exsiliumlogs | Epidemic Exsilium: Stage Two

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Epidemic Exsilium: Stage Two

Date & Time: June 8th - June 14th
Location: Throughout Exsilium
Characters: Anyone participating in hunting down the sleeper agents; anyone participating in taking care of the ill, or being ill themselves.
Summary: Stage Two of the Super Virus Epidemic strikes; sleeper agents of the United Earth are revealed.
Warnings: Illness, violence, needles. (Those IVs, man!)

Sniffles and coughs aren't unusual during the spring, with people combating allergies even in the far future, and colds being as present as always. But with more and more people falling ill, and none responding to antibiotics, things are starting to get worrying.

The first death is of an infant, on the night of the 7th. It's not the only one: three more are recorded not long after. It's unknown about the state of patients who never presented for medical assistance. Those familiar with viral infections fear the worse, especially as the usually healthy demographic starts arriving, coughing and displaying symptoms of the same sort of illness.

If that's not enough out among the natives, the Initiative has received its own information and insight into the true nature of the virus. "Wasmannian" Agents, spies of the Initiative in the United Earth, have reported back information at great cost to their security in their undercover positions. There is a super virus headed your way. They've been shipping it in to the island since December 3312. These are the manifests. We've deciphered most the code-names. Good luck.

Now the Initiative turns to the Transports for additional manpower to hunt down the United Earth's sleeper agents, pick up the shipments of the virus, and track down its physical origins in order to do something to stop the impending decimation of Exsilium's population.

Things are getting scary. It's a sick, sad world out there. Where are you, in the middle of it all?

Threaded | Flat

[Meliantha arrives at the hospital. She can barely stand upright, much less walk without coughing. She's only been sick once in her life, and that disease was magically induced. She hacks again, then swallows what comes up without thinking. Barely audible, she says to whoever is at the admission desk:]

I think... I need... a doctor.

[Then she collapses.]

June 10

[Kousuke has been clearing his throat a lot in the past few days. Today he's begun coughing, and coughing up mucous. He's definitely sick, though he has been denying it vehemently and dodging attempts to take his temperature. He walks into the apartment from a trip to the grocery store with a bag containing soda water, cans of soup, and a couple oranges.]

It's cold out there...

[His voice is lackluster and dull compared to his usual fervor. He's huddled into his vest with the hood up and a makeshift surgical mask over his face, lending an almost comical quality to his appearance. It is, of course, not cold outside at all. Roughly 65 degrees.]

June 13

[Over the last few days, Nitoh's gotten sicker and sicker. At this point, his coughing has subsided somewhat, but his fever has been steadily climbing. He sleeps a lot of the time, but when he's not sleeping, he's complaining.]

Hey, Haruto! Harutoooooooooo! Oriko? Somebody? I'm boooooored. And thirsty. And hot!

[He doesn't really care who comes to pay attention to him, but he's pretty sure someone should. He's lying facedown over his bed, shirtless and pantsless, in nothing but loud green shorts with a chameleon on them. When he yells, he lifts his head.]

[A: 12th June, Unit 302; closed to Alphonse]

[When the cough starts to worsen, Ed starts to work from home. He's got other people to think of, and that would be true even if what they were dealing with was a run-of-the-mill seasonal bug, but nor is it his style to uselessly sit around while he's still more or less breathing.

It helps for a little while, in a sense. The coughing fits begin to blur together. When this one stops him halfway to the kitchen, just as he was about to fetch himself another glass of water, his head is buzzing with half-formed ideas and rough calculations; the pain in his throat and chest barely registers with him.

The sticky patch of red in the palm of his glove when it comes away from his mouth is harder to ignore.

He stands stock still in the hallway for a minute, staring at it. Strange. Maybe the fever's finally getting to him too, but if he felt up to it, he thinks he'd probably laugh.]

[B: 13th June, hospital; open]

[Wander anywhere near this particular bed and it's likely you'll pick up the dulcet tones of Ed arguing with an IV. It's not easy to overlook the nurse hovering nearby, either.]

Listen, it's not that bad... [The croak in his voice gives lie to his protests, though.

The nurse, on his part, is standing his ground. They're strapped for resources as is; they don't need extraneous idiots killing themselves off through dehydration and tying up even more. Judging from the way Ed sounds, it's not so much an argument as a battle of attrition.

Still protectively cradling his left arm as if the needle is going to stab him by itself the instant he lets his guard down, Ed shoots a few pleading glances from side to side and across the room, hoping to catch somebody's eye. Anyone will do. Just back a guy up for five seconds. He's made the concession of dragging himself here in the first place; isn't that enough of a sacrifice?

...And don't laugh. There's nothing to laugh about.]

[C: hospital; open]

[Later on, it's considerably quieter in this part of the hospital. Ed is slumped against the wall, metal hand resting on a sheet of paper covered in scrawled notes and diagrams that resemble a certain comm device, his breathing a little shallow but regular enough. Can it be that he's managed to calm down long enough to get some actual rest?

Apparently not. Without warning, his eyes fly wide open, and he catapults upright.] Env...?!

[Whatever he was about to say sticks in his raw throat like a splinter. He doubles over, chest racked with violent hacking.

Once the coughing fit subsides, which takes a lot longer than he's happy with, he groans and settles back. He does at least think to wipe his hand thoroughly on the side of the bed before too much of the gunk that came out can clog up anything important, which is something.

He looks over to his side and points only slightly shakily to where his notes and pencil landed on the floor.] Hey... mind passing those back here?

After the briefing, Charles looks over the information he's been given. There's a notation at the bottom that says he's to follow his assignment with another Transport - otherwise, he'd be on his way right away. Instead, he waits as patiently as possible near the door of the Training Room.

[ Caesar's been staked out in Collette's hospital room since the 5th, when he finally dropped by to bring her a few items she left behind and he found a crocodile instead. She had remained by his side for his own uncomfortably still recent trip to the hospital and so he's decided to return the favor. ]

a. the naps and books between

[ And with no extra beds to spare, he's been stuck sleeping in chairs in the room, which is fine. Caesar has the fantastic ability to drop off to sleep just about anywhere, a skill that comes in handy here and now. Whenever Collette's out, he'll likely be sprawled out in a chair by the wall and catching a quick nap.

Either that or he'll be reading his tablet, from the digital books he downloaded from his last trip to the library, though that causes a whole lot of frowning. Science books, even basic ones, are all very frown-worthy.

Occasionally both will be interrupted by a coughing fit of his very own... ]

b. sodas and snacks

[ He can be found roaming the same route to and from the vending machines or the hospital cafeteria from time to time, too. His extended visit has left him with the same illness, but, for him, it's not serious enough to keep him down or require him to be hospitalized (though he could do with some cough syrup, ugh). ]

[Phoenix's coughing had started on the 9th. By then enough people were getting sick that he didn't have to be an Edgeworth-level of smart to know what was going on. When the fever started and it became harder to breathe, Phoenix didn't try to tough it out like he was twenty-seven still. He'd gotten up and texted Maya that he was going to go see the doctor (don't panic!!! they're professionals i think; the message didn't tell her not to come, though) and made his way to the Hold. Maya probably hunted him down on the way there, so he's grimacing at her as, finally at the clinic, he's led to a bed to rest in.]

I told you I'd be okay, you know.

[But he smiles at her gratefully for her company, if not worried that being around so many sick people will make her -- if she isn't not infected yet -- own illness progress faster. But then again, he couldn't expect Maya to stay away, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to be out there alone with that girl with the butterflies, either. So he scoots over on his bed to give her room to sit down, too.]

( Getting hauled to hospital by Jim hadn't been the most dignified experience of her life. In fact, she'd rate it pretty low. Hospitals had been uncomfortable, needled her with memories of Corrie, of the aftermath of Robyn. She's here because she has to be and because logic says that when you're sick you go to hospital, but she's not really happy about it. Being here since the sixth had only seen things seem to get worse, because there were more people coming in and not a great amount of answers, and she's considering just how bad it has to be for her to be hooked up to lines. They were probably dramatising, and she's gotten through worse without medication. Right?

Sure, Ellie. She could just hear the collective groan of voices from home and Exsilium alike, so she stays put and tries to pretend that she isn't relieved to have a bed, this time. It beat being curled up on the floor of a grain silo. And here she can at least be obnoxious over the network, even if she was better off sticking to text than abusing her voice more than necessary.

Thus far, her past times in hospital include: being a pain on the network, trying to perfect origami (she knows nothing about origami, and as it turns out, it's harder than you'd think to work it out on your own) and trying to list as many countries as she can beginning with each letter of the alphabet.

She is so, so bored. And freaked out, but she is trying to suppress that in favour of boredom. She's looking pretty grim at the start of the week, and just gets worse as it goes on. )

[Since the 10th, Johnny's been feeling run down. He's been exhausted, sure, but never like this before. Thanks to his demon genes, he's never been sick a day in his life, his constitution keeping him from ever so much as getting a cold.

He's stayed in his room mostly since, trying to rest. But by the 12th, the fever and coughing is too much, and he stumbles his way out of his room and out into the street. He's never even had to go to the infirmary before, so he'll have to stop someone to help him. He looks like something the cat dragged in, sweaty with dark circles under his eyes.]

Hey... Hey, where's the infirmary again?

1: Apartment

[So guess who isn't used to being sick? This guy right here. Shinigami, with few exceptions, do not fall ill. This is strange and horrible, and he hates it. But he's not letting that keep him down if he can help it.

[So what if he's being told he can't come in to work? He can still go over the records from his tablet. And he can still do all the household duties he'd assigned himself. He doesn't need to stay in bed at all, damn you. Fever, sore throat, coughing? Tch. He can handle it. Nevermind he gets worse at the days go on.]

2: Out and about

[Sick or not, he still has to get things done. Hell knows how useless Elliot can be. Still, he's smart enough to at least keep his mouth and hands covered so that his risk of spreading the infection further is minimized.

[And no, he's not going to the hospital. You can't make him. It's not that bad, damn it! Save the beds for the people who need them.]

A.

[You'll find Cheria either at the transport clinic or the hospital helping out. If she isn't rushing from room to room to check on people, she's behind the desk jotting down information on patients and keeping a record of all the symptoms that keep coming in.

She looks up whenever someone enters.]

Hello! How can I help you today?

B.

[Between shifts, Cheria's roaming the streets restlessly. There's too much to do and she doesn't want time to waste, even if she knows she needs to get some rest of her own. So when she gets sent home with those orders, she goes to check on people walking around around instead. See wants to see just how many people are sick that aren't getting help. If she thinks you're looking a little under the weather, she'll approach you.]

Um- Excuse me! Have you been to the doctor yet?

[Zevran notices the cough immediately. It is the sort of thing one notices, when one makes a living knowing every inch of one's body, of being fast and taut and silent. It is the sort of thing one notices when one grows up in poverty, when the kids that cough don't make it through the winter. He notices, and he is not precisely an idiot: he knows what is probably going on, and that he should ask for treatment.

He just... doesn't. He keeps it as under control as he can, and keeps to himself in is room. But a catnap turns into full-on, heavy sleep until the cough, this time quite violent, wakes him up.]

Barney's actually wearing the helmet of his Combine CP suit, and generally keeping watch around the hold to make sure people getting sick and dying doesn't turn into people getting scared and rioting. The only problem, and it's one that he's feeling very aware of, is that when you're dressed like a faceless stormtrooper, people tend to not like you very much. He's getting a lot of dirty looks from the natives.

As he's armed with a stun baton and a pulse rifle, no one has actually messed with him, yet.

Edited 2013-06-09 18:13 (UTC)

[ Between a few stolen hospital files and an 'x-ray' spyglass, tracking down the agent Allen and Lenalee had been given the details for hadn't been far from an insurmountable task. Caesar himself hadn't been interested in leaving the hospital itself to officially join the hunt, but he was inclined to tag along after when he found his roommate on the case. Between the three of them, it takes at most a day and a half to track her down. They had a name, the wing she was supposedly working in -- prenatal and natal ICU, of all places -- and the confirming was as easy as locating a few mysterious objects stashed away in the agent's own locker at the hospital.

Where else better to hide her drugs? Even in the future, the idea that locker rooms should maintain some modicum of privacy remains. Where the UE's virus shipment was kept, however...

They needed to find that out still.

Which is exactly what Caesar is checking for as the trio linger uncertainly outside the maternity ward's nursery. His spyglass is out and he can see right through the door without needing to open it. Of all the places to catch her at, this really was the worst, but time wasn't exactly on their side here... ]

She's in there alright, but I'm not seeing any weird extra cases of anything laying around. It's probably not here, assuming the hospital monitors that room.

[ Edmund was thankfully the least stubborn of his siblings and so he'd been able to carry himself to the hospital before he'd gotten too deathly ill. He'd had enough of a fever and certainly a bad off cough, and it seemed to get worse quicker than he'd really ever imagined an illness could before.

He knew they were likely going to be understaffed and he wanted to give his all to help them, but the most he could do at this point was stay slumped against a wall or a bed, and that was of no use to anyway.

He was definitely happier that his siblings weren't here all of a sudden. Giving in to another series of coughs, he grimaces when he pulls his hand back. He doesn't even know if he really has the energy to get something to wipe it off on and instead goes to lay his head back again, closing his eyes. ]

↷ june 10 - locked to gilbert

( he has a feeling this isn't going to be one of his better days.

oz hasn't been sick more than on a handful of occasions, so he didn't immediately think anything of the sore throat or, not noticed until even later, fever. there could be, after all, a number of reasons for them unrelated to the sickness currently going around, even if a weekend visit to the orphanage had proven that it too has been affected by this ue attack. by the second day straight of it however, with all of these only getting worse - and the onset of the cough he's getting used to hearing - he has a better idea of what may be going on.

but it's not so bad, he's sure, will likely blow over soon enough. no need to be too concerned - nor, more importantly, worry anyone else. so when gilbert mentions looking for these ue agents spreading the disease, he agrees without a second thought. )

↷ june 11 onwards | hospital

( it's possible he misjudged.

not that he'll admit it to anyone, of course. but despite all protests against hospitalization of all things (clearly an overreaction!!!) he fails to show any signs of improvement; really, quite the opposite. but some things don't change, and that means he will try very hard to have a sunny look and quip ready for anyone he happens to see or with whom he shares a room, and very possibly flirt with some of the nurses. he's not precisely difficult, but is all too happy to claim to be a lot better than he actually feels. )

A:

[One of the many perks of the bugsuit is that having his own feed of oxygen means that he's more or less safe from the epidemic - provided, at least, that he keep it on at all times. As unpalatable as that is, it's better than the alternative.

Something that is useful but most definitely does not count as a perk is the fact that he can tell when someone else has come down with it, whether the symptoms are showing or not. As much as it sucks to be the bringer of bad news, he figures it's only right to tell people if they are coming down with it, for the safety of themselves and their loved ones if nothing else.]

B:

[Once it's clear that they're talking about a doozy of an epidemic here, Jaime makes the decision to leave the interrogations to people who are actually good at it and busies himself in the clinic and hospital helping out wherever he can. He makes himself available to the doctors and nurses in the area, takes the odd opportunity to chat with his fellow volunteers and, when they aren't too bad off, keeps a few of the ailing company.

After all, he's not an official worker. That means that he can help keep some of the sick people sane via conversation, though he's not opposed to keeping them entertained through other means. Board games and cards, for example, are perennial favourites in hospital rooms.]

[Sango is always moving. It's what she does best in times of trouble and it's what she's going to do now. Move, and keep her metal mask pulled tight to her face. It's protected her from gases and poisons before; why not protect her from this?

She is constantly flitting from one place to another. [a] She's with the teams helping to track and interrogate sleeper agents. [b] She's in and out of the hospital to visit friends or help in between interrogations (though no one can fail to notice that she'll never allow herself to be checked out very closely). [c] She's stopping obviously, helplessly sick Transports on the street to bully them into going to the hospital themselves.

For the first few days, she's even alright. Maybe a cough here and there--she feels like the action is infecting her more than the disease--but she's okay. She's okay.

During the last day or so of Stage 2, Sango is still going and going and going, and looking more and more terrible as she does. Her mask is like a permanent fixture of her face; there are bags under her eyes; she runs an obvious fever and coughs frequently, and miserably. But her pain tolerance is high and she tells herself she doesn't feel it, even though she's [d] nearly bumping into people and Transports on the street, or collapsing into bed only to wake later and later in the day.

[e] Perhaps, during these later days, a little cream-colored two-tailed cat comes up to you and meows at you until you follow her to an exhausted teenage girl who desperately needs to be dragged to the infirmary.

[f] Or maybe you're present (or nearby) when, on the last day of the second stage, after holding out so long, Sango collapses. [g] Or when, hours later, she somehow finds herself in the hospital.]

[ FOR KANAYA ]

[It hadn't taken Nill long to realize she was getting sick. It took even less time for her to realize what precisely that had meant. It wasn't as though the information wasn't all over the network. She was sick with a manufactured plague, and if nothing was done about it, eventually everyone here would become sick. There was a possibility that everyone would die.

For all the things Nill had done in the past, or hadn't done in the past, she refused to be taken out of the picture like this. She was going to do something. She'd been trying to do something since the announcement was made, but today she woke up with a fiercer fever than she'd had the past few days, and breathing was difficult. It was hitting her quicker than she thought it would.

Even so, she wasn't going to do nothing. So Nill is out in the streets, bundled in her jacket, and a scarf to make sure she doesn't cough on anyone. Trying her damnedest to get something done.

It would help so much more if she could breathe properly.]

[ THE OPEN PARTS ]

( a. )

[So, that whole plan she had about getting things done? That didn't really go over well. She ended up getting dragged off for treatment by Kanaya, and now Nill's stuck in one of the various wards for the sick. They've given her a nasal cannula, and left her to her own devices, which mostly involve being sick and miserable and trying to pretend she can breathe right. The bed she has is near a wall though, and Nill is seated sitting up in her bed, leaning against the wall with her cheek pressed against it. She's tired as fuck, but laying down just makes the breathing thing more difficult.

At first glance she appears to be asleep, but when does that ever stop people from checking on others? Especially if they know them. Maybe doubly so if they don't. Her bed certainly wasn't that close to the wall when she got here, anyway, it might be a cause for concern.]

( b. )

[It's late evening now, and Nill has found she feels decent enough to get up and move around. One thing most people don't know about Nill is that, more than most things in the world, she detests being in hospitals. That goes doubly so for situations like this, because all she can hear are her own sick and miserable thoughts, on top of the sick and miserable thoughts of anyone in her range.

Which means - you guessed it - she's trying to sneak out when she thinks no one will care enough to stop her. You're more than welcome to actually stop her or assist her in getting out. Even if she does get out she probably won't make it back to her apartment, honestly.]

((ooc; As always, telepathy permissions!))

Edited 2013-06-11 04:49 (UTC)

A. June 8th [ Blaine's just walking around the marketplace or maybe he's near a cafe. He's looking through windows and talking up the natives, but he can't help notice there are a lot of people coughing. Runny noses and sneezing are prevalent and have been for the past few days. Hay fever sucks, but he's never had allergies and hasn't had a cold or the flu since middle school. Not to mention the latest news to hit hasn't been good. ]

Maybe I should have came out here with a gas mask. [ Or not at all, but he can't stand being homebound. ]

B. June 12th [ The very first time Blaine coughed, he felt a pang of dread go through him. It could have been just a normal cough from a speck of dust or a dry throat. It could have been totally inane and nothing to worry about, but he had been walking the streets a few days prior, when people were first starting to cough. Before he knew it was worse than just random colds or allergies and that he needed to try and quarantine himself, he'd been out and about just like his usual. That was before his roommate, Johnny, had succumbed to 'the plague'.

Now, a day after that cough had started and went downhill terrifyingly fast, he was outside again. He had started towards the hospital and turned all of one corner before he stopped and turned right back around. Truth be told, he didn't think he was even going to make it there with how shitty he felt. Secondly, the hospital was filled to the brim and there was no cure that he knew of. If there was no cure, he wasn't going to go die in an overcrowded room, hacking up phlegm, surrounded by the dying moans of a thousand other people. That just wasn't how he was going to go, even if he was somehow resurrected by the extremely painful and supremely shady Initiative machines. So he took one step at a time, each one slower than the last, back to the apartments. ]

[he wasn't necessarily putting it off, coming down to the hospital. denial that it was the virus everyone had been talking about, perhaps, but when had luck ever worked in his favor in that regard? he'd been tracking his fever and his symptoms the best he could (and he's sure Bones would be impressed, that he'd actually absorbed something after all that time) and it came to the point that he could no longer pretend it was anything but the epidemic.

someone had died, and he recognized now that he probably was lucky. he was fifty, now, and Leonard himself had used the words a patient your age. it was likely only the doctor's harassing him most of his adult life that resulted in his symptoms not being as bad as they could be. he was in incredibly good health.

but that didn't mean the symptoms weren't bad, they just weren't as bad as... some others. his fever was high, enough that he was sweating through his black shirt and edging on delirious, that his breathing was shallow, making him feel like he was constantly short of breath. when his coughing started it made him shake and he was incapacitated for a good ten minutes, but he hadn't brought up any blood yet.

and looking at some of the others here... bleeding from every orifice, collapsing in the doorways...

all at once his chest tightens and he inhales, tight and sharp, and the cough that grips him has him grabbing the wall, free hand on his chest as he battles for oxygen. maybe he'd spoken too soon.]

Edited 2013-06-11 18:18 (UTC)

1.

[It's June 8th. Nathan's been feeling under the weather the past few days, but it was pretty mild and thought it would pass in a few days on its own. No fuss, no problems. Instead, it's gotten steadily worse. He stumbles into the hospital, looking pale and sweaty from fever and coughing up a storm. His hand looks bloody. When he finally manages to get the coughing under control, he briefly (and painfully) clears his throat before speaking. His voice is hoarse, and he sounds legitimately concerned and even a little panicked.]

Ahem. Well...I think I might've just coughed up a decent chunk of my lungs.

2.

[It's June 13th now, and Nathan has been confined to a hospital bed for a few days already. He looks even worse than when he walked in, and is currently hooked up to some machines meant to help him breathe and not drown in his own mucus.

It's a pretty gross affair.

Taped to his chest is a paper sign with the words "DO NOT REMOVE THIS CORPSE" scrawled on it in black marker.]

Ugh, is it too much to ask for a fucking cure already?!

[unit 906 - closed to roommates]

[ the coughing had started days before, but she had thought her difficulty breathing may simply have been due to a difference in air that wasn't recycled, artificially pumped through a ship's ventilation systems day in and day out. it would be fine eventually, she just needed to get used to it.

but as the days continued on, she didn't. in fact, she only got worse. feeling weaker, keeping to her bed or a table in her room, struggling to find the energy to go much farther. maybe the air really isn't healthy here. humanity would have left for that very reason hundreds of years ago in her universe, maybe they had made a mistake by not doing the same in this one?

finally, she determines that she can't stay here forever. she plans to visit blue, if not for his insight on the matter, then maybe just his comfort. unfortunately, she only gets as far as the living room before crumpling on the floor in a coughing fit, rain squeaking frantically as he runs about her, worried as a little raccoon-squirrel can be. ]

[hospital - open to all]

[ the tubes and ivs were uncomfortable, but she understands that they're necessary. at least she was allowed to keep her cards, and one of the nurses had been kind enough to bring her a tray that she could set them up on. when she doesn't sleep or study the network, the best use of her time will be training, after all.

shuffling, dealing, reading, sometimes for hours at a time, she continues the task she knows so well that it's like a second nature, noting all of the more interesting things she may see. ]

[It's just a little cough, and a little bit of a fever. But by this date, Phoenix knew exactly what that meant and knew it would only be a matter of time before it got worse for him. And if he was sick, then the girl he was living with would definitely have been infected by him, too. So he has to go talk to her, let her know what happened and fill her in on what he planned to do -- which, was to go to the hospital so he can get treated.

So he knocks on Alice's bedroom door, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he coughs.]

Hey, Alice, can I talk to you a sec?

[Nic has the guy by the neck as he slams him into the alley wall, watching him choke in agony with an almost cheery expression. He's in a bad mood today and he'd really like to fix it, preferably by splattering this guy's guts onto the ground. But a job's a job and he's got priorities.

He glances behind them to check for Keith, wondering idly how they're going to work this. Keith doesn't speak (Nic's half-sure he's deaf himself) and he wants to know the skinny before they get their hands bloody.

The man sneers, opening him mouth to say something (probably useless) and Nic takes his head and slams it into the concrete again. He doesn't have time for posturing; he'd rather have the brain damage loosen some lips.]

Threaded | Flat

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