Δ: welp, it's been about two months. (action)

[thinkin_man]

[Delta's starting to lose it again, slowly. He still visits the kitchen for food, but now seems to be much more shaky and unsteady. Today at dinner he's preoccupied with really struggling to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the kitchen table. Shakiness isn't helping him spread the jelly on that bread.]

Comments

[action though perhaps you're sick of Mark by now]

[paper_knight]

Mark does, in fact, occasionally need to consume real food. Meaning not coffee. And the dining hall freaks him out, so even if the kitchen limits his options to what little he's capable of preparing, here he is.

He stands and watches Delta a moment, curious. He's still a bit in awe of the heavy armor, and the relative grace with which Delta moves--normally, that is.

"Are you alright?"

[action NO ONE CAN BE SICK OF MARK <3]

[thinkin_man]

[He clenches his butter-knife, but soon relaxes when he realizes who the voice belongs to. Mark surprised him. Delta then drops the knife and instead, picks up his communicator.]

I'm okay, just a bit ill.

[action]

[paper_knight]

That's right. Talking to Delta means he has to put down whatever he's doing to reply. That must be incredibly annoying.
So he keeps his questions about what could possibly go wrong with an armored juggernaut like Delta to himself and, because Delta's sandwich is almost assembled, forgoes his own sandwich in favor of soup.

"Stick around and you can have some, uh..." The unlabeled can is giving him problems. He finds a can opener, dumps the contents into a pot. "Chicken noodle, looks like." Thank God for psychic cabinets. Then, because he remembers Delta's earlier reaction to offered coffee: "I'm sure there's a thermos I can put it in for you, if you've got somewhere to be."

[action]

[thinkin_man]

[Delta momentarily forgets what he's doing here. Oh right, food. He was going to make himself something to eat and bring it back to his room. A sigh escapes him. No, he wasn't that kind of sick.]

It's all right. you don't need to give me any.

[His hand rattles against the communicator. Quickly he moves to steady himself by gripping his wrist. This is pitiful. Maybe he should have just stayed in his room, but he really believed he was fine beforehand. He misjudged how off he was, possibly in part due to being so drugged up.]

[action in which Mark is a bully]

[paper_knight]

The shaking doesn't escape him, nor does the extra time it's taking Delta to type. He remembers his time on crutches, part of it spent dizzy with painkillers, and how hard it had been to be alone.

"Take some anyway. It'll go with your sandwich."

And now the soup's steaming. He opens a cabinet and--yes,thermos.

[action in which he means welll. :D]

[thinkin_man]

Thank you, Mark.

[He pauses.]

I appreciate it.

[action]

[paper_knight]

He sets the full thermos at Delta's elbow, spoons out a bowl for himself.

"If you need anything--anything at all--feel free to call. I'm up at all hours."

[action]

[thinkin_man]

Likewise.

[He eventually finishes making the sandwich.]

[Then he picks up the plate with one hand, not a good idea. He's still shaking, but he tightens his grip on the plate to compensate. Delta feels a bit less alone due to Mark's kindness. It won't be forgotten.

He drops his PDA and puts the thermos under his arm. Delta then finally takes the PDA off of the table. Carrying all this might not be a good idea, but he'll manage.]

[action]

[paper_knight]

Oh that's worrying.
Mark decides to take his soup back to his room. At least he can follow Delta part of the way there (the whole way, if Delta doesn't get annoyed), help him deal with doors without forcing the issue. Or making him use the PDA.

[action]

[thinkin_man]

[Delta has no problem with Mark helping him open doors. He's actually very grateful. When he gets to his room, however, he's hesitant to get Mark to open the door. He turns to Mark and struggles to type on his PDA one handed.]

Thank you. i can take it from here.

[action]

[paper_knight]

"You're welcome. Feel better, Johnny."

And now he'll leave Delta to it, take his now-tepid soup back down to the second floor, where he'll be brooding and hacking into Delta's transmissions. Boundaries? What boundaries.