(no subject)
Who: thesevencodes, i-speak-softly, gaijin-ninja, nexuschamp
What: A not-so-dire illness.
When: The wee hours of Sunday morning.
Where: The Hamato apartment, in C6.
Summary: Don feels a little sick. Raph and Leo freak the hell out. An honest discussion is had by all, and Many Theories are Expounded.
Rating: Raph is here. It probably won't be less than PG-13.
The problem with being a turtle, is that you cannot curl into a fetal position when your stomach hurts.
Don rolls over and presses his face into the pillow.
No. Bad idea.
He rolls over again, and breathes in the cool air of the quiet apartment.
Why does he feel so hot?
He's going to get up. He's going to get some water and turn the thermostat down, just a notch.
No, wait. No climate control in Luceti. He'll have to open a window.
Windows. What a novel concept.
Thank God there is indoor plumbing, at least.
Right. Getting up, getting a drink.
Very quietly, because Leo, the infamously light sleeper, is right there on the other side of the room.
He sits up. His stomach rolls. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, and stands. The entire apartment pitches to the left, and two-hundred pounds of turtle crashes to the floor.
What: A not-so-dire illness.
When: The wee hours of Sunday morning.
Where: The Hamato apartment, in C6.
Summary: Don feels a little sick. Raph and Leo freak the hell out. An honest discussion is had by all, and Many Theories are Expounded.
Rating: Raph is here. It probably won't be less than PG-13.
The problem with being a turtle, is that you cannot curl into a fetal position when your stomach hurts.
Don rolls over and presses his face into the pillow.
No. Bad idea.
He rolls over again, and breathes in the cool air of the quiet apartment.
Why does he feel so hot?
He's going to get up. He's going to get some water and turn the thermostat down, just a notch.
No, wait. No climate control in Luceti. He'll have to open a window.
Windows. What a novel concept.
Thank God there is indoor plumbing, at least.
Right. Getting up, getting a drink.
Very quietly, because Leo, the infamously light sleeper, is right there on the other side of the room.
He sits up. His stomach rolls. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, and stands. The entire apartment pitches to the left, and two-hundred pounds of turtle crashes to the floor.