Ensign Dawson Walking Bear (whiskeybravo) wrote in wheretheboldgo, @ 2011-02-13 14:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | dawson walking bear |
Who: Dawson W.B.
When: 2259.044 [02/13/2259] -- late beta shift
Where: U.S.S. Enterprise → Deck 4: Crew Quarters
What: The "morning" after the Psi2000 virus is not a pleasant one.
Rating: G
It was much later than W.B. generally got up when consciousness returned. There was a dull throbbing in his head, general achy feeling in his muscles and a kind of aura of shame he'd long since associated with the dreaded hangover. The annoying part was, of course, that he hadn't had anything to drink the day before. No, he'd been clean-- except for that weird infection that spread through the crew like wildfire and made them all act like idiots. Yeah. Too bad there wasn't a hangover hypo for that.
W.B. sat up and began stretching out his muscles a little. He wasn't afraid to let out a groan or two-- the nice thing about working gamma shift was that a lot of times he had at least one room in the four person suit to himself-- but was determined not to feel too sorry for himself. Yes, he'd been infected and crawled through Jeffries tubes to random parts of the 'ship most of the night but all he had to suffer for it was a few sore muscles. Scuttlebutt was that more than one crew member had embarrassed themselves far worse than that-- far, far worse in some cases.
And, anyway, he wasn't that much worse for the wear. Just a little bit. So W.B. resolved to use some of his water rations for a hot shower (to relieve some of the muscle tightness) and then try to scrounge up some decent food before gamma watch began. He might even be able to do it, too, if he could find a mess worker to take pity on him for sleeping through the dinner service. Yeah. So maybe today wouldn't be all that bad, after all...