(OTA + CLOSED) if i cannot move heaven

[immortalpoet]

WHO: Vergilius and YOU + closed starters
WHAT: Catchall for TDM prompts, May + June catchall - if you want a closed starter for your character, DM me!
WHERE: All over Neo Tokyo, etc.
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: general Project Moon warnings (opt-out post), will update as needed



>source

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OTA - MAID IN HELL

[immortalpoet]

[The wear he has on is ill-fitting. But this is only one thing to be miserable about.]

[LILITH's local Color-grade Fixer is looking more like a wrought-out husk of a human being than usual. The bags under his eyes are more prominent, like he hasn't slept for a week. Out and about (in maid attire), you can find him rubbing at his head with a pained expression as he's looking at medications in a local pharmacy, murmuring to himself:]

This damn headache.....tch....did she really curse me...?

[Wuh-oh. Curses?]

[bowtography]

Mr. Vergilius?

[ Honestly, she'd spotted him from outside, doing a double-take at the sight of him in a maid outfit, and now here she is in her butler fit to look him over with some amount of concern. ]

[immortalpoet]

...March 7th.

[He's looking blearily over at her, not even paying any mind to her outfit.]

Would you...happen to know where there's fever medication? I can barely focus...

[bowtography]

Fever medication... oh, hold on, let me see what I can find. Maybe you should sit down outside?

[immortalpoet]

No, I'm fine.

[Wobbling a little in place...]

It's fine. Really. Just find it.

[bowtography]

...

You're tilting.

[ Sir. ]

[immortalpoet]

No I'm not...

[........]




[Maybe.]

[bowtography]

[ She is casting him a very suspicious glance, but also turning to grab some fever meds.

And maybe some additional painkillers. ]

[immortalpoet]

Ergh...

[He'll watch her, barely moving, before it feels like he has to exert a lot of effort to shift away.]

...Have you ever heard of....people cursing others with illnesses?

[wheft]

[ ishmael was going home from a tiring day at work and -- she has to do a double-take at seeing vergilius in a skirt in the fuckin' wild. ]

V-Vergilius?

[ she then covers her own mouth. she didn't mean to speak but she was just so shocked... sorry boss ]

[immortalpoet]

....Ishmael.

[Here comes the threatening red eyes...though it seems more kneejerk reflex than anything, disgruntled and sick.]

What do you want.

[wheft]

Nothing. I was just passing through.

[ and now that she's on his sights there's no escape... sigh. ]

What are you doing here?

[immortalpoet]

...Trying to find medicine.

[His red gaze slips off of her, back to the medicine in front of him.]

I think I was cursed.

[wheft]

Cursed how?

[ did he somehow encounter an abno or........ ]

[immortalpoet]

[In the most blunt tone in the world:]

Death goddess.

[wheft]

[ death goddess... hold on, she does know someone like that -- ]

Ereshkigal?

[immortalpoet]

.....I think that's what her name was. I was distracted by her attempting to scare me away. She was like a frightened cat.

tags you here instead

[frostfist]

[ As hilarious as it would be to make fun of Mr. Red Gaze himself in a maid dress, Wriothesley is not so cold-hearted (usually) to mock a man he's barely spoken to (and who, according to Ishmael, could flatten him with one pinky finger).

Instead, he sidles over, hands in his jacket pocket, making sure to look carefully at the medicines lining the shelves instead of at the man in a maid dress. ]

Looking for something in particular?

[immortalpoet]

...

[He is giving a rather judgey look towards Mr. Nosy Himself (in Vergilius's view) but given his state, he's settling back towards grumpily staring over the medicines.]

For...fever. Body hurts like hell.

[frostfist]

[ To be fair, Mr. Nosy deserves this because he will resume his nosy behavior shortly.

For now, he scans down the aisle and then, when he doesn't see the medication he's looking for, steps down and around to check the opposite side. Pitching his voice a little louder so it carries: ]

You shouldn't be out and about if you're not feeling well.

[ Not like he and Vergilius are particularly close friends (or even friends at all) but Malkuth seems to like the guy and he likes Malkuth, so by some associative law out there he feels a little compelled to watch out for the guy. ]

[immortalpoet]

Who are you, my mother?

[He watches listlessly as Wriothesley moves around the aisle, before his hand shifts up to rub at his forehead.]

I'm fine. Just need some medicine and I'll be okay.

[frostfist]

[ Damn, not the mother comment.

There's a pause - a little too long to be fully natural or comfortable - before he fires back with one of his usual quips. ]

Just a concerned friend. [ They are not friends. ] Also, I'd hate to clean up the mess if you were to suddenly pass out here.

[ Yeah, that's it, that's the only reason he cares. ]

Just the fever? No other symptoms?

[immortalpoet]

Tch. I won't pass out.

[Tough guy(TM).....]

Fatigue. Body aches. Fever. Feel like my head is swimming. Feels like a virus honestly.

[frostfist]

[ Yeesh….. ]

Were you spending time around someone sick earlier? [ That's a lot, my man. ] It sounds like you really should be getting some rest.

[ He picks out a box, flips it over to read the back, and then starts ambling back so he can pop it into Verg's hands. ]

[immortalpoet]

Oh, no.

[Thanks for the box. He blinks at it, before he says, deadpan:]

I was cursed by a goddess of death.