034 | SPAM & TEXT

[myresponsibility]

[Spam for the Infirmary]

[Being shot in the thigh is a strangely familiar experience for Peter Parker. Being poisoned with wolfsbane and spending a while hallucinating and incredibly nauseous is less so, but thanks to his enhanced metabolism, he winds up more or less okay symptom free in about an hour or two. (He makes a mental note to try and do some more research into how well he actually resists poisons and stuff like that.)

So for the first day after our latest vacation to Mirror Barge, Peter can be found napping in a hospital bed, playing Angry Birds on his phone, or inquiring after his friends and the general state of the ship. His right arm is heavily bandaged, and he's careful to keep weight off his leg, but otherwise, he actually seems kind of cheerful, if a little sedated.

A day or so later, and he'll be trying to hobble out on crutches if no one stops him.]

[Public Text]

so that sucked

sound off, where is everyone?

[Private to Gwen]

hey

Comments

[interns]

Hi.

[myresponsibility]

are you okay

where are you?

[interns]

Colossally embarrassed, but I'm fine. Surprisingly. I haven't exactly been playing it safe the last few days.

Where are you? Can I come see you?

[myresponsibility]

infirmary

dont be mad

text

[voluntaryapnea]

hey dude. look up.

[As in, he's across the room waving at you, Peter. He's sitting next to Lydia's bed as she sleeps. Yes, he's a dork.]

text

[myresponsibility]

[Peter props himself up to wave back before settling back down. Since Lydia's sleeping, he decides to stick to texting.]

you guys okay?

text

[voluntaryapnea]

yeah. some version of it anyway. are you okay though?

text

[myresponsibility]

ill be fine, i heal fast

did you talk to scott?

text

[fridgetothefire]

tolling in my room

cookies ETA like four days

text

[myresponsibility]

cool

want help?

text

[fridgetothefire]

do u actually know anything about baking

text

[myresponsibility]

its just chemistry im v good at science

[spam]

[halfofeverything]

[Alec is rarely still as it is, and the infirmary is always interesting. When he sees Peter, he can't help but smirk.]

All this progress around us and here you are, hobbling around? How...disappointing for us.

[spam]

[myresponsibility]

Oh, you know, it's not so bad. But thanks for being concerned!

[Spoilers, guess who knows you're totally not concerned about him at all and is grinning like he knows it?]

[spam]

[halfofeverything]

I have to wonder who got the drop on you. [It's okay, he'll smile right back. Sarcasm war!] What'd they do, anyway? Kneecaps, spinal bruising?

[spam]

[myresponsibility]

Maybe. Why, trying to figure out if I'm hurt enough to make this a fair fight?

[Peter Parker, A+ self preservation skills.]

infirmary spam

[walkingmeltdown]

[Blight's been taking it easy, or as easy as he can, in his nearby cot. Sometimes he has visitors, usually he doesn't. And for the most part he ignores his fellow invalids.

After a good solid twenty minutes of sounds from Peter's game though he's forced into reaction.]

Could you turn that down? Some of us are trying to experience our agony in relative peace.

[His curt sarcasm is undermined by how dry and somewhat shaky his voice still is.]

infirmary spam

[myresponsibility]

[Regardless, Peter sounds genuinely apologetic when he responds, propping himself up enough to see where you are, exactly.]

Oh, sorry.

[He leans back down and shuts the sound off. Problem solved, hopefully?]

infirmary spam

[walkingmeltdown]

Thank you. [As grumpy as he is, at least it's not sardonic.

He settles again and tries to go back to sleep, on his side with his back in Peter's general direction. But of course now that's not happening. After another minute he sighs in tired exasperation, and lifts his head enough to look back over his shoulder.]

Those sounds...I think I recognize them. What game is that?

[Text]

[neverfeltbetter]

Still breathing over here. Not doing too bad, all things considered. How did you fare?

[Text]

[myresponsibility]

could have been better, couldve been a lot worse

[Text]

[neverfeltbetter]

you get hurt?

spam

[lastrat]

[Peter.

Stop getting shot.

He's probably itching to get out of the infirmary by the time Bond shows up. He did not weather the trip well, but he's perfectly happy to walk it off. Or he was, once he was sure there was no serious damage.

So he's throwing an empty paper cup at Peter, mostly to see how that Spidey Sense does when playing Angry birds.]

spam

[myresponsibility]

[Look, he'll stop jumping in front of bullets for people when you stop killing your liver.

Peter is definitely itching to get out of the infirmary, maybe helped a bit by the fact that his phone's battery is basically winding down to nothing and that sucks. How is he supposed to entertain himself now?

So the interruption is pretty seriously appreciated. He manages to catch the paper cup without looking at it and jams his thumb a couple times against the screen before heaving a defeated sigh and tossing the thing down before throwing the cup - gently! - back to Bond.]

Nice to see you, too.

spam

[lastrat]

[God damn it people need to stop making that an ultimatum.

Bond shakes his head with the faintest of smiles on his face when Peter catches it. Little bastard. It's a fairly affectionate thought, though, which he doesn't hold onto too tightly. He's better off not dwelling on these things.

When the paper cup comes back, he catches it easily, which is much less impressive since it's heading right for him.]

Are you ready to leave yet?