Event Log: Flu Season

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters
What: The event log for the Flu Season event
Where: All over the city
When: March 20th-March 30th
Warnings: Gross sneezing, sick people, and paranoia

It starts with a cough, a sneeze, a sore throat - something small and simple, easily ignored. But then your symptoms get worse. It's probably been awhile since you've been sick, that sort of thing doesn't usually happen here. You might be able to raid the shops for some tissues and tea before it gets too bad, and hopefully you've got a friend to help out until you get better. Surely it'll be over soon, right?

Until the fever sets in, and you start to understand why your friend is really there. They don't want to take care of you. They want to make sure this is the last anyone will ever see of you. They want to learn all your secrets. They want to steal your most precious possession. You know they're plotting against you, you know they're keeping something from you. What will you do to find out what it is?

Then, as the sickness fades, you realize it was all in your mind. Let's hope you didn't do or say anything too awful. But that friend of yours... they seem to have picked up your cough. Maybe you should help them out?

► This log covers March 20th-March 30th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If your paranoia ends in murder, please let us know here.

Comments

Rita Du Clark | closed to Drake

[unheeled]

[It turns out that waking up after being murdered (thanks, Caedra??? rude) has the same effect as being scratched: Rita comes out of it hungry. She heads to her apartment first, thinking she might have a portion prepped and in the fridge (turns out having a zombie roommate for a while teaches you a thing or two about making brains something close to savory, ugh), and-- well, she does, but it's only about enough for an appetizer. It takes the edge off, anyway, so she's confident that she'll remain herself for the entirety of the trip to Hope's temple and back for another brain.

What anger she feels on her way there is about normal -- anger at being a zombie, anger at her dad for all but throwing her at a Romero, anger at Major for not doing what he was told and potentially stopping this problem, anger at Liv for that punch she is so not forgetting. And, thanks to this shithole, she's angry about having died, and at having been brought back undead. What kind of shit deal is this, anyway? They could at least bring her back human, but no, she's as white-haired as ever. Thanks for nothing, assholes.

Hope provides, though, and she's gotta admit it's nice not having visions or personality changes every day. Rita isn't the cutesy positive thinking type, but that is something she appreciates.

She takes her meal of the week, discretely packed and everything, and turns in time to see Drake walk in. The goody-goody who set her up with a strady supply of brains and the basics of zombie virus rules on contact with non-zombies. She doesn't believe she owes him -- she wouldn't have gotten far in life if she were like that -- but in this creepy place full of strangers, he's her only real ally.

So she flashes him a small, quick smile.]

Fancy seeing you here.

[Or, you kno. "Hi, nice to see you."]

[braveoff]

[ Drake lets the temple door swing shut behind him as he comes in and looks her over -- she seems fine? He hasn't seen her since they met up to talk to Love, and she never answered his message from a few days ago checking in. Honestly, he'd been a little worried. Apparently that wasn't necessary. ]

Hey, Rita. It's good to see you -- I texted you the other day, did you miss that?

[ It's okay if she saw it and decided not to reply, they don't actually have to be besties just because they're both zombies. But yeah, it's clear he was worried. He moves forward to grab his own politely discreet brain box, but doesn't make to leave yet. ]

You've been okay?

Swift har Parasiel | Closed + Open

[swiftlet]

Closed to Seel

Swift had survived, at least, as terrified as he'd been at first. He'd never been sick before, what was he supposed to think? Even assured that he wasn't dying, he was always just a little bit concerned. He just made sure not to say that out loud where Seel could hear it. They did not need another argument and Swift couldn't handle it with the aches he was dealing with. It was damn miserable. How the humans had ever managed to accomplish anything if they had to deal with this sort of thing was a mystery.

Now that he could breathe again and wasn't burning alive, he took a moment to breathe--or would have except that something was keeping him on edge. He couldn't say what it was, but whatever was setting him off, he needed to get away. Was Seel planning something? He must have been planning something. He was always planning something.

Was there even a way out? Seel had to be out there, watching. Probably waiting for Swift to make a move, do something he didn't like. That's what he did, wasn't it? Maybe he could find out.

"Seel?"


Open: around

[He couldn't stay in the house. He didn't quite know what he was afraid of, but he couldn't stay there. He was restless and irritated and something was going to happen he just knew it.

Unfortunately, after he'd made his escape while Seel wasn't looking, the feeling wasn't dissipating. Even being outside and not surrounded by walls wasn't helping. Maybe if he got out of the city and there weren't so many buildings to feel caged by...

Somewhere he knew he wasn't thinking clearly, but the paranoia was drowning it out. He had to...well, he didn't know what. But he had to do something.]

[dreamsallotted]

Seel was always planning something. At the moment, he was trying to come up with an excuse as to why he couldn't train with Maglor tomorrow morning. Clearly he couldn't use Swift's illness as an excuse, as he was no longer ill. He sighed. He was just going to have to get beat up. Hearing his name, Seel looked over from the couch he'd been lounging on, and put down the half written report the Door had felt necessary to send him.

"Yeah?" Seel twisted around and offered an outstretched hand to Swift. "Can I get you anything? How are you feeling?" Since Swift had never gotten sick before, well, Seel was a little worried he might relapse or something.

Trafalgar Law - OPEN

[hot_mes]

[Doctors are the worst patients, and Law is no exception. It doesn't help that he hasn't been sick since he cured himself of terminal illness; thirteen years is a long time, it's easy to forget what it feels like. But staying away from the clinic isn't an option when it becomes an outbreak and all hands are needed to treat the sick. He's the smart one with a mask on at all times, but chances are good others will catch it from him.

After he makes his usual medical lecture on the network, that's when all hell breaks loose.]

A - the Clinic, Mar 20-24

[Come whine at him and ask for help. He's seen enough people to know he can't combat what isn't there, all he can do is triage symptoms and ease pain. He's got the best painkillers and fever-relievers! But as the days pass, he also gets worse, until one day he collapses from neglecting his own fever.]

B - Thief of Hearts, Mar 25-26

[The illness itself seems to be fading quickly, Law is back on his feet, but that's not good for anyone. His mind can see nothing but enemies everywhere, even in the faces of friends. Anyone who approaches him is going to lose a valuable organ, unless they can talk him down first.]

((ooc: additional information here))

C - Wildcard

[did you see him taking a heart and want to confront him? Need to get your heart back? Still paranoid and want to take it out on the guy with the sword who thinks [Name] should live? Law is recovering as of the 27th, but beware. On the 29th he's going to meet a nasty Visitor so make sure to get everything else taken care of prior to that misfortune. He's not going to be much good to anyone after that.]

Clinic

[abyssalarcana]

[Second day of this illness, now, and Caedra has just about had it. She's convinced this must be a curse from the gods, or someone, because she should not be sick. Period. Does not happen. And yet here she is, clammy and pale and coughing.

This is a place she would normally never think of going, and yet here she is, grinding her teeth, barely able to contain her rage at these beings who dare call themselves gods - and anyone else, for that matter.]

You there - this is some sort of place of medicine, isn't it? Are you a healer?

Caedra Nisariel | closed to Hayden

[abyssalarcana]

The illness creeps up on Caedra slowly, catching her entirely off-guard. First the tickle in her throat, then the sniffles and watery eyes.

It has been so long since she was sick she had forgotten what it felt like. Had assumed something in the atmosphere changed, maybe, or perhaps this was some odd side effect of being separated so long from her Abyssal home. Maybe worse, maybe, cut off like this, her body is decaying, or maybe the gods here are harsher than she had realized and were setting about killing her slowly, letting her suffer gently so that she can look back on this with fondness before the real torture sets in.

"Ah-choo!"

Nope, just a cold. That shouldn't happen, but she shouldn't be stuck here in the first place.

Miserable already, she heads out of the strange home she has claimed as hers, passing through the weave of illusory vines, and heads toward the stores, hoping to find something for her throat. If not there, perhaps the bar-

Searching through the lowest shelf of the shop, as she approaches the doorway, is a tiny child. Which would be unremarkable, normally, though she's noticed there aren't many children here younger than mid-teens that she has noticed. But this child has horns, barely visible through his red hair. And a tail.

A tiefling? Or...

"Hello?"

[demonsional]

Hayden yelps when a voice sounds from the door to the shop. Usually, he would've reacted with a loud and exuberant greeting of his own, but, well, his head kind of hurts. He feels like he's full of cotton. He just wants to eat an entire bag of cough drops all on his own and then sleep for about a week. So he looks around awkwardly, nervously, not really meeting Caedra's face properly as he holds his findings close and skitters close to the end of the shelving unit, intending to hide halfway behind the edge.

His tongue feels thick and clumsy and dry in his mouth but he coughs and works around it.

"H...Hello! Who are you, please?"

Celebrimbor | Closed to Elf House + Open

[handofsilver]

ELF HOUSE

(Reclusive by nature - a state forged by the hands of his most hated foe - Celebrimbor locks himself in his bedroom when the symptoms start. He does what he can to keep himself hydrated and fed, but as the illness progresses, he is soon a feverish, delusional mess. The bright, hot spots of red on his cheeks are the only color to his features and he is forced to leave his room in search of aid.

Any aid. He will gladly take a fist to the head if it knocks him out for awhile.)

Is someone there? Anyone? (Fear grips his heart. He is alone. Of course he is alone and this isn't a home at all. He's still with Sauron and this is a trick!) Don't do this to me. Not again -

(Celebrimbor collapses by the stairs, silver eyes dull. What use is there in fighting? This is a game of cat and mouse for a Maia.)

OPEN

(He flees from the house at a run, pushing his already taxed body until he has no choice but to hold himself up against a tree. Gasping for air, feeling too hot - no too cold - he shivers and silently pleads for the gods to be merciful. Can Eru hear him? What of the deities of Hadriel?

No, Hadriel doesn't exist. He must be in Angband or -

Some other foul, loathsome spit of charred, ruined land! What he needs is a sword and the strength to use it, yet, sadly, he is already sinking to the ground, his vision going grey.)

[bythewaves]

Telpe?

[ Sickness is foreign to elves, but Maglor raised peredhel. He comes running when he hears - he's well himself - for the moment, but he wouldn't put it past the Gods to spread whatever this is widely ]

Telpe, Telpe, you're burning!

[ He frets ] Come back to your room, and I will get you some water.

Asriel Dreemurr | ota

[pleasereset]

[He's been gradually getting sick for a while, with a high fever and barely any energy to get out of bed. He's so exhausted, but as his sickness gets worse, he feels an increasing sense of dread. Every time he wakes up from a restless sleep, he feels leaves and flower petals growing across him. No matter how much he claws at himself and finds nothing, he knows that it's happening. He knows he's turning back into a flower.

So with what energy he has left, he leaves his room and heads outside. It's a long, tiring walk and he looks like he's about to pass out... but eventually, he finds a soft patch of dirt.

And using his claws, he starts digging a hole.

After all, he needed somewhere to "plant" himself, didn't he?]

[prophesiedone]

[Anakin is dealing with the effects better than most - probably because he is naturally a paranoid mess - so when he sees the little guy digging, he hurries over to him.]

Hey, what are you doing? You don't look so good.

Alfred Aethelwulfing

[devilsandangels]

( Closed to Hvitserk )

Alfred has a history of being a sickly child. At some point he had felt that he had grown out of it, he'd certainly started to get sick less as he got older and it had been sometime since the last time he had fallen ill. It had started innocently enough, he had felt tired and a bit stuffy and then it had progressed to a cough that had progressively gotten worse.

Then, he finds himself one morning he's feeling achy and doesn't manage to get out of bed. He's usually the one that puts together breakfast so perhaps luckily, his absence would be missed. He feels awful and there might just be the start of a fever and so, of course, he's huddling under his covers.

( Wildcard - OTA )

[ Open to some other scenes. On hiatus and slow, though. Feel free to hit me with your best shot or hit me up via PM or on plurk at poetanarchy if you want to plot something or want a specific starter. ]

wildcard - once it has progressed a bit

[crippled]

Perhaps shockingly, Ivar did learn how to cook at some point (on the hunting trips their mother made his brothers allow him to accompany them on, probably.) Simple stews, at least. He even, after a few weeks now, has figured out some of the kitchen appliances and because he has very grudgingly had to admit he'd rather not let his brother and his brother's soft little Christian king die when it wouldn't serve his purposes in any way, he uses that knowledge to make them food when they're both too useless and sickly to pick themselves up out of bed.

However, it turns out that the truly arduous part of the whole process is his crippled ass trying to carry bowls full of piping hot soup (mostly broth, because they probably won't keep much else down) between the kitchen and their bedrooms. It involves a lot of starting and stopping and cursing very loudly just outside of Alfred's door, which he slams unceremoniously open after having delivered Hvitserk's meal to him in an equally vicious manner.

He drags himself and the bowl across the floor, and sets it on the bedside table, missing a solid third of its contents by now. "Get up, sit up," he snaps testily, fingers and dignity feeling equally burned. "Eat this."

Maedhros || Elf-House + Open to Visitors

[castintofire]

Maedhros didn't regret caring for his nephew. Never. Even when he started to fall ill himself. He kept working as long as he could until even his strength started to fail him, and his mind started telling him there were people there that shouldn't be.

But eventually he couldn't deny it and went to his room, seeking sleep in the hopes of staving off the worst of memories and images that he knew would just do more harm.

"Let me sleep, Tyelko," he grumbled at the image of a brother who shouldn't be there, but was poking at him nonetheless, pulling the blanket over his head.

[bythewaves]

A low sob comes from the room next door.

"Please...I tried, I tried!"

Maglor | Elfhouse, OTA

[bythewaves]

Elfhouse

It starts with a sniffle, one he dismisses - his family needs him. But slowly, slowly, things worsen.

He sakes his head to clear the dizziness from it. He can't be ill. They'll leave him, if he's not well. They'll all leave him.

Fool Caranthir's ghost says almost fondly. They were always going to leave. You're a failure, Makalaure.

"No!" He stumbles down the stairs. "I tried, please no."

Wildcard

Hit me

[handofsilver]

He is on the mend and far more useful in soothing mental demons. Maglor will find himself caught when he stumbles, strong arms keeping him from harming himself further.

"Uncle, it's alright. They're not real; they're not here."

serah farron / closed

[odinbolt]

( ooc/ prompts below! )

delmar/

[odinbolt]

( She feels a cough start one morning, just after leaving the study building, building up at the back of her throat until she can't help but splutter into her hand. Feels the sudden movement in her temples, an unpleasant twinge, and frowns. That... can't be good. But it's only a couple of symptoms, something she can treat with the right drinks and taking it easy. She'll just have to go to the shops and see what she can find, then bundle up at home until this goes away.

It's a good enough plan. Unfortunately, Cure works on injuries, not the impending sniffles, otherwise this would be much easier. So, she makes her way towards the shops, carefully shifting the cloth she drapes around herself as protection from the harsh sunlight so it can easily cover her mouth in case she starts coughing again.

Which she does, and the twinge in her temples gets worse, making Serah cringe as the sun bounces off the stained glass windows of a storefront. )

...Ow.

( She presses herself against the door of the store, hand shading her eyes from the sun and tries to push away the oncoming headache with her fingers. )

[closed to rhy]

[solase]

Alucard is used to getting himself in all sorts of trouble, but it's been a good few years since he's truly fallen ill. As such, what begins with a soreness in his throat he dismisses easily enough. Perhaps there is something in the air? He thinks nothing more of it than that. And the aches that seem to accompany it? Perhaps there is a change in the weather coming, nothing more.

By mid-day, however, there is a tickle that settles right into the back of his throat. It's there every time he breathes, every time he speaks. Every swallow of food seems to scratch and irritate it more and he should probably be drinking something other than wine from the way it seems to burn all the way down. Forcing himself to face the fact that this illness (for that is what it is) is only going to get worse before it gets better, he shuffles back down the road to where he and Rhy live now, tiredly making his way up the staircase to the third floor and in their front door to pour himself into a chair at the kitchen table.

[anoshe]

Rhy looks up as Alucard enters. He's still getting used to the idea of living with someone in such close quarters - living with Alucard, specifically. Having him so near all the time is distracting at best, though he would have to admit he prefers it to the alternative of not having Alucard there at all.

He frowns just a bit. Alucard looks tired, perhaps even unwell. Rhy isn't the best at judging these things, but he flatters himself that he knows Alucard well enough to tell.

"Are you all right?"

He walks over, concerned.

taako | ota!

[pocketspa]

i. [march 22nd-25th] i've been running so long these shadows start to feel like home, oh i know it's backwards

[He manages to spend the first few days away from it all. Despite being an absolute annoyance, due to his cooking habits, he's incredibly hygienic- under normal circumstances, he's the one who avoids getting sick out of the group of chucklefucks he's with. But this time, he's not so lucky. After the first two days of watching people drop like flies, he picks up a cough, and then a runny nose, and then the body fatigue- making him grumpy much before he's paranoid.

It's around this time he drags himself out of bed, since his house is woefully missing his sister, and out to the shops. Another bad thing about Lup being gone and him feeling like shit is there's no one who can cook without lighting themselves on fire. For those used to seeing him, he looks much more disheveled than usual- his braid is messy, having slept on it for a day or two, and his usual cloak is pulled around him like a blanket as he hobbles along in the shops, using the Umbra Staff as a walking stick.

He's fine. He's doing fine. He might look at you like you're a loon for trying to help him, but he's always like that. A little bit of paranoia is healthy, right?]

ii. [march 26th-29th] now even when I'm alone, i feel like somebody's watching

[A little bit of paranoia is decidedly not healthy.

The problem with this event is that Taako has a hard time trusting anyone. His default state- even for people he likes, even for some people he loves- is wondering what their true intentions are, when they're going to turn on him. And considering the one person he might trust enough to break through this is conveniently missing, he's having a fucking experience. The first day, he's stuck in his house, door decidedly locked, but as soon as the sickness passes he's out of the house and doesn't come back, phone left in his room. People looking for him- or unlucky enough to find him- will come across Taako in dark corners, unclaimed rooms, and eventually trying to find somewhere in the Coliseum where he can't be tracked. But if you find him- unintentionally or not- he'll brandish the Umbra Staff forward, directly at your chest.]

Don't come any fuckin' closer.

ii;

[barold]

Taako, what're you--

[After finding a better living situation with Atem and getting back in touch with Lup, Barry has been in a much better mood. He's been sleeping, eating, trying to take care of himself. Even sending the occasional text to Lup out on her expedition, letting her know he's thinking of her and committed to fixing what he broke. It feels nice. Not that he's been very social - Atem warned him about an illness going around, people getting sick, and the last thing Barry wanted on top of everything else was a sore throat and a runny nose. No thank you, ma'am.

So he's been keeping to the apartment, trying to clean it up and make it feel more like a home - for the time being, at least. But now that things seem to have calmed down and people aren't sneezing up a storm anymore, Barry feels safe heading outside for a stroll and some sunlight. The apartments and shops aren't too far from the Coliseum, so Taako is easy to spot, skulking around, looking like he's searching for something. Barry hadn't even thought twice about going up to help him out.

Apparently, approaching him was a bad idea. Because now he's got the business end of the Umbra Staff almost poking into his chest, with a disheveled and wild-looking Taako on the other end. He looks pale. Angry. Almost frightened. Is he imagining that..?]

Wh-What's gotten into you, bud? You okay? I-It's just me, Taako.

Washington | open and closed

[hardwearing]

at the beginning; this was a mistake | ota

When he first started sneezing, Wash honestly wasn't sure what to make of it. Dust? He'd never had a problem with it before. Then the tickle in his throat turned into an actual cough, and grew sore and painful. It got hard to breathe through his nose, and he had to admit to himself that the heat radiating from his skin wasn't just from being out in the sun, he had a fever. He was sick.

He hasn't been sick since he was a kid. Since before he was a solider, excepting a few episodes of stomach issues here and there that hadn't really slowed him down. So this whole flu thing is unacceptable, and he's not going to let it win.

As if an illness is something he can fight with willpower, he stubbornly refuses to ease up on his training regimen. He's decided to go without armor for awhile until they can shield their implants, which means when he goes out for a run he also doesn't have his vitals conveniently displayed on his HUD. Doesn't realize just how far he's pushed it until he's collapsing, hacking up gunk and feeling like he's being burned alive between the suns and his fever. He stumbles into the shade of a nearby building, sinks weak and dizzy to the ground. That's where anyone walking by can find him, sitting leaning against the wall and hoping his strength will come back so he can get home.

fever spikes; paranoia sets in | closed to close cr

Being sick is horrible, and Wash doesn't deal with it particularly well. Once he's admitted defeat he really only leaves his bed to go to the bathroom, feeling increasingly shittier as the fever rises despite all this maddening rest. Something else is wrong, though. He's always sort of paranoid already, worrying about everything that could possibly become a problem, but now he literally can't think about anything else. His mind jumps from one disaster scenario to the next, most of them wild and unreasonable but too real to shake.

Ephemera has been faking good intentions and now he knows they all live together, he's going to rig the house. Kyna has been filing away his every negative quality, every screw up, and this shitty attitude about being sick is the last straw. When she comes in with a glass of juice he's certain she's going to declare her hatred. Name is summoning the Null as this very moment, and will hack them all. No, they're here already. Everyone who's offered them help is secretly working for the Null, and they can't trust anyone. By letting people have access to his implant they've even found a way for the Null to fully control them this time. Get in their heads properly, impersonate them convincingly. His team is compromised. These aren't his friends anymore. He has to handle this himself before it's too late.

Luckily he's too sick to do anything about any of these thoughts. But soon...

towards the end; taking on a new mission | ota

...soon enough the fever breaks. And he's feeling dramatically better. Well enough, in fact, to don his armor and weapons, against his previous assessment that it wasn't safe. Because now it's necessary. Now, he has a job to do. He has to hunt down Name and interrogate it, then destroy it so thoroughly no one here will ever be able to put it back together. He has to save the city. He has to get his friends back. The Null are here already and no one else knows it. Maybe they're out in the desert, lying in wait. Should he search first? No, Name will tell him. He'll make it tell him.

Wash can be found systematically searching every building in the city, perhaps even barging his way into your home. And his explanation sounds insane, but arguing with him might only convince him you're the enemy, too. Somebody needs to talk some sense into him before it's too late and he does something he'll regret.

the beginning :')

[evocation]

Wash might be too stubborn to consider himself sick, but Kyna knows what's up, and every time he denies anything being wrong, she can't help but give him the side eye. Apparently space marines don't get sick. Who knew? She figured it would be safe, despite his unending stubbornness, to leave him alone for a bit. Just long enough to get some food for him. Apparently, she guessed wrong.

She spots him collapsed against a wall, and her heart stops as she rushes over. He's okay, though, she thinks. When she gets closer she realizes he's conscious, but that doesn't stop her voice from sounding a bit panicked as she kneels beside him. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Kain | OTA

[dragonsgrasp]

1. Sickness (22nd-25th)

[Kain is trying to do his regular patrols around the city… trying, being the operative word here. He ends up stopping on multiple occasions as a violent sneezing fit overtakes him. This happens… and keeps happening… repeatedly. Soon enough, the aches and pains settle in as well. He knows he’s starting to feel sick, but is that going to keep a Highwind down? Never! In fact, the worse he feels, the more he’s stubbornly pushing himself to get out there.]

[He might need to be forced to the clinic or to bed… but do you dare go near this contagious dragoon?]

2. Heartless (around the 25th)

[After an unfortunate encounter with Law, Kain is… sort of… minus one body part. His heart, to be precise. He’d passed out, certain he was dying, but now… Now he seems to be right as rain. He feels like himself, in fact, aside from this damned fever that he can’t seem to shake. Everything else seems in order, his skin is warm and alive-looking as ever, his mind is functioning properly, he even appears to have a pulse. So hooray, he’s not a zombie! Good, all is good, so Kain starts to walk around...]

[Except there’s a gaping square hole in his chest, right in the area where his heart used to be. That may… look just a little bit creepy.]

3. Paranoia (after the 26th)

[He’s been through a lot these past couple of days, though having his heart stolen definitely tops that list. At least the aches and pains and general illness feelings have subsided. But the paranoia they’re replaced with is much, much worse.]

[Kain is sticking to the rooftops to keep away from people… all the rooftops. Anyone might catch him landing on the roof of a temple as they enter, their home as they’re heading in for the day, or… basically any other building while going about their routines. He stands there surveilling the ground below, lance in hand as he’s poised to deal with any trouble that might be headed his way. In fact, that person down there… what are they plotting? Something about it all seems suspect to Kain, who calls down toward them.]

You! You there! What do you think you’re doing?!

26

[paragonbrosca]

[Aren is returning home, running herself ragged after patrolling again and again and again. Something isn't right, she knows it, and Grey Warden instincts are usually worth listening to. Nevermind that she's been sick herself lately. Looking up, she narrows her eyes at Kain.]

Trying to defend this place, like anyone sane. You know there's going to be another Null attack, right? Or darkspawn will come or...something. It's always something.

[Barkspawn whines at the both of them, not approving of any of this.]

Rosen | Closed to Kate

[drabsolutelynot]

[It has started with an annoying thudding in his temples, one that spread to an ache in his sinuses, then bit by bit sparked an angry burn in his throat an a relentless wheeze in his chest. At the start he'd have to take moments to steady himself, leaning against cupboards, then slowly starting to try and cool his forehead against any cold bit of the wall he could find.

A couple days in it had turned to Rosen sitting in his chair, fixing the whole of the clinic dead-eyed stare and a normally tanned face gone paper white and pasty with damp at the roots of his flyway silver hair.

He looks anything but happy.]

[dedikated]

( Fun facts: Superhumans find it harder to get ill, to get injured. As a consequence of this, it's all the more painful and long-lasting when it hits. So, naturally, the second Kate sees people sneezing and coughing, getting red eyed and nosed, she begins to do what she can to keep herself safe.

That means a lot of cleaning. More than usual, making sure every surface is spotless after being touched. It means cloths wrapped around her face to stop people coughing their germs in her direction.

It also means a glare levelled directly at Rosen when she finds him sat in the chair, looking like death has been preparing him for a nice dinner. )

Why're you here?

( And not at home. )

Whistler | Closed to George

[whistlewhilstyouwork]

[To his knowledge he hasn't been sick since...well...there was that time where Mother had thought it'd be funny to use water guns inside....which in all honesty it was....but the bit about freezing with cold afterwards and waking up with a rabid cold for the next 4 or 5 days was less fun.

But he's fairly certain that was the last time he'd felt nearly this bad.

This one is worse though.

He's got it all: the overheating, the nausea, the stuffed nose, but the worst of it? The worst is the dizziness and the aching. The two reasons why currently he is sitting off to the side of one of the main roads, cane laying at his side, and forehead dropped heavily against the tops of his knees.

Someone please make it stop.]

[toiletseat_girl]

[she's on her way to the Clinic, despite feeling sick, too, and hating every second of it. she thought that Reapers didn't get sick? but isn't it about time for the gods' fuck-with-them fun? so that's probably the cause of the illness and this weird, niggling feeling in her head that something's wrong. she can't place what it is, though, which is adding to her frustration.

she sees the man zonked out on the side of the road. he looks like he's feeling even worse than she is. there was a time when she'd have kept on walking, but not now. not when they're all in this crazy, fucked up mess together]

Hey. You need a hand up? I'm already on my way to the Clinic, we can take you there, get you something to eat and drink.

Michael Munroe | Closed | CW: probable violence, possible death

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael is pretty sure he's losing his goddamn mind. He thinks that a lot, actually, but this time it's not because something impossible is happening. This time it's because things are somehow too possible. The ideas in his head make complete sense. And that's far more terrifying, if he's honest.

Usually he can fight the dangerous impulses in his brain, at least for a while. If he thinks something irrational, he can usually tell, can usually talk himself down, eventually. But now he can't convince himself that he's wrong, he can't find evidence to contradict it. He's so sure that Harlan got him sick on purpose. He's so sure that this plague was planned. He's absolutely positive that if he goes outside, someone is going to hurt him. That they're probably outside his door right now, listening to him cough, deciding how best to get inside, how to drag him away or kill him. And why shouldn't they? He's a murderer. And they all know it. They have to.

For the first few days after the fever sets in, Michael barricades his apartment, locks his phone in the spare bedroom, and hunkers down to wait them out, sitting flat against the wall. He doesn't know how much time passes, but most of it he spends staring at the door, knife in hand, his own senses on high alert- but not just his. The Visitor believes him, apparently, or maybe it's just more proof of the truth. They watch together. They wait together. And nothing happens... until eventually Michael realizes he can't last like this. He's still sick, and he's running out of food. He has to go out. That was probably their plan.

It takes him a day to convince himself, and when he finally does unblock the door and very cautiously step outside, he doesn't do it alone. The Visitor's awareness moves through his limbs like adrenaline, (with adrenaline, probably,) directing his attention, his movements. Its entire existence is violence and threat, so it seems only logical, in that too-sure, frightening way, that it would know best.

Michael leaves his apartment building with his hood up and a knife gripped under his sleeve. Anyone who approaches him can only be doing so for one purpose, and he's not going to make it easy for them.]

let's do dis

[hot_mes]

[By now Law is on the mend, he's just returned the hearts he removed and is finally getting somewhat clear-headed. At least, he's no longer raving about the mysterious source of the outbreak and not viewing everyone he passes as a threat. In fact, he's not even carrying Kikoku with him, in some sort of foolish attempt at appearing non-threatening.

On his way back to the clinic, he spots someone heading more or less in his direction and wonders. Is that who he thinks it is? Are they trying to meet him at the clinic or is this just chance? Either way, if he can get close enough to make some observations, he'll know whether they need treatment or for him to just back off and leave it.]

akira kurusu | multi-prompt! (ota)

[jocoeur]

(( catch-all for multiple days over the course of the event. items in bold are what you can find akira doing on the days mentioned, or if there's anything else you'd be interested in doing with him just drop me a line! ))

03/23-03/25

[jocoeur]

( at first, akira had just tried to shrug it off. a sniffle here, a cough there, it was nothing... right? but as the body aches began to settle in deeper into his muscles, seemingly down to the bone... he was becoming more bedridden by the day.

his fever seemed to be getting worse, at least from what he could tell. with increasing volume, throug his closed door a— ) Ah... ahhh! AH-CHOO ( resounds off the walls. )

Party Poison | OTA

[killthisparty]

💊23rd - Please wash your hands

God-fucking-damn it. Damn it!

Illnesses, even things as simple as a cold, always went over as good as you could expect in a community of desert-dwelling rebels with limited food, drink, and medicine, along with a bunch of less than healthy habits. Sometimes it was easy enough to deal it, other times it could spell danger - one less pair of eyes, a downed pair of legs, one less gun held up against the Dracs. Then there were the times it just meant someone might end up a ghost.

Maybe that's a little over dramatic, here, but all things considered, this isn't ideal. In fact, this fucking sucks.

In just 24 hours, Party, already usually sporting a tired and grumpy demeanor, gets hit with sneezes and sniffles, and a nasty old cough. The quality of his health is already debatable on a good day, but it seems like something caught up with him...


At home, in the stores, wandering around the street, he might often be noticed thanks to, honestly, his gross-ass cough.

And, if you own a shop or are simply visiting? Yes, he definitely is touching things. You're welcome.

----

💊25th - Pink Panther up in this b

(Insert skulking music here.)

Fuck this. Fuck this whole place. Fuck this, fuck you, fuck them. He can see through all of this bullshit and this isn't even real.

Leaving the house was easy enough. Good thing his room - that room, fuck you, that's not his room - is on the ground floor. They didn't even hear him. Nobody's gonna know he's missing for at least...15 minutes? Half an hour, a full hour if he's lucky.

Pale, sweaty and wide eyed, bright yellow gun in hand, this small slight young man is sneaking through the city. Keeping hidden, peeking through corners. He needs to find the way out. He needs to find who's in charge, she-- she's watching. She has to be watching from somewhere. This isn't a mask - he tried, he really did - so maybe--

God, fuck, what if he's not even awake? What if it's all in his head? Can they do that?

This is a sick game. He should have expected it, is it-- is this where souls go? Is this where your brain takes off to, when you're bleached?



Who wants to take a chance? Mind the gun. His aim isn't great, but he's willing to try.

----

❌26th - Home [CLOSED to Killjoy cast]

That was...what the fuck was that?

Oh. Oh god. What?

He jumps out of bed, still for a moment and looking around at the dark. Where--door, yes, that's a thing.

Don't mind if he slams his door open. Or, should it be locked, slams against it as he scrambles to open it, then yells and bangs on it.

What, who, why. Why is this a thing? Why can they get in your brains? W h y.

Ronan Lynch

[greywaren]

[Despite working at the clinic, sort of, Ronan doesn't generally go in when he's sick. It's not like it happens often and anyway, he doesn't want anyone he doesn't like to be fawning over him- which is most of the people who work there, and also most of the people in the city and also most of the people he meets in general.

So he stays at home when he starts developing a cough- which is fine, he doesn't really like leaving much anyway. When the sickness gets worse, he sleeps in, curled in blankets and embedded in the depths of his room.

When it gets worse still, he starts fortifying the house.

The front door has wet red paint on it, lovingly marked with "STAY OUT". If that isn't enough, the windows are bolted closed, with heavy wooden planks over them, while the walkway is rigged with some kind of odd tripwire that will set off a small alarm of a bell ringing inside the house. There's more of course, each strange deterrent more haphazard than the last and each growing more and more sophisticated as the illness takes its course.

Ronan himself is busily boarding down more windows if anyone comes up, singlemindedly focused on hammering the nails down as well as he can while also sniffling and sneezing up a storm.]

[unknowable]

[Adam has done what he can to make being sick easier for Ronan - retrieving what juice he can find, plus tissues from the clinic and painkillers for the headaches. Finding cans of soup and supplying water. But it's nothing terrible, he thinks, it'll pass, and Ronan is pretty much doing what any sick person should do: resting and taking care of himself. There isn't much more that Adam can do to help him.

So he goes to the clinic and helps out where he can. Fussing over Ronan will just annoy them both, and Adam's never really gone for that long. Plus, he thinks, he's got his phone on him. Surely Ronan can text if he needs anything.

When he comes home, he isn't expecting - well, this. People have begun to act strange, yes, but it's not a clear enough pattern to put it together yet, and it's certainly not something he could have foreseen when he left early this morning. He stops, staring at the alterations Ronan has made to their home. Is making.]

Are you... feeling okay?

[That's a very stupid question.]

lunafreya nox fleuret | closed

[lunarie]

( prompts below. feel free to hit me up on plurk at kaldwin if you'd like to set something up! )

noctis—

[lunarie]

( it's still at the very beginnings of everything when umbra appears to noctis, barking happily as he pads up to the prince. around him is a familiar splash of green to carry another familiar sight. of course, it is not the same notebook they had shared since childhood but it had clearly been chosen with a certain fondness. shades of blue and gold, embossed with an image of the sun and moon together.

greeting him inside the notebook, instead of a pressed sylleblossom, is a sketch of one that has been done with absolute care. the next page features another sketch, a rocky overhead opened to the sky and the suns of this world followed by luna's familiar handwriting— )

I hope my words find you in good health. Although I know, given the devices given to us here and the small distance that separates us, I could easily call upon you or come to you in person. Despite this, I find myself a creature of habit and have sent Umbra to you with this notebook for us to share once more.

Our first encounter was hard and I feel like there is forever a million things I wish to tell you but know, if nothing else, you have my trust and my support. I shall always be at your side.

— Luna.

Nil | closed to Aloy

[atravellerwithabow]

[Nil hadn't been ill since he was a child. When it starts, it's a cough, a scratchy throat, and a minor annoyance that he does his best to ignore. When he could no longer ignore it, he had found a shady place in a quiet building and had attempted to ride it out.

And in all that time, he had alerted no one to the state of his health, and had certainly told no one where he was.

What drives him out into the sun again, then, is anyone's guess, and when Aloy does come across him he's perched at the edge of the pool around Hope's temple, eyes closed against the ceaseless pounding between his temples and every inhale-exhale producing a soft wheeze of discomfort. Despite his level of acclimatisation to the desert, there's a sheen of sweat across his forehead, and his headdress is lying in the sand beside him.

When he hears footsteps, his hand is quick enough to reach for his knife, his voice hoarse as he speaks.]

You'll not take me back.

[igniting]

[As soon as Aloy realized that this was more of an epidemic than a simple sickness being passed along, she started avoiding the city centers altogether. That would be the logical reason why she hasn't seen Nil, but he hasn't answered any of her messages, either, and she couldn't help but get worried. Of course she goes looking, and of course, things are worse than she expects.

She almost doesn't recognize him without his headdress, and when she does, she's shocked at how oddly... vulnerable he looks. The knife makes him seem less so.]

Nil? What are you talking about?

Oscar | OTA | The Clinic

[onlyanautomaton]

Even with the knowledge he has acquired of the techniques of human first aid, Oscar can't help but feel slightly ineffectual in the current situation.

Living organisms cannot be repaired in the same way that a vehicle can be mended and restored by a mechanic. They can seek help from the skilled hands of a suitably qualified practitioner; they can be offered some form of specialized treatment for their illnesses; and they can be made comfortable in their weakened state with the use of conventional medicine and other remedies.

But it is ultimately up to the involuntary processes within the biological structure to do much of the work in repairing itself. The human body's ability to recover from ailment and heal itself of injury is a marvel that is sometimes capable of operating independently of the aid of medical education or experience, though this can also be to its detriment if medical intervention is not sought out first for any necessary preliminary care.

There is no simple 'solution' to be had in the case of ill human health. All he can do is focus on promoting taking preventive action and looking after oneself... and then wait for nature to take its course.

From the day the sickness becomes a known issue that must be dealt with immediately, Oscar takes to frequenting his usual route for supplies twice daily in the hope that it yields marginally better results. Oftentimes it doesn't. At present, they are fortunate in that they have enough in their inventory to ensure the Clinic's operations continue to run at optimum efficiency. It is rare to find anything that would be even remotely useful in medicinal applications, but no matter what, there is always food amongst the items he delivers. He leaves the bag filled mostly with provisions in the designated location in the staff-only area or with any staff member that is not currently occupied with their duties.

As the days pass, the Clinic becomes increasingly less organized. Some of the medical staff have fallen ill themselves, yet they continue working. It isn't long before Oscar finds that he has formed a habit of remaining at the Clinic after handing over the supplies he has gathered for that day, placing himself on standby awaiting orders from the staff, hoping that he can be of use to them.

closed to caedra

[evocation]

[It takes Kyna a surprising amount of time to get sick. It was inevitable, because the entire town seems to be infected but largely because she's spent the last few days trying to take care of Wash and being entirely too cavalier with the risk of contamination. She knows, logically, that at some point everyone who gets sick starts getting incredibly, incredibly paranoid, but when she finally reaches that stage it doesn't matter. She can't logic herself out of it.

It starts with little things that she can mostly dismiss, until she realizes she hasn't seen Caedra in far too long. Since the woman arrived, Kyna has seen her out and about in passing. A demon disappearing with no warning isn't exactly a great sign, and so after a few hours of arguing with herself, she sets off, trying to figure out where the hell Caedra even lives. There are only so many places to hide in this city, right? And if she's outside of the city, well, that will be something of a relief. Maybe.]

[abyssalarcana]

[For now, Caedra has taken up residence in one of the imported houses. Its strangeness doesn't really bother her any - she selected it because it was just a bit farther away from potential neighbors than any other place, though admittedly not by much. It's too much space, actually, with its three bedrooms. Perhaps she'll find ways to fill those eventually.

What's most notable, though, is that rather than hiding which house is hers, she seems to have made it her duty to scare people off who might wander by. A daily casting of hallucinatory terrain, just before dawn, keeps its surroundings looking completely impassable, with dense winding thorned vines and jagged rust-colored rocks marring the surface of the surrounding landscape. It's a comfortable little barrier. It's also completely illusory should someone try to walk through it, but the idea is to keep people away before they even start.

On approach, Kyna will notice Caedra sitting out on her balcony, working intently at something with pen and paper. She's singing a song - quietly, to herself, lost in her own thoughts. At a distance it may be intelligible but if Kyna manages to creep closer it seems to be a folk song, the story of a horseman from Abachar who rode bravely into the dangerous mountains of Tochar to rescue his kidnapped lover.

Caedra doesn't seem to be paying close attention to anyone who walks by, though, so long as they stay outside that thorny perimeter.]

Curufin | OTA

[so_dark_a_road]

Anytime during the event

Curufin is not as sick as some are, and he's been trying to help his family and keep up with Guard routines at the same time. There are still some monsters about, and when they appear they need killing, which is one of Curufin's normal Guard duties. And now the Clinic is added to the list, since some of the staff are sick as well. Curufin isn't a healer, so he can't help much, but he brings people to the Clinic if they seem to be having too hard a time, and he does supply runs. If a sick person doesn't want to go to the Clinic, Curufin will take them to other locations, to a friend's house or to Hope's, Love's, or Tranquility's temples.

He's out in the open, walking the city, looking for anyone who needs help, looking for stray monsters, and just hoping for distraction. He looks a little feverish, but the hallucinations are mainly behaving themselves today and keeping in the background.

He's just crossed a road when he spots somebody approaching him. He halts and lifts a hand in greeting.

[roseofthetyrells]

[Margaery has run herself ragged helping at the Elfhouse and is now deeply sick herself. her eyes are bright with fever and something else. they're darting around her as though she's looking for something in every corner. she approaches him, something like relief on her face]

Curufin, perhaps you can help me? Cersei Lannister is here along with her guardian. They won't stop until I'm dead once and for all. I can't do this by myself.