tsuntrader | sloooowwwpooookkkkeeee [written/action]

sloooowwwpooookkkkeeee [written/action]

[Silver is Silver is Silver. Upon finally waking up, he immediately tries to pull himself up... And it's a bad idea. His head spins. Despite the fact that he's awake, he's still very weak, and trying to act like he's not gave him a big reminder of that. He rethinks his actions and slowly pulls himself up into a seated position.

So where is he? What time is it? How long has he been out? ...Where's his journal? That's the most important thing right now, he has to-

There it is.]

[His handwriting is downright awful, but it's legible, especially since he's slow enough about it. And he only has one thing to say.]

Is it over yet? None of you died, right?

[The you is directed at the people he knows, but he is far too drained to make that distinction or ask much else. ...Might be a good idea to let him know just how late to the party he is.

Or visit him. There's always the visiting option, although that option might not be pretty; as long as it's been, it still doesn't change the fact that he more or less looks like he's about to die, like he won't open his eyes if he closes them again. He barely even has the energy to hold himself upright.

But company would be nice, especially since he's... Not exactly going anywhere. He has his Pokémon, of course, they're all but hovering over him because he's okay and he's finally awake (jeez guys, calm down,) and he even has Chandelure in his arms (because he needs to be reassured that everything's alright and that he Did Good,) but it would be reassuring to see that everyone's, you know. Okay.

And absolutely not the other way around, because he's totally just tired.

Yep.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[...?] It's been around a day, right? [That's his best guess, anyway.]

Try a week.

[...]

You're messing with me. [There's no way he'd still feel this bad after a week. No way.]

If I wanted to mess with you, don'tcha think I'd shoot for somethin' loftier than a week?!

Edited 2012-11-04 21:35 (UTC)

...I don't know. Maybe. [He's way too tired for this.]

The answer is yes.

Okay. [A week, huh...]

...Next time you pull somethin' like that, I'm gonna come there personally and knock the living daylights out of you, shift incompatibilities be damned.

Okay. [It's... Part because he's too out of it to want to debate it that much, and part because it's over the journal and he doesn't want to get his feelings all over it. He at least has enough awareness for that.]

I'm glad you're alright now, at least. [Gold doesn't care about getting feelings all over the journal.]

...I think "I'll be alright" might be more accurate, here...

You kiddin' me? After a week of naptime, you should be rarin' to go!

I feel like I could fall asleep for another week.

Sorry, you only get one week. You'll have to take a raincheck.

Yeah, yeah. [Just don't expect him to be bright eyed and bushy tailed.]

[Sup, he's now sitting in your window.]

After all, we've got lost time to catch up on! [Don't ask how he got there. Or do ask.]

[...It takes a little longer than it should for him to turn, look at Gold, and process that he just came in through the window.

He looks awful. Completely awful. Pale, sullen and unfocused eyes, only barely managing to keep himself upright... And how slow he is only drives that point home. He's awake, but he's not well.

Gold, how...]

...Right. [Right, lost time...] How'd you get in here?

It wasn't an easy feat, but I tirelessly scaled the building to reach you! [He took the elevator up to this floor, climbed out an open window, and shimmied over to Silver's window.]

...Right. [Sure you did.]

Really! [Well, he's not lying, technically, even though he's definitely stretching the truth.]

Uh-huh. [Stretching the truth makes it less believable, Gold. You should know better.]

Man, whatever, I'm not here to convince you.

[...] Hey.

C'mere. [Away from the window. Within arm's reach.]

[

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[Just do it you jerk]

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