005 -- text

[noracingstripes]

melleo i thinks oemthing

cna yoau you can yuo come to nvm

sorry

((OOC NOTE: as you can probably tell, Matt is pretty out of it: he won't be able to respond to any replies to this. I had to type the message with socks on my hands.))

Comments

[audio] [1/2]

[down_to_nowhere]

Hang on.

[Action] [2/2]

[down_to_nowhere]

[He sends the audio message as he's out the door, not even bothering to screen it, or to put on shoes, or to do anything but grab his keys and wallet; takes the stairs down two and three at a time, swearing and pissed and scared. Matt's door is locked, and he might be in no condition to open it, and Mello's definitely in no condition to wait, so he slams it open with his shoulder and runs to the couch. Matt's sitting, upright's good, isn't it? Mello takes hold of his arms and looks into his eyes, trying to gauge just how out of it he is.]

Matty. What did you do?

[Action]

[noracingstripes]

[He opens his eyes heavily, turning his head to look at Mello and trying to focus properly. His voice is slow.]

Mello, I - Mello, I think I'm sick. Mello.

[Action]

[down_to_nowhere]

[Mello's running down a mental checklist: reasonably lucid, eyes open, moving independently. This is bad, but less bad than it could be. For now. He tries not to think about that.]

You're gonna be okay. Can you tell me what happened?