It Only Hurts When I Breathe [Active//Open]
Characters: Agent J, anybody who feels like rubbing in his latest mistake (or, y'know, healing him. That would be nice too)
Content: J is having a pretty terrible time dealing with his bite, and has a veritable slew of people in and out of his room, talking about it and various other...issues.
Location: Bryant Park Hotel
Time: Afternoon, right after this journal entry
Warnings: This is not going to be a happy thread, folks. Not at all.
Notes: Party style, and so far as I'm concerned the subthread where he actually gets healed happens first chronologically (because having conversations while coughing up blood is incredibly disconcerting). That is all~
He knew something was wrong that morning when his arm hurt too much for him to fix his hair. Sure, it had been sore and steadily getting worse (not to mention the cough that had started to develop), but J still believed he had time before the symptoms got to be too much to handle.
The morning of the third day after he'd been bitten, he'd woken up in a coughing fit and come away with blood on his hands and pillow. Things were moving too fast. He couldn't wait.
What he hadn't realized was just how much the wound had sapped his strength. It was a struggle to get himself up and going, let alone get something coherent on the network, and he'd completely Timberlaked the filtering code as it was. That entire post had been an exercise in Making Things Worse.
Which left him here, waiting and hoping that he'd hit bottom already, if only because it left him nowhere further to fall. To put none too fine a point on it, this would not be easy.
Content: J is having a pretty terrible time dealing with his bite, and has a veritable slew of people in and out of his room, talking about it and various other...issues.
Location: Bryant Park Hotel
Time: Afternoon, right after this journal entry
Warnings: This is not going to be a happy thread, folks. Not at all.
Notes: Party style, and so far as I'm concerned the subthread where he actually gets healed happens first chronologically (because having conversations while coughing up blood is incredibly disconcerting). That is all~
He knew something was wrong that morning when his arm hurt too much for him to fix his hair. Sure, it had been sore and steadily getting worse (not to mention the cough that had started to develop), but J still believed he had time before the symptoms got to be too much to handle.
The morning of the third day after he'd been bitten, he'd woken up in a coughing fit and come away with blood on his hands and pillow. Things were moving too fast. He couldn't wait.
What he hadn't realized was just how much the wound had sapped his strength. It was a struggle to get himself up and going, let alone get something coherent on the network, and he'd completely Timberlaked the filtering code as it was. That entire post had been an exercise in Making Things Worse.
Which left him here, waiting and hoping that he'd hit bottom already, if only because it left him nowhere further to fall. To put none too fine a point on it, this would not be easy.