voicemail

[memlost]

[An upbeat male voice comes on:]

Hey, it's Morgan! If you were expecting a girl, you picked the wrong picture. If not, then congratulations! But sorry too, because this means I've missed you. Leave a message!

[Beep.]

(( ooc: feel free to use this for face-to-face interactions as well! just leave a date and voice/action/etc. in the header. ))

Comments

[memlost]

[ He plops a seat down on a couch and pats the space next to him invitingly. Getting him to not fret is a pipe dream, but at least he can do it quietly...? ]

Just as vivid. At least, that's what it seems like -- hard to compare definitively and all. But right after we all woke up, Tsuna was running through the house and screaming, FIRE! FIRE! so I'd guess the vividness was a common feature, hah.

[bloodandblunder]

[ She's grateful for that, and for all that she's only been up for an hour or so, there's still so much weariness lingering in her posture when she settles in beside him. ]

Tsuna's got a lot of energy... but I wonder why it happened to everyone.

... Then again, I never really understand anything that happens here.

*her not him.... wow

[memlost]

[ When they all first moved to the housing spiral, one of Morgan's housemates was the king of sitting on couches. Morgan takes a page out of his book now and kicks back, putting his shoed feet atop the coffee table -- sneakers instead of his usual boots. He's decidedly more casual than usual this morning underneath his tactician's robe, still in his scavenged jammies thanks to the sudden rush over. ]

We came up with a few ideas, but who can say for sure? Ghosts, prophecies, cries for help... but it can't be a coincidence that this crazy fog rolled in all of a sudden.

[bloodandblunder]

[ In contrast, Noire is going to cross her bare (le gasp) ankles together, hands resting in her lap. She's still in scavenged sleepwear herself, and the circlet's absent... truthfully, it's a bit embarrassing. ]

The last time a strange fog happened, it... was back when Morgan and I first arrived, actually. Whatever was in it... a lot of people turned against each other.

[memlost]

[ He thinks back on the first part of the mass nightmare and frowns. Maybe it would be best if the prophecy idea turned out wrong... ]

How long did it last then?

[bloodandblunder]

Five... days? I think? We couldn't find any food at the time, either, so it was sort of a blur by the end of it...

[memlost]

[ Ah, the infamous food deprivation incident. And thus the other Morgan's random anecdote becomes startlingly relevant... But this isn't the kind of thing an ill person should be worrying about, is it? ]

... Have I said good morning to you yet?

[bloodandblunder]

[ Noire worries about everything, remember? But she blinks at him, bewildered-- before she giggles a little and shakes her head. ]

I forgot, too... so good morning, Morgan.

[memlost]

Good morning, Noire! Not a best morning, but not a worst either, I suppose.

[ Though he'd be hard-pressed to remember a ruder awakening. He touches his shoulder to hers, if simply because he has license to do that sort of thing now(!!). ]

Sorry if I'm a little underdressed. I didn't think to change before I left.

[bloodandblunder]

That was my fault, for making you worry. [ and she'll feel daring (and tired) enough to lean a little more against him. ] I'm sorry for putting you through that.

[memlost]

[ This -- contact without reason or purpose, contact for the sake of contact -- is still new to him, and he warms as they settle comfortably against each other. ]

It's no trouble at all. And... it's given me an excuse to see you this early in the day! So it's a point in my favor, I think.

[bloodandblunder]

[ it's not like Noire's any better. She's still looking pretty bashful, as is. ]

W-when I'm a mess, too... not that I'm not happy to see you--

[memlost]

[ Morgan's probably sporting a bit of residual bedhead himself, but he cares not a whit. He looks left, looks right, and then leans in conspiringly. ]

Wanna know a secret?

[bloodandblunder]

... Eh?

[ means yes. ]

[memlost]

I think you're really cute when you're a mess.

[bloodandblunder]

[ Morgan

why would you say that to a person with a fever

because boy is she getting hotter in the .2 seconds it takes for that to sink in. ]

C-cu-- that's--! [ incoherent noises. ]

[memlost]

[ HE SAID IT BECAUSE HE CAN ]

Um, you're really cute when you get flustered, too! ... Phew, it's good to get that out in the open.

[bloodandblunder]

[ ... Her head is just kind of thunking onto his shoulder.

SHE LEGIT OVERHEATED. ]

[memlost]

[ whoops ]

Noire? Noire, speak to me! Oh gods, you're burning up!

[ WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN ]

[bloodandblunder]

[ GOOD QUESTION.

But she only mumbles something ("mmnnngh") and shifts a little listlessly. She'll be fine. Really. Probably. ]

[memlost]

[ SHE CAN'T DIE ON HIS WATCH!!

He sits up fully and finagles her/lets her flop until her head is on his lap, then begins to fan her with a sleeve. ]

Do you need a healer? Should I call Brady?

[bloodandblunder]

N-no... [ she groans softly, bringing up a hand to her forehead. ] I'll be fine, really. It's just a fever.

... When did I lie down?

[ hi, Morgan's lap?? ]

[memlost]

...

[ girl, you are so out of it... ]

Just rest for a moment, all right?

[bloodandblunder]

I'm... not doing anything strenuous... [ but she stays where she is, lowering her hand back to her side. Funny, how comfortable this is. ]

[memlost]

Mm. And let's keep it that way. Which means I'm taking care of you today! No apologies or fretting allowed.