#like how some (most) stuffies w electronic bits have

[catsharkzzz]

look at this lormp (the continuation)

[sickficsbypyroyoshi]

Pyro’s archived fics #1: Carl gets carsick

Hey guys, long time no post. I apologize for neglecting this blog. I’ve finally got not just a job but a career (electrician, and I’m really enjoying it), plus I’ve been working on a lot of other creative projects that aren’t related to sick fics at all. Financially I haven’t been doing so great, but now that I’ve got a better job, that’ll change. I still haven’t completed any new sick fics, as I just don’t have as much time as I used to.

So, I’ll try holding you over by posting a series of puke without plot stories I wrote in the past. Like my newer stories, their all OC centric, there won’t be any fan fiction. Here’s the first.

Carl bit his lip as his stomach clenched in anticipation. Not because he was sick, but because he was both extremely exited and a little nervous.

He was exited because tonight he was going to see Nile, his favorite band, live for the fourth time. Each time he saw them, the experience was better and more mind blowing. In his opinion, they were some of the most talented musicians in modern technical death metal, and few bands put as much effort into their work as they did. Tonight they would be playing a double set, which was guaranteed to be twice the epicness.

The nervousness came from the fact that he had been given the opportunity to meet and interview George Kollias, the drummer for Nile. He wasn’t a journalist, nor did he want to be, but this was a once in a lifetime chance that he couldn’t pass up. He just hoped he wouldn’t say something incredibly stupid during the interview or do something else to make an ass out of himself in front of his musical prodigy.

Apparently, his friend Danica knew Nile’s tour manager, and she had secured a pre show interview with George. She and Carl hadn’t seen each other in a few months, but they were close friends, like brother and sister almost, as he had been the first person she called.

Carl’s iphone buzzed, and he got a text from Danica saying that she would be at his house in approximately ten minutes. All he’d really need were his iphone and his wallet, and since he had both of those things, he made sure his outfit was appropriate. He wasn’t a very high maintenance guy, as he had thrown it on in about a minute. A Nile tour shirt from last year, black pants, and his work boots. He considered putting on a hat, but decided that would be stupid, because it would come off anyway.

Content with his look, he waited outside for Danica to show up. She had a tendency to always be a few minutes late, but there was more than enough time. It was a little past two in the afternoon, and the show didn’t start until eight.

It was at Station 4 in St. Paul, so it would be a long drive from his currently location of Fergus Falls. He had lived in St.Paul last year, but couldn’t keep his apartment since he was unable to find a decent job due to the crappy economy. Thus, he was currently living with his parents at age twenty three. Not that it was a bad thing, as he knew plenty of people older than him who still lived at home. He just didn’t like living so far from the cities.

He didn’t know what kind of car she would be driving, but he hoped that it had a good air conditioning system, as it was a hot day. It was very humid and had to be near ninety degrees, as he had only been outside for a few minutes, yet he already felt like he was sitting in an oven.

Sure enough, Danica was about five minutes late. At about two thirty, she pulled up in an old nineties Toyota and waved from the window.

Carl got up and excitedly bound towards the car.

“Hey you, it’s been to long. What’s going on?” Danica asked him eagerly when he got in. Before he could answer, she jumped at him from across the seats to give him a bear hug.

“Take it easy, it’s only been four months, you act like you haven’t seen me in years.” Carl smirked.

“It felt like years.” Danica pouted.

“Oh come on, you know I missed you too.” Carl squeezed her shoulder. He knew that she liked him as more than a friend, though he didn’t return those feelings. It’s not that Danica was an unattractive girl, she definitely wasn’t. In fact, she was fairly good looking. She was average bodied, with blue eyes and dark hair cropped into a 1920’s flapper girl style bobcut. Like Carl, she was clad in a Nile tour shirt, though hers was a little older. No, he simply didn’t return those feelings because he thought of her as a sister. Dating her would be too risky, as if they broke up, the friendship would suffer.

As Danica started the car, Carl looked around the interior. It was definitely dated, as it still had a working cigarette lighter in the control panel. It did have a modern touch in that the CD player had been ripped out in favor of an MP3 player and ipod dock.

“I’ve got to ask, what’s with the old car?”

“It was my cousin’s. She gave it to me after she got a brand new mini van. Why she got that thing, I’ll never know, as its a vehicular eyesore. Anyway, we have a long drive ahead of us. It’ll probably take about four hours to get there, so we’ll have plenty of time to get something to eat along the way.” she informed.

“Sounds good to me.” Carl said. However, as exited as he was, he didn’t really like spending many hours inside of a car. He had been prone to motion sickness as a kid, and one particular incident stuck out in his mind. When he was ten, he went with his parents and siblings on a road trip to Canada, and had gotten carsick on the way. Eventually, he had puked on his younger brother and sister, which in turn made both of them puke as well. He had stopped getting carsick around thirteen, so he knew he didn’t have anything to worry about. Pushing those thoughts out of his head, he hooked his ipod up to the dock.

“I think some preparation is in order.” he had every Nile album on his ipod, but was undecided as to which song to play.

“Oh! Play Unas, Slayer Of the Gods!” Danica suggested.

“Good idea. I was just thinking about playing that one.” Carl highlighted it on his ipod and turned the volume way up.

The two of them proceeded to thrash along to the music and snarl the vocals. Or tried, in Danica’s case. The sad truth is that women’s vocal chords just aren’t made to produce such sounds.

People in other cars stared at them like they had a disemboweled hooker in the backseat, but they didn’t care. After they had been driving for about forty five minutes, they decided to stop and get something to eat at a Noodles & Company.

Carl wasn’t terribly hungry, as he strangely still felt a bit full from lunch, which he had over two hours ago. This wasn’t normal for him, but he shrugged it off, as he wasn’t the type to turn down food.

He had the pesto cavatappi sans mushrooms, and Danica had the pad thai. They conversed about various things as they consumed their food, catching up with each other in the process.

They both decided to get refills on their drinks before they left. Since there was a considerable line in front of the touch screen soda machine, they had to wait a few minutes.

After they both got some more Coke, they were all set. Once they were on the road again, the music resumed, as did the casual bantering.

About half an hour later, they were on the freeway, but as luck would have it, a massive traffic jam had formed. Apparently, there had been an accident several miles up, and traffic had ground to a near halt, with cars bumper to bumper further than the eye could see.

Danica scowled at the vibrant orange electronic road sign, which displayed how long they should expect to wait. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s miles of this? That sucks.”

Carl didn’t pay very much attention to her ranting. He felt bloated and uncomfortably full, which was odd since he hadn’t even eaten all of his food. The seatbelt felt extremely tight, almost like it was firmly squeezing his torso, so he fidgeted with it in an effort to loosen it. His effort was in vain, as it snapped back in place, bringing more discomfort as it did so. Not only that, but the sweltering heat was beginning to get to him. Even though Danica’s window was all the way down, the car was incredibly stuffy, and he was beginning to feel a slight twinge of nausea.

“Can you turn on the AC?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not. Sorry, but this car is a hunk of crap. The AC is pretty much shot and the passenger window only rolls down halfway.” Danica said.

Figuring that was better than nothing, Carl rolled his window down as far as it would go. It did nothing to lessen the humidity, but it did let in even more exhaust since the traffic jam was still in full swing.

Normally exhaust didn’t bother him, but it wasn’t exactly making things better. The small twinge of nausea he felt increased slightly. Not by much, but just barely enough to cause him to notice. Another twenty minutes passed before the jam lightened, and they were on their way once more. Even though they were now cruising along at seventy five miles per hour with both windows down as far as they could go, Carl still felt hot, bloated, and a little sick. He wasn’t terribly concerned, as he was sure it would pass before too long. However, as the minutes went by, the unpleasant feelings remained the same. He wasn’t feeling much worse, but he wasn’t feeling better either.

Danica seemed to take notice of this, as she turned down the music and glanced over at him. “You’ve gotten quiet. Are you alright?” she asked.

“I don’t feel so good. It’s probably just the heat.” Carl said.

“Yeah, it is pretty stuffy in here. At least we’re halfway there.” Danica reassured. “Maybe some Rotting Christ will take your mind off it.” she stopped the song that was currently playing and put on Rotting Christ’s A Dead Poem album.

Carl sat back and tried to focus on the music. Usually hearing his favorite songs always helped when he had a cold or a respiratory flu, but it wasn’t helping much now. His confidence that the feeling would pass was beginning to wane, and he felt hotter than ever. He noticed that he was sweating, and his shoulder length hair was adhering to the sides of his face. Since his window only rolled down a few inches, he was denied any possibility of cool air.

“I think we need some ice cold water. That might help reduce the heat just a little.” Danica offered. “We can stop at the next town.”

“How far is it?”

“Uh, to be honest, I have no idea. Sorry.”

Not liking that information, Carl wordlessly looked out the window. He tried to distract himself from the growing pain and queasiness in his stomach by attempting to count how many cows were in each pasture they drove by. His thoughts drifted from the cows to the BBQ pulled pork sandwiches he’d had for lunch, and he could almost taste them. Usually he relished the thought, but at the moment the mere thought of food made him feel sicker.

All he saw outside was grass and cows, which kept reminding him of food. Every time he thought about it, he felt just slightly worse. This continued until he was experiencing full blown nausea. He shifted positions, facing the side and resting his head on the window, but it did nothing to help.

“Do you still feel sick?” Danica asked.

Carl nodded. “I feel considerably worse.”

“Just lay back and shut your eyes. Try to sleep. If you need me to pull over, tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over the car as Danica unhooked the ipod. Carl leaned back against the headrest and shut his eyes, attempting to fall asleep. He must have dozed off somehow, as sometime later he was awakened by Danica prodding him. It was then he noticed they were stopped at a gas station.

“You’ve been asleep for awhile.” Danica said, presenting him with a cold bottle of water.

As he became fully awake, the nausea came back full swing, and worse than ever. He was about to inform Danica of this, but she was already pulling out of the parking lot and speeding down the road.

Hoping the water might quell the sickly feeling, Carl opened the bottle and took a sip. So far, so good. A few small sips didn’t seem to hurt. He took a larger swig and regretted it immediately, as his stomach churned in protest. He grimaced, put the water in the cup holder and shut his eyes again. He hadn’t felt this bad in several years, as not only did he feel sick and a little dizzy, he could feel everything he ate earlier moving around inside of him.

All the excitement he had felt earlier had evaporated, and he was having second thoughts about this whole thing, especially the interview. He’d let Danica do it instead, because the last thing he wanted was to throw up in front of George Kollias. Or even worse, on him. Then what would happen? Would he get escorted out by security? Would he start a chain reaction? He didn’t want to find out, but the terrifying thoughts came anyway. He imagined himself puking on George, who would puke on Danica, who would puke on someone else, until every single person in the building either was or was on the verge of puking.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt a wave of really intense nausea wash over him, causing him to sit up with a start. As he did so, he saw that they had arrived in the cities, and were driving through uptown Minneapolis.

After a few seconds, it seemed to be subsiding. Figuring he’d make it after all, he deemed it safe to have a little more water. He’d only downed two gulps when it hit him again, even stronger this time.

Carl sat strait up, feeling the acid begin to crawl up his widening throat. “Danica, stop the car, I’m going to puke!” he said with urgency in his voice.

Danica’s eyes widened. “Oh shit! I can’t stop here, we’re in the middle of an intersection. Look for a bag or something.” she said.

As much as he wanted to, Carl felt too sick to move, and there was so much pressure in his belly that he knew he was only a few seconds from exploding. He felt the car jolt to a start again as Danica peeled out of the intersection to find a suitable place to pull over, but she wasn’t quick enough.

Carl clamped his hand over his mouth in a futile effort to hold it in, but he retched and  felt warm puke start to run through his fingers. The second retch was the one that did it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore and forcefully threw up all over the inside of the door, sending it splashing onto the window, dashboard, and himself.

The car screeched to a stop beneath an underpass, and he flung the door open and leaned out halfway. Before he could even yank the seatbelt off, Carl heaved again, producing a torrent of chunky brown liquid. It spread out over the pavement, forming a pool.

He realized that Danica was leaning over him, as he felt her gather his hair in one hand and hold it back out of his face, while she massaged his back with her free hand. He wanted to thank her for doing that, but was in no position to speak. His stomach contracted and he brought up two more voluminous waves, then he used the small gap between heaves to catch his breath before puking again. It still had lots of solids, as he could make out fragments of pulled pork, pesto cavatappi, and whatever else he had eaten. Since it hadn’t had time to digest fully, the taste wasn’t as sour or acidic as he expected it to be.

The heaving ceased for a couple seconds, but Carl still felt very sick. He didn’t move quite yet, as he figured he probably wasn’t done. His head was spinning, so he squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the rest to come up. About ten seconds later, his whole body convulsed and he continued puking. Another sizable wave came up, followed by two smaller ones and a dry heave. No more appeared to be forthcoming after that, so he spat out the lingering string, wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and slumped back into the car.

Danica caressed his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked, concern evident.

“I guess so, but I still feel sick.” Carl said. As he recuperated, he realized the extent of the damage.

There was puke all over the door, on the window, dripping into the cracks, and streaking down the dashboard. The car hadn’t been the only victim, as he had also gotten it all over his shirt and right hand.

Danica furrowed her brows as she took in the sight. “It looks like a murder scene in here. But don’t worry about it, just wipe off what you can, I can get it professionally cleaned tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” Carl inquired.

Danica nodded and fished around in the backseat until she found a travel pack of kleenexes. “You’ll have to use these.”

Carl took them and wiped off as much of the puke as he could, dropping the tainted tissues outside into the pool on the ground. When he was done with that, he climbed into the backseat and laid down for the remainder of the drive.

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Station 4 and were lucky enough to find a good parking spot. A long queue of people waiting in line stretched from the front doors down the block. Since they had RSVP tickets, they could bypass the line and go right in.

“How are you feeling? A little better?” Danica asked.

“Still shitty. This isn’t going to go well, I just know it.” Carl replied. Even so, he joined his friend outside, and the two of them walked towards the venue.

He started feeling uneasy again as they neared the door. In addition to still feeling queasy and knowing he’d probably be due for a repeat performance, all the nervousness he felt earlier came rushing back. Even though he was about to meet the man who inspired him to start playing the drums, his instinct told him it wasn’t going to end well.