[closed | graham & mikaela funtiemz]

[greasemunkygal]

WHO: Mikaela Banes & Graham Spector
WHEN: During the second wave
WHERE: Midgard 8
WHAT: ...Mikaela's infected D:
NOTES: None!
STATUS: COMPLETE

Comments

[mywrenchsaysyes]

     The door has seen better days, but likely has since been repaired after whenever that wave of Gate-monsters had come. It seemed like so long ago. Being in the apartment for very long was never something that the mechanic tended to do.

It was pure coincidence that while Mikaela was unable to catch Graham Spector in the apartment itself, she happened to collapse before the door just as came down the hall. A frown crossed his features, and his steps hastened slightly. He dropped down beside her, peering at the girl.

"...hey. You okay..?"

[greasemunkygal]

She can't even really see him, she's a little damp with sweat, and her skin is pale and clammy.

"Hot...'s hot out here..." She's a little delusional, and she shrinks away from him at first, giving him a look of blatant terror. "Get away get away get away!" Shaking, Mikaela buries her head back into her hands, murmuring something about 'Egypt' and 'Sam' and 'Decepticons'. It takes her a moment for her eyes to snap into focus, and she lunges for him, snagging at his lapels.

"Graham, I'm...I'm sick something...something bad is happening to me."

[mywrenchsaysyes]

     Hot? Hot? What was she talking about- it was freezing around here! "...." She drew away from his hand, the look on her face unlike anything he'd ever seen, and her babbling made him uneasy. "Wha..." He shook his head, and rather than doing as she had said, he leaned closer-

There were very few things that startled Graham Spector, and even less that managed to scare him. Even then, the latter never lasted for very long. But something was wrong here, something very very wrong... Mikaela moved suddenly, and with how close he had been it wasn't hard to grab him so easily. His wrench was by reflex, held tight in his hand, but he stared at her wide-eyed as she spoke again.

"...sick? No, no- you can't be sick..." They were foolish words, he could already tell once they'd departed his mouth. Even though he was wearing gloves, he could feel the unnatural heat from her body as he grabbed a hold of her shoulder. This was bad. There were others that had gotten sick. There was talk of colds. But people shouldn't

[greasemunkygal]

Mikaela can't seem to stop trembling; she's hot, she's cold, she's hot, so hot. She runs her tongue across her lips and she shifts, refusing to let go of him right away. Her expression blanks out.

"They...They're right outside, moving. Can't you hear them?" She moves one hand to press a finger to her lips, face changing from recognition of him to one that was in a faraway place. "Be quiet." She glances around again, the terror very evident on her face. She doesn't seem to register the hand on his shoulder, she can't even feel it.

Looking back up at him, Mikaela shudders and presses her lips together, face pale and sweaty as she reaches to press a hand against her head. It ached, everything ached and she sways a little.

"Sick. Really...really sick, somethings happening. Help...help me..." She releases him to fall back, letting her back slam against the doorframe with a grunt. "So...hot."