five.
A: 1447 Mitchell Road, early morning
[Considering what happened the day before, Canada wasn't about to let that potentially happen to her household again. She didn't sleep much anyway, but this morning she's up particularly early, getting to the milk before Holland can and immediately downing a bottle. The rest she tosses out, ignoring the way her stomach seems to be twisting itself into knots as she goes about her morning routine, making pancakes for the others and trying not to let on that she's feeling sicker by the moment.]
B: phone, locked to a_gentle_boy
Lucas? It's Canada. Nederland asked me to check on you after what happened yesterday. I do hope you're all right.
C: phone, open
[Being usually soft-spoken has its perks, namely that unless you catch her coughing, it's not going to be readily obvious just how weak and ill Canada's feeling right now. She'll just pass anything off as exhaustion, anyway, even if it's far worse than anything she's felt before.]
I hope everyone's doing as alright as they can, and trying to stay safe. Umm... in the interest of looking out for my housemates here, does anyone know anything about contemporary poisons? Symptoms, action speed, ways of easing suffering, things like that. I'll take anything. Thank you.
D: 1447 Mitchell Road, morning, Aug. 18
[At some point in her pretending she's just tired on Wednesday evening, Canada can't fight it any longer and curls up somewhere cuddling her bear to die. Waking up the next morning in the bed she shares with Holland is surreal, but she doesn't dwell on it, just gets up and gets dressed, going downstairs to get the milk again.]
[Considering what happened the day before, Canada wasn't about to let that potentially happen to her household again. She didn't sleep much anyway, but this morning she's up particularly early, getting to the milk before Holland can and immediately downing a bottle. The rest she tosses out, ignoring the way her stomach seems to be twisting itself into knots as she goes about her morning routine, making pancakes for the others and trying not to let on that she's feeling sicker by the moment.]
B: phone, locked to a_gentle_boy
Lucas? It's Canada. Nederland asked me to check on you after what happened yesterday. I do hope you're all right.
C: phone, open
[Being usually soft-spoken has its perks, namely that unless you catch her coughing, it's not going to be readily obvious just how weak and ill Canada's feeling right now. She'll just pass anything off as exhaustion, anyway, even if it's far worse than anything she's felt before.]
I hope everyone's doing as alright as they can, and trying to stay safe. Umm... in the interest of looking out for my housemates here, does anyone know anything about contemporary poisons? Symptoms, action speed, ways of easing suffering, things like that. I'll take anything. Thank you.
D: 1447 Mitchell Road, morning, Aug. 18
[At some point in her pretending she's just tired on Wednesday evening, Canada can't fight it any longer and curls up somewhere cuddling her bear to die. Waking up the next morning in the bed she shares with Holland is surreal, but she doesn't dwell on it, just gets up and gets dressed, going downstairs to get the milk again.]