PROTECTIVE | mouse & alex | {fever state: stage one}
---around 7 PM, January 3rd.
[He didn’t plan on invading Calyset---there wasn’t much time to plan anything, let alone that. When Olly had started showing symptoms around noon, Mouse had felt it from across the Col, dropped what he was doing, and switched into Leader Mode, setting: hardcore. And the minute they realized it was wide-spread, all of the Lost Boys had wanted to check on Faith. Who was doing okay, as it happened---Olly was definitely hardest hit, though Trig was pretty bad, too. They had met up in Calyset, in the Pup’s dorm, around (and on) her bed until Mouse had come back with supplies, and Faith had kicked up a fuss about disturbing her roommates. So they’d relocated to the Calyset Common Room. That was several hours ago, now. And mostly they’d been left in peace---a few people had checked in on them, but everyone had been understandably preoccupied and gotten the picture that Mouse was taking care of his four siblings just fine on his own, thanks.]
[It’s in a quieter moment, turning to nighttime---Skates on a sofa, one arm wrapped around a snoozing Pup, Trig rubbing his eyes and nodding off, and Olly fully out for the count on the floor, in a blanket cocoon with a bowl beside him if he wakes and needs it---that Mouse has finally sat down, and begun to feel a little like he could maybe try and sleep a bit. That’s precisely when two jumped-up security guards---or maybe even just volunteers, Mouse doesn’t know, or care what their real status is---have decided it’s time for the boys to “head on back” to their own Houses.]
[Which is not happening. They’re not splitting his family up on him---not when they’re like this. He’s always hated that they were put in different Houses, but right now he absolutely can’t handle the prospect of not knowing if they’re okay. And these people really need to realize they should leave well enough alone. So he’s back on his feet, letting the room spin ominously in his vision, and he’s beginning to lose the very last of his patience. He steps closer to one of the pair, who’s taken it upon herself to enforce some truly stupid rules, at a truly stupid moment, and practically growls his next words at her.]
Does it look like I give the ghost of a flyin’ fuck which bloody House you want us in? [He jerks his chin at the other stranger, who’s moving towards Olly, looking very much like he’s going to try and carry the sleeping boy bodily back to Delma.] Touch him and I break your fuckin’ hands, mate.
