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?

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

M'not dying.

[Although it sure as shit felt like it, but Skye wasn't about to give up that easily.

She tried to plant her feet on the ground so he couldn't just steer around like a rag doll, which ended up being a stupid thing to do as she started to tilt forward. Hand reaching out for the wall, Skye managed to keep herself from falling down.]

They aren't working on it enough fast.

[Something about that sentence didn't seem right.]

Fast enough.

[Why the hell couldn't she get her words out right?]

'Not dying' isn't your cue to get up and go into a coma in the hallway. If you need to get on an IV drip, you need to be in a place where the nurses can fucking get you.

[ Without even batting and eye, Lantar catches her and bends to sweep a hand under her knees to lift the tiny human up. She can complain all she wants, but he's not setting her down until they're back at her berth. ]

Besides, you might be dying. How do you even know? No one fucking knows.

[Skye doesn't have enough energy left in her to fight him, even though in her head she's trying real hard to squirm her way out of his old.]

No coma.

[She's so good at speaking right now.]

Need to find cure.

[Yeah she'll do that as she starts going limp in his arms.]

[ Yeeaaah, he's getting the impression that this lecturing isn't really going anywhere and she was definitely getting pretty delirious. Lantar sighs quietly, nudging the door to her room open with the back of his shoulder.

... He really does hope they find a cure.

Sighing quietly, he lays the woman out on her bed, careful of his claws. Stepping back, he takes the pallid color of her skin before shaking his head and picking up the blanket from where it'd rolled up at the foot of the bed, pulling it over her. ]

You're not going to die. [ His voice is soft and the words should have been encouraging, but they're strangely layered with something dark instead. ] They're not going to let you die.

[Not that she wanted to admit it, but laying down was way better than standing right now. She can barely keep her eyes open, even as he's talking to her. At least this way she couldn't see that the room was tilting. Although it still felt like her body was tilting.]

Please.

[Her plead is pretty vague, but if she isn't allowed of bed he needs to find something. She's still not sure that these doctors are doing things with their health in mind.]

Just trust me, okay?

[ He knows what she's asking, but he doesn't know what will happen if he goes snooping around for answers. If it will just land them both in hot water. The screams in the woods, the fresh scars under his shirt collar, the bullet wound in his head that should have killed him... what will happen to them if he tries digging?

And maybe he's being a coward, but the last time he was brave, the last time he stepped out of line-

Lantar gives her shoulder a shaky squeeze, careful of his claws. ]

It's okay. They'll figure it out. You're going- you're going to live.

[ Whether she wanted to or not. ]

They did this to us.

[It's a bold accusation to make, but Skye's lost any reason to care if they overheard this.

Not when she's in a lot of pain and there's so many others here in the same situation. That can't be a coincidence.]

If they did, they can do worse.

[ Lantar keeps his voice down, barely above a whisper, but his undertones are grim. ]

I need to go. The nurses are too busy to help everyone and I- Look, just... stay in bed. It'll blow over soon.

[ He gives her shoulder another squeeze before letting go. ]

I don't know what's going to happen, but you should save your strength. This isn't the time to pick a fight.

[Skye knows he has a good point, but between how foggy her brain feels and her stubbornness it's hard to just give in completely. Except her body won't let her get up again, much less open her eyes.]

...don't know me very well.

[Yes. So threatening.]

Careful, please.

[There's meant to be more concern for him in her tone, but that's about as concerned as she can sound right now when she's already drifting off.]

( march event ) outbreak

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