02/21 - Ageusia

[keephimtalking]

So I just randomly stop being able to taste things now again. Thought it was the weather at first, but... I just woke up this morning and went two hours not being able to taste a damn thing.

[ Breakfast was pretty fucking weird. ]

Gonna head over to the hospital to get it checked out in a bit, but I just... wanted to know if anyone else has been getting weird stuff like this? After our... after your accident?

Or, hell, I know most of you are humans, but if anyone's got a clue what it might be, I'd be happy to hear it.

Comments

[inventor]

( tone dry, ) Drink too much of that disgusting bile you call alcohol?

( good news everyone! the alcohol lantar makes and sells won't turn you blind! bad news everyone! it'll leave you with such a bad taste in your mouth that not even licking dirt will take it away!

if you never trust howard, at least trust him on this. he's got things growing on his tongue as proof. )

[ratkingcole]

Naw, but I never had any taste anyway.

[There's a joke there about their relationship, but she doesn't make it. With all the other memories that have been coming in, she feels... weird about the people she knows from Wayward Pines. ]

You okay?

[keephimtalking]

[ Despite himself, Lantar smiles quietly at the familiar voice and the familiar, coarse humor.

Things are weird. Spirits knows things are so fucking weird right now. But she's still one of the few familiar things here. ]

I don't know. I mean, I'm not dead yet, so there's that. I think being shot in the brain might be having some lasting effects though.

[keephimtalking]

Don't go projecting your weird problems on me, buddy.

[ He should name that drink combo the 'Howard Special' and give it out to cocky assholes. ]

[inventor]

You projected your weird problems on me, pal. And I drank 'em. And now I can't have soup without it dribbling from my mouth.

( he should rename the drink combo, "alas poor tastebuds! i knew thee well!" and give it out to the terminally ill or suicidal. )

[ratkingcole]

Yeah, well...

[ She trails off, thinking of something to say. ]

...serves you right for letting someone do that to you. You gotta be more careful, shithead, some people around here worry about you.

[keephimtalking]

Maybe you should be the one seeking medical help here.

Everything's certified human-friendly, so either you had some allergies you didn't know about or you're just giving me shit to try and get more free alcohol.

[inventor]

( shhhh lantar. don't give howard any ideas on how to score more free alcohol. ) All humans are allergic to disinfectant, pal.

[greyaria]

Is it taste only, or taste and smell?

[Trust her. She's a doctor. A space doctor.]

[keephimtalking]

Corstine, I'm getting it checked, [ he says quietly, trying to keep the fondness out of his subvocals.

'Some people'. Totally not her in that number, right? ]

I will. Nobody's gotta worry about anything.

[keephimtalking]

Taste only.

[ Isn't that the only type of doctors?

Oh, wait, right. This town had not-space doctors...]

[keephimtalking]

What- wh-

[ Lantar stops and takes a slow, deep breath, planting his forehead against the heel of his palm. ]

Alright, next time you come in, I'll give you something off the designated driver's menu, howabout? Alcohol free.

[greyaria]

If you're experiencing no other symptoms, I'd be inclined to attribute it to neurological sequelae from your brain injury.

[With humans anyway, but come on, this is Mass Effect, the most exotic it gets is a writer looking up amino acid chirality and then not quite understanding how it works.]

You should certainly go to the hospital and have your frontal lobe imaged, but the fact that the ageusia is transient and you're displaying no blatant cognitive deficits or psychological disturbances is encouraging!

[She's so perky.]

[ratkingcole]

[Definitely not her. Just other people, she knows from around town.]

I'm not sure I believe that, but okay.

[ There's definitely reason to worry, in her book. ]

[inventor]

( he gasps, audibly. his mouth drops in shock and his hand rests against his heaving chest. no joke. howard is acting like this is the greatest surprise and betrayal of his life. you wouldn't dare, lantar. there's a gruff defiance in his voice when he responds, ) Yeah, well. I'm gonna go build my own bar. With blackjack. And hookers! In fact, forget the bar.

( he'll make moonshine in his bathtub at home and it'll only be kind of gross tasting, not mostly gross tasting stuff like lantar's stuff. then he'll move on to toilet wine and become a regular al capone.

oh gods of history, is this how prohibition started? when an asshole made one too many insults towards a sarcastic yet not that bad bartender and refused to apologize? from howard's nonexistent memory of it, yes. )

[keephimtalking]

[ Lantar isn't quite educated enough to know what half of these things mean, but he's talked with enough similarly cheerful Salarian doctor types to differentiate between 'this is probably fatal if not immediately treated!' and 'fascinating! but probably not lethal.' ]

I... that's good, [ he offers, cautiously relieved ]. That's pretty good. I'm not sure the docs can image, uh, anything since they don't seem to have Turian-geared equipment. I think our shells are too... metallic...

[keephimtalking]

Hey, if anything kills me, it's the second hand smoke from your chain smoking habit.

[ There's definitely the vocal equivalent of tongue-sticking-out in his harmonics here. ]

[keephimtalking]

Oh, yeah. I can definitely see hookers wanting to work for you, instead of going freelance and not having to deal with your dumb face telling them humans are allergic to disinfectant.

Fuck you, mate.

[ The town has a population of five hundred and nada. Living expenses could be covered by a four day work week. If Howard actually manages to find one person who won't drop him in a week, Lantar'll eat his boot.

Also, buddy, that's incredibly unsanitary, please don't make wine in your toilet. ]

[greyaria]

[Oh my god her Mass Effect AU self is absolutely a Salarian.]

Oh! Well, I can work around that. Ask for me specifically, we'll get you scanned.

[Let her point her scanner which looks exactly like a gun at you, that can't possibly go badly.]

[keephimtalking]

[ Yes, Grey, point the gun-looking thing at the giant, pointy space bird man with no warning. That'll end well! ]

What named should I ask for?

[greyaria]

I'm Dr. Grey.

[You can recognize her by the slight manic air clinging to her at all times.]

[keephimtalking]

I'm Lantar Sidonis. If you need that info beforehand or something.

And thanks. I'll be seeing you there, then.

[ Hopefully. Fuck knows the local doctors and nurses don't actually seem to know what to really do with him. ]