Re: Newt's Case: Adrian M/Newt P/Patrick G
Patrick felt like the cross between a flu and immediate death, and he did not pick up on any weird vibes. Man, he had spent so long being concerned about this whole thing with his bro and Newt, and maybe this should have been the first thing to surface in his head, but blame the massive disorientation the dude was currently experiencing, because he did not feel anything strange. He laughed at Newt's threat to cook the compress, and then he immediately regretted the laughter; he moaned, and his head (he was certain) was about to explode. Outside, the trees were thrashing about as if a storm of ginormous proportions was brewing. "I am always cool," he assured his bro; this was not true.
He handed over the compress when it was requested of him; his eyes were now closed, which made the room spin somewhat, but which was better than the light. They were talking about suitcases, and Patrick did not interrupt immediately. "Man, there was a 20-foot snake that escaped from the ranger station. Mary thought I wanted to cut her heart out. The trees are dead. The woods and lake are dead. Some werewolf ate someone. This was a most insane series of events." He was not even aware of the most recent (and strange) god-inflicted madness. All in all, this was just some shit.
None of this was helpful, which he realized, and he did try to connect some dots (that were only visible to him at present). "Maybe something smaller than a suitcase." There. That made sense. He nodded once, as if his wisdom was the wisest wisdom in wisdom-ness.