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

The cold mist continues to settle in the room, freezing droplets drifting onto the bed and the alien resting on it before being soaked into his own icy skin, but it will take Glacius a bit longer to actually relax. The paranoia that the gods have planted in his mind had spiked again when the first glyph sprayed its moisture, causing fears of poison in the water to fill the ice alien's thoughts and making him want to tear from the room despite his sickened state. He had to close his eyes and focus on the soothing feeling of the treatment instead of thinking of what it could be a cover for—it felt good, it was helping, the freezing mist battling with the worst of his fever.

What it was not doing was killing or harming him, and that realization was like a heavy blow to the weakening chains that the gods had shackled Glacius' mind with. He could trust this. He could trust Carlisle, more importantly. The tenseness wracking the otherworldly being's body finally released him with the worst of his paranoia, and his body went limp, limbs resting heavily on in the mattress as his head fell back into the cushions. He'd open his gills to let out a sigh, but they were still stuck together with the worst of the gunk his gills had been generating to try and fight off the sickness, making it hard for them to accept the hydration in the same way the rest of his body was. Maybe that was why his breath was still coming in short, why it was hard for him to address or thank his partner.

One of Glacius' hands twitches slightly as if he might be trying to gesture to Carlisle instead, but his joints still ache as his body is still left weak from his sickness. They still have a ways to go to relieve the alien of his suffering, but at least they've taken their first steps.

At even the slightest beckoning from his partner, Carlisle crosses into the freezing mist of the room, wrapping a hand delicately around Glacius' fingers. He knows all too well the signs of stiff joints, and doesn't wish to exacerbate the situation.

"If this doesn't help you in anyway," he starts, using his free hand to wipe the water from his glasses, "I had considered filling the tub with freezing water and setting glyphs around the bathroom. Since you were already here, I thought trying this first would be, ah. The better option."

He offers Glacius a nervous smile as he tries his damnedest to both stay strong and swallow down a cough he feels itching at the back of his throat. "Or- or I could conjure some water here to help your gills, Glacius," he adds, the idea coming to him belatedly. "Whichever would be better for you. You must trust I want to help you, though."

Edited 2018-04-12 23:23 (UTC)

Glacius offers up a hoarse, broken little chirp when Carlisle carefully clasps his fingers, unable to acknowledge his partner much more as he fights both with the compulsion of the gods and his own miserable sickness. He also can't do much to return that nervous smile. The alien is listening, though; after a few hacking coughs where he tries to clear his gills enough to reply and largely fails, he knows what has to be done.

"The... last one," the otherworldly being wheezes out—once so strong, now enfeebled on the bed, wholly dependent on the care of his partner. That realization actually gets him to squeeze Carlisle's hand back despite how difficult his his; even the strength of his grip is failing. "Just be sure the water is... disinfected. Clean. I—I need to breathe again."

Because he doesn't mean to alarm his partner, but it is getting harder to do that—and even though he's capable of enduring a lot of terrible shit, the feeling of laying on the bed as he slowly suffocates is deeply unnerving—so much so that the worry is currently trumping the paranoia in his mind.

"I don't believe I could conjure filthy w- water if I tried," Carlisle assures his partner, gesturing for an orb of water to manifest in his hand with minor magics; he doesn't know that he couldn't summon something dirtier, as he's never thought to try, but now is not the time for such endeavors as it is.

He conjures another orb, then another, adding each globule to the whole until he has a substantial amount pooled between his hands -- the sphere is nearly large enough to surround Glacius' neck, should he sit up and dip his head into it. The globe remains together in the air, as though contained by an invisible orb, only a few drips of liquid escaping from where the mass touches his fingers, trailing down his pale skin; it does, however, seem fragile, if the delicate way he holds it and the concentration heavy on his brow are any indication. Perhaps the tub would have been a better idea, but here they are.

Well, between the orb and the mist spraying from the glyphs, it's not like the room could get any wetter.

Glacius cracks his eyes open as he detects Carlisle working some kind of magic, that glowing green gaze filled with as much weariness as pain at this point. All he really wants to do at this point is just... to drift off and forget everything for a time... but he's rapidly nearing the point at which that might become dangerous. After all, if he passes out, how much of a struggle might it be to wake up again?

So the ice alien focuses on offering guidance to his partner, as hard as it is in his current condition. "Good. Now..." his gills flutter stiffly again, pushing in and barely out as he attempts to breathe. "Can you use that to clean the film out of my irritated gills? If it remains, it will be harder and harder for me to take in either hydration or oxygen..."

Carlisle nods before adding verbal confirmation. "Right. Of course."

Cleaning Glacius' gills is always a tricky operation, and one Carlisle doesn't particularly feel comfortable doing most days, especially since the alien's double once ruined those gills with Carlisle's own plants. However, he meant it when he said he'd do anything for Glacius, and that includes swallowing his own apprehension to help his partner. Every strained breath Glacius takes is like a knife in Carlisle's gut, taking him back nearly a year in time; his hands shake as he thinks of the blood and mucus upon them, the destroyed filaments and the thorny vine twisted among them telling him exactly whose fault it was that he was suffering.

The watery orb between his hands wavers, and Carlisle forces himself to refocus. He has a task to do, and with a quick breath to steel his nerves, he gets to it.

Edited 2018-04-16 07:19 (UTC)

Thankfully, Glacius' gills are normally perfectly capable of maintaining themselves with aid from his gelatinous operculum; not so thankfully, these are not normal circumstances, and thus they will require more care. At least Carlisle is no stranger to treating them and keeping them clean at this point, given the state of them that he is now recalling; compared to how ravaged they were after his double had attacked him, this should not be too tricky. It takes a few rinses to really clear the worst of the gunk out, and some still plagues the alien's lower airways, but they're not going to be able to do anything about that like this; some of Glacius' recovery will be solely up to his body. At least they are treating the most dangerous symptoms, like his raging fever and his near inability to breathe.

And breathe the alien does once he feels his gills left cleaner than they have been in days; all eight of the biological vents flare open and he sucks in a breath, pushes in out, then pulls in another one. He's not quite able to perform that last exhale without coughing again given that his lower airways aren't clear, but at least the filaments in his gills are now able to receive moisture again, filtering oxygen out of it and passing it to the rest of his body. Glacius finally relaxes a hair more and nods, spending a few moments just trying to reestablish a normal pattern of breathing. It's been some time since he felt like he could do it fairly freely, a testament to how bad his condition was getting as the god's influence forced him to push Carlisle away.

Realizing that is another step towards separating his own will from theirs. The ice alien is still too stiff to do much moving about, but he does muster up some strength to reach for Carlisle's hand despite the protesting of his joints. "Good. Th-that's better. Thank you... my partner."

Edited 2018-04-17 21:28 (UTC)

Eyeing the gunk washed out of Glacius' gills, Carlisle wonders just how much trouble it will be to clean this room once his partner is well. They really should, he supposes, just in case the sickness lingers in the air, clinging to the furniture and sheets. He doesn't get to dwell long on that that thought as his partner takes his hand, drawing his attention. He gently returns Glacius' grasp, his own hands shaking from the chill of the room.

"Of course, my f- friend," he consoles with a soft smile, hoping his partner will think little of how much effort Carlisle is putting into getting him well. He knows he would think far too long on it, himself. "Perhaps now that you c- can breathe, your head will clear, and you will see I was t- trying to help you all along."

That suggestion causes Glacius to tense again, that paranoia trying to trickle into his thoughts once more from the back of his mind. He is cognizant of it now, though, and with his fever being cooled and his gills clear, it is much easier to think—which the alien does, trying to mentally work himself through it. Don't get caught up. Untangle the threads, separate the wills. The only threat to you now is your sickness; he is working against that, not against you... even at his own expense...

That much is for certain because the ice alien can feel the shaking of of Carlisle's hands as he holds his own, and that is what finally pulls Glacius out of his internal struggle. He casts his head back to stare up at the human, his eyes filled with tired regret. "My partner, I am sorry... I have... done us a disservice with my fear and doubt. I-I did not understand it at first, but I should have. Just know that if that had been me, and not the will of some damned parasites, I... I would never have..."

Edited 2018-04-19 13:55 (UTC)

"Glacius," Carlisle starts sternly, his brow wrinkling despite the smile still on his face, "you have no need to fret over this any longer. I, of- of all people, know too well the sight of someone no longer in control of their own will. This is not your fault." He give his partner's hand a pat. "I'm just glad to have helped you come to your senses, as you have done so many times for me."

Another heavy shiver runs through him, his clothes doing little to keep out the mist still spraying from the glyphs at this point. "Now if-f-f you don't mind, I do need to go change into something dry. Perhaps you could join me when you're feeling better? I'm sure being stuck in here hasn't- hasn't done you any favors."

He often prefers the safety of a single room; Glacius, however, is a different story.

Getting out of this small little room would certainly be good for Glacius, but there are unfortunately still a number of obstacles in his way. He frowns at Carlisle's offer, at the shiver he can feel racing through his partner's body—at the knowledge that he is not yet well enough to truly show his appreciation for the clergyman's pardon and self-sacrifice.

"I would like to, but... I should stay in the cold of this room until my fever has broken," the ice alien replies, sighing sadly. "Plus, I am not sure how much strength I have to move around right now. Every joint in my body aches, and the work my immune system has been doing has left me enfeebled. I should probably rest in here for the day, but... hopefully after that, the worst of this will have passed, and I can rejoin you once again."

Glacius frowns, not really wanting to be left alone, but knowing that staying in here with him will not be good for Carlisle's health and comfort. "You should go, though. You have done plenty for me, and I will probably just try to sleep this off... so go get dry and warm. When I wake, then I will make an attempt to be with you. If that is alright."

"Of course," Carlisle agrees readily. Though shivering and absolutely ready warm himself with a hot drink and dry clothes, he can see that Glacius doesn't want to be left alone. He can't blame his partner -- he's spent a couple of nights himself in a heap just beyond Glacius' door, wanting to be as near as possible in case of an emergency. Though leaning against the wall isn't conducive to a restful night in the slightest, and he can still feel Glacius through the Mote, Carlisle cannot help but want to be physically close to his partner, as close as he can be in spite of this sickness. It has been so long since they slept in separate beds; it's starting to feel so foreign to him, unfamiliar to the point where he wonders how he ever lived alone at all.

His dreams are more restless when he sleeps alone. His mind wanders, often into the worst of places. He doubts himself: if he cannot help Glacius get well, what good is he?

Carlisle forces himself to ignore his self-deprecation for now. "Should you need me, I am here." And with that and another squeeze of Glacius' hand, he finally leaves for now. Time for a hot shower, a cup of tea... and then another night's vigil by Glacius' door.

Thankfully, it will be the last night Carlisle has to put up with such lonely circumstances for some time. Though Glacius hadn't noticed such behavior when his mind had been addled by both the gods and his sickness, and he's exhausted enough now to fall asleep fairly quickly after his partner leaves, when he wakes in the morning he cannot help but wonder what the clergyman is up to. The ice alien still has not made a complete recovery—after how badly off he was, that would be a bit too good to be true—he does feel like his fever is diminished and some strength has been recovered, thanks to his solid night of rest. He sits up, tests his limbs—they are stiff and slightly shaking, but they'll cooperate... and Carlisle had been right. After being bedridden for so long, the alien wants to get up and move about.

So Glacius moves somewhat sluggishly to his door, pushing it open to find the clergyman right there. Surprised, touched, and regretful all at once, the bulky ice alien squats down right next to his partner. "Carlisle, you should be in bed..! Ah... but... I understand. I am sorry I keep leaving you to have to deal with things alone." Never mind the fact that it was Glacius who just went through a horrible, agonizing ordeal. "Are you alright?"

The sight that greets Glacius as he exits his room is a lonely one indeed: rather than leaning back against the wall, Carlisle apparently opted to lean forward this time, his legs crossed before him, head propped on his arm, blanket draped over him like a cape. Sitting in front of him are a few papers and a book to write on, as well as a pen that clearly slipped from his hand at some point in the night and was chewed on a few times by Rabbit. Finding it wasn't food, he abandoned it, as well.

As Carlisle is snoozing in that sitting position, Glacius startles his partner as he speaks, his voice, hoarse from coughing, a nearly unfamiliar one. He stiffens reflexively as he sits up, one hand reaching to his papers, the other tightening on the pen that's no longer within his grasp. His eyes dart around for it for a second or two before landing on Glacius, his mind answering the sleep-addled question of What was I doing out here? quickly enough. Right. Notes. Keeping an eye on Glacius.

He runs a hand across his scalp, brushing back his hair. "No no no," he starts in, his voice frenetic as he tries to acclimate to being awake once more, "don't- don't apologize. I just- I suppose I dozed off out here while working." Which he intended to do all night. "No need to worry. How- how are you feeling? Should I get you something? More water, perhaps? Or a- or a cold bath might do you wonders, actually."

"Working there, right by my door, on the uncomfortable floor instead of at the table or desk?" Glacius tilts his head, then shakes it. "No, I do not believe it was just that. You were looking out for me."

Normally the ice alien might not call his partner out like that, but it's important that Carlisle knows that the alien isn't oblivious to what he's been going through—and moreover that the clergyman knows that it is appreciated. The otherworldly being butts his forehead briefly and gently against the human's, then pulls back to consider his offers.

"Both would help, but... later. Unless you don't mind sitting by the bath with me while I soak. I'm feeling stable enough right now, though, even if not completely recovered... so I think we should try and get you comfortable, if you've been sitting like that all night. You've been looking after me for so long... is there anything you need, my partner?"

"I need only for you to be well," Carlisle answers, his attempt at strength a poor one given the bags under his eyes. Regardless of the weight he carries in them, he scrapes up his papers and pushes himself to his feet, continuing: "And if you believe that a soak would help you, then let's do that. As pleased as I am to see you out of your room, you look as though remaining on your feet for too long would do you more harm than good."

And with that, Carlisle puts a hand on Glacius' arm and tries to coax him into the bathroom. His movements have that frenetic quality to them, his hands twitching, eyes darting from object to object as he enters the room and figures out what he must do next; he's the image of a man who fears that if he stops for even a moment to catch his breath, he will be caught by everything he was running from in the first place.

"I can bring some pillows in here," he murmurs to himself, his voice picking up speed. "Make it comfortable so I can remain near you, in case you should need me. The water still isn't working quite right -- hasn't since the Null's attack, really -- but I can conjure plenty with glyphs. It will be sure to be clean then. It's- it's not a vast sea or a snowdrift, but it should suffice?"

"Er, yes," Glacius blinks, having allowed himself to be ushered into the bathroom—only to quickly pick up on Carlisle's twitchy motions. There is a nervous energy bubbling away in his partner; it's not unusual for the flighty human, but it has been some time since the ice alien has seen it this bad. Rather than stepping towards the tub he turns in place, putting both of his large hands on the clergyman's skinny shoulders.

"But perhaps we should take it... a bit slower. I am sure you used up quite a bit of energy during my care, and if you have really been trying to sleep right outside my door, then you probably have not been getting much rest either. Now that I am on the road to recovery, I do not want to push you towards some sort of similar burnout or sickness. So can you just... take a moment and try to breathe for me, Carlisle?" Glacius asks, lowering his head slightly in a way that suggests quiet concern. "I promise you I will be well in time. We cannot neglect you in the meantime."

Carlisle brings his hands to rest on those at his shoulders, his expression hardening with a determination he would never utilize for himself. He takes in a deep breath, pushing it through him before speaking.

"I will rest once I feel I can," he states. "The ambient temperature out here isn't nearly cold enough. Let- let me just prepare this bath for you, and once you are settled, then I will settle, I promise."

Carlisle gives Glacius that lopsided smile, one that is unfortunately nervous by design. The bathroom is spotless; his nails are clean, as he has had ample time to pick at them, clearing out any lingering ink beneath them. The signs he has been troubled might not be obvious on the surface, as he has been careful to manage them, but his metaphysical connection with his partner is the one most likely to give him away: Carlisle has been careful since the onset of Glacius' paranoia to not purposefully draw upon the Mote, worried it would only validate his partner's concerns, however influenced by the false gods they may be.

"If all I cared about was ambient temperature, I would not have left the bedroom that you set up for me," Glacius protests further. That determination in Carlisle's eyes surprises him though, and if the quickest way to get his partner to rest is to allow himself to be situated, then the alien supposes it cannot be all that bad to go with it.

His remaining mandible flexes briefly as he grapples with the decision, before he ultimately makes up his mind. "I am holding you to that promise, then. It is a miracle you have not gotten sick already, and must make sure you do not fall prey to that or to exsiccation. I understand why you were wary, and I am truly sorry for that... but my energies are yours, and now that I am myself again I desire only for you to use them. I am... so sorry that I made you feel as though you had to hoist everything unto yourself. It was... not how things are supposed to go at all, now that you bear my Mote."

As Carlisle's eyes widen with momentary alarm, his mouth starts before his mind can catch up with it. "I- I know it isn't, but I—"

Annnnd he reels it in, chewing on the inside of his lip, one hand going to his arm to pick at his sleeve as he caters to his nerves. "I didn't mean to shoulder it all, and- and I haven't, I don't think, but I... admittedly, I did fear that pulling upon your Mote would only further what suspicion had poisoned your mind."

His eyes fall, guilt weighing them down. "None of this is particularly strong magic, what I've been doing."

"Ah—Carlisle, that was not what I meant at all," Glacius replies, moving one hand to catch his partner's chin the second it starts to turn down. "You do not have anything to feel bad about in this situation; as you said, you were just trying to keep from aggravating my addled mind any further. It is I who treated you so poorly that you felt you had to take such measures to begin with—that is what I meant when I referred to things not going as they should. If I had been stronger, or if I had the sense to turn aside their influence from the start... we would not be here."

The alien sighs, his shoulders sagging. "So please do not think I was blaming you for any one this. I have already done you enough disservice throughout the course of these past days. I hold only gratefulness in my hearts for your efforts... and the earnest desire to repay them, if I may do so."

Carlisle brings his hands to Glacius' at his chin, reveling in the touch. "As I have said, there is no need to apologize," he reassures, swallowing his guilt for now, burying it within his gut as he tries to refocus on his partner. "There have been times where I was the one taken in by the gods' influence while you were seemingly unaffected. Perhaps they overlooked me this time." He can only assume they did so because he is, by his very nature, already sickly and paranoid. Perhaps they pitied him, or perhaps they felt they could subject him to nothing worse than he suffers already.

"Now please," he implores, "into the bath. I- I haven't yet perfected the glyph to fill it, so it might flow over just a bit, but nothing that- that we can't just clean up later."

They can only hope Carlisle remains unaffected, though that does little to allay Glacius' fears that his partner might end up overexerting himself on his behalf. Even if the clergyman claims that this particular use of magic is nothing serious, that worry will always be present after the alien had seen just how badly off the clergyman's condition could leave him. But he has access to the Mote again, and apparently Glacius' relaxation is the key to Carlisle's as well... so the ice alien finally nods, taking his hands from his partner and turning so that he can step over the ceramic edge and into the tub.

There, he lowers himself down; he doesn't really fit into a human-sized fixture, as he has to tuck his long limbs up slightly, but he doesn't complain. Instead he swivels his head to look at Carlisle, scrounging for a better topic, one that might reassure and bolster them both. "I am looking forward to when this sickness has left my body for good. What should we do when I am restored to health? We should plan something. It would be nice."

Carlisle latches onto the warmer topic easily enough, a genuine smile crossing him as Glacius brings up the topic of them doing something nice for themselves to celebrate his return to health. He lets Glacius get settled into the tub before answering, turning to the counter and digging through the drawer for another sheet of paper. In his partner's absence, he's been busy working on these, tucking them away throughout the apartment for various needs.

Having chosen the appropriate glyph to replicate, he digs out a brush and a small jar of ink, taking them both to the tub. Once there, he carefully copies the glyph from the page to the wall of the bath -- it will dissipate once utilized, and he can scrub away any remaining traces, as he always does when he makes a mess.

And if the absolutely pristine look of the bathroom is any indication, he's been doing some scrubbing lately.

"It would be," he agrees, his tone lighter. "Perhaps we could have another outing beyond the gods' reach, though I do worry about the heat."

His brow knits as he ponders that topic a moment longer. He may actually have a solution for that now that he thinks about it, but he will save it for when his partner is well. One thing at a time. He must remain focused.

"If we did it once," Glacius pauses as a small cough works its way out of his gills, "We can certainly do it again. I think that would be a good idea. What would you like to do? Explore? Or find another old building to simply hunker down in? Is there anything you wanted to do during our last trip that we did not get to?"

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