fissionmailed | And PLOT COMMENCES. Terrible plot. Horrible, whiny plot.

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And PLOT COMMENCES. Terrible plot. Horrible, whiny plot.

[There is a Liquid wandering the halls. Usually, Liquids are full of zest. This one... not so much. Odd, really. He's been feeling drained all day. His throat is scratchy and it's difficult to breathe properly. Worse, even his reflexes seem to be dulled! His head aches and his body is shaking with the cold. Why is he suddenly feeling the cold? He doesn't know! He's pale as death. He makes a quick call-]

Ocelooooot, where are you? I need you right now.

[-and hangs up. He can't help the rare whininess in his (particularly shaken and scratchy) voice. Liquid has never been sick a day in his life, excluding some of his imprisonment - and the less said about that the better. He leans against the wall, looking miserable, and sinks down to sit on the floor.]

This is a really rotten week... first the gray hair and now this...

DOES THE UNIVERSE JUST HATE ME LATELY?!

[His words break down into a fit of coughing and he buries his face in his hand for a moment as if that will hide his identity.]

(Long story short, Liquid is sick. It's not serious, even though he looks like hell, but prepare for whiny bitch syndrome if you approach him! He's not used to feeling this rotten.)

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...huh. You might be- [Cough.] -stuck that way then.

[He leans his head back against the cool wall. Now he's burning. Goddammit.]

Know where there's a fan around here or something? Hell, even a kitchen would do right now; it's far too hot and it'd have ice...

...It had better not be. [Pouty glare, tail curled down.] I'll have to go score the Nexus for some way to reverse it, otherwise, and -

Uh. - Hey, are you sick?

[Reaching up with his paws, trying to touch Liquid's face.]

Gerrof! [He bats the paws away, scowling.] I don't get sick! That doesn't happen!

[Sniffle.]

I think I might be, though.

[...Heh. Of all the ways his alternate self had to be like David...]

-All right. Tomato soup, then? Custard pudding? - And tea, of course.

...The kitchens aren't that far. [Offers a paw.]

[He ignores the paw, struggling to his feet on his own. God, his body feels like jelly.]

I'm not hungry. [He sounds like a whiny brat for a moment.] But tea sounds good.

[And to the kitchens they go!]

[One of the first thing James does is get a glass of water and give Liquid some kind of aspirin varient.]

...I usually take just half a pill, but you should take a whole one, I think. [Or more, but James isn't really sure of the dosage - He gets woozy if he takes more then half.]

[And then he's brewing tea, and making tomato soup with chicken and veggies, too - He himself usually did want to eat something once the painkillers kicked in. He also gets the custard, mostly because that's what David always tried to feed him when he used to get sick all the time.]

...Here. [Presents : Tea.]

[He downs four of the painkillers without thinking, chasing them down with the water and making a face.]

...thanks.

[Gratefully, he sips at the tea.]

I never get sick. Never. This... is not fair.

[Four, uh oh. James sighs, and brings out the tomato and chicken soup, and puts it in a mug. He also gets some cheese.]

You should try to eat something - You don't want to end up zonked out, right?

...David almost never got sick, either, but he was sooo cranky when he did... He always tried to feed me custard when I was sick, though. It's easier to swallow.

[Brings out some custard, too, and starts eating everything.]

'm not hungry.

[He folds his arms on the table in front of him and buries his face in them for a moment, growling in frustration. When he speaks, his words are half-muffled but still audible.]

If I eat, I'm going to be sick. Why is this happening to me?

[James pauses, and pushes the mug and plates away.]

...You might be really sick, then. [Looks at Liquid. No, that doesn't look good.]

[The chihuahua ears do not look happy, and the tail is drooping.]

I think you need a doctor, Bigger Me. [James is trying to calculate if he could take Liquid to any of the nearby Infirmaries James thinks are good.]

No. No, not happening.

[Liquid's voice turns a little sharper.]

Never ever. I'd sooner suffer.

...But why?

[Says the shrimp who probably would have died a gazillion times without prompt medical attention.]

- I wouldn't let them cut you up, Bigger Me.

[James does understand the importance of Experiments!For Science!, since he was (mostly) brought up by Dr Clark after all, but he wouldn't let any of the doctors or the scientists experiment on his family and friends just because they wanted to - Well, not if it involved anything that could potentially damage them beyond normal medical procedures' parameters, anyway. So many of those people had no sense whatsoever, in his considered opinion.]

[...Though he does understand wanting more data. Mmmm, yummy data....]

[Sigh.]

I don't trust them. Doesn't matter if they want to cut me up, that Hunter woman made FOXDIE, that Clark person made the cyborg ninja and I'm done trusting medical personnel. Too easy for them to kill or harm me.

[...Okay, he'd heard about Foxdie already, and 'that Hunter woman' probably meant the oh so beautiful Naomi Hunter he met here, not his studyaholic classmate with the thick glasses, but Dr Clark had made what?]

...Cyborg Ninja???

[Maybe it had been the other Dr Clark?]

...Dr Peter Clark, you mean?

[Shrimpy's world has two Dr Clarks, Mad Scientist Extraordinaire, and almost nobody James knows likes Para-Medic's ex-hubby. Mostly because he keeps stealing their funding. His world's Para-Medic is also somewhat more of the 'Motherly Scientist' type, mostly because she had to take care of David - and later James - more personally then in most of the other worlds. She's still a Mad Scientist through and through, though - just more centered.]

[tp://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MotherlyScientist]

....But what if you absolutely need medical help? I'll stay with you all the way, if you want. Then they can't hurt you, right?

[James does not want the Bigger Him to die, even if he'd come back...]

Don't be dumb. Everyone knows Dr Clark. And nobody knows Dr Clark. Hell if I know their name.

[He shakes his head, still buried in his arms.]

I'll bear it. I won't go near them. Ocelot will look after me if I need it.

...Okay. [James' paws gently pat Liquid's hair.]

[He goes to the fridge and rummages about inside, eventually finding a cold gel pack. He wraps it in a dishcloth and put it near Liquid's head.]

[He also gets some isotonic sports drinks because there're good for preventing dehydration, and some multi-vitamins.]

Here. - I've got some stronger painkillers, but you should get to bed first, cause they'd probably knock you out, I think...

[He gratefully takes them, staring at the drinks thoughtfully.]

Hah. Thanks. You'd think this happened to you a lot.

...It used to. I used to get sick aaall the time. -I'm mostly good nowadays, thank goodness.

[It's not that he stopped getting ordinary colds and such, it's that he stopped getting sick all the time for other reasons which nobody seemed to be able to figure out properly after almost dying at the not very ancient age of 17. He also grown an extra 2cm or so. This almost makes the fuzzy memories around that time and the video footage of him crawling after Dr Clark babbling babytalk worth it.]

[Well, no, actually, almost anything was worth not feeling sick all the time, really. His first word after almost dying had been 'Daviiid?" and his second had been 'Dr Claaaark!", he'd heard later, and it probably was just as well that he didn't remember those times very well - Most people didn't remember being a infant for a reason, he reckoned, and he'd been practically an infant for a couple of months. Though he'd 'grown up' much faster then a real baby would have, he supposed.]

[James drinks his tea, and then gets another dishcloth and tries to wipe Liquid's hair and brow. Being sick sucked, seriously.]

You got sick that often? Mn... Stupid genes.

[Everything is the genes. That is the rule of Liquid.]

[He reluctantly endures the action, ~~pouting~~ frowning a little.]

Brother and I don't get sick. Usually, at least.

...Good for you. [Sigh. He wipes Liquid's hair some more, and then goes and mixes some of the sports drink with some warm water.]

Well, first I kept getting sick for reasons they couldn't really figure out, and then I almost died when I was 17, and after that - I just got better. Nobody could figure out why, either.

[Or so Dr Clark had said. James has figured out that things were a bit more complicated then that, especially in the who figured out what catagory, but he isn't going to talk about that now.]

- I still get colds, and whatever varient of the flu that going around, and everything else, though

David hardly ever gets sick, but when he does, it's a doozy. ...He does heal quickly, though. Thankfully.

[James doesn't think everything is genetic, but he can't really ignore them either, alas.]

You know, I didn't quite get it till I came here, but - [This was mostly because both James and David had turned out quite oddly in his world - It was just that James was just so much more noticable.]

- It really doesn't make any sense at all to stick all the 'special' genes in one twin, and leave the other without. I don't think that's what they were trying to do at all.

I think what they were trying to do was - Take a cup of coffee, and make an espresso on one hand and a cafe au lait on the other.

...If you know what I mean?

...It was to see which would do better. The one raised unaware or the one raised in their care. The one without the supposedly superior genes or the one with them. Tests. Always tests. Because whichever one was better, they'd be able to do that again, as long as they had him. Father. Because it was Father they wanted, but they couldn't have him. So they wanted to make someone like him who wouldn't fight them the way he had.

[He rambles faintly, resting his head on his arms.]

I don't drink coffee.

...Everybody loves Father, everybody wants Father...

[But nobody gets Father Dearest, in the end. Right?]

Ahh, well, never mind that. - David loves coffee, for some reason.

What I was trying to say was, espresso and cafe au lait aren't superior or inferior to each

other. There're just different.

[What he really suspects, though, is that the whole point (or one of the points, anyway) of the creation of LET-01('James') was to see just how much of Father's oh so special genes they could cram into one human being, in whatever combinations that seemed interesting...]

[...Till the paper bag broke from having too many apples stuffed into it. Or didn't. Data would be generated and gathered, either way.]

[He's not going to mention that to this alternate of himself, though - Not now, anyway. Bigger Him was much too obsessed with genes in general, James thinks, and when James thinks that, you know you're in trouble.]

...Liquid? [James shows Liquid his syringe gun.] I have vitamins and...More painkillers. Not the really strong ones, because they'll put you to sleep I think, but. Things that should help you breath more easily, too. I'm not a doctor, though. - Do you want me to?

[Liquid lifts his head enough to stare at the gun.]

...I don't think I could feel any worse. But why do you have that?

...Because it's useful to have around? I like having my medical stuff with me.

[And there're easier on his hands then any of the real guns, even the small caliber ones James usually carries around.]

...are you even qualified to own one of those? I didn't think they even existed. And why do you have- [Oh right, weaker alternate.] right, right, sorry.

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