.
Mobbex strips down to his boxer shorts, then hurls his noisome attire through the doorway and plunks himself back on the infirmary bed.
Yup, he thinks. Gonna be a long night.
Secret Agent Stan: The ducks have settled in the coffee shop......
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*Oram listens to Mobbex’s attempts at keeping himself awake, including his attempted conversation. She answers when needed but feels herself slipping into sleep. Next thing she knows she wakes with a jump and finds Mobbex standing over her, holding her wrist*
Oram: Yrrthn… *blinking* Wha’ you doin’?
Mobbex: Ya having night terrors; was getting bored with watching you twitch.
Oram: *rolls her eyes, than says sarcastically* Thanks, you’re concern overwhelms me.
Mobbex: *has obviously missed the sarcasm* Was nothin’… just didn’t want ya to roll off the bench.
Oram: *her head is hurting and she feels ill* Yeah, whatever. Look. I’m gonna go up and make myself a cuppa… I won’t be long.
*She leaves the infirmary heading for the galley*
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*He woke up in the morning with abbey against his chest, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. He took a deep breath in, unconsciously tightening his grip around her. She stirred, sighed softly and fell back asleep. He looked down at her. A small smile graced her face. He placed a kiss on her temple and carefully slipped out of bed. It was early, so he managed to get to the galley without notice. Forgetting the mess they had left in the crew shower the night before, he rushed down there to retrieve the evidence. He had another stroke of luck and no one had been there yet. He gathered up everything and wrapped it them up in the towel she had used. He set their boots on the warming grate in his bunk to dry them out and decided to wash their actual garments later on with the rest of his laundry. He couldn’t have abbey touching them, not with the reaction she had. He got dressed and put a spare pair of boots on before starting back towards her shuttle. He came upon Oram on the way.*
Hey doc. Could you go look in on abbey?
Oram *scrunching her eyebrows at him*: Why? She sick?
You heard about Mobbex puking on her last night, right?
Oram *rolling her eyes*: Yes. Got all the gory details when Stan brought Mobbex down to the infirmary last night. *She smiled a bit* That had to be nasty.
*Not smiling* Was Mobbex taking Panaflex?
Oram: I think it’s been helping him out a lot.
Do you think his stomach contents would contain Panaflex in it?
Oram: Yes. Especially if he just took some. *Her eyes widen as she suddenly realizes what Colt was getting at.* Is she OK?
I think so. She insisted on going to the shuttle last night. I stayed… uh… I checked in on her a bunch last night. Seems to be breathing fine.
Oram: Is she burned? *Colt nodded and she turned back towards the infirmary.* Is she asleep?
Yes. I mean… she was the last time I checked.
Oram: She’ll probably sleep for a while. I’ll let her rest some more, then go check on her.
Good. I’ll be up on the bridge. I want an update.
Oram: Yes Captain.
And Oram? Do you think we could get rid of the stuff altogether? I don’t want anything like this happening again.
Oram: My sentiments exactly.
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*abbey opens her eyes and tries to focus as the room spins just a bit. She groans as she covers her eyes, but it doesn’t help much.*
*She reaches behind her and feels the bed. It is vacant and the sheets are cold. Colt was gone and had been for a while. Her heart falls a little. She woke up twice that night, briefly fighting through the haze to realize he was there with his arms wrapped around her. Even though she hurt and felt like she was drowning in a sea of fatigue, he made her feel safe. It was… nice. She pushes that thought out of her mind.*
abbey: Probably for the better… No need to muck things up right now.
*She feels so tired. Like she could sleep for a week. Her head hurts and her shoulder burns like fire. She reopens her eyes, sits slowly up, buries her face in her hands and leans forward as far as she can. After sitting that way for a bit, she stands up slowly and goes towards the mirror to check the burn out. It is red, like a bad sunburn. She gingerly touches it and winces. She tries to move it, but can only comfortably raise her hand as high as her shoulder.*
*She looks into the mirror and back towards the clock. The room started to spin a bit again. Before she knows it, she is at the sink, retching.*
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*Stan wakes up feeling somewhat congested. He feels around beside his cot for his glasses, which are setting atop the journal resting on the small box that serves as a bedside table.The ship is quiet, besides the low rumble from the engines he can barely discern a light clank of footsteps on the deck. He coughs to clear his throat as he sits up and stretches and rubs his sore neck. He gets up, grabs a clean pair of dull green coveralls, a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt and changes. Dressed and partially awake he heads out of his room and up to the galley to make something to eat.*
*He enters the galley and nods to Spots, who's seated at the table eating a bowl of oatmeal. Stan walks over to the kitchen and boils some water to prepare some instant grits and a cup of strong tea. A few minutes later he takes a seat a couple of chairs down from Spots and begins to eat.*
Spots: "Sleep well last night? Sky told me about the.. incident."
Stan: *Sipping his tea* "News travels fast on this boat. Yeah I slept ok. It's going to take a week before I smell anything but vomit and industrial cleaning agents...."
Spots: *Glancing down at his nearly finished bowl of oatmeal* "Oh well... I'm done."
Stan: "Sorry, have you seen the Captain this morning?"
Spots: "Yeah, I think I saw him heading up to the bridge just after I woke up."
*He gets up and sets his bowl in the sink before heading off towards the aft hallway*
Spots: "Seeya.."
*Stan finishes his tea and bowl of grits quickly and leaves the galley in the direction of the bridge. Going over what he's going to say to Colt before hand. Entering he sees the captain seated in the pilot's chair, nervously fiddling with the communications settings. He doesn't notice Stan as he comes in.*
Stan: "Uh.. Good morning Captain."
Colt: *Turning his head sharply* "Wha..? Oh Stan.. good mornin'."
Stan: "Are you busy with anything? I kinda had some ideas about the job and I wanted to run them by you before I did anything."
Colt: "No.. not really. What about the job?"
Stan: *Taking the right seat.. typically the Captain's seat.* "Well.. I was wondering if we needed anything... like wireless microphones or receivers. Sounds like we'll need to stay in contact with each other and..."
Colt: ".... and hand comms will be a bit obvious. Yeah.... I was thinkin' that, myself."
Stan: "Well I might be able to help. I have a friend, he might know some people."
Colt: "Ok. How good a friend?"
Stan: "You don't have to worry about this guy, sir. I won't tell him all the details, but I'd trust this guy with my life."
Colt: *Staring appraisingly at Stan* "Ok... but don't you tell him anything he don't need to know."
Stan: "Yes sir, do you think we'll need anything else?"
Colt: *After considering a moment* "Well we'll need a boat. For at least six, no more."
Stan: "I think he can help with that too."
Colt: "What's this friends name anyway?"
Stan: "Joey Li, he's practically family."
Colt: "Good 'nuff then. This goes bad, you best run. You and me won't be friendly, 'that happens. I'm trusting you, you're part of my crew. Dong liu ma?"
*Stan nods then stands up*
Stan: "I can send the wave from up here, if you want I can also take your shift. I'd like some more hours flying this old bird."
*Colt looks back at the comm settings, tweaks a dial then gets up from his seat. As he passes Stan he claps him genially on the shoulder.*
Colt: "It's all your's kid... I could really get used to havin' more than one other pilot aboard."
*Stan takes the pilot's chair and runs a check to make note of the current navigational headings as the captain stands staring out the veiwshield for a moment.*
Colt: *Turning around and leaving* "Just keep 'er on this heading, holler over the comm if we get troubles."
*Stan leans back in the chair, gazing out at the blackness of space, marked only by the shimmer of a few small bodies of reflective mass and the pinprick lights of billions of stars. He stays this way for a
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