pineslog | ( 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?

MOD NOTES

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Kenzi, no. Please don't take your eye out. Jefferson would be a poor housemate indeed if she lost an eye on his watch. He's too busy rolling up his sleeves and looking for an apron to put on before he gets to dealing with flour and other things that could dirty his clothes. ]

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?

Yeah, it's this website where you can buy shit you don't need and get it delivered to your house and you never have to interact with a human being. [She just chalks up his unfamiliarity to either memory loss or the fact that this place is immune to the modern age.]

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.]

[ Jefferson glances back at Kenzi, seeming way too delighted by the concept of Amazon. It definitely appeals to his antisocial tendencies. But then he lets out a snort as she goes back to the romantic angle. ]

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.

Jefferson--...

[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?

[ He shakes his head with a sniff. ] I don't want it.

[ 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. ]

[That doesn't answer her question in the least. He's legit avoiding the question by trying to bring attention to the fact that she feels like she's slowly dying from the inside.

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.

[ He has to admit... Kenzi's hug does help, and Jefferson soon finds himself reciprocating. Though he is, at least, taking the opportunity to steer the two of them (and the bunny) back to the table, even as he hugs Kenzi. ]

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. ]

( march event ) outbreak

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