RP: Demented Characters: Simon, Sir Didymus Time/Date: Nighttime, September 18 Location: The infirmary Warnings/Rating: None Summary: Simon contemplates "dementors" and tends a sick dog Status: Complete
Simon had read the updates in the network, and he'd tracked Lily down to ask questions -- after welcoming her back, of course. She'd assured him there shouldn't be any physical injuries caused by the dementors, though there'd be a great deal of depression. When he asked if drugs would work, anti-depressants and the like, she'd admitted that she didn't know, but it wouldn't hurt to have some on hand.
Like he had any choice in that matter. Simon idly fingered his Blackberry, wondering what would happen if he wrote a note to the people in charge to ask for those sorts of drugs. Would it be considered? Would they give it to him because he asked? Was that part of the point? He didn't know, and he wasn't sure what sort of effect asking would have. Most of the time it couldn't hurt to ask, but here ... he thought it might.
Setting the device back on the table, Simon sighed and crossed to the window. Parting the curtains, he gazed out at the view from where he stood. He could see the line, and the edge of the water, but he wouldn't be venturing there any time ... ever.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he thought he should go check on River, or talk to Kyle, or ... do something, but he was at a loss. He could go see Kaylee, but he occasionally needed a little quiet time. She was a wonderful woman, but she was also very high-energy, and sometimes ... well, sometimes he just came to the infirmary to hide. To think. Like he was doing now.