001 ❅ home sick?

[scowlish]

[At first, there is only a blur of sensation - dappled sunlight filtered through tree branches on soft grass, the feeling of a cat's warm belly under the hand, the scent of petrichor and fresh-baked bread, the vague taste of blueberries at the back of the throat, a soft female voice saying 'love you' in such a cheerful tone.

The tonal shift is abrupt and jarring, all that pleasantness drowned out by fear and loss and pain and aching loneliness. Just for a few moments.

And then a voice coalesces from the combination of sensations and emotions, and it sounds exhausted beyond reason, a little husky, breathy.]

This is very important. Please pay attention.

[A pause, and the feeling of fear is back, the sharpness of immediate anxiety overlaid on the background thrum of existential dread.]

Has anyone come down with a rash that wasn't there before? It'll be itchy and sore. Might be combined with vomiting and spells of fever.

If anyone is out there and has symptoms like that, isolate yourself immediately and please call me.

[A pause, and a little 'hmph' noise.]

I'm Onni Hotakainen.

Comments

cw: skin gore

[snaggletooth]

[ A little bit of his skin has sloughed off; that's probably bad. ]

And then what happens to them? It sounds like you know.

[sorte]

Are you a doctor? That would be wonderfully beneficial for our predicament.

[shatteredlenses]

[There is something ever so slightly familiar about this person's connection, but before Ignis can contemplate that familiarity too much, the person is speaking, though it's not their words that catch Ignis' attention so much as it is the fear.

The anxiety.

The dread.

He knows those feelings, not because he's felt them himself, but because he's heard others talk about them.

The Scourge.

Anyone caught outside of the Wall that protects Insomnia at night fears it. The unknown malady that turns humans into daemons with no hope of recovery unless they are lucky enough to be near to the Oracle's healing light. But those who are infected are many, and she is but one.

She is but one, and she is no longer walks upon Eos' shores.

It takes a moment for Ignis to push back the unease and sadness that thought brings him before he finally speaks.]

Greetings, Onni. My name is Ignis Scientia. Would I be right in assuming these are the symptoms of a plague that affects your home?

[offseers]

[ hm. ]

What makes you think this disease traveled with you? Nothing else seems to have come with us.

[vocalistyodels]

[Cooper isn't concerned it'll be an issue for him, but others... it's good to be informed.]

Sounds like the morning after with a chem junkie.

[BUT more seriously.]

Ain't gonna tell us how it ends?

[untilldeath]

[He's finding it easier to speak through this strange, surreal mode of communication. It is not perfected by far, but he's come to realize that it isn't quite the same reality as what he experiences when the veil isn't in place.

It hurts to speak, but he can still speak, with effort and a little bit of will. Through this strange murmuring of sound and feeling and illusion, images can speak for him — forming a voice and words and intent.

At first, it was all static. Maybe because his mental state felt like that. He doesn't feel much better right now. What he feels is cold, tired, and painfully hungry, all of which are easily felt. But that is a different thing entirely from the mental confusion and distraught he felt upon first waking, of actively bleeding out, and feeling the life in his body pour out of him while haunted by the memories of his last day.

He is no longer bleeding out. His injuries have been tended to, but he isn't exactly doing well yet either. He doesn't know what food is edible, where to find it to begin with, and what he has found for warmth is nothing more than a moth-eaten blanket that must have belonged to a child at some point. It will do until he manages to find something better, at least. The feelings that surround the person connecting through the murmur, though, are of someone determined, but incredibly struggling. Uncertainty pulls tight throughout.

News of a disease atop all the other problems they have right now is not the sort of thing he is thrilled to hear. It's his 'inner voice' that speaks for him right now, forming the question properly.]

How does it spread?