sick days

[merryeccentricities]

Joly wakes himself up sneezing. He's momentarily confused to find he's still on the couch, and almost fully dressed-- why wouldn't he be in bed in his own room?

Oh, yes. Because Lesgle's in the bed, and doesn't think he's Lesgle. Well. If that doesn't resolve soon,they'll probably both need to go to the infirmary. Right now...Joly tries to think. It's more complicated than it should be. Right now...there should be tissues here. He'll need to send off for more.


...Or sneeze all over his hands, that's apparently the immediate plan. All right, right now he's going to wash up. And then send for tissues.

Comments

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

He presses Joly's hand a little tighter than necessary. "Bah. I wadt to rebember it all because it was abazig. But just dow I thig I had better practice being Bossuet."

Which is a distressing thing to admit. Even more distressing is the certainty he'd felt that Bossuet--Joly--Bahorel--Enjolras--all of them were fictional characters. Characters he'd had opinions about, some of them, though Bossuet and Joly hadn't been as memorable as others.

He wraps himself tightly around Joly. There, make it really awkward to change back.

"Mmmbph. I propose stayig in bed ad dot travelig amog addy stars at all. --Oh. Say. Jolllly, we could try agaid to figure out the tele-whatsit."

[merryeccentricities]

"Mmm. Budd then we'd hab to move." Which seems like a horrible idea. They have blankets and not-moving right here, it's a good arrangement.

Although the cats seem to disapprove, judging by the way at least one of them is standing directly on his head. And probably that buzzing noise is the beetle wanting out,and not just happening in his own head. "Fide. We'll ged the...poindy condroller...thig. Hag od, I'll ged ub."

...In a minute. He'll get up in a minute.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Do you wodt."

Laigle illustrates his point by nudging Joly's shoulder a little more firmly into the mattress. Staying put. "I'b a, an officer in the Udited Federatiod of Bladets, and you are a civiliad. I will go on the away missiod."

Oh, hell.

With a fair amount of coughing and snorfling and groaning, Bossuet gets to his feet, and putters around for a few minutes, giving the beetle another bowl of fiddlehead ferns and collecting another box of paper tissues before coming back with the remote. Which he hands to Joly.

"...I'b promotig you to sciedce officer. You do the...just...bake it so."

[merryeccentricities]

Joly makes a sound of general objection against the whole world of Doing Things when Lesgle gets up. "You're dot ad obbicer. You can'd gib be orders. We're a rebublig." It's a stirring protest, no doubt, and the fact that he says it into the mattress doesn't change its sincerity. But he still takes the remote when Lesgle gets back.

He hasn't really studied it since they moved in. It didn't work, and that's mildly interesting, but there's been more interesting things to consider, and it's not as though they expect to have TV. But right now this might be the most challenging thing he's capable of considering. So consider it he does, turning the remote over and around, poking at buttons and sliding around panels.

And then he starts giggling. It's a snorfling kind of giggle, but he can't stop.

With great deliberation, he slides the batteries out and turns them around. The television goes on with its electric un-sound, and a field of waving grain fills the screen.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"What. What?" Joly is giggling, and he doesn't know why, which is...a fairly usual turn of events, really, and Lesgle responds to it in the usual way, by prodding Joly's knee insistently with his toe. "What? Did you--oh God."

There's something on the edges of his consciousness.

"Did you just...did you...did you reverse the polarity?"

[merryeccentricities]

That does it; Joly's down. He falls back on the mattress, waving the remote in the air, and laughing too hard to breathe, which is admittedly not that hard in his current state.