hadriel_logs | Event Log: Flu Season

Entry tags:

Event Log: Flu Season

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

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.

It probably says something to Alucard's state of wellbeing that he hadn't noticed Rhy was there at first, until the other man speaks up and starts towards him. He thinks he does a fairly good job of staying upright, as opposed to draping himself over the table as he wants, but the fact that Rhy is asking after him probably doesn't bode well. He thinks about lying, but what would be the point? He's not certain he's up to any sort of a charade otherwise.

"Do you know," Alucard begins, his voice rasping out a bit rougher than usual (it's actually quite attractive in a hoarse sort of a way but he knows that it means he's about to lose it sooner or later), "I feel rather as though I've been trampled by a horse." He glances up at Rhy, at the frown on his face, and offers him a tired smile. "It must be bad, to have you looking at me like that."

"You look rather as though you've been trampled by a horse."

That isn't entirely true. Alucard is clearly tired, is clearly unwell, but he looks - well, more or less as he ever does, except perhaps more sickly. But Rhy can see the difference quite clearly, as likely anyone who knew Alucard well could... but of course, there aren't many of those here. There may not be many of those anywhere.

"Why don't you lay down? There's some fruit juice that might help."

He thinks that sort of thing is good for illness. Rhy remembers being sick himself - not often, but occasionally as a child - and being given soups and juices and strange concoctions. He only has one of those here, but he ought to at least offer it.

He hums softly in the back of his throat at the suggestion. Juice sounds nice. Lying down sounds even better. The only problem with that is that he will need to get up first in order to do so, and he isn't so certain that he wants to do so just yet.

"I should, yes. Maybe in a moment," he says, running a hand through his hair and over his face. Is it warm in here? Or perhaps is it him? Another symptom of whatever it is that's begun to settle over him. "I've made it so far as here, you'd think another room wouldn't seem like such a journey. But it may take a moment or two before I manage to convince myself it's worth the effort."

Alucard lifts his head out of his hands and offers the other man a soft smile. "It sounds rather pathetic when you say it out loud like that, though."

Rhy's fingers itch to reach out, to straighten Alucard's hair where he's pushed it into disarray, or simply to touch him. But if anytime was a bad time for that, it would be now, and so he refrains. He takes himself to the kitchen instead, striving for a light tone to disguise his worry.

"Well, I'll get you some juice at least, shall I? Maybe that'll give you enough energy to get to bed."

He hopes that Alucard is exaggerating for dramatic effect, or perhaps for sympathy. Rhy doesn't know what he'll do if Alucard is seriously ill. He has no skills in that area, and no real idea what to do, and he worries anything he could do would only make it worse.

Alucard is honestly more a man who would under-exaggerate his condition than over. Perhaps it's how he has found himself in this predicament in the first place. If he had only stayed home -- if that is what you call this room in the spire they have together -- in the first place, he might not feel as awful as he does now. As it is...

He watches Rhy cross into the kitchen, listening for the sounds of his movements. "Juice," he repeats. "Yes. Maybe so. Or maybe you'll just have to carry me," he chances, with a weary quirk of his lips.

Okay, maybe that was a stretch. But he's tired enough, he'd be willing to give it a try, if Rhy's up to the challenge. He wouldn't complain if Rhy wanted to touch him more in general, truth be told.

He finds a glass, pours some juice into it. He's trying to think about what else he can do - what he would do at home. Call servants to bring soup, call doctors. Since coming here, Rhy has become very aware of how little he can do on his own. He was raised to be a prince, to rule, to lead, and as such he often doesn't know how to do small day-to-day tasks. He's learning, but right now 'learning' doesn't get him very far.

"Oh, you can always lean on me if you need to. So long as you take care to sneeze in another direction."

He keeps his voice light, easy. What else can he do? Rhy sets the glass next to Alucard, unable to entirely mask the concern in his eyes.

"Drink that, then rest if you can."

Alucard may be feeling awful, but not awful enough that he doesn't catch that look on Rhy's face. He reaches for the glass, moving to take a sip and feeling the liquid burn slightly down his scratchy throat, but it's good. He'll feel better for it. And he'll feel better for Rhy at his side as well. He reaches for the other man, unthinking. Moving to catch his hand, if he'll let him. Skin fever warm against his own.

"I'll do my best," he says, with his best attempt at a reassuring smile, squeezing Rhy's fingers. Opening his mouth to continue, "Stay. Stay with me."

It is perhaps not what he had intended to ask of him. But now that the words are out...

Alucard's hand is too warm in his, but Rhy doesn't let go of it. How could he, when Alucard is looking at him like that, asking him to stay? It's because he's sick, Rhy knows that, but it's - too much, almost. Living together at all is already a form of subtle torture, and this is a more painful pinprick.

But Rhy can't let it affect him. His worry now needs to be not for his own heart, but for Alucard's health. And that is impossible not to worry about.

"I've no intention of going anywhere." He is more serious now, trying to offer reassurance since he can do nothing else. "You need someone to take care of you. I may not be the best choice, but I'll try."

Alucard is distantly aware that his hand is probably a little bit off-putting, but he's grateful that Rhy is humoring him nonetheless. Swiping his thumb over the other man's knuckles gently before simply just holding on. He's grateful for Rhy's reassurances. He'll be even more grateful if the other man sticks to them.

He lets out a soft noise of protest at his words. Not the best choice, Rhy, honestly. The man may not make all that much of a nursemaid, but there's no one Alucard would rather have by his side. Of course, it's one thing to know as much. It's another thing entirely to say it aloud.

"I need you," he insists. "And this glass of juice and perhaps a day or two of rest," he adds, to lighten the mood, flashing the other man a smile. "I don't think Esa will be very sympathetic to my plight, no matter how sweetly I ask her otherwise."

It is difficult, in some strange way, to hear Alucard say that he needs him. Or maybe it isn't strange at all - maybe it makes perfect sense that it's difficult. After all, the loss of Alucard, his sudden abandonment, still serves as a source of pain for Rhy. He wants to be needed - he wants Alucard to need him. It's a selfish impulse.

"She will likely be pleased if you rest for a day or two. She seems to like having you to curl up next to." Rhy, of course, chooses to respond to the bit that doesn't make his heart clench. He smiles, a touchy shaky but genuine.

"I'll get you more juice if you need it, and water, but I think the best thing for you now is rest. I've never seen you sick before."

So hopefully he's more worried than he needs to be.

Alucard hums in the back of his throat at Rhy's commentary, raising the glass to press the side of it against his forehead and try and find some relief in it. It feels nice. Probably a little too much so. He wonders distantly whether he should be concerned about asking Rhy to be near him but he supposes that living together, if this is contagious it's already too late.

"It's been a while," he replies, honestly. "But not so long as you might think. There are some particularly unsettling illnesses men will pass around to each other, particularly on ships, where there is no escaping one another, and without a healer to speed recovery..." He gives the other man a little shrug. "The Captain's cabin only offers so much refuge."

He reaches out to touch Alucard's hair, carefully, gently. He probably shouldn't - he probably should keep his hands to himself. But it's impossible, especially when Alucard looks the way he does. Rhy always prefers to see the people around him be happy, content, not - this. Especially the ones he cares for.

"It sounds terribly unpleasant."

He doesn't ask why Alucard didn't come back, if it was that bad. Likely it was just sometimes. Likely the benefits were worth the dangers. They had to have been.

"We could go to the clinic."

Alucard thinks about forcing himself to move that far and groans softly. He registers that he's hardly being cooperative but he's only just made it back to their little apartment and he doesn't want to force himself back out. He doesn't want to go anywhere or do anything but stay here. With Rhy. Just to be with Rhy. Rhy touching him, at last. Rhy's attention on him. At last. Maybe suggesting to go to the clinic is his attempt to get rid of him. Well Alucard won't have it.

"No," he replies, more forcefully than perhaps he means to. "I won't go. This is where I need to be." Even if it kills him, it means he will have had this one last chance to have been with Rhy. Even if they were never really back together in the way he might have wanted.

He lowers his glass and reaches for Rhy's arm, his stormy blue eyes fever bright as he clutches at the other man. "Don't take this away from me." He isn't even registering that he's not really making sense anymore.

He's surprised by the vehemence of Alucard's response, surprised enough that he isn't sure what to say. Rhy feels certain the clinic would be better for his health, but he isn't going to force Alucard to go. He couldn't even if he wanted to, and now - now he's not sure he wants to at all.

It's rather self-centered, really, because he finds that he likes Alucard's desire to stay. It doesn't make much sense, not really, but Rhy wants him there, and Alucard - for whatever reason - wants to be there. Thinks he needs to be there.

Rhy doesn't understand, but he also isn't going to disagree.

"I won't make you go." He says it as if that's his final word on the matter. "But won't you at least lay down?"

Alucard's grip on Rhy tightens for a moment longer -- fingers hot against the other man's cooler, more healthy skin -- before he nods. Alright, maybe he should lie down. He's feeling woozy. Light-headed, and it would probably help if he got some rest. At the same time...

"You can't leave me," he says, and if he were in his right mind he would recognize the way that it sounds. The phrasing not quite right. "You can't, Rhy." As though he won't let him. As if he had any choice in the matter, when he can barely sit upright, let alone the rest of it.

He does not know what to think of that, what to make of it. Some petty, childish part of Rhy wants to protest, wants to point out that Alucard is the one who left him, that Rhy never would - never would have. But he knows that's meaningless right now. Alucard is feverish, not thinking straight. Not thinking of that, certainly.

"I won't leave. Everyone seems to be getting sick, anyway - there's not a single good time to be had out there." He makes his voice light again, frivolous. Truthfully, he wouldn't leave even if there were, not with Alucard like this. Rhy doesn't know how to help him, but he's certainly going to try.

"Come on. I'll help you to your room."

Alucard studies the other man's face carefully for a long moment before he finally nods, relaxing slightly into his chair. It doesn't seem like Rhy has any ulterior motive. He's agreed to stay, he'll help him to his room. All the signs point to wanting him there, but there's this unsettled feeling inside of him that still says otherwise. Of course, there's one way to find out...

"Let's go to bed then," he says. As if this is the most natural thing in the world. As if they haven't been keeping separate bedrooms for the last several months. As if he hadn't disappeared for three years with no explanation and has still given the other man no explanation as to why.

That gives Rhy pause. More than pause. He hasn't the first idea how to respond to it, and for a moment, he can't even think. It's just - memories, too many of them, of Alucard saying similar words in that voice of his, and Rhy is not over any of them yet. Perhaps he never will be.

But surely that isn't what Alucard means. He's clearly not well, and he's - confused. Not himself. Or at least Rhy thinks that must be the case, because why else would he say such a thing?

"Ah-"

He really doesn't know what to say. His usual charm and easy replies always seem to desert him with Alucard.

"You're rather ill. It's best you sleep alone."

It's a sign, Alucard is sure of it. At least, his fever-addled brain makes him sure of it. It's best he sleep alone. Rhy doesn't want him here. Rhy wants to get rid of him. That's why he hasn't touched him the whole time he's been here. That's why he hasn't kissed him. Rhy wants him gone.

"Is there someone else?" he asks, suddenly, searching the other man's face because it's clearly the only possible explanation in this. "Are you seeing someone else? Rhy." The other man's name crawls its way out of his throat, cutting through the air between them like a knife. Something rattles in the kitchen and Alucard doesn't realize that he's losing control of his powers but perhaps Rhy might do.

What Rhy feels immediately is defensiveness. What right does Alucard have to ask that question? Rhy's affairs are his own because Alucard decided they should be. He doesn't get to ask that. He doesn't get to care.

But he bites down on that, though it takes an effort. Alucard is not well. It's increasingly obvious that in addition to his illness, he's not thinking right. Not thinking clearly. Rhy hears the dishes rattle and that's another piece of proof, another reminder that he can't react rashly, no matter how much he wants to.

"There's no one." He can't keep his tone from becoming curt, but at least he mostly manages to keep his temper under control. "You need rest, and I don't want to get sick."

"No one..." Alucard echoes, and he supposes that's true, his magic settling for now as he recognizes as much. He supposes that he's not seen Rhy bring anyone home to their apartment, that he would have seen them if that were the case.

He swings his head to look into the other man's face, deep blue eyes searching deep. "Not even me." For he recognizes the truth in that as well. Rhy, pushing him away. Everyone always pushing him away. His father, his brother, Kell. Had Rhy ever truly wanted him or had he ever just been a prince's plaything? No one had come after him after he'd been sent away. Certainly not the first time, and definitely not the second. How long had it even taken Rhy to notice he was gone?

"Not even you." He says it quietly, because after all, he can't disagree. At home, he flirted, he found ways to amuse and distract himself without ever allowing his heart to be put in danger again. Here - here, there's really none of that. Oh, he can flirt easily enough, but with Alucard nearby he has no interest in anything further.

It's his own fault, for never quite being able to get over him.

But he knows better than to get involved with Alucard again, or so he tells himself. And Alucard - is as handsome as ever, as charming as ever, but Rhy can't tell where his heart lies.

Right now, none of that matters anyway.

"Especially not when you're sick. Now go rest."

A part of Alucard, a part of him that is not consumed by jealousy or fever, can feel his heart breaking at this particular admission from Rhy. It's a truth he knows deep down inside of himself. It has to be true, after all, for Rhy has shown no interest in him the whole time he has been back. A part of him regrets his return, for that reason. Regrets their proximity. Regrets being able to see and not touch, not love him as he had before. But only a part.

Unfortunately it's not the part of him that's in command of his abilities now. That jealous, angry, lonely piece of himself wants to grab and take and possess all of the other man that he can. But he feels so warm, his head spinning even as he sits in place where he is, and he doesn't think he could manage any of that even if he tried.

"I need you," he says, softly.

Event Log: Flu Season

[closed to rhy]

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sorry not sorry...

omg!!!

he's a bad, bad man

no... he is amazing

if you say so ;; my inner alucard just feels so bad for this

its ok i like to be sad

so do i tbh makes it worse again

CRIES

TWISTS IT DEEPER i live for this

oh god my heart

;; <3

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