( closed? )

[underwhelms]

Who: Jean-Jacques Leroy (underwhelms) & his entourage
What: Explosion and sickness stuff.
When: October.
Where: Olympia & Wyver
Warning(s): N/A

[ closed starters below! if you would like to do something, please feel free to shoot me a pm or hit me up on plurk at whysofork. or just comment here. or just tag in wildly, i can roll with anything! ]

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[tricksune]

[ He doesn't even know what a cootie is, stop it. By straining his social muscles, he can guess that this is some kind of jab; he makes a face that's much too haughty for a simple task like preparing a tray of food, breaking a small bread loaf in half. It's all ridiculous, but the conversation brightens a little for it. ]

I wouldn't put it like that, but I did keep myself busy.

[ It's more like vigilantism, and something he's still not quite used to sharing. That's a flattering way to look at it, though. Western comics are pretty cool. ]

Regardless, you're hardly any older than I am. [ don't talk like you Know Things, JJ...... Yusuke's clearly got his life in order when he's the one setting dinner in front of him. ] I would surmise that our aspirations are not so different.

[ Besides matters of romance, clearly. ]

[underwhelms]

[ This is the life. Hanging out in his pyjamas, having friends over and serve him food. JJ looks ridiculously pleased as Yusuke sets the soup and bread on the table, it's not the first time since he'd gotten sick, but the novelty has yet to wear off. He's sure to offer Yusuke his thanks as he does so, offering a quick prayer before he tears off a piece of bread to dip into the soup. ]

You're probably right about that, we're both artists at heart.

[ Albeit ones with radically different hobbies. It doesn't really matter to him however, and he's surprised at how little his image of Yusuke has changed after finding about his dalliances in crime fighting.

He's shooting the other teen a smile as he blows on the piece of bread, but the bite never makes it to his mouth when pain, sudden and strong cracks up his legs, sharper than the dull aches that had been plaguing him before this. It's stark, the bread falling from his fingers and splattering back into the bowl but his fingers don't stay numb for long, one hand forming into a fist that bangs into the table, and the other gripping his thigh, nails digging into the bare skin there.

His eyes are already squeezed shut, blind to Yusuke's expression as he kneels over, mind overrun with the feeling of his muscles cramping so hard it's as though they're trying to tear away from his bones. ]

[tricksune]

[ Yusuke's already onto dishes midway through JJ's sentence (mostly annoyed at his own clutter), and it'd be a domestic scene (a running sink, idle chatter, not much else) if one of them wasn't sick. Even then, JJ's been pretty energetic since he got here, occasionally fading in and out of his usual energy, but always bouncing back. It's probably stupid of him to expect things to stay that way. He of all people should know better.

The sudden bang and clatter makes him start; the noise catches his attention, but seeing JJ suddenly go taut as a wire—pale and curled into himself—is what has him hurrying over to his side. ] JJ—!?

[ His brow's furrowed as he grips JJ's shoulder, surprised at how he can go from feverish to clammy in the blink of an eye, eyes darting about uselessly in the face of a new symptom. There's not much else he can do until the spasm passes—he just reaches for his hand, trying to pry his fingers loose before he hurts himself. ]

[underwhelms]

[ JJ's aware of Yusuke there, hovering and trying to help, not that JJ can acknowledge him. It's fear and pain both that have paralyzed him; scared that any movement he makes, even as slight as breathing, might make the situation worse. He can't even cry, even though he wants to, and he wants to ask whats even happening to the citizens of this city— if they're going to die from this disease— he'd rather just die.

His fingers dig deeper into his skin, drawing blood and looking almost like he'd rather rip the muscle out himself than deal with the steady build of tension. It's almost accurate, and pain can drive people to extreme lengths, but he's gotten banged up before. It's a natural byproduct of being an athlete: sprains, strains, and stress fractures, some injuries more excruciating than others, and all of them with the chilling fear that he's messed up too badly and won't be able to compete anymore.

But it always gets better. The memory of the hurt always fades, and the body always heals.

He breathes and there's a moment of respite where Yusuke can take his hand, red under the fingertips, but it's brief and the ache explodes back into his senses, and now he's gripping Yusuke's arm like it intends to break it, Yusuke's skin giving way under his nails too in a sharp spike that leaves him trembling for a second, ready to split apart.

And then its gone, the numbness exquisite in comparison to what preceded it, JJ's head falling forward with a deep gasp, forehead resting on the table as he gathers his breath. ]