♚ four | text.

[indebts]

[Ciel is sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, looking extremely sulky - but also a fair bit paler than usual, almost sickly. Every now and then, he shivers, despite that he's already wearing a number of layers of clothing. He tugs the book closer while he rubs at his temple and groans.]

I'd assumed it would go away by yesterday, but my

Comments

[In Person]

[raises_shotas]

Sebastian had been watching his master for some time with concern. He entered the room, bearing a tray containing a pot of tea that smelled slightly unusual, a spicy, gingery scent.

"Shall I build up the fire, young master?"

[indebts]

Ciel almost jumped in surprise when Sebastian entered, caught off-guard - which was bad. Was he really so distracted that he would be startled so easily? Still, the smell of the tea (and it was strange that he could smell it, because these were all very cold- or flu-like symptoms) drew his attention and he was silently grateful for it. Maybe it would wake him up, too; his vision had been blurring for the past hour or so, and he didn't want to fall asleep without finishing his work.

"Yes," he snapped, feeling irritable - not at Sebastian, exactly, just... everything. "It's freezing in here."

[raises_shotas]

Sebastian bowed wordlessly and set the tray down, pouring his master a cup of tea and adding a touch of honey to the fragrant concoction. "I've prepared a ginger tea, with a hint of cloves and cinnamon. It will warm the blood and boost your immune system."

He set the cup before Ciel and then turned to move to the hearth, poking the fire in the grate and adding a log to stir it up and waft warmth through the room.

"You may have caught influenza," he said, casting a sidelong glance at the boy. "But it shouldn't be dangerous if you stay warm and drink fluids."

[indebts]

"I feel as if I'm going to pass out," he grumbled petulantly, and started to sip at the tea while he watched Sebastian build up the fire. Staring at the papers on his desk was making his eyes burn. None of this was as bad as it could be, of course - he was glad he wasn't sick enough for his violent asthma to reappear - but that wouldn't stop him from complaining. "I don't even know how I could have gotten ill, unless Ka- Miss Everdeen was also sick." It was a slip of the tongue caused by the lingering memories of the virus, his near-use of her first name, and he didn't allow it to fluster him.

He slid down in his chair, heavy-headed and too tired to stay sitting upright (he hadn't slept at all last night, which was unusual), careful not to spill his drink. "... She didn't seem to be at all ill, but I suppose it's a possibility."

[notasinglelady]

I have a headache and I felt dizzy too. It's probably the weather affecting us.

[indebts]

The weather? Well, there's some heavy fog, but that's nothing unusual for London. I doubt that I should be feeling ill because of it.

[notasinglelady]

I live in Ohio.There's a fog here but it's yellow-ish, it might be the pollution.

[indebts]

Yellow? I suppose the fog is a slightly strange hue here...

[indebts]

Ah... Perhaps the community is somehow causing it, then?

[ofhopeandglory]

... This is going to sound like a curious question, Earl Phantomhive, but what is the weather like currently for you?

[indebts]

Cold, [he snaps, but then has the manners and decency to answer properly.] It's rather foggy outside, I suppose, but it did rain recently and fog is a common sight around here.

[ofhopeandglory]

Foggy. I was afraid of that.

Is it by any chance an odd colour? Yellow, perhaps?

[indebts]

[He groans and gives England a scathing glare for making him stand up, but he does reluctantly pull himself out of his chair and drag his feet over to the window to peer through the curtains. After a moment, he returns and slumps back into his seat.]

Yes, yes - only slightly, though. I'm sure it's just the pollution. What exactly is your point, England?