[MOSTLY OPEN] December Catch-All

[groupiedrifter]

CHARACTERS: Newton and You!
LOCATION: See Each Prompt
DATE: Dec 1st onward
CONTENT: Newton faces the consequences of his own secrecy - and gets help for it! Alt title: A dumb bitch in action.
WARNINGS: Medical issues, including an alien-induced seizure in one prompt.


I. Back to the Station | [OPEN] | Locations: Kitchen, Infirmary, and Others!

[Returning back to the station doesn't quite... feel as victorious as usual for him. For one thing, he's got a friend who is for some reason still under some weird effect of the dream — and on top of friends also getting hurt, there's that unspoken elephant in the room for a lot of them: the dreams that were shared, those vulnerable moments that leaves a lot of the orbers feeling too seen. But it's more than that. It's... like something's missing. He's got this awful itch he can't mentally scratch, this feeling that he's missing something important, carelessly lost track of an important thing he should be addressing.

But when he thinks about the dreams, he sees the people he'd visited, and he sees himself as a child, himself at a concert and being attacked by kaiju... Nah, man. It's stupid. It's a stupid feeling, and he's just tired.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and making himself a huge, unwieldy cup of coffee in a pot in the kitchen, he makes enough to offer those around him. Anyone familiar he's quick to wander over to, smiling a bit more genuinely; after all, he's relieved to see people awake and alert. And of course, don't think for a second he's not gonna check up on his crew in the medical wing. You'd better be resting in that damn infirmary, so help him...!

He still feels off... exhausted.

But it'll probably go away, so whatever.]

II. Morning After Meme (But Not a Meme) | [OPEN] | All Over the Station

[It does not go away.

Some part of him thinks 'I need to plan a post-mission party or sleepover or usual thing, something we can all relax to', but most parts of him just thinks about how nice it would be to sleep some more. Coffee doesn't really cut it, and as the days tick by, he finds himself more and more unable to focus on his projects, or get himself to perk up with caffeine. What the hell, right? Spend a month stuck in and out of dreaming, and now his stupid insomniac brain has decided insomnia is out of style.

So he sorta starts having weird sleeping patterns.

It starts mostly with falling asleep at the desk he's got set up in the lab; slumped over his papers, he snores softly, but it's mostly drowned out by the loud rock music on his phone that can't seem to keep him alert. On occasion he ends up asleep at the mess hall cafeteria table, his spoon still in his hand and a soggy bowl of overly sugary cereal to his left. The sunlight room also leaves the opportunity to find Newton, sleeping on his back with a comic book called The Space Warriors of Zar draped over his face (what a generic-looking manga, looks like one of those big robo shows with the combining mechas...).

It becomes a real problem when he gets so sleepy and ready to hit the bed that he stumbles into the wrong room and crawls under some other poor sap's sheets. So very sorry if you either walk in to find a snoozing, snoring lump under your blankets or open your eyes to Newton sleeping a foot away from you.

Typical Ximilia nights, am I right?]

INTERLUDE PART 1 | What Happens When He Sleeps | [CLOSED]

[In Newton's waking hours, he has no memory of the aliens in his head. But when he's dreaming, he remembers everything — every. little. thing. The precursors that linger in his sad eroding brain tinker and tanker with his free will, but Newt remembers here. He remembers Clara and Peter, Hermann and Yzak, Sabriel and Elthree, Raleigh and the Doctor... They had been in this dream world for a moment. They may not remember, but he saw what they tried to do for him.

It fills him with determination.

And, more importantly: bitchy pettiness.]

NEWTON GEISZLER, YOU ARE TESTING OUR PATIENCE—!

[The precursors all squirm in outrage, but their crescendoed voices are just barely audible over the sound of the music blaring from the speaker Newton has put between them; he sits with his chin on the top of the machine, biting his lip as it nearly trembles into a manic, victorious smile.]

♪ I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down ♪

TURN IT OFF THIS INSTANT-!

♪ I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down ♪

DO YOU THINK YOU CAN DO THIS FOREVER-

♪ Pissin' the night away, pissin' the night away ♪


III. i'm gonna writhe & shake my body | [CLOSED to Daisy, Blue, and maybe Bones?]

[The mental war wages and rages on in the coming days, but it all kind of goes tits up on December 10th. Not that he'd know he was pissing off aliens in his head. He wakes up from his memoryless nightmares this day as he does any time sleep abandons him, but it's something worse. It's something wrong. His head hurts worse than he thinks it ever has, so much so that he can't think straight; the colors that dance in front of his eyes scream medical science at him: symptoms can include temporary visual or other disturbances, ones that strike before other migraine symptoms: intense head pain, sensitivity to light and sound, and —

Nausea!

Ah, yes, that's the one that makes him stumble into his bathroom.

He's pale and sweaty but a little more put together as he steps out of his room; don't ask him how he's managed to button his shirt or put on his shoes. He couldn't tell you. He mumbles to himself:]

... Migraine aura usually occurs within an hour before head pain begins... and generally lasts less than 60 minutes... Scotomas, shimmering spots, check and check... numbness, check... muscle weakness, yessir... Speech, er, mmmyeah, yeah...

[He looks down at the drops of blood on the floor, blinks. Looks back at the drops of blood that lead from his bedroom door to where he's standing. Then looks at the red spots on his dress shirt.

... Huh.]

... Nosebleed, check.

[Oh no, he finally thinks, Maybe I should've just admitted something's wrong. There in the hall, his eyes roll up in their sockets before they snap shut, and he falls backward like his strings were unceremoniously snipped. The occiput of his skull bounces uncomfortably against the hard ground as his arms and legs begin to twitch and seize, muscles spasming, chest heaving, all while he's caught up in the flashing images of long teeth and serpentine eyes and bio sludge stewing monsters in its depths-

It's an unpleasant thing to run into, the convulsing figure on the floor, but someone's got to, right?

Sorry, Daisy and Blue.]

IV. Whoops? | Location: Infirmary (December 10th) | [OPEN]

[Ah, if it isn't the consequences of my actions.

In a very short, very unpleasant dream, he's lying on the floor of the endless white expanse, crumpled into a very still pile with his arms and legs splayed out. He breathes in deep. Holds it. Breathes out. He doesn't open his eyes here, but he can hear the precursors chattering. We pushed too hard. But he was getting on our last nerve, what else were we supposed to do to shut him up? Great, we've broken him; how are we going to use him if we break him? Humans are so frail. How were we supposed to know just how frail? Like bugs! Like fleas and ticks!

Newton slurs, ... Fleas and ticks are hard to kill...

And in reality, as he lays in an infirmary bed, he wakes up grumbling:]

Fleas and ticks are hard to kill.

[Oh. Oh, shit, right. He's resting in the infirmary. He remembers waking up from it at some point, getting looked over — bedrest, his mind supplies. He's only been here for a couple of hours, but he feels like it's been days for how little of it he's actually spent awake. Concern and guilt and panic hit him like a hammer; is he gonna have to actually admit it all now? That something's horribly wrong?

Duh, of course you are.

He's not allowed to leave for the next few days, just until tests are done and he's certifiably safe to walk out on his own and be left to his own devices, but it doesn't mean he's gonna like being stationary. Like... yes, he did absolutely have a medical crisis happen recently, but he's supposed to go on his routine jog! And work on his stuff in the lab! And plan dumb movie nights!

You deserve this, you lied all this time.

Sure, but it doesn't mean he has to accept his punishment like a good person should.

By now, Daisy might've already let people know. Or maybe they felt Blue's sudden burst of despairing energy when he'd tried to enter Newt's head during the seizure (spoilers: it sucked for Blue, not that Newton even remembers him being there; too busy seizing and all).

Or, y'know, they would've just poked their heads in and saw that he was in here.

This ship is too damn nosy for it's own good.

It's because they care, stupid.

When did his inner monologue get so mean?

Uncalled for.

............

Said to the wall ahead of him, he mumbles wearily:]

Fuck, I'm craving chips and salsa like crazy.

V. WILDCARD?

[This is a catch-all for December, so feel free to throw me a prompt or do a starter here!]

Comments

Here we go :(

[morethan084]

[Daisy’s on her way to the training room when she hears an odd noise in the distance, she can’t quite place what it is but she hurries off in that direction to find someone on the ground. Her stomach drops when she realizes it’s Newt.]

Holy shit.

[Quickly getting on Newt’s level, Daisy’s by no means a medic but she knows what a seizure looks like. The blood running down his nose is what really concerns her. Her hands are shaking as she gently places her hands on him.]

Newt, can you hear me?

[Carefully, Daisy rolls him onto his side as she looks around for anyone else who might be nearby.]

I need help out here!

[She shouts, knowing there’s got to be at least a few people in the rooms surrounding them.]

[firstroar]

[others may be physically near, but Blue isn't one of them. it doesn't stop him from noticing, however. Newt is one of the handful of people here that he has something of a bond to, and with that bond comes an unconscious awareness of any distress that may rattle him and, by extension, the tether Blue's mind has made to him.

he's not swift enough to sense the danger until it's well and truly upon the man, as Blue was in the midst of conversing with Yzak elsewhere. all that stops when that steady stream of agitated, Newt-y energy is halted by the seizure, and that's all Blue needs to send himself that way.]

Newt...!

[Blue's a pale, flickering ghost which phases into view, descending beside both Newt and Daisy, red eyes bright.]

His thoughts-- how did this happen?

[morethan084]

[That voice sounds vaguely familiar, and she turns around to see where it's coming from just in time for Blue to appear right in front of them.

Oh. He's talking to her in her mind.]

I don't know, I just found him like this.

[It takes Daisy a minute to process the first thing he said.]

You can hear him?

[Then he's got to be okay, right?]

II

[bossily]

[Sharing a bed with Newt isn't a new thing for Clara. What is new is falling asleep in her bed for a nice, restful nap and waking up to have Newt's face right there in her personal space. She doesn't realize that it's him at first and gives a startled shout as she moves to sit up.

Panic subsides quickly as she realizes who it is. Concern for the fact he just crept into her room and her bed takes over, and she frowns as she reaches down to feel at his forehead.]

Good morning, starshine.

[She gives him a little shake, trying to get him to stir.]

Wake up so I can yell at you, Newton.

[groupiedrifter]

[Newton takes an extra few attempts to rouse, and when he does, it's to look at her with bleary confusion. Maybe a sign of his ridiculous sleep patterns, but: he still has his glasses on, crookedly sitting now, as if he'd just crawled right in without bothering to remove them. He smacks his lips and stretches his legs down like a housecat before he looks more mindfully at her.]

Yo, Clara... What're you doing in my bed...? [He shimmies himself closer, making dumb smooch sounds at her, because he thinks he's totally funny (even in this dumb sleepy state).] You here for some kissie kissie benefits or what?

[bossily]

[Her broken arm is currently out of its sling, and she's cradling it close to her chest so she'll stop doing stupid things like bumping it around. So it looks distinctly like she's clutching her heart in offense, something that the wide eyed look she's currently giving him doesn't help.

When his words finally sink in and she winds up wrinkling up her nose in disbelief is about when she stops looking like he's just gone and offended her.]

This is my bed. My bed in my room that I was napping in first. [There's a pause as an eyebrow sharply arches, lips pursing together with amusement. He is such a dork.]

And...kissy kissy benefits, seriously?

I ... FOR NOW (so before the 10th)

[coordination]

[ Yzak isn't around as much physically the first couple of days after returning to the station. He had thrown in his Charter magic to the cause, and though he's careful and has an excess of physical energy due to his being a Coordinator, the hungry orb took a little more than his training's prepared him for. So he's fine! He's just ... tired because overuse of Charter magic does take a physical toll. He's spending most of those couple of days grabbing what he needs (tea, coffee, food, books) and relaxing in his room.

On day two he's a little more perky, but still not at 100%, so it's then that he comes into the kitchen looking exactly for what Newton's making. ]

Oh.

I was just coming here for that.

[groupiedrifter]

[Newt looks tired.

But you know, they all probably look pretty tired. S'not that out of place. Yzak certainly looks like he could use some shut-eye himself, and so Newt holds up the pot of coffee with raised eyebrows and a relatively pleasant demeanor. There was, uh. A lot said in the dreams they shared, huh? Maybe they can just. Let sleeping dogs lie, for now.]

You like it strong enough to turn a hole in your stomach?

Or should I get the sugar and cream and all that beginner's business?

[coordination]

[ Dreams? What dreams? There were never any dreams.

"So why was Yzak so much more ornery for the rest of the mission after he woke up" shhhhhhhhhh. ]

Basically. I only take the smallest bit of milk with it. I don't require anything else.

ii;

[kovach]

[ at first, he thinks he's somehow in the wrong room, considering he hadn't actually spent the night in his own and had slipped out further into the morning hours, coming back to his room only to seek out his cigarettes (because he's at least courteous enough to not go on smoking in clara's). but he finds them there on the side table, right next to a particular pink unicorn bag that's very undoubtedly his.

which means the snoozing, snoring newt definitely ended up in the wrong bed last night. ]

Hey. [ he utters, voice deep and still a little groggy from freshly waking up from his own sleep. lifting up his leg, he gives the sleeping body a nudge with the bottom of his boot. ] Get your ass up.

[groupiedrifter]

[What a coincidence, Newt had just recently been in Clara's room this week, so like, we're just all trading rooms together. Someone give Kovacs a key to his room too, so they can work on completing this unholy trinity, right? Might as well, since everyone else Newt sees is a mess of hot sad people in need of comfort.

... And no, Newt does not categorize himself as hot.

He's obnoxiously cute.

Anywho, the man who has stolen away Kovacs' bed is so deeply asleep right now that the little nudge with the foot does fuck-all, just gets him to grimace and curl up more where he lays, yanking the blanket up and over his head.]

Mmpf.

Closed to Bones | December 11th-ish

[groupiedrifter]

[Newton sleeps like the dead — pardon the poor comparisons — for a good half a day, maybe more than that. Eight hours turn into fifteen before his eyes finally peel back open again where he's lying, somewhat propped by pillows and feeling like his body's made out of lead. Blinking bleary eyes, he realizes the blurry vision probably has to do with his lack of glasses. He pats around with a clumsy hand to find them folded on the small attached tray beside him, and then tiredly slides them back on. On cue, his head gives a little throb of discomfort, but it's certainly not the catastrophically awful pain in his head from before he'd collapsed...

Nevertheless, it has to be said:]

... Oooow...

[Wait, maybe his head hurts because he's got a big lump on the back of it.

He touches it tenderly, licks his dry lips, and tries to piece together what's happened the past 24 hours. He remembers waking up here and there, slurring short replies before vanishing back into the sweet void of unconsciousness. Something about what his name is (Newt, that was the answer, just Newt), something about osmotherapy (intercranial pressure, that's not good), maybe some grumbling from McCoy, maybe a few worried eyes looking down at him before everything went back under water... Water... Water'd be nice right now.

He slowly tries to sit up using the handrails, looking a little lost.]

cool this just did not send mea culpa maxima

[homeostatic]

Hold your horses, Newt.

( There is an art to appearing at a patient's side as if from the ether itself, alerted to Newt's waking via the various tells on his monitors, upticks and activity ahead of that soft groan. Laying a hand beside Newt's on the rail, Bones finds the bed controls easily, directing him from that angled position to something more seated. )

Just relax now, I'll get you propped up. How are you feeling?

Wildcard | Infirmary

[morethan084]

[Daisy's come to check on Newt, but he's been sleeping. So when she checks in with Leonard and finds out he's awake, Daisy drops whatever else she might be doing to go there. She might've broken into his room to grab his phone for him...

What? She knows first hand how being stuck in a bed will make anyone want to crawl out of their own skin.

There's a few others in here, so Daisy is careful to keep her voice low as she approaches Newt's bed. There's no hiding the relief on her face as she speaks up,]

Hey. You look like shit.

[Of course she's gotta tease him.]

[groupiedrifter]

[Newt's also been blessed with the Curtain of Privacy, which is just... y'know. A flimsy plastic curtain that makes him a little squared-off space. He's not sure he loves it, honestly, so he might rip it down in the next few hours. Propped up a bit and looking weary but ultimately alive, he looks over to her with a little grin, trying to sit up a bit straighter on his pile of pillows; he's still kind of drained, but he's certainly alert. And not slurring words. Or seizing. Small mercies.]

Like shit made out of gold.

If it isn't my knight in shining armor.

[This... will be awkward. He remembers enough to know she'd been the one to find him and get help, of course. So he knows she, uh... saw him in a pretty wretched state. Embarrassing, man. He feels like such a dumbass, and he wholly expects a line-up of people to tell him just how stupid he's been.]

iv. whoops, indeed.

[bijective]

[Hermann wasn’t aware of Newton’s whereabouts until he had to ask. Imagine his dismay to discover his friend had been discovered recovering from a seizure. And one would be foolish not to speculate where’d such a frightful neurological condition might stem from.

He knows coming into the infirmary with an inkling of annoyance will further stew the pot. This is now something well beyond their control. Stay reserved and be there for your friend. That’s all he can really do.

The doors quietly hiss open as steps inside Newton’s room. His head feels as though it is in the beginning stages of (yet) another nasty headache. He makes a mental note to pop by Dr. McCoy’s office for a proper consultation.

Hermann can already hear Newton's nonsensical mutterings from his bed. His delicate brow raises in interest as he sets a small tray containing a glass of water and a hot towel by his friend’s bedside.]

I believe I spotted a jar inside the kitchen not too long ago. Perhaps if you’re on your best behaviour, I might be able to smuggle in a morsel or two.

[Hello, Dr. Geiszler. Good to see you in good spirits.]

[groupiedrifter]

[Newton, for once, does not react with informal greetings and over-eager, over-energized attempts at distraction. He just looks over at his new company with a look that can very adequately be described as quietly panicked and mortified. Hands curl in his blankets, and the little monitor hooked to his arm relays a quickened heartrate on its screen. He'd spent so much time hiding all this from Hermann, ignoring it and lying outright, and now he's here and he'll know, he'll know and he didn't want him to know.

Swallowing hard, he tries to be himself anyway. Same ol' Newton Geiszler, ha ha, isn't this wild? Wild that they're here, totally just hanging out in medbay?]

What counts as best behavior? Because I might start building weird stuff out of the bedside monitors if they don't watch out.

IV

[coordination]

[ Eventually, EVENTUALLY!! Soon after Newton finally wakes, Yzak is here to visit. Part because of how worried Blue's been, but mostly because of how worried he's been as a result of everything that transpired. He just wanted a nice lunch! What he got instead was a frail telepath passing out in his arms and a buddy whose state was a great cause for concern - doubly so, because until he woke up, it was all wondering and getting caught up in his own thoughts. Which Yzak happens to do easily, when it comes to the well being of the people he actually likes. ]

You're up. Finally.

[ He greets when he drops by (has he dropped by before to check? don't worry about it and don't ask). ]

[groupiedrifter]

[Luckily, Yzak catches Newton before other particularly unpleasant conversations happen — so he's tranquil for the moment, or at least mostly so, and as he turns slightly to the sound of Yzak's voice, the small smile is more a grimace as he tries to readjust the obnoxious heart monitor wires that snake out of his disposable medbay pajamas.

After all, Yzak believed in him. And he blew it. Big time.

So he's ready for the lashings.]

Uh, yeah. Didja' miss me?

Wildcard, please?

[spoilers]

[ She may not be in the middle of it all, but River does pay attention to what happens around her. She doesn't visit in the infirmary. Not because she isn't worried, but because she decides there's no reason for them both to be uncomfortable. She waits until he's released, leaning casually against a wall when she finds him and acting as if she hadn't actually been looking for him. ]

Hello, stranger. Anything interesting to show me?

[groupiedrifter]

[He's not in particularly high spirits when he leaves the medbay, even if he's so utterly relieved to not be confined to a bed now; it wasn't particularly fun, and he feels a little wobbly, like he has to remember what it's like to be back on his feet. Maybe he should just drink tons of coffee to perk up.

He's in the middle of settling down on one of the couches in the community room, feeling a little out of place, like having that seizure suddenly changed his standing in the crew. It didn't right? He's still just Newt, huh? But he feels heavy, and everything that happened before his release from the infirmary leaves him staring at a far wall more than sorting through the pile on his lap.

Her voice distracts him, and he looks over with a sheepish smile as he waves one of the CDs in its paper sleeve.]

A new stack of DVDs from the item drop? Don't tell anyone I've been hoarding them.

[He's gonna make sure everyone watches them, of course. They're mostly classics, with some choice kid's movies, too. Monster's Inc.? A fucking gem.]

wildcardin' it, post-12/13

[droide]

[ Elthree heard that Newt was in the infirmary. She didn't know why, she didn't know how long. She had thought to leave a surprise for him in the lab, for when he made it out. Unfortunately for her, he was cleared to leave sooner than she anticipated, so her plan of leaving the surprise with a note is foiled when she walks into the lab and comes face to face with the man himself. ]

Oh. You're here.

[ Don't sound so disappointed, El.

Anyway, she tries to hide a small handheld item behind her back, feeling a little caught out. ]

[groupiedrifter]

[He's distracted from cleaning up the desk space by El's appearance, of course. And it's welcomed, because he'd spent the last few hours staring at walls and solemnly flicking through his iPhone's music playlist, unsure what to play. Go figure, he's not really feeling all that great, especially after the conversations he's had in the infirmary — or the fact that there are medication bottles in his room with pills to be taken twice a day.]

In the flesh.

You here to tell me you're disappointed to see me, or what?

[It's said humorously, but also kind of not?]

post heartbreak hotel—

[naloxone]

[ there were few things in life that marta took more seriously than her job in and dedication to healthcare. ever since arriving on this station, there hadn't been anything more familiar than the four walls of the infirmary, and her work there had helped to ground her where nothing else really could. so while it isn't a personal attack whenever a patient would flagrantly disregard doctor's orders, it also kind of is.

at the very least, marta's not about to allow it happening under her watch. ]

Newt? Newton!

[ kitchens, mess hall, armory, the labs, his room — completely void of the man and by now marta's growing just a little panicked he might have flounced to the north wing and done something foolish—

well. even more foolish.

she is quickly running out of rooms. ]

You better be in here—

:') he owes you a good christmas present for this

[groupiedrifter]

[Newt panicked a little once he'd left the infirmary, but not because he was worried about the staff there hunting for him; mostly, he was just mortified at the thought of any of his friends seeing him glossy-eyed and disheveled, wandering the halls like some braindead moron who couldn't cope with the day. So he retrieves his phone and earbuds from the lab and then makes the quickest beeline he could for the sunroom.

There's this little patch on the edge of the room, just behind a big synthetic tree, and he slumps down in its shade, still donning his hospital pajamas and mussed hair. It's an easy way to calm down — find a quiet place for a loud mind and then wait until the uproar of bass and drums distract him from the anxiety or sadness that knots up in his throat.

He's being a dramatic bitch, he knows, and one step away from Panicville, population 1. Anywhere but the hospital bed sounded good, though. So he closes his eyes where he's nestled up against the tree and listens to the sounds of the music so loud, so piercing, that it scrambles his thoughts.

... But if Marta's eye is hawkish enough, she'll notice the pale blue pant leg and bare foot from downhill where it pokes out from behind the tree. Or the smell of a cigarette that he's also pilfered from his lab drawer, which he's just lit and is currently putting to his lips. Okay, so his old smoking addiction is rearing its head again; could happen to anyone.]