epidemiology | ( SEMI-CLOSED. )

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( SEMI-CLOSED. )

CHARACTERS: Daenerys and friends! Also """friends""".
DATE: End of February into the third week of March.
WARNINGS: Gore, cannibalism, fire, death.
SUMMARY: Bounties, close calls, bird dragons, and encroaching madness.

[ Prompts in the comments! Poke me via PM and I'll write you something. ]

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[ When Dany had learned that the Astapori were tipping over food wagons and killing her soldiers, she had insisted upon delivering the aid herself. With her had come her Unsullied, Ser Barristan, and her Dothraki, and the distribution had gone without incident.

The retrieval of a cat, however beloved, is unworthy of a queen's assistance, but the same might be said of much and more that she has done across worlds. She is half sick of hiding behind the walls of the apartment she shares with Ahad and Loki. In Meereen she had ruled behind such walls, but here she is only awaiting a fate whilst Audentes quarrels amongst itself. The scarf she dons over her nose and mouth is for Anakin's sake (to begin), the bird she bears upon her shoulder for her own.

It is not a pet she seeks, but the truth of what is being done to the people below the streets.

The stink of the sewers sends Dany's belly to roiling even with the cover of her half mask, and it is all she can do not to retch. Once I won Meereen with sewer rats, she tells herself as they keep near the walls, avoiding the vile river that passes through the center of this passageway. If my people did not flinch from the stench, I must do the same.

Drogon abandons her shoulder to fly ahead of them, parallel to the muck and banking right down another tunnel. She lowers her scarf to speak. ]

Drogon flies like that when he is hunting, [ she tells her companion, trying to ignore the air's taste. If the water were not ripe enough, they have also passed the decayed limbs of some poor soul, scattered over many paces. ] It may be that he has found a rat.

Edited 2017-03-04 00:34 (UTC)

[ With the police stretched thin and the looting often enough to make restocking the grocery shelves a useless endeavor, Woodhurst shambles its way into lawlessness.

And the infected, their numbers flourishing, grow bolder.

It is mid-day, and for now, Dany finds herself buried beneath the weight of her lion pelt, cutting away chunks of half-cooked meat on a plate. Loki is oft the one of their three who cooks for them, and her own, fledgling skills at the stove leave much to be desired. I am too impatient, that's all, she tells herself, chewing a mouthful of red, I am the blood of the dragon, and I will learn.

It is not that she has begun to crave the taste. She is hungry, though. So hungry that nothing less than the horrifying, ear-piercing scream of a man in pain that is enough to startle her from her meal. Drogon hisses in answer from his resting place atop the windowsill, and then she is setting her plate aside and running to the window. There, struggling on the ground in the street, is an old man--and settling greedily atop him is a much younger one.

STOP, the man wails. SOMEONE HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME! HELP! The cries are as pitiful as they are horrific, and with no one else home, Dany finds herself plucking up the knife she had used. Her heart giving a lurch, she flees out the door and down the building stairs with Drogon the false bird fluttering close behind her. If it must be that she is the first to reach the man, then so be it. She will summon more aid as needed. ]

[ Once, on the morning of her wedding to Hizdahr, Missandei had chided her with a seriousness beyond her years. Your Grace needs more than wine to break her fast. You are such a tiny thing.

Dany had laughed, but now she wonders what the girl would say. For days now, their supply of food has dwindled significantly. It does not come all at once, for even a few bites are enough to stuff her stomach for one sitting; now, though, she returns again the next hour, and the next, and then the half hour.

But food grows scarcer on the shelves, and soon it will be impractical to devour as much as she does. She tries to ration, as she and Viserys had done when she was a little girl relying upon her beggar brother, and in the end she only eats twice as much. When Ahad had explained the properties of his blood, she had dismissed the idea. Today even the freezer is empty, and if it is as he says, perhaps a small amount may settle her stomach. ]

Tell me again of its effects, [ she invites. They are seated on the couch for comfort, Dany bundled into the warmth of a nineties sweater and her lion pelt as she gazes at him. Their kitchen is too sterile for sipping at blood. ]

Edited 2017-03-05 22:57 (UTC)

[ Even knowing he'd been bitten and infected, Shiro had thought it was something that he could control. In a way, he felt like knowing he'd already been infected made things easier. He didn't have anything to lose while dealing with other infected townspeople. As for the long term consequences, Shiro wasn't about to start considering them. The mission had to come first.

But his head is pounding. His stomach feels hollow; he feels starved. At times, it's so much that he can't concentrate. He has to dip away from the bustle of the hospital. Shiro's pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up as he pushes through one door, then another.

Maybe the morgue was a smart place to have gone. Shiro was seeking quiet, but he has a split second to consider that maybe there might be something here to look for.

But Shiro stops short the minute he crosses the threshold. He's unreasonably irritated to find the morgue occupied by someone living. ]

Do you work here?

[ It's more abrupt than Shiro would typically lead with. He feels vaguely bad, but he can't...there's no curbing his frustration. He's never felt less in control of that emotion than he is now. ]

[ The footsteps come swift and purposeful, almost aggressive in their sound as they beat upon the floor. It is warning enough to alert Dany to the sound, but when he bursts into the room, his face half hooded, her hand is still upon the knife she had reached for, lying on a sterile tray.

He is no doctor, she can see. All the same, she does not recognize him, and a cursory look does not reveal any Magitek. What she does recognize is his anger.

Her false glasses lie some feet away from the tray, her hair tinted a darker color than its silver. It is nothing that will remain in her hair with a few washes. Her own hoodie lies discarded on the floor, dropped in her haste as soon as she'd shed it to reach for a weapon. Even a small blade is better than none. Her shoulders are squared, her chin lifted, but she is prepared to put the wheeled table with the tray between them, if she must. Somehow, even cornered, she is regal. ]

I am no doctor.

[ The calmness of her voice belies the way her heart drums away in her breast. It is not his size that makes her wary, though he has the look of a warrior. It is the way he demands it of her, the way he storms in like a charging bull. ]

Examine the room, if that is your desire. [ Her breathing is carefully even, but the scalpel is held neatly in her hand. ] We have no quarrel with one another.

[ He can take her, even with the scalpel. Shiro makes that inference even though the fog of anger in his head. Sizing up any given threat is automatic; Shiro had more than learned the necessity of that approach in the arena. He stutters forward a step, then forcibly stops himself and takes a deep breath. ]

I didn't think anyone was going to be here.

[ There's no walking back the force behind his initial request. He can try, but right now diplomacy requires too much finesse for him. He presses his bare left hand to the exam table and hopes that the cool metal would ground him. ]

You should go. Please.

[ He's struggling with himself. The scalpel outrages him. It hooks into the deep-seated guilt over what he is now; he's a threat and a monster and this woman could see it at a glance. Shiro could rationalize it better under any other circumstances, but right now he just can't seem to let it go. ]

[ The food disappearing wasn't the only sign that something wasn't right, and not even the most obvious to Ahad. Dany felt wrong, and there was only one disease spreading among the people here. The spread of the disease was discomforting enough, but Dany being effected made it worse. At a loss for ways to contain her hunger without harming her, he had eventually suggested something he had not intended to share with mortals again.

Whether it calmed her or left her with a greater taste for god's flesh was yet to be seen. The former seemed more likely, but there was always the possibility of the later. ]

Euphoric, without being addictive. If nothing else, it should make you forget your hunger for a time.

[ She wishes to go, to flee, but the step he took toward her was menacing, however halted. Something fights at him, something he can scarce control, and with ice in her breast, it dawns on her.

He is infected. He may attack me, if I let him.

He may have stopped himself, but he is between her and her way out. That, more than the possibility of being lunged at as she tries to run, troubles her. Drogon at least had been simple: angry, and wounded, and vengeful. This is a man, not a dragon, and she cannot whip him out of his frenzy. ]

Then leave me.

[ The command is still spoken calmly, but it is firm. Her heart has quickened: Anakin is in another wing of the hospital now, and by now the rest of her team will be evacuating toxicology. She had given the signal over the PA system. If she sent them a message, would they come to her side quickly enough? She should put down the scalpel; perhaps it is the weapon that enrages him.

But if she does that, then she will truly be defenseless. Unconsciously, her hand tightens around the handle. ]

Go and stand in the opposite corner, so that I might find my way to the door.

[ So that she knows he will let her go. ]

[ He thinks of Allura as she speaks. Shiro drops his head, exhaling a bitter laugh. The passing similarity isn't making this any easier for him. It raises the stakes. He still remembers the moment when the infected reporter had lunged at Rhys. It had been so sudden, and his face had been so shockingly contorted in anger. Shiro's a breath away from that. He knows it. ]

No.

[ It's not an unreasonable request. Even as he bristles against it, he understands that she's right to order him that way. But he's afraid to lift his hand. He's afraid that the slightest attempt at movement, even to get out of her path, is going to unmoor him. ]

You have to run.

[ Is there a way to handle this that doesn't end poorly? Shiro doesn't want her to put that scalpel in his neck, but he wants to disarm her even less. The urge to grab her and shake her is more present than the gnawing hunger in his gut, but it's not a safe urge regardles. ]

[ And how can I do that? she wants to demand it of him. How can I outrun you, when you will only seize me? He will not let her go willingly, yet he is trying to spare her, she can tell. Even beneath her wariness, she can pity him for his struggle. But she does not trust him to restrain his rage, no more than he trusts himself.

Once she fell backward over a corpse, and seized the whip it had once carried. Today she must make another such decision, and so slowly, daringly, she lowers the scalpel. It makes minimal clatter as it touches the tray.

Then, like lightning, she seizes the tray itself with fine-boned fingers, and flees out from behind the table, bracing it like a shield. Scalpels, scissors, and other tools foreign to her fall to the floor in all directions, scattering. She must get free of the morgue, and then she can summon people to peel him away from her, if he pursues. ]

Edited 2017-03-06 01:49 (UTC)

[ The fourth week nears its end, and Dany ceases to gaze at herself in the looking-glass.

She is paler than before, and now utterly without color. Her violet eyes are ringed in gray, and when Ahad and Loki speak, she is oft left to gaze at them in silence, leaning. She is weary, too, and plagued by rage. Though she does not give voice to what troubles her, she knows that Ahad at least can sense it. She is hungry, and no longer for legumes or grains.

She has come to crave them almost as much as she loves them, and the knowledge when the apartment is empty one afternoon makes her sob. But everything upon her face was dry, as she knew it must be. The blood of the dragon does not weep, and the day turns to night, as ever.

Loki cooks for them still, puttering about the kitchen as though he were its king. Perhaps he is. Dany finds herself admiring the grace of his limbs and his movements on this day, but before too long, she hears whispers of something else. There is another admirer within her, and it does not care for form. She gazes at the lemon tree in her ALASTAIR ring until it passes.

By the time he places a raw meat patty on a bun, though, she finds herself rising in a rare haze of affection. In the past her kitchens have cooked her meals, and before then, her handmaids had brought her her food. It is good of him to feed me, she thinks, coming up behind him. Her arms slide about his waist, warm and certain, and she rises on tiptoe to kiss his shoulder. ]

It smells splendid, [ she sighs. This pleasantness will be fleeting, and within minutes her sickness shall turn her against him again, finding fault with all that he does. But for a moment, she feels free. ]

Edited 2017-03-06 07:41 (UTC)

[ For a split second, Shiro thinks it will work. Maybe if they do this carefully, she can get past him. He's still clinging so hard the idea that he's in control of himself, or in control enough that he can be still while she flees. (Even if it grates on him that she has to flee from him in the first place.) He keeps his palm on the table. He tries to breathe.

And something in him snaps. The clattering medical instruments or the tray hefted high tweaked some buried instinct. The movement of his hand is jerky as he both reaches for her and tries to stop himself from reaching. He makes contact regardless. Cold metal fingers scrape across the tray and bend the edges in as he grips it. He wants to apologize even as he tears it from her hands. He's furious and ashamed of his fury. He grabs her upper arm and shakes her, praying it's enough to sate the fury in him. He's too close to her. They're in dangerous territory. ]

[ The metal is crumpled like a piece of paper between hard, black fingers, and ripped from her grasp.

She does not even hear herself make a sound when he seizes her, and then she is being shaken effortlessly, like some monster with a toy. For an instant, she remembers looking into Drogon's eyes, burning red and full of fury. ]

Stop it, [ she cries, her own anger building and surpassing her fear. Once, the Titan of Braavos had pulled her off her silver to kill her. Once, Ser Barristan had held her back, so that she could not run to Drogon. I am the blood of the dragon. Then, something unfurls in her, and there is fury. ] That is enough!

[ The walls ring with the sound, and her free hand flies to his face, pressing fast to his cheek--as though they were lovers, not temporary adversaries. She can feel the warmth of his breathing on her skin, but she does not yield. ]

[ The shouting isn't what stops him. The clutch of her hand is what does it. Shiro's sure of that. He'd been expecting a fist and hadn't tried to pull away from the blow but Daenerys cups his cheek instead. Shiro abruptly exhales. The anger seeps out of him though he doesn't let her go. ]

I'm sorry.

[ It's the first thing he says. There's no explanation. He knows she's figured out what he is and what's happened to him. He leans into her as his fingers flex on her arm. ]

You probably should have kept the scalpel.

[ A scalpel. Some distant part of her notes the foreign word. ]

I am a queen, [ she tells him, her breath free from control and grown shallow from their struggle. The response is almost surreal. In her unpracticed hand, such a small blade might have missed his throat, and been used against her instead in his rage. ] Other weapons are a wiser choice.

[ It is an honest admission, for she has seen, now, that he is not a citizen of Woodhurst. With that false hand, he is one of Audentes' own; elsewise, there are other forces here.

And he is too close. He settles into her touch like parched earth welcomes water. The air between them is one of tentative peace, too fragile to release her yet. Keep speaking, she tells herself. It may be that he can be made to see reason. She lifts her chin, her violet gaze even, her nostrils still flared. ]

Why did you come? [ A demand of the man who has put her at risk, though her touch is still surprisingly tender. ] Tell me that.

[ That shall tell her who he's with. ]

[ She's not afraid. That reminds him of Allura more than the admission of queenship. Shiro is afraid of what he can do to her. If he weren't holding so tightly to her arms, he knows his own hands would be shaking. ]

I was trying to help.

[ It wouldn't have mattered for him. He was already infected. There was nothing in this hospital that could hurt him. And he'd so stupidly assumed he'd have enough control to keep from getting into this position. ]

You shouldn't have been down here.

[ Not that she could have helped it. She was sneaking in the same as Shiro had done. She couldn't have known that she was intruding and thwarting his need for solitude. ]

[ Would that you had come to help a week ago. They are useless sentiments now, all of them. He is still too close, besides, as though afraid that if he releases her, he will lash out at her again. ]

You would offer me counsel after the attack is done. Tell me, was I meant to heed some premonition that you would come?

[ But her other hand--the one bearing her network ring, and her ALASTAIR-granted ring of what passes for her home--will reach up to cup his face fully in her grasp, given the necessary inches. His reasons were foolish and posed a grave risk to anyone uninfected, but there is something simplistic and honest about them all the same. An honest face. He is a honest man, and this sickness would make a monster of him. ]

We are beyond lessons now, [ she tells him, silently praying that the rest should hurry. ] Names, though ... I would have your name.

[ He must be soothed, then made to release her. The dossier had claimed that to run would be better, and that even touch brought with it the risk of death, but what alternatives had been left her? ]

Edited (ffff SORRY this sounded better) 2017-03-06 08:51 (UTC)

[ Time is her enemy. As she grows hungrier, that is the only certainty that Dany knows.

And so she has made the decision to inform herself of her options, to start. In all of Audentes, there are none that she trusts to speak the truth to her half so well as Sieglinde. The girl is young, but in matters of science, magic, and medicine, she speaks with an authority Dany cannot hope to achieve. When she had explained where she wished to be taken, and to whom--the labs at the hospital, and to the self-professed Green Witch--securing a covert teleportation had proven easy enough.

Hearing the counsel, Seven save her, is proving much the opposite. Hear it I must, however. ]

What can be done to slow the progression? [ After other questions, there it is: blunt, and an admission of her infection in itself. The lab stools are uncomfortable, but she sits with her hands folded into her lap, one leg tucked beneath the other. ] Are there special foods that I might seek? Poultices?

[ It is unlikely that no one else would have tried a remedy that worked and not dispersed that finding, but she needs to hear it, plainspoken, that she cannot treat her symptoms--only manage them. ]

[There is no pleasure to be found in telling a person that there exists no clue for what ails them- and this is not the first consultation Sieglinde has had to this effect, nor does she think it will be her last.

The Green Witch has always considered herself an adult, despite the body that spoke to otherwise. Two of her birth anniversaries have come and gone, and still she showed no sign of growth spurt or puberty... but there was a weariness now to her features that had not been there on the day she had first met the queen that now sat before her, when she'd been wide-eyed and innocent seeming, confronted with her first sight of the ocean.

The transfers she has seen in her time in Audentes had been bad enough, ripping people from her side one after the other despite promises or bonds, but just days before an even worse alternative had reared its head.

Death.

Comforting the one of of her adopted Woodhurst "fathers" that remained living, mourning the loss herself, and continuing her research in the hopes that nothing further bad would happen if they just tried hard enough, if they could just succeed in finding a cure, has left her features somewhat gaunt, eyes red, and looking somehow more a haggard woman than a child. But what else was there to do?]

I am afraid we have only seen limited success with diet management. At first, I hypothesized that a diet rich in hog meat would curb the hunger, and some patients found limited success through that, but some experienced even worse cravings after the introduction of such a... similar meat... which leads me to believe those benefits were purely mental, and so would vary based on your way of thinking.

[All she has is measures to distract, methods to slow... working with Urahara, Sonia, Peter, and other members of the team had yielded a promising vaccine now in the testing stage... but that did nothing for those already infected.]

I do, however, have a powder that when swallowed with drink can momentarily convince the body of a certain fullness, which could assist... but in the short term.

[But her gaze does not waver from meeting Daenerys', no matter her tiredness, no matter the potential bleakness of their discussion.]

I hope his new body holds up to his old diet. Here.

[ anakin extends his hand to her — the gloved — to help her across a slippery patch. the durasteel fingers are steady under her grip. the other holds a black slender flashlight that emits a strong, white beam. the light illuminates damp walls and fouler floors.

the sewers are more fetid than he remembers. they come upon more evidence every few feet. that not only are there people here, but they're feeding off of more than meat products tossed to them from above. one piece, less decayed than most, showed darkened veins. years of training allowed him to make the connection with little more than narrowed eyes and a curl of distaste to his mouth.

tipping his head in the direction where drogon disappeared, anakin warns, ] I sense it too. Stay close.

[ it's not difficult to tell something's wrong, especially not to someone who pays close attention to detail. while his senses are not so broad as Ahad's, he can feel the slight difference from how she normally feels. she's like an imprint on reality, making a little dent inward. he knows her little dent, and it's turned to something more of a wrinkle.

her temper flares up like flame, both smoldering to embers and rising like a freshly kindled fire. surprisingly, he deflects the insults and anger thrown his way like a pro. his father and his brother are both prone to their bouts of foul moods, and she is neither a god nor large enough in stature to pose a problem on that front.

when he cooks the burgers, he does makes sure that they're rare. Loki is a rare sight in the kitchen, leaning here and there effortlessly, like he knew exactly what he was doing. he did, partially, but he never liked looking like he didn't know what he was doing. he adds the fifth to half a bun, setting down the spatula on the counter when he feels her slim arms around his waist.

his breath deflates from his belly, and he puts a hand over hers. he's warm. ]

And I'm not even going to ask for anything.

[ nice dinners like this usually came with a Loki wants something behind it.

usually, but lately it's been a little different. ]

[This is a dangerous situation for him to be in, although he's been doing his best to be as stealthy as possible on his hunt for supplies.

"""supplies""" meaning things like... nutella??? deodorant, soap, possibly lube...]

Ugh, what is that-

[The stench of rotting flesh hits his nostrils first, although that unpleasant sensation is followed by that blood curdling scream. His head snaps in the direction of that call, although he Daenerys leaps first. The logical thing to do would be rushing to the victim's aid, but instead, he chooses to do the following.]

Even in the middle of the zombie apocalypse-

[He utters, mouth open wide in awe-]

Queen D is slaying the game.

Go get 'em, girl!

[she can't

she can't hear u]

[ He'd been stupid. He knows that now beyond any question; he'd been trying so hard to delude himself into thinking this illness was something he could control that he'd put other people at risk. It hadn't felt unmanageable. A craving for meat was the least of the discomforts Shiro had suffered, and if that stage had stretched, then—

But even the best of his rationalizations hadn't prevented him from landing here. ]

Shiro.

[ Her hands feel cool against his skin. Shiro exhales, then grimaces at himself. He needs to focus rather than taking comfort in this. The anger is banked and simmering, appeased by having her in his grip, but he has to let her go. He has to make sure she can get out before he ends up infecting her too. ]

I'm going to run. You should stay here.

[ It feels criminal. Shiro doesn't know what other options he has other than to run and keep running, all the way back to the apartment he shares with Keith and Aang and seal himself in. ]

[ A gallant gesture. Her hands, fine-boned and delicate where they knit against his false metal ones, belie the firm intent in her grasp, and she steps nimbly over the patch with his aid. When this is done, all that will stop her from having her clothes disposed of is the knowledge that her wardrobe already comprises so little. ]

A dragon's appetite may wax and wane, [ she answers, sweetly, ] but I have learned that fire is always hungry.

[ Calm though she seems, they are in dangerous territory. There are a number of tunnels leading off to the right, and still more down the left if they were to walk another fifty paces, with foul-smelling runoff seeping through grates. If the smell and the water do not trouble the infected, then little remains to deter them from setting upon their search party. But Dany has seen two demonstrations of Anakin's gifts now, and they were enough to persuade her that he is more than capable enough to shield her, if need be. For now, she pays keen attention to sounds, and to where they stand. A conqueror must know some passage of retreat, even if she does not mean to suffer defeat.

Her hand tightens on his in acknowledgment of the warning, more out of instinct than conscious intent to notify a metal hand, and then she lets him go. ]

How many? [ she inquires, her voice lower now. Drogon has not screeched to give her warning; perhaps they are indisposed. ]

Edited 2017-03-10 07:52 (UTC)

I can't be sure. [ eyes narrowed, gaze focused ahead— yet he does not search the space with either eyes or ears. anakin opens himself to the force and he can sense the walls around them without touching them, the meters of rock and earth, of concrete overlying copper, steel and iron. life blooms like so much light in the force, but there's so much of it… ]

The Force is created by living things, [ he explains as he resumes the path. ] I can feel Drogon; I can feel the air on his wings. I can feel others too — but there's many down here. [ and every living being above. ] The tunnel system also makes it harder to tell their proximity. But I definitely feel something ahead.

[ anakin finds dany over his shoulder. his manner adopts the firmness of a jedi knight; the directness of a soldier. removing the gun again from its holster, anakin positions it underneath the flashlight. ]

Stay behind me.

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Page 1 of 6

( SEMI-CLOSED. )

anakin, to catch a cat ( early march )

asher, i hate to bug you in the middle of dinner ( early march )

ahad, she's so high ( early march )

morgue madness (lmk if this works for you!)

it's perfect! oh no, shiro ......

sorry dany :c

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welp

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loki, to see a little bit clearer the rottenness and evil in me ( late march )

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sieglinde, despite all my rage i'm omg everyone knows this one ( early march )

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i'm so sorry that u had 2 wait for this

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