Dictated

[modernholmes]

 [If anyone has happened to run into Conan over the last few days they might have noticed that he's been a little sluggish in his responses.    That his voice has been hoarse and that he seems to be sneezing a lot.  Not that anyone has had much chance to talk to him with all the running around he's been doing this week.

What is a cold compared to all the things there were to investigate here?  

Whatever this illness was, Conan had been determined to ignore it.  With the result that this wasn't just a cold anymore.  

It is the dizziness and coughing that at last force Conan to accept that he needs to rest.  He reaches out for the journal and dictates into it in a  hoarse and stuffed up voice.]

I think I'm a little sick.  If anyone needs me I'm going to be in my room.

Comments

[huffythedragon]

Okay, I'm gonna find you a doctor.

[modernholmes]

Really, that isn't necessary.

[huffythedragon]

You sound really sick, though.

[modernholmes]

[He sighs.]

If it makes you feel better, I just talked to a doctor. They're on their way.

[huffythedragon]

It does. If you're sick, you need to be looked at man, you could have anything.

[modernholmes]

You're worrying too much. [Conan tended to dismiss anything short of bullet wounds and broken bones as an annoyance.]

[huffythedragon]

I think when it comes to this place, I'm worrying just the right amount.

[Damnit, Conan, you listen to that doctor and get better]

[modernholmes]

Either way, you shouldn't come and visit until I'm recovered.

[huffythedragon]

Not planning to. Trust me, you do not want to see what happens when a fire breathing dragon sneezes.