This post is William's IC inbox at ataraxion. You can drop network or action stuff that doesn't quite feel like it fits or warrants a post on the main communities in here.
[Well okay that sounds bad. Really bad. While Netherlands might not be prone to panic (unless dude constantly wears a mask that fucks with one's head and then goes on anti-anxiety medications to stave off the subsequent panic attacks and then forgets to take said medications, you know, unless that, which luckily has not happened right here) he is a worrywart.
And really, he's mostly not sure about talking to Cassandra. (A little bit annoyed with the thought of inviting strangers into his private life too.) Not because he doesn't like her - he does from what he's network stalked - but. Takeshi.
Smoke smoke.]
How can she help, then.
[gj netherlands don't specify who you're talking about - at least he catches it a second later.]
There are a few other mentalists if you don't want Cassandra, [William is muttering at the same time, but then he catches on to the gist of what Ned is really saying in his weird unspecific way. Of course. Who wouldn't want Cassandra.] She's a telepath, so she can read thoughts.
It sounds like you were experiencing some fairly specific but unusual thoughts while you were in your fugue state. That's what I'm going to call it, [William adds.] Honestly it ain't that unusual for people under stress to enter in those sorts of things, although I know you been around long enough that it should've shown up a few centuries ago if it was ever. All I'm saying is-- maybe we can learn more about what was happening to you. Internally, cognitively. With her help.
[So that time Netherlands didn't realize that Cassie - no, Cassandra - was a telepath. That. Makes everything else make a whole hell of a lot more sense.
His eyes go wide but only for a moment, and then he's all knit brows and absorbing every word William says like gospel.]
I'll talk to her.
[Which is apparently the end of the discussion because he's shifting to disconnect.]
waiting, he can do that. Whatever. He drops his hand and, well, waits. Even waits after William stops talking for a few moments, like he's expecting another comment to come forth. (He is.) When it doesn't happen there's a slow blink and nod.]
Yeah, [William nods.] You know. Don't fuck around and brush off your symptoms, pretend they ain't happening, try to tough it out. Something odd happens, tell someone. Tell Heather.
Try not to get distracted by her sucking voraciously on the side of your fucking neck. [William props his chin on his hands and smiles suddenly. Fondly.]
[Pretend they ain't happening is definitely a Heather thing to do, has him scrubbing at his mouth like it's an inside joke he's only sharing with himself. Which is exactly what it is. Still, he nods - he'll tell Heather or William or Cassandra or someone if not all of them -
all of which is abruptly derailed when he's reminded of his neck, and instead of looking embarrassed he just reaches two fingers up to touch, shoots William the most self-satisfied smug asshole look that ever did look. Yeah, Heather's pretty great, huh.]
[William laughs at that, not loud, but someone probably glances up in Medical Bay somewhere back there; he is delighted. Things are better now, he thinks. Just a little and slowly, but they are.]
Look who got in the cream. All right then. [William reaches for the comms.] Will you swing by or send electronic transmission once the data's in, or if you need me for coordination and that shit?
[The corner of his mouth only tips up even more at the laugh. It's good, yeah. And besides - Heather said once that she told William everything, so he's assuming William will hear about this sooner or later. Might as well cast his vote in.
He sobers up quickly enough - drops his hand and nods again.]
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And really, he's mostly not sure about talking to Cassandra. (A little bit annoyed with the thought of inviting strangers into his private life too.) Not because he doesn't like her - he does from what he's network stalked - but. Takeshi.
Smoke smoke.]
How can she help, then.
[gj netherlands don't specify who you're talking about - at least he catches it a second later.]
Cassandra.
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It sounds like you were experiencing some fairly specific but unusual thoughts while you were in your fugue state. That's what I'm going to call it, [William adds.] Honestly it ain't that unusual for people under stress to enter in those sorts of things, although I know you been around long enough that it should've shown up a few centuries ago if it was ever. All I'm saying is-- maybe we can learn more about what was happening to you. Internally, cognitively. With her help.
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His eyes go wide but only for a moment, and then he's all knit brows and absorbing every word William says like gospel.]
I'll talk to her.
[Which is apparently the end of the discussion because he's shifting to disconnect.]
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[William puts a hand out inadvertently, which is silly since he's spent his whole life in a digital age. Beyond digital.]
Uhh.
[A beat.]
Be careful. Let me know what you find?
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waiting, he can do that. Whatever. He drops his hand and, well, waits. Even waits after William stops talking for a few moments, like he's expecting another comment to come forth. (He is.) When it doesn't happen there's a slow blink and nod.]
Careful.
[That's. An odd request.]
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Try not to get distracted by her sucking voraciously on the side of your fucking neck. [William props his chin on his hands and smiles suddenly. Fondly.]
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all of which is abruptly derailed when he's reminded of his neck, and instead of looking embarrassed he just reaches two fingers up to touch, shoots William the most self-satisfied smug asshole look that ever did look. Yeah, Heather's pretty great, huh.]
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Look who got in the cream. All right then. [William reaches for the comms.] Will you swing by or send electronic transmission once the data's in, or if you need me for coordination and that shit?
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He sobers up quickly enough - drops his hand and nods again.]
Yeah.
[Aaaand cut, by one or the other.]