Who: Gideon Ayers / Mr. Freeze
What: Memories Plot
Where: Gideon's suite at the Venetian.
Things to avoid: Nothing.
The words on the screen started to run together. This wasn't uncommon, but a stretch and a drink didn't fix it, which was. He had work to do, and meetings to arrange, and investors to assuage - and enemies to manipulate. Oddly enough, there was no pain to go with the haze, which ruled out a headache, so he figured he just needed to take a break. Six straight hours of work, and he was probably due for one.
Gideon never made it to the kitchen. His bodyguard caught him as he staggered, nearly falling, a moment's weakness that almost made him lash out in embarrassment. Everything was wavering - poison? Disease? For one horrific moment he wondered if he was having a heart attack, a stroke, something debilitating.
He sank into a chair and pressed his hand to his forehead and willed the unease away. Ice. He needed - a cold drink. That would do the trick.
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