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

Oh, that's very nice. Glacius wiggles his big toes just a bit, suggesting that he would be attempting to sink down further into the water filling the tub if he weren't already tightly crammed in the fixture to begin with. It won't be long until he's nearly submerged, at least, though overflow is definitely something they'll have to deal with given just how much space he's taking up on his own—eventually it'll reach a point where there isn't anywhere else for the water to go other than over the ceramic edge.

If Carlisle isn't bothered by that, though, neither is Glacius. The ice alien is just happy to bask in the cold, which is fighting off the lingering heat of his waning fever; he's so preoccupied that he misses the way his partner is eyeballing him, though he certainly wouldn't mind it.

"I am fine with being put to work once I am well again," the ice alien responds, his gills breathing out a puff of freezing mist that causes tiny crystals to gather on the surface of the water near his neck. "It would feel good to be useful again. Recovery is a necessary process, I suppose, but I cannot help but feel as though I have spent too much time languishing. Once I have the capacity to help you again, I would... like to do so. Yes?"

Edited 2018-04-27 18:46 (UTC)

Carlisle cannot help but smile at that, his eyes searching for his partner's and remaining upon his face. He can feel his heart thudding in his chest, relief washing over him at Glacius' improving health. "Yes. Of course."

That smile lasts only a few seconds longer as he suddenly stiffens, his teeth grinding as cold water pools around his feet. The overflow isn't too bad, thankfully; it is, however, painfully cold to his human sensibilities. The glyph darkens and dissipates as the puddle stretches toward the bathroom door. He grabs a couple of towels from the cabinet and tosses them down, soaking up the excess dripping from the tub.

"Rrrright, need to, ah." He pushes one of the towels around with his foot, grabbing a third. "Adjust that. L- less water for you, ob- obviously. Bigger than me, so there is more of you to p- push it out."

"Like a glass overfilled with ice cubes," Glacius chuckles, but the joke is somewhat of a sheepish one. Humor is not his strong suit, the self-depreciating type in particular, and it feels strange to compare himself to an inanimate object... even if that is what he has more or less been, stuck in the bed and now the bath as he has been thanks to his sickness. It makes that ugly feeling of uselessness start nudging its way up again, like a fish perusing the surface of a pond for insects which it can feed on.

So the alien frowns and tries to combat those undesirable feelings by focusing on the one who alleviates them: his partner. Despite the fact that he should be soaking as much of his body as possible he sits up and twists his body so that he can fold his arms on the tub's edge and rest his head on them as he looks at Carlisle. The movement has the added benefit of leaving a bit more room for the water, some of which recedes back into the space his upper body has left. "Sorry. I did not mean to make more work for you, having to soak that up. I cannot get over this sickness soon enough... but I should not push myself."

This is more of a reminder for himself than Carlisle. Glacius will likely be raring to go very soon, but the next few days will be crucial to his recovery, and he cannot afford to burn himself out in his eagerness to get back on his feet and undo what work they've already accomplished. Hopefully the clergyman will be good at recognizing the signs and know when soothing the alien will be necessary; he has a strong track record, at least.

Carlisle glances back at his partner as Glacius resettles in the tub, and gives him a reassuring, but stern look. "Right. You have pushed yourself far enough, and cared for me so often. Let me do the same for you, for once."

He seems to be reminding himself of that, as well. With the floor relatively dry, he hangs the towels along the various hooks on the wall and darts into the den for just a moment, grabbing some of the cushions from the chairs and the blanket from the back of the couch, dragging them all into the bathroom. Setting them along the wall near the tub so he doesn't have to sit on the hard floo -- it has been anything but kind to him in the previous nights -- he makes himself a little sitting area. Before settling down himself, Carlisle digs through the drawer again, grabbing a pen and his glyphs for alteration.

"Just allow me to adjust these for you, just in case you should require another bath. It's a rare occasion where you ever even seem dirty, admittedly, but a good soak would be beneficial to your armor every now and then, I expect."

"That is because I can just let the surface layer of my skin simply run off if it does get dirty," Glacius replies, happy to have Carlisle back in the room with him even though his departure had only been a brief one. "I pride myself on cleanliness, you know—and I suspect this is just another thing we have in common, given how meticulously you tend to your own appearance, your own spaces. It does not hurt to look good, no? And it certainly would not be very presentable if I were to walk around with filth or sediment obscuring the luster of my ice."

The alien shifts in the tub lightly, letting the cold water lap against said icy skin. "But you are right, of course... soaking and bathing is for more than just looks. I cannot cleanse my skin if I do not have liquid with which to reconstitute it. With this water I can do just that, using it to replace the layers of my armor that have been formed for longer, removing dirtiness and repairing any damages. Bathing allows me to completely refresh my icy skin, in other words. It feels good."

And though Glacius never lets it go too long to the point where a passerby or even friend could tell, he hopes Carlisle can notice the different between armor that has been kept long enough to become slightly cloudy or chipped and the sparkling sheen of a brand new coat of ice. That's a sentiment he's not going to voice aloud, though, for fear of coming across as vain or attention-seeking.

In the time they have been together, Carlisle has indeed noticed the way Glacius' armor changes, namely the chips and scratches it garners over time. He's traced the ice with his fingers in the night while lying beside his partner, felt the grooves and nicks himself while committing the microweave to memory. It's odd for Carlisle to think of those blemishes as anything but a part of Glacius' armor: his uncles wore plenty, the pieces gaining more and more marks over time, the scars of battle giving them character and telling wordless tales of their adventures. Such gear gets worn down over time, however, and must be replaced, much like Glacius' icy shell.

The shine of a new coat, so clear and pristine against the alien's skin, is appealing. It allows Carlisle to see the microweave more easily, along with the lightbound scarring used to repair it. Together, they divulge their own tale to any who may notice them. To Carlisle, they are special: a sign of their Bond, of how he may help his partner in this world. It is in each other's company that they have proven strongest, time and time again.

"Good," he replies, a genuine smile pulling at his features. He gets to work on one of the glyphs before him, changing the inscription as a chuckle escapes him. "If only a bath could refresh this body of mine in the same way, I might be a very different man in terms of appearance."

Edited 2018-05-02 06:30 (UTC)

"Yes, you humans have to scrub to slough off that old surface layer," Glacius acknowledges, watching Carlisle's eyes drift over him before he switches his focus to altering the glyph. Though he'd be uncomfortable with anyone else observing him in such a manner, he knows what the gaze means coming from it's partner; it's the same sort of look the alien gives when he takes in his partner's features, or considers contact between them. "But there are some similarities. Warm water does help to hydrate and cleanse, correct?"

The ice alien pauses as a thought occurs to him, then continues. "I would still like to join you at some point, by the way. I wonder... would it be possible to use some sort of... magic or spell that might make my underbody more temperature-resistant? I am assuming that if you could do it with glyphs you would have already mentioned it to me."

Carlisle's hand freezes, the quiet scratching of his pen dancing across the paper silenced for only a few seconds before he resumes his work. He has pondered this suggestion before, ever since the first time Glacius made it; however, he has yet to find a way to quiet his lingering worry and dispel the mental image of his partner melting away. Despite his concerns, he's inclined to want to devise a way to see his partner's wish come true, as he has no doubt Glacius would do the same for him.

"There is lightbound scarring, as we have used before," he notes, his eyes still on the page. "Though if there is a fault in the inscription, it won't be nearly as easy to fix as these, and the consequences will be far greater than merely a wet floor."

Glacius shifts quietly, extending his arm and turning it so that he can see the scars drawn into him by his partner. "Hm. This can do something like that?" the alien asks, his voice thoughtful. Then, still holding the limb out, he flicks his gaze back to Carlisle. "Well, I suppose that stands to reason. It is serving the same purpose as my microweave: helping my body maintain proper temperatures. I suppose it is not a stretch to think that it could give resistances to them, too."

The otherworldly being considers it a moment longer, flexing his fingers a few times before settling his arm back on the edge of the tub. "It needn't be something so permanent, though. If there was a spell that could just be cast when we needed it, that might fade on its own... ah, but that would mean asking others to lend their thoughts on the matter. If I am going to trust someone to experiment with my physiology, I would vastly prefer it would be you."

"If it needn't be permanent," Carlisle replies, thinking aloud, "then perhaps an imbued tea would be the best way to go. We'd have to test it, of course, as a magical drink might not interact with your particular anatomy and energies quite as readily as I can on the manual level, but that might be a way to, at the very least, mitigate some of the inherent problems with you slipping into a warm bath."

He slows down, trying to manage his thoughts; they're still frantic from his relative lack of sleep, and therefore harder to control. "Al- although perhaps it'd be safest if I just took a cold shower instead. Much simpler."

Simple, yes, but not nearly as relaxing for his stiff joints and aching forearms. His need to water his garden through magic has only exacerbated his condition over time, and with each month that goes by, it gets harder to pretend that he's not hurting. His plants only needed minimal watering when in the cool comfort of the cave, but on this world with multiple suns, the only way he's managed to keep his garden green is by ensuring his various shrubs and vines never go thirsty.

"Simpler, safer... but defeating the point," Glacius notes, "Which is to allow us both to be physically close and comfortable at the same time. It is no more pleasant for you to plunge yourself under cold water while pressed against my freezing skin, than it is for me to bare myself and subject myself to painful heat. Enchanting tea seems straightforward and is something we are both familiar with by now, so I think we should start there."

The ice alien doesn't just leave it at that, though; he extends one arm, offering his hand for his partner to take. "It will be worth it in the end, that I can guarantee. We have managed very well given the different needs of our bodies, but wouldn't it be nice to be able to come together without worrying about that at all? To hold you in my arms without worrying about you getting cold... for me to bare myself to you without you worrying about me overheating... that's all the more focus that we can put on our love for each other."

Carlisle smiles and takes Glacius' hand, liking his partner's reasoning. His pragmatism does help curb his partner's tendency to go about things in as complicated a manner as possible, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. He has spent so long isolating himself from such things that he struggles to find the way out of his own maze of internal debate. Leave it to Glacius to show him the simplest exit, even if it requires knocking a hole in the wall (and even then, that might be more of Algidus' style).

"Speaking of the needs of our, um. Bodies" — he really shouldn't put it that way, he chides inwardly — "I have something for you once you are feeling better. It won't help you now, but- but in the future, I believe it could be useful for you. Kate's beau brought it by a while back, and I thought just now that it may be best used in your possession rather than mine."

"Kate's 'beau'?" Glacius is not familiar with the term, though he can figure what it means. "I have not yet met the man, though I really should rectify it. Still—are you sure you are alright passing his gift on to me? If he brought it specifically to you, perhaps you are who it should remain with."

The ice alien has not yet drawn the connection between the objects from each inhabitant's own world recently, and what Carlisle is suggesting now; he's supposing it was just a nice courtesy that Kate's significant other brought to his partner. He's not sure how he feels about encroaching on that, and he'll be even less sure—yet simultaneously even more flattered—when the meaning behind the clergyman's offering is fully explained.

"It will be better in your hands," Carlisle insists, reddening just a hair -- whether it is from the idea of this gift, or the fact that he's somehow met Kate's beau and Glacius hasn't, he doesn't say. He knows she and Glacius are close, but just how close is a bit of a mystery. Carlisle only hopes she has expressed it openly to Glacius at some point, rather than assuming he will figure it out on his own.

"The man's name is Ignis," he continues. "Glasses, my height. His hair has a bit more color, I believe."

All that Glacius lets out in response to that is a note of acknowledgement; he cannot recall encountering anyone like Carlisle is describing, and unlike his partner, it does not seem to bother him. The alien's attention remains on the other subject at hand. "I will respect your wishes in this regard, I just do not wish to somehow slight the man's offer. Are you going to tell me what you are re-gifting to me, or is this to be some sort of surprise?"

"After you soak, my friend," Carlisle says with a hint of a smile, pushing his notes aside. He stretches his neck this way and that before settling back onto the cushions, his weariness having finally caught up to him.

"Until then, I believe I'll just... shut my eyes for a moment or two." Or three, or however many moments of rest he may find while Glacius finish his bath. He pulls in a breath, one deeper than his last. "Then we will see to your surprise. It has waited this long, so... a little while longer will be fine, don't you think?"

"I think so," Glacius replies, more than happy to hear his partner suggest he might try to shut his eyes. That had been the reason he'd climbed into the tub in the first place: to soothe Carlisle's worries and hopefully allow him to rest, so the alien is surprised and glad both that he doesn't have to do any more convincing in that regard.

To really drive the point home that it's okay for his partner to relax, Glacius does the same, leaning back against the walls of the tub and closing his eyes. He, however, does not plan to sleep; he only waits until Carlisle seems to have drifted off before he cracks one eye open to check for himself. Confirming that the human is out for the moment, the marshal opens the other and then rises carefully from the tub to gather his partner up carefully in his arms and tote him out into the living room.

If Carlisle happens to wake up in the process, that is fine; if not, then the otherworldly being is happy to sit on the couch with his partner bundled in his lap for as long as he needs. Either way, Glacius figures that it will be much nicer than dozing on the floor of the bathroom... and he's glad to see Carlisle actually getting some sleep. The alien knows that after the way the clergyman kept that worried vigil for so long, he likely needs it. He's had some experience with those himself, and he knows the way they tend to run you ragged... he feels lucky and touched that he has a partner that will put himself through that just to look out for him, but also concerned. He must help however he can.

As Glacius leans back in the tub and settles down for what Carlisle assumes is a nap of his own, the clergyman feels that much more relaxed. Everything is going to be fine, he inwardly insists. He'll close his eyes for just a few minutes to alleviate the throbbing behind them and that dry burning that says he's been awake for too long. And so he does close his eyes, pulling in a long, deep breath, then another. And then a third.

And by the fourth breath, he's out, exhaustion finally overtaking him. He doesn't stir as his partner rises from the tub, nor when Glacius gathers him up to carry him into the den. It's only as they settle on the couch that he mumbles something -- Glacius' name and a vague question about where he put Rabbit. Carlisle always says he sleeps best when he's beside his partner, and that seems to hold true as he snoozes for nearly an hour, only waking as he turns his head and the corner of his glasses hits Glacius' leg, pushing them askew and off his nose. That's a sensation he's well-attuned to, especially when it comes to putting him on high alert.

Carlisle sits up immediately, his hand going to his face to catch his spectacles, his voice ringing in sudden alarm. "My glasses!" It takes him only a second to realize they weren't being taken, he's not on the floor of the bathroom anymore, the couch cushions have been returned to the chair, and that Glacius is out here in the den with him, seated on said couch cushions.

"C- cisth, how long was I out? Sorry, I- I didn't mean to nod off like that. I was supposed to be keeping an eye on you."

Glacius blinks, mildly surprised by his partner's start; even when he tries to provide his partner with a peaceful rest, there's always something to upset him, it seems. Quickly realizing that what had caused said alarm is nothing serious and that it was simply a misunderstanding, the alien's expression shifts into a smile quickly enough.

"Hush," Glacius replies, tapping Carlisle once on his round nose, "You did exactly what you were supposed to be doing. You cannot keep an eye on me if you are too exhausted to keep them open in the first place, no? I'm glad you got some rest. Besides, the whole reason I dipped into the bath in the first place was to get you to do so."

The ice alien pauses before shifting, cradling his partner's head and shoudlers as he leans down to bump his forehead to the human's. "How are you feeling? Do you need to sleep for longer? I can fetch some tea if it will help you relax—I'm an old hand at making it, now."

Glacius bumps his forehead with his own, and Carlisle returns the gesture, a sheepish laugh escaping him. "I will catch up on my sleep later, thank you," he assures. "Tea would be nice, but I'd rather you not push yourself so soon after you've recovered."

He slides off the couch, holding up a hand to his partner as he beelines for their shared bedroom. "You wait here just a moment. I promised you a surprise, and I intend to make good on my word."

And without so much as waiting another second, he's gone. So much for that relaxation.

Well, at least he's not so exhausted that he can't still bustle about, Glacius muses as he watches the human go. There's not much that he can do save for wait to Carlisle to come back; thankfully it's not like the bedroom is far, so the alien isn't left twiddling his four thumbs for long.

It's when the clergyman returns that Glacius lifts his head. "Alright. What is this surprise you are so insistent on showing me?"

"This," Carlisle says with a hint of pride and a lopsided smile, presenting his gift.

Immediately noticeable is the beastly head, that same kind of flat-headed, bear-and-tiger-had-a-child-and-it-ran-into-a-wall sort that adorns his own, enchanted cloak. Given the leather straps and the single, massive paw, it's clearly not an entire pelt like his cloak is, but rather something to drape around one's shoulders. Attached to the pelt is a faded capelet, one that has seen its fair share of long journeys. The garment takes up the entirety of Carlisle's lanky arms; there is no way this gear would fit someone of his stature.

The clergyman adjusts the strange piece in his grasp, righting the head and letting the long arm of the beast drape across his forearm, the straps dangling as he balances the oversized head in both hands. "Ta-da."

Glacius looks the capelet over as it is presented to him. It's only the face of the beast that it was made from—similar in appearance to the one that Carlisle owns—that lets Glacius recognize the gift for what it is. The alien blinks in surprise, straightening up immediately; surprising indeed.

"Oh..! This is... a keepsake from your world?" The importance of that is not lost on the otherworldly being; he meets his partner's eyes, his own gaze uncertain but touched. "I-I did not think... I mean, are you sure you wish to gift this to me? It belonged to your family, did it not..?"

He could be mistaken—maybe it is presumptuous of him to think that Carlisle might gift something with such significance to a being as different, as alien as he is. Glacius himself clearly can't seem to quite believe it... but they've always attested to the sense of belonging and acceptance that they find with one another. The physical confirmation inherent in such a gifting is not something that he'd expected, but it's clearly struck him deeply; if Carlisle truly means to pass this possession on to him, then it means he seems him worthy not only of owning it, but of being associated with his lineage... and even if its influence on his partner has been questionable at times, Glacius knows how much that it means to Carlisle.

... It just seems that he perpetually underestimates how much he himself means to his partner. Maybe that's why this offer seems to have left him uncharacteristically shaken; it's like a wake-up call of the best sort. There's little room for confusion or misinterpretation after a gesture like this.

Carlisle takes Glacius' utter bewilderment as a good sign, not realizing just how monumentally shaken his partner is by this gesture. He runs a thumb over the fur of the kalugra's head; despite the monstrous nature of the beast, he looks upon the mantle fondly.

"This mantle belonged to Uncle Boris, and served him well for many, many years. Each member of my bloodline- we traditionally receive a gift made from the kalugra, as it is the beast of our family crest. While not the, ah. Most attractive creature, it is known for being as fierce as it is hardy. Like my cloak, this mantle is enchanted, as well -- something to protect the wearer from the most extreme of elements. I... I thought it might help you manage the oppressive heat of this world. And we would match, in a way. Aheh."

He's more pleased about that last bit than he thought he would be.

"Match, indeed," Glacius muses, finally managing to overcome how the act had left him dumbfounded. He still feels deeply, almost sickly touched, but the reality of the situation—of their situation—is sinking in. The alien has always adhered to the idea that actions speak louder than words, and this one resounds very clearly.

"It is a gift as thoughtful as it is lovely," the alien continues with a warm smile, "Especially on a planet such as this, where the environment is harsh. And now there is finally something that denotes our connection that people can see just by looking." Clearly Glacius likes the idea of matching, too. "It's... perfect. If you truly wish to gift this mantle unto me, then I accept with eager and grateful hearts. Thank you, Carlisle."

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