[Video]

May 31st, 2012 05:11 pm
asano_san: (sad Keigo)
[personal profile] asano_san
[Compared to a lot of the Port this month, Keigo's been in good health, and only has to sniffle and cough a few times during his post. Life with a rampaging guilt sickness is pretty easy when you blame everyone else for your problems.]

What's the point of making new friends here when they all leave you behind? First Kazuma. Now Takuto's gone.

So who's next? Anyone else want to make friends with me so you can go home and forget all about me later?
integrity: [Season Seven] (♆ Always prepared.)
[personal profile] integrity
As everyone is delicately tip-toeing around what a few select people have figured out, let me spell it out for you, for the individuals who lack the brain cells to rub together.

It's guilt. The feelings of guilt. Decisions that you regret. Things you've done that you wish you could have done differently. That is what is causing you all to be so sick, why certain people are targeted and certain people are supposedly immune.

If anything, you should stop feeling sorry for yourselves and start wondering why, exactly, some people are so healthy. Those are probably the people you should be watching warily -- because I doubt they're all saints.

In other news, Castiel is in a coma, which I'm sure is a grand surprise to all that know him and have connected piece A with piece B. Stop texting him and calling him. I'm going to feed the NV to my dog shortly if it keeps going off.

The first person to suggest that I take him to a hospital will have their throat cut.

Continue panicking at your leisure. I am going to return to my work.
paterelohim: (= blanket fort)
[personal profile] paterelohim
[Chuck, to put it delicately- he looks like shit. Warmed-over horse manure. Pale, sweating, shaking, lips chapped, breathing a little labored- he's obviously extremely sick. Despite this, he isn't in a hospital, but his own home. And despite this, he rubs his hands together, licks his lips, and manages to look a little lively.]

Okay, so- [Hold on, coughing.] I've been thinking.

[He backs off a little, revealing something shocking: he's in the wheelchair he was in for three months, that he hasn't touched in almost eight. It's a hover-chair, as some might remember- hovering two feet off the ground. There's an IV drip attached to it, hooked to Chuck's arm.]

I mean... we're all pretty much sick now. People are dying. It's awful. But you know, I think one of the worst things about plagues - [ha ha another horrible, hacking, rough coughing fit!] - fuck, is- the emotional aspect of it, you know? The isolation.

Millions of people died in Europe, but I bet almost none of them wanted to talk about it. Why... why would they. Everyone was suffering the same. Nobody wanted to just whine. But that doesn't mean that all the things bothering us just go away. We don't just lose our albatrosses because we got sick.

They say stress can affect your body. Being stressed or alone can make you die younger.

[You see, Chuck knows what the plague is. Thanks to an extremely helpful angel, he knows how to cure it. He knows He can cure it. It's not like He even has a choice about this- it's more like a calling. An obligation. There has to be a reason He went from healthy to throwing up and passing out within six hours, right? Clearly, Chuck has some shit He feels guilty about. And if there was ever a time to let loose some of that walled-up Power... it'd be now.

After all, they say only God can forgive.]


Maybe it's not the way to go. Maybe one way to help get through this is to not wall ourselves off like that- you know?

I mean, whatever happens... there aren't any new experiences or. or original thoughts. Whatever's tormenting you, there's someone out here who gets it.

There's always someone who can understand.

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