epidemiology | EVENT ★ (ABOUT) 28 DAYS LATER

EVENT ★ (ABOUT) 28 DAYS LATER

GENERAL HOSPITAL

All signs point to the hospital having something to do with the virus, though further investigation is required in order to find exactly what is going on. The hospital is average sized, with contemporary facilities and equipment, and is usually considerably cleaner than it is now. The constant flow of injuries coming in -- from riots, attacks, and accidents that are happening from just sheer panic -- have filled the hospital to the brim. Many staff are too over-exhausted to show up to work, and those that remain are nearly to the breaking point. Due to the overall confusion and chaos, now might be an opportune time to quietly sneak behind the scenes . . .

ON THE INSIDE

The waiting room is crowded and there aren't enough staff people to go around. If you snag yourself a lab coat or some scrubs, you should be able to just waltz right in if you look harried enough to go unnoticed. Or, if you're not the doctor-looking type, fake an injury and get one of your scrubs-wearing teammates to usher you inside.

Inside the hospital, it's just as busy -- gurneys line the halls, filled with moaning, scared patients. How many of them have the Bristol Virus? How many of them have just been injured in the unrest? It's impossible to tell, so be careful as you move through the halls. One of those grasping hands just might belong to someone who is very hungry.

Be careful while you look through the hospital -- the staff are busy and preoccupied, but they’re not blind. If you are caught somewhere you shouldn’t be, you’ll find yourself escorted from the premises, or worse -- thrown in jail.

PLACES TO SEARCH:

MATERNITY. There are no pregnant women to be found here, and for good reason: the maternity wing has been converted to a treatment center for known Bristol Virus carriers. Biohazard suits hang near the entrance, and the doors are sealed by makeshift plastic shielding to prevent the virus from spreading airborne. Patients are strapped to their beds for their safety as well as for the safety of the staff, and seem to be heavily sedated. But be careful -- you never know when it’ll wear off.

MORGUE. In the basement of the hospital is the morgue. Temperature controlled to 3º C (37º F), you may need a sweater if you choose to investigate here. The bodies kept in here have primarily died of natural causes -- that is, if you count being chewed on by cannibals as natural. The few bodies that are known to be infected by the Bristol virus are marked as such: the morgue drawers containing their remains have been sealed by biohazard tape.

NURSE’S STATION. The most dangerous place to investigate, but perhaps the most lucrative. The nurse’s station is located in the center of the inpatient ward and is in the middle of all hospital activity. It will be very easy to get caught if you’re looking here. However -- this is where most paperwork is kept, as well as computers connected to the hospital intranet, where patient records can be found.

OFFICES. Doctors’ offices are an obvious choice to look for paperwork clues, but be cautious and have an excuse ready: you never know when someone will come in.

TOXICOLOGY. Because most of the patients being treated right now are in the hospital for injuries, toxicology is not as busy as one might expect during a viral epidemic. The toxicology department is filled with test tubes, beakers, and the like. This is one of the more dangerous areas to investigate, as you never know when a lab tech or doctor may walk in and catch you snooping.

Other hospital areas include: cafeteria, doctors’ mess, inpatient ward, pharmacy, surgery, supply warehouse (entrance outside), etc. If you're not the investigative type, it might be a good idea to cause a scene and distract the staff from your teammates' snooping.

While you're here, it might be a good idea to gather fluid samples from patients known to be infected. Their sedated state will make it easy (until, of course, the sedatives wear off -- hopefully not while you're in the middle of collecting a sample!) and not only will it help the efforts in finding a vaccine, it may also help your fellow recruits find a cure. Especially now that some of your number are starting to feel the effects of the virus themselves.

FINDING CLUES

This post, we will be holding an RNG to decide who receives clues. We have a maximum of five clues to go around, one per hospital area, so you'll have better chances if you team up! Please see this comment to sign up. We will be closing clue sign-ups after 48 hours, after which we will notify the RNG winners of their results. Those who do not hear back may assume they have not found anything of interest.

OOC NOTES

Because this log is being posted late in the month, threads are eligible for February or March AC, but not both. Beginning this month, we are also allowing AC threads to be eligible for AC Bonus Bank.

Please remember that participation in the HMD is mandatory to pass AC this month! Please fill out your HMD comment by 28 February 23:59 UTC.

REMINDER: activity and hiatus changes go into effect beginning this AC. Please review the changes thoroughly!

Questions about Woodhurst can be submitted to this thread. Questions about the game in general should be directed to the FAQ. You may submit mission ideas or player plots at any time, and don't forget the Bounty Board!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I ; what made you want to become a policeman-officer?

[ if anyone were to ask Stiles, he'd tell them it's the perfect plan. neat, efficient, gives him an excellent reason to be poking around in the hospital... aside from the slight inconvenience of how being found out likely means immediate arrest! but other than that, the perfect plan.

the uniform wasn't too hard to sneak out of the freshly-returned laundry in the precinct; the badge was slightly more difficult, but he managed. copying a name plate for himself... right, so it did mean having to break into two offices and some more illegal things, but hey, everything for a good cause, right? and as a result, the name plate now proudly declares him to be Cadet Stilinski, and the police uniform he's wearing looks like it was actually tailored for him.

( A. ) at some point, a curious member of the hospital staff approaches him as he stands there on the hallway, enquiring whether he's patrolling this particular hallway for a reason, and if not, shouldn't he maybe go check the ER as there seem to be more and more incidents happening with the patients there today. her tone is rather sharp, and as much as Stiles wants to respond with something else... in the end, he simply nods. ] Of course, ma'am, we're all here to help the hospital function in these tough times.

[ it's a good thing she can't see him making a face at himself for.... whatever that was as he walks away. if no one runs into him during the walk to the ER, he eventually makes his way there and clears his throat. ] So... there was some kind of an incident here?

( B. ) later on, he'll be patrolling the hospital, on the lookout for any members of the Audentes who might be needing to be bailed out of trouble. as soon as he spots a familiar face being called out or interrogated by hospital staff or other police officers, he'll approach, hoping that mimicking the way he's heard his dad talk pays off here. ]

It's okay, I'll take it from here. [ maybe..... hopefully. ]

II ; it's not murder, it's ketchup

[ during the (relatively) quieter hours of the evening-turning-into-night, Stiles makes his way to the laboratory. they've been running fake blood drives on the campus (Peter's idea, that one, a clean and easy way to collect blood samples from the general populace), and though these days the people actually attending the lessons are few and far between... at least some samples are better than none.

and really — maybe the idea of getting his own blood tested wouldn't be such a bad one, either.

when there's a clattering sound, he pauses, shoulders tensing as he reaches for the taser in his pocket. ]

... Anyone there? [ maybe it's one of the Audentes members working here... maybe someone else who's come to give a sample of their blood. at least he hopes it's one or the other instead a whole new third option. ] You know, middle of the night isn't the best time to poke around in the labs.

[ but wait... why are you there then, Stiles?? ]

III ; you're a doctor, deal with it! ; wildcard

[ hit me up with just about anything you've got in mind!! if these prompts don't suit your tastes, feel free to wildcard it up, or hmu over at celen and i'll whip up a closed starter! c: ]

Edited 2017-02-27 16:12 (UTC)

[ So here's the deal. Lucina is a police officer, at least on paper. She's, in some ways, much more fit to be here than rest of the Audentes who are parading around as one. But she's still very much working undercover, which means she's not native.

She's done this before, long ago. But that didn't require an elaborate lie, not really. ]

Well, er— [ She's flagged down by a hospital nurse, mentioning how there had been a case another detective had been investigating ( likely a coverstory for another team member ). Unfortunately, Lucina has no idea what the nurse is saying ( damn this newfangled terms — ). Which means there's a long stretch of silence, the "police officer"s eyes wandering around the hallway before. ] Stiles!

[ In a police uniform, too, perfect. The nurse turns around on cue, and Lucina quickly shoots her best "please help me" glance. ]

Edited (whoops this took a life of its own) 2017-03-05 01:52 (UTC)

[ in any other circumstances, it'd probably be hilarious, just how bad some of the members of the team are at this whole undercover thing. granted, at least Lucina isn't doing a horrible job of it... though watching her parse through the nurse's quick speech gives Stiles a faint flash to earlier on in the mission, watching Olivia try to get a car while barely even knowing what a car is.

ah, you people from medival-like worlds...

he makes a show of turning as she calls to him, his expression brightening when he sees her, striding to her quickly. ]

Officer! It's great to see you, Detective Skywalker was looking for you earlier. He said it was urgent, we should go find him immediately.

[ better that than to stay here and try to answer questions to which, if he heard correctly, he has no answers to, either... whatever case the nurse means isn't one he's heard anyone use as a cover, earlier, and if it turns out to be a real case... they can't really fudge information about it. ]

Sorry, ma'am, please excuse us. [ he nods politely at the nurse without leaving any room to say anything as he's again turning and starting to walk away, hoping that Lucina follows him. ]

[ It's not easy, okay, to pretend that she's been living in a completely different world her entire life. Besides, that's what the rest of her team is here for, right? To help each other out when they need it.

... Though really, it's a little embarrassing she has to get help for this, ah... ]

Detective Skywalker? Oh, of course. [ She turns to the nurse, trying not to look too relieved at the idea of escaping what was likely a disastrous conversation. ] I will find a different member of the team to assist you, ma'am. [ Taking a page out of Stiles' book, she nods before following him, turning a corner — ]

Thank you. [ Her voice is low enough so that no one else can hear it ( least of all the nurse they've abandoned ), but her expression also speaks for herself. ] I don't know what I could have done if you hadn't shown up.

[ he can't help but sympathize with her — this has to be hard, for someone who isn't exactly used to having to come up with excuses on the spot, who isn't comfortable in the kind of world they're in right now...

he grins at her though, reassuring. ]

Hey, you would've been fine. [ probably. maybe. possibly. ] Pretending to hear something important on the police radio is a good idea... or just, you know, apologize and say all the information's classified but you'll let them know first chance when you can.

[ it's amazing what the words it's classified can do, really... ]

Oh! [ Both excellent tips, and not something she had ... needed ... up until this point ( usually, telling them that's "out of her jurisdiction" worked, with the added bonus that it was true ). There's almost no reason for her to be snooping around the hospital unless she had been working on the same case the nurse was describing. ] I'll be sure to remember that for the next time — thank you, again.

[ Because regardless of what Stiles believes she would have been Screwed. But with that said, there are more pressing matters to attend to — ] I wasn't ... aware you were also posing as the police force during the mission. [ Said significantly quieter, when they're walking nearly side-by-side with each other. Hopefully, it looks like two regular cops having regular, cop conversations. ]

Hey, no problem!

[ he grins at her, glad to be able to help her at least in some way... it's nice to feel useful, especially in a situation where there's very little to do, really.

the grin morphs into a wince, though, as he glances around to make sure no one hears his response. ] ... well, that'd be because I'm not. I'm a criminology student, but I've been working with Anakin, you know, getting practical experience, my prof's all for that. But I really needed to get around the hospital without anyone asking too many questions, and no one at the precinct really knows what I've been doing there, so.

[ so even if he runs into their Woodhurst native colleagues, they'll just think they've seen him around at the station, and leave it at that.

... hopefully. ]

Oh— oh! [ Well. That does explain a lot. Lucina's eyes widen until they're immediately looking at the ground. ] Yes, of course.

I apologize, I should have known. [ Because she should have, with how much she's been at the station; she's not... saddened, more embarrassed than anything. Enough to let the silence settle from her end, unsure of what else to say.

At least until — ] I could assist you here, if you'd like the company. It may help to move around here in numbers.

Oh my god, no, seriously, it's fine. I haven't been exactly advertising what I've been doing there, you know, just so this'd be possible.

[ he gives her a slight smile — it's... sweet, really, that she's so concerned about this, enough to apologize and all even when it's really, really not necessary at all. ]

Yeah, that'd be cool. Besides — it's nice. I mean, we haven't really... there hasn't been a lot of time to, you know, talk. Chat. [ vague, somewhat awkward gesturing goes here; they're not really friends, but he still feels like she's someone he doesn't mind catching up with. hearing how she's been doing. all that. ]

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heritors - 2017-04-02 06:41 (UTC) - Expand

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figureitout - 2017-04-08 14:45 (UTC) - Expand

[The good news—the initial clatter is a familiar member of Audentes ducking hastily in through the far door of the lab. The bad news—he's maybe not as alone as he'd like to be.

Coming around the labs at night means breaking curfew and risking a run-in with the sicker, hungrier parts of the population, and at least one of those run-ins had gone a little too far off book. He's bleeding down his neck and into his shirt from a close encounter with a broken-bottle-turned-makeshift-weapon, pinning something red under his arm, and holding his free hand up to Stiles as if in surrender. Pitched low, soas not to carry any more than it needs to—]

Not so loud, sparky, you'll bring the whole hoard in on us.

[Haven't you ever seen a horror flick? He figured you for more genre savvy than that.

As if to punctuate this warning, there's another slamming of doors down the hall. Right on cue. As if Stiles really needs to encouragement, Jason brings his raised hand to his lips to signal for quiet for a second until it passes. And in the dead of night, every other sound carries loud and clear. The footsteps on the other side of the door are a little shambly. Unsteady. But heavy. Several sets, from the sound of it. They get closer until they reach the door—and then slowly start to fade away in the opposite direction. (For now.)]

[ look — usually, he'd be unwilling to even speak. at city hall, he'd told Asher the same thing, to be quiet because talking in a loud voice is the surefire way to get killed. the thing is... the labs have never really been that dangerous. it's a miscalculation brought on by the mistaken sense of surety that the infected are kept in the maternity ward, that the labs have never had anyone else around than those who work there. but as it is... one miscalculation is all it takes.

fortunately, this is not a horror movie, and despite everything, the people outside pass along the hallway until the echo of their footsteps is nothing but a whisper. that's as long as Stiles waits — as soon as he deems it safe, he makes a beeline for Jason. ]

What the hell happened?

[ close like this, his voice is barely there, low and quiet but still enough for Jason to hear as he gestures to the wound, already scanning the tables for disinfectant, something to place on the wound to stop the bleeding. ]

[We all make mistakes. Case in point.]

Zigged when I should've zagged.

[As the immediate danger seems to shift away, he finds a lab stool to lean on and sets something down on the table—looks a lot like a red motorcycle helmet, sort of, but with opaque eyes instead of a visor. Weird. He'd taken to keeping it around as a precaution while he's working the street, given the biohazards at work. But the swing of the shrapnel had caught him just beneath the edge of it, and he'd wrenched it off to keep himself from aggravating the wound any more than he had to.

It's bleeding a lot, even if it's probably not deep enough to be immediately life threatening. Hard to tell, since he can't really see it, and he's got his free hand clamped down against it to stem the bleeding.

Close up, he smells like cigarette smoke and looks like hell. (Pale, though surely the bleeding has something to do with that, right? Tired, but everyone's been stretched thin lately.) With a frankly obnoxious amount of deliberately inappropriate enthusiasm—]

Any closer of a shave and I'd be playing touch tag with the angels.

[(Y'know. Again.)]

Clearly.

[ short, said through his teeth. he's no stranger to making light of serious situations, but Jason is taking it to a whole another level. a glance at the red helmet, a voice at the back of his mind whispering Gotham, but no, no. he has no time for that now, not with Jason's hand stained just as red, even more so, or perhaps it's just the paleness of his skin that makes the blood stand out so much more.

(Stiles feels queasy at the sight, but he can't — he can't. there's no time.) ]

Alright, Snow White, let's thank whatever deity was watching over you today and get you patched up.

[ taking care to be quiet, he opens one of the cupboards, takes out bandages, wipes and disinfectant. just as quietly, he walks back to Jason, nodding his head towards the hand placed on his neck. ] Okay, let's see how bad it is. Oh, and if I faint, you're on your own, got it?

[Ah, what a hero. Well, what else is new, he's been going solo for a while, now. He continues, sharpish, and more seriously.]

Deep breaths, Prince Charming. I think I've earned the monopoly on swooning, tonight. Stealing the limelight for yourself's just greedy.

[It's fine, he's fine. He'll have to be, passing out is not a luxury either of them have, so lets nip that in the bud. He doesn't pull the pressure off the wound just yet, looking back up as Stiles comes back with his haul. Eyes narrow, mouth set in a thin line. Tersely—]

Gloves?

[This is a lab, surely the public panic over infection hasn't cleared the place out of precautions already. (Surely. Hopefully. Even his luck can't be that bad. He's only sitting on suspicions, but times like these, suspicions are more than enough to take seriously. Blood's a biohazard, and he's bleeding. He can spare a few more seconds of leaking to cover some bases.)

Except the supplies seem...remarkably sparse, in this regard.]

[ hey, it's not his fault he still gets somewhat queasy at the sight of blood... he'll deal, though, because he has to — making sure Jason is alright is far more important. ]

Fine, but if you faint, I'm not kissing you awake.

[ a hollow joke to lighten the mood, to balance out the way it is now Jason whose tone is sharp, on an edge. Stiles takes the suggestion, pauses to look around for a pair he could use, pulls open some of the drawers, groaning in frustration when there's absolutely nothing useful in them.

after some seconds of deliberation, he shakes his head. ]

We don't have time. Don't worry, man, it'll be fine.

[ there is no way he can guarantee that, the reassurance empty as it is, but he's willing to take the risk — Jason is looking even paler, now, and if they wait for much longer... ]

Move your hand.

I'd be offended, but I don't think I can blame you. Never know who might be catching.

[If you catch his drift. If you don't, he'll spell it out harder next time. Of course, getting all bloody is only slightly less dangerous than swapping spit if he's right. So he looks, briefly, like he's aggravated by the way Stiles persists when he comes up short on the matter of precautions. What kind of lab doesn't have gloves lying around in an epidemic.

They don't have time for this. He closes his eyes and clamps down on his mounting aggravation and reassesses. Get your breathing slow, get your heart rate down. His pulse feels far too fast, anyway. Head's too light. Going into shock would really put a damper on his day. (But he's been marking the way he's never not hungry anymore. The way it lines up fine with the progression of symptoms on the dossier. So how much of a risk does he expect Stiles to take for his neck? That's a funny one.)

He pries his fingers off the wound, but only to hold the hand up between them in a way that says "hold up a minute." Here's what they're gonna do.]

You're gonna back the hell up and walk me through what it looks like from there. If I can't handle it, then we'll consider other options.

[Because, y'know, he's been handling it so well so far.]

[ oh, he catches the drift, all too well. he knows the risk, recalls the word biohazard, looks at the blood that drips down Jason's neck, despite his hand trying to stall the bleeding. ]

Look — I don't care.

[ it's a fight, to keep his eyes on Jason, even with the red-stained hand held up between them, the wound now free to spill all that blood, soaking into Jason's clothes — a fight he wins, despite the way his stomach roils, the way he wants nothing but to look away. but this... this is more important. he has to keep it together. ]

Listen to what you're saying! "If you can't handle it"? Dude, you're not handling any of this! We need to disinfect that wound and close it, and fast. Do you want to go into shock? I told you, I don't care. I don't know about you, but you're my friend, and I'm going to make sure you get out of here alive. Don't make me sedate you.

[ that should make it all too clear he knows full well what he's dealing with here... and still willing to go through with it. hastily, he grabs the bottle of disinfectant, gauze — they need to keep the pressure.

out in the hallway, there's the echo of footsteps, as sudden as it is unwelcome; unsteady, stumbling. Stiles looks at the door, then at Jason, eyes wide. they don't have the time. ]

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gutpunching - 2017-04-01 05:34 (UTC) - Expand

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figureitout - 2017-04-06 18:58 (UTC) - Expand

[Teleporting into the lab was one of his better ideas, or so Sans thought right up until hearing Stiles' voice. If he could find the data already being collected, the shape of his effort might become more clear. Human biochemistry was decidedly not his area, but Sans didn't really attempt to assist anyway. A status update, that's all he was interest in. An ETD.

So much for that.]

Easy, pal. [Sans grins, holding up his hands in a show of almost comically immediate surrender. His cloaking device was active, covering his skeletal frame with a short, squat human.] Got lost on my way to the bathroom, right?

[ now, there's something to be said for non-threatening appearances, and Sans' definitely is one of those — which might serve him well with someone less prone to paranoia than Stiles.

as it is, Stiles squints at him, because there's something that does. not. add. up. ]

Rrriiiiight. So you got lost and somehow managed to walk through two hallways, four doors, all totally in the opposite direction to the closest bathroom. Absolutely not suspicious at all.

[ because the next one here is the one in the employee area, which is where he just came from... sure, man, sure.

(though honestly?? if Sans being here is suspicious, isn't you being here suspicious too, Stiles, js...) ]

I've got no head for direction. [Sans brushes off, as if that explained away both his presence and why he wasn't already leaving.] But you sure do, huh? Know-how like that, I bet you work here.

[Sans drums his fingers on the counter top, scanning it at the corner of his socket, trying to memorize as many sample labels as he can. His time here was looking awfully limited. Still, when he turns his attention fully back to Stiles, it's with a smile.]

What's your job around here?

Uh, actually... no, I don't. Work here, I mean.

[ which probably only sounds more suspicious... he scratches the back of his neck, glancing over his shoulder to where the doors to the employee rooms are. ]

I was here visiting a friend, bringing in some samples. [ it's the truth, too — he's only leaving out the part about how the samples were from a fake blood drive, collected specifically to aid with the search for a cure. ]

[Though it's not readily apparent he was ever tense in the first place, Sans relaxes at the confession. Good. So they were in the same boat. Two people in a place they definitely weren't supposed to be.

The kid just had a better excuse.]

Heh, not to B-negative or anything, but I didn't realize the hospital just let anybody into these back rooms. [Of course, he's here, though that fact goes uncommented on.] Who's your friend?

[ uh excuse you he's not a kid!! god, why does everyone keep flagging him as one smh

he flashes a quick grin at the pun (really, he can't not), before shrugging lightly. ] Yeah, well, pays off to know the staff, I guess. [ he pauses before answering — the realization comes that he... has no idea what Sonia's pretend surname is, and so he flounders for two seconds before answering, ]

Sonia. Long, blonde hair, really pretty. [ another pause. ] Why'd you wanna know?

[You're all kids to him, okay.]

Sonia? Hey, whaddya know, looks like we're already friends once removed, buddy. [He steps forward, hand outstretched. Calling Sonia a friend was a bit of a stretch, but Sans decides in that moment that collaboration was the best chance he had at not getting thrown out on his bony ass.

The kid grinned at his terrible joke and that was good enough for him. The good ones always laughed.]

Name's Sans. It's short for ALASTAIR.

[ well, that.... makes it somewhat better. maybe. ]

We are? [ that, in and of itself, is not only suspicious but ringing some bells in his head — not necessarily in alarm, but rather in realization. Sonia wasn't one who interacted much with the locals, not while shut here, not while she was... well.

he reaches for Sans' hand and shakes it with a slight smile. ]

Sans, huh? A good nickname, even if your real name's a bit of a drag. [ it's both a dig at the way ALASTAIR keeps sending them on missions that end up feeling impossible, as well as an inside joke about his own name — truthfully, he has absolutely no leg to stand on when commenting on someone else's name, not even half a leg. ]

Stiles. Good to meet you, man. [ he glances around quickly before continuing, ] So... I mean, if you walked all this way just to find the restroom, you might as well use the one in the employee's room. You know, save you the trouble of walking all the way back. [ and giving him the chance to poke around here if he wants to... ]

stiles stilinski ◐ ota

1B, sorta

omg lucina what a cute

she tried

pats her head

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okay, how about II.

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II! how could i resist

omg what a good

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