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[stellationing]

Leave me a scenario (one of your own or choose from here) and include any particular preferences as well if you wish.

Or, if you want to just leave a comment with a picture or a word as a prompt and suggest which muse of mine you want, that works too! I might just be a bit slow with those.

Make a reply asking for anyone here on the subject title.

If you choose a character on the maybe list, I will definitely be slow with them.

If you know a specific "verse" of character you want, specify. If it's a cross-canon scene and you don't specify, you might get a CR AU.

Alternately, if you'd rather place a comment on the muse's contact post. Or if you want to do something a little more privately, let me know and I'll set something up elsewhere.

Go to the RNG if you don't have a specific scenario in mind.

Have fun!

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[vampere]

For all either of them know, it might have done. It's not like either of them are particularly familiar with the virus in question, save for the various effects it's having on them. And given that he has just as much reason as Helen to try and keep the details of his age (among other things) hidden as possible, he has rather understandably been not making a whole lot of trips down to Medical if he can help it.

(Even if he might actually be of some use in helping figure things out, given that he has done some work on figuring out cures to strange diseases.)

Besides, just at the moment he's more concerned with Helen's well-being. Everyone else can be sort out by whatever the local doctor - Medical Officers, whichever - manage to figure out, but they're the only two of them who know anything about the Source Blood and just at the moment he's not feeling particularly inclined to assume that what will work for everyone else will work for them. Even if the illness has managed to find something in them it can latch onto.

(Although to be fair, he's also worrying a little bit more about the fact that she's gotten ill in the first place. He's hardly dying after all, and certainly doesn't feel particularly ill, even if a not insignificant amount of that is him ignoring the way things feel distinctly off, in ways he can't quite explain.)

"I'll be fine."

It comes out a bit more snappish than intends though, and for someone who knows him as well as she does it's a clear sign that he is, at the very least, more concerned than he might usually be. As, for that matter, is the fact that he's very nearly hovering; something that he normally wouldn't bother with, even if he's doing his best to look like he's not hovering.

[lifelines]

"Dammit, Nikola!"

The fact that Helen has given up on talking rationally through things should be enough of a hint that she's doing worse than would ever have been expected. Normally, she is much more even-tempered and her irritation and anger can usually be held tightly in check. Right now?

The illness is affecting her temperament as well as her physical state.

She takes a deep breath, managing to push herself so she's sitting a little more upright in bed. Of course she has noticed that he's hovering. Why wouldn't she? They know each other far too well to try to pull something like that on each other. What's really getting her is that she barely has the energy to return the favour and she can't really tell if she'll feel better before he starts feeling worse. They know so little about this virus, whether it's transmittable or if it can be shaken off after a while or anything else.

With all of that in mind and her deep breath trying to clear her head, she tries again. "Nikola, you shouldn't wear yourself out. We're both ill. You need to rest as much as I do."

[vampere]

He notices it, of course, the way that her answer comes back very nearly as snappish as his had been. He knows, too, what it means, even if it doesn't do his concern any good. Neither of them know quite what it is that's been running rampant through the station - even the medical staff don't entirely know, last he'd heard - and given their unique biologies this is something that is not particular comforting. Especially because it means that neither of them have any real idea if this is the sort of thing that will eventually burn itself out or the sort of thing that will linger until a swift death would be more merciful.

"Actually," he counters, "I don't."

He's splitting hairs, and he knows it, but it is the truth. He never really has needed as much sleep as any of the others, not since the Source Blood had awoken the genes that had lain dormant within him. But he does come to settle gently on the edge of the bed, although there's still a sort of restlessness about him. As if he might, at any moment, spring back to his feet and go right back to his hovering and never mind that doing so isn't bringing either of them any closer to figuring out the problem at hand, much less how to deal with how their Source Blood-altered genetics might react to anything they use to try and deal with.

"I haven't for centuries."

[lifelines]

Considering how many times Helen has actually died or come damn close to it, at this point she wouldn't put that past anything. Except for the fact that the universe still seems fit to bring her back from the edge each time and she is still rather terrified of dying permanently in the long run, she might be willing to let mercy carry on.

Nikola's counter is far from merciful and Helen manages to roll her eyes petulantly. "You also haven't fallen ill in centuries. What makes you think that you won't also need rest?"

They're both splitting hairs, but who's counting?

She groans as a cough rips through her then. This is worse than the feeling she'd had when she took the Source Blood injection on that fateful day so long ago. So much so that she doesn't try to shove him away. If anything, when he settles on the edge of the bed, she shifts to give him room. Whether that's room to sit easier or room to lie down next to her is up for debate at the moment. At the moment, she's much like a child who has fallen ill, sulky about being less able to move about than normal.

[vampere]

For now, at least, he doesn't do more than shift to make use of more of the room she's offered. While there probably is good reason to suspect that he might need to rest at least more than he's used to needing to, neither does he actually want to do so. Not when it would mean admitting that he's not as invulnerable as he likes to pretend to be and never mind that she's one of the few people who's well aware of the fact. And can probably see straight through him even now, for all that this has never been enough to get him to actually change his habits any.

(To say nothing of the fact that it is still a point of familiarity, and that's something that he's more than willing to cling to, given the situation as it currently stands.)

Fortunately, he's saved from actually having to answer her question about the possibility of him needing rest by her sudden outbreak of coughing. And sure, he's aware that she's most likely well aware that he's avoiding the question at hand, but just at the moment he doesn't particularly care either. He'll rest later; for now there's her well-being to see to, especially given that he knows full well that she'd have still been trying to work if she hadn't been ordered to bed.

"You're sure there isn't anything I can get you?"

[lifelines]

Helen is aware, all right; she has spent far too many decades and centuries at his side not to know when he's avoiding her. Seeing as she is in no condition to protest, she decides to leave it be. The coughing subsides, but the aching within her seems to double. She resists the urge to whine about it somehow and settles for pulling a face.

There are a lot of things she wouldn't mind if he got her; none of them are things she will particularly say right now, but they are still there. Like as not, he knows what she would ask for. Things like her medical supplies or anything she could use to continue studying this bloody virus. None of that she has the energy or stamina for, either, so rather than risk an actual argument over it, she just lets it rest, so to speak.

"I don't know. How's your magnetism?" she asks instead, taking them back to another lifetime ago, when she had asked him that very question in the middle of something like a crisis. It's meant as a tease, something to get them on a better subject than dealing with this virus and the fact that she can't even move without pain. She even goes as far as to reach an arm out towards him, very clearly giving him permission to be as forward as he likes.