the pines mods. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
officialnotice) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pineslog2017-03-21 05:02 pm
officialnotice) wrote in pineslog2017-03-21 05:02 pm
Entry tags:
- ! event,
- º fate: elizabeth bathory,
- º fate: ibaraki douji,
- º ff type-0: jack,
- º ffxv: aranea highwind,
- º ffxv: nyx ulric,
- º ffxv: prompto argentum,
- º jjba: dio brando,
- º lost girl: kenzi malikov,
- º mass effect: lantar sidonis,
- º mcu: skye,
- º mcu: steve rogers,
- º original: junyoung cho,
- º ouat: jefferson,
- º the hollows: rachel morgan,
- º trc: noah czerny
( march event ) outbreak
EVENT: OUTBREAK
It must have been something you ate.
Some time between waking on the 22nd and the middle of the afternoon (for some of you, this basically equates to the same thing anyway) your stomach has chosen to rebel against you and whatever it was that you ate that displeased it so. The nausea creeps in slow and insidious in the beginning and then refuses to leave, followed closely on the heels by sharp abdominal pains and diarrhea.
It isn't enjoyable by any stretch of the imagination, but there's nothing particularly ominous about the symptoms either. The only thing to really do about food poisoning is ride out the bad bits and maybe take a good long hard look at some of your recent meal choices and adjust them accordingly to avoid having to go through this again any time soon. Except. Except that the symptoms haven't gone away by the next day, have instead been joined by a new set of them: a tingling or burning sensation scrawling up and down your arms and legs, sinking into the tips of your fingers and toes, and crawling up your throat to settle like a prickling, unsettling mask over your face.
It... probably wasn't something you ate. Especially since a lot of your neighbors appear to be suffering from the same symptoms as well now.
By the 24th, it's clear that the quiet town of Wayward Pines has a full on epidemic on their hands, as the symptoms continue to spread throughout the community and are joined rapidly by problems with dry mouth, shortness or breath, choking sensations, confused or slurred speech, and a loss of coordination. People are on edge, even suspicious, and the streets and shops slowly empty of people with each passing day, making it all the more obvious when someone chooses to cross the street rather than risk walking past you on the sidewalk. (They cross again about a block up to avoid someone on that side of the street as well, so it's probably not you specifically that the good people of Wayward Pines are avoiding.)
The hospital is doing the best that they can with the large scale of affected patients, but it isn't until the 25th that they manage to narrow in on the correlation between worsening symptoms and hydration. They put out a call for blood donors, flyers calling on people's civic duty appearing in everyone's mailboxes and pinned in the windows of the handful of businesses that are still open. If they're to have any hope of engineering a treatment for the outbreak, they're going to need blood, they say, and even if nobody has died from the illness yet, do you want to wait until they do?
(The flyer sounds like it was written by the same sort of person that would guilt you into giving your mother a call a little more often, you only have one after all, but it brings the donors in so whatever works I guess.)
People suffering from the disease are highly encouraged to come into the hospital for treatment if they haven't already, and a number at the bottom of the flyer even offers house calls for those who are already too far along to make it to the hospital under their own steam. If you're not up to donating blood, you might want to give that number a call. After all, you must be on death's door if you can't even do that much to help your neighbors in their time of need.
And while you're at it, why don't you call your mom too?
no subject
Which is how he comes to find Kenzi laying on the floor, looking a mess. Dropping the package on the closest surface, he rushes to her side, crouching down to make sure she's still... alive? Conscious? You know, the usual. ]
What happened? Kenzi?
no subject
I'm makin' cookies, what does it look like?
[Don't answer that. She knows it looks bad. She should be in bed, but--]
I was gonna take them over to my cousin's place for his bff Steve because he helped me out and I owe him but then I thought, wow the floor looks comfy...
[Excuse her while she just reaches for your arm, Jefferson. Help her sit up. Sitting is hard.]
no subject
Maybe the cookies should wait for another time. I can get you to your bed...
no subject
Noooo thank you.]
He let me borrow his jacket and I didn't even recognize him and I feel like a huge jerk and I haven't even said thank you or sorry or anything--
[She winces as her stomach ties up in another painful knot of a cramp and decides that maybe sitting is better than standing right now. Thought sitting in a CHAIR might be better than sitting on the floor.]
Jeff, help me, I'm dying. My last wish is to bake these cookies. Tell my beefcake husband I love him. I put you in my will to inherit all my eyeliner and my collection of other people's postcards.
no subject
How about I do the baking, while you give me the instructions? Now come on, let me at least get you to the table. [ He won't even give her a chance to argue before he's picking her up to deposit her onto one of the kitchen chairs. It's a good thing Kenzi weighs hardly anything at all. ] Whatever you have must be serious if you're talking about giving me your eyeliner.
no subject
We'll never know.
The guy just got home from his actual job and now she's making him work. One of these days, his insane amount of kindness towards her is probably gonna run out the way she keeps spending it. For now, she tries to smile her thanks.]
It's totes serious, I'm not gonna make it. Don't let them bury me in anything but designer labels. [She's joking obviously, but it really does suck.] Maybe it's something I ate? I don't even know. My stomach wants no part in digestion or keeping food anywhere near it.
no subject
[ In fact, he'll go about preparing that right now, putting a kettle of water on the stove to boil. ]
no subject
Has anyone ever asked you if it hurt when you fell from heaven? Because it's not just a pick up line, you're an ACTUAL angel.
[She's just gonna sprawl out across the table with her head against the cool surface.]
I hate being sick. There was this one time-- [She stops herself because it's not a memory of here. It's a memory of a time before, and she's not sure just how much those cameras pick up. That talk with Damon made her pretty paranoid.]
Long story.
no subject
[ Hey, look at that: one absolute truth to actually break through all the confusion usually swirling in his head.
As Kenzi starts to tell a story, Jefferson tilts his head, his interest piqued. But before it can go anywhere, she cuts herself off, resulting in a little frown from him. ]
Oh?
[ Ah. Wait. The rules. Jefferson fidgets a little, then turns and eyes the kettle for a moment, just to mask his discomfort. She didn't have to say anything, after all, to remind him that they're always being monitored.
Clearing his throat with some awkwardness, Jefferson pulls a pair of scissors from one of the drawers and hands hands them over to Kenzi. ]
Could you open that for me? [ The package he dropped on the table, that is. ] I'll go ahead and start on the cookies.
[ Not that he's... ever made chocolate chip cookies before. Or any cookies. But how hard can it be? ]
no subject
[Kenzi groans, mostly due to the effort it takes to lift her head and hold her arm out to take the scissors from Jeff. Even more effort is needed to pull the package close enough for her to drop her head back onto in place of the table. Her stomach hurts and it takes her a second before she starts fiddling with the scissors, opening them one handed while her other arm is around the box, holding it still.
She turns her head to the side, still resting on the box but close enough to the edge that she's got lots of room to dig at and slice through the tape along the seam. It also gives her a view of Jefferson and the cookie ingredients in case he messes it up.
The process is slow and clumsy and there's more than one near-miss with the scissors and her eye, but she manages to free the cardboard flaps from their sticky prison so she can actually open the box.
...Okay, that takes longer than usual, too. Mostly because she's using the least amount of energy she could possibly be using and looks more like a toddler that missed naptime and is not having a fun time right now.]
I know you didn't order something of Amazon because the internet saw this place and ran the other way. So who sent it? A crush? A lovah? A.... mail order service for well-dressed tea shop owners?
[She's got her hand in the box now. It's... soft?]
no subject
Amazon? [ Oh no, he's confused. Amazon isn't part of his lexicon, it seems. Jefferson shakes his head, tying on the only apron he could find: a pale pink gingham number accented with dainty flowers. ]
I don't know who sent it? Certainly not a crush or a... [ He makes a face and shakes his head even more emphatically. ] lover.
[ Now to peer at the recipe in the cookbook. ] What's inside?
no subject
Oooooh. Mystery box. I bet it's a secret admirer.
[What IS inside? That's a good question. Kenzi pulls the soft thing out and sets the cardboard on the floor. It's... it's--]
Awwwwh, it's a lil bunny!
[She promptly gives it a BIG SQUEEZING HUG before holding it up for Jefferson to inspect.]
no subject
I don't have any of those. [ Who on earth would be his secret admirer? He's about to return his attention to the cookies-- or, rather, actually starting on the cookies-- when Kenzi lets out such a delighted squeal at the box's contents: a little stuffed rabbit, wearing a smart little outfit.
He can picture somebody else holding it, a little girl with dirty blonde hair, an uneven braid... For some reason, it hurts to think about, and Jefferson blinks and turns back to the counter. He wipes at his eyes, disturbed to find them wet when he doesn't even know why he should be upset. ]
It must've been sent here by mistake. You can keep it.
no subject
[Why did he look so upset? Kenzi hugs the bunny to her chest once more, seriously thinking about getting up despite the pain in her stomach and the shivers all over her body.]
I'm not gonna keep it. It's yours...
[Yeah, yep, okay, she's getting up and the bunny is coming with her. Hang on, this could take a sec. She's gotta push herself up from the chair with her hands on the table and the little rabbit under her arm so she can take slow, shaky steps to stand beside Jefferson.]
Are you okay?
no subject
[ For a moment, he's too wrapped up in his own sudden burst of unhappiness to realize Kenzi's hauled herself back up to stagger towards him. By the time Jefferson hears her shuffling on over, he looks over his shoulder with a worried crease in his brow, then quickly moves to get an arm around her for support. ]
You should rest.
[ Not going to address that question, because he genuinely doesn't even know what the answer is. ]
no subject
Kenzi just frowns up at him before slipping both her arms around him in a hug with the rabbit in the middle.]
I'll rest when you stop feeling shitty. Friends don't let friends bake sadness cookies.
no subject
At that rate, you'll never rest. But... Thanks. [ He offers a sad little smile. ] I meant it, though. You can keep the rabbit. [ He takes hold of the stuffed animal, lifting it to Kenzi's eye level. ] I think he likes you better, anyway.
[ His smile, at least, is more genuine now. ]