Event: Flu Season

[applesaucemod]

Ah, October. A time of crisp weather, beautiful foliage, pumpkin spice lattes—and the flu. Make sure you get vaccinated!

Of course, vaccinations can't keep you safe from everything. Especially not a capricious, omnipresent entity that has, quite recently, been treated to the highly entertaining sight of someone struggling with illness for the first time in their life. Oh, dear. Someone's been giving the Rift ideas.

On the morning of October 2nd, those rifties who would never consider getting vaccinated against paltry human illnesses--because why would they need to?--will find themselves awake to a new level of personal hell: the flu. It will instantaneously infect any entities who are generally immune to such things, leaving them snotty, achy, miserable, and completely powerless to stop what is happening to them. What is this?! Are they dying? Oh god, the pathos.

Symptoms will persist until October 4th. Get plenty of rest, stay hydrated, and maybe investigate the wonders of chicken soup. Probably don't go see a doctor. Clinic doctors will be very confused and unhelpful about your weird anatomy, and The Doctor will probably be really gross and contagious.

Definitely don't consult WebMD. No good can come of that.

[OOC: Post here for initial reactions or start your own threads using the tag Event: Flu Season. Characters who can be affected are: the Doctor, the TARDIS, Zagreus, Aziraphale, Crowley, Desire, Ascended Daniel, Gabriel, Lucifer, and Rashad. You could probably also make a case for various other non-human/not-quite-human folks. No one's gonna tell you you can't have the flu, okay. Go nuts.]

Comments

[omnomnom_feels]

Rashad sighs and lets out a little groan, dropping his head into one hand and massaging one aching temple. He does not have sufficient energy for this argument. "I could choose, before," he says. "I could choose to experience -- happiness, rarely. The others, more often. I en-- that is, I...did not entirely dislike the experience when it was voluntary."

He'd indulged, as a matter of fact, more often than was necessary. The thrill of fear, the rush of rage -- it had all seemed very appealing when it wasn't happening to him constantly, without his permission and in disorganized fashion. It had been largely negative emotions then, too, because happiness was so rarely intense enough for him to take, but they hadn't really been his negative emotions.

[peacefulexplorer]

To be honest, Daniel's not sure he has the mental energy for philosophical debate right now, either, and he literally is energy. Thanks to the Rift and its, he's assuming, specially-engineered strain of the common flu, he's been rendered drowsy and drained and leaky - all of which are very physical sensations, not that it seems to matter, and all of which are supremely uncomfortable to experience while existing purely in the metaphysical sense.

"Look," he says, tiredly if not unkindly. "Look at me. I'm energy, I'm - Ascended, to a whole other plane of existence. But I still feel things, involuntary or otherwise, physical or - I guess, emotional." Fixation on the physical, at present, unless one counts his perpetual rage and exasperation aimed directly at the Rift, on principle just in general but right now in particular. "Emotions are gonna be a part of the package, no matter who you are or how you exist. You're a life-form. Of course you're gonna feel things." He tries for a wan smile. "That's not bad."

[omnomnom_feels]

"I am no mere life-form," groans Rashad, though the term is vague enough, broad enough, that his denial may be inaccurate even by his own standards (and even discounting his current physical state). "I am not meant to be this way. I am of the machinery of Heaven."

Why does no one understand that? Why can no one grasp that he is not as they are, that their rules and desires and ways of living are not his? He lifts the bottle of foul-smelling medicine to his lips and takes a deep draft without bothering to take any measurement.

[peacefulexplorer]

"Well, uh, not really," says Daniel, not altogether gracefully, simulating a wince. "Not anymore. You've changed - and that's, that's okay," he hastens to add. "That's normal. I mean, I've changed, and I was just human, before. Everything changes."

His eyes widen slightly when Rashad goes and downs a good portion of what looks to be some everyday commercially-distributed over-the-counter form of cough medicine as if from a shot glass.

"Er - you're really supposed to measure that stuff out." Though if the man's not even human, Daniel's not sure if it will really matter.

[omnomnom_feels]

"Entropy," agrees Rashad, and the thought makes tears come to his eyes. Everything does change, and that is why the world will end. There must have been a time of perfection, before mortal decay set in and archons twisted themselves to the cause of chaos and evil, but even by the time he was created things already were not so.

His lower lip trembles and he sniffs in a very wet, congested breath that does nothing to end the constant leakage of his nose. "You are on the upward path," he points out. "You have better things before you. You could be a force for the good of the universe if you so chose."

[peacefulexplorer]

"I do try to be," he says quietly, though he's completely certain his definition of 'good' differs quite significantly from Rashad's. "As much as I can here, anyway. The Rift likes to complicate things. I'm sure you're aware." They're both rather painfully aware, at the moment; a low, dull ringing has begun to suffuse his awareness to go with the ache resonating through him, not unlike that which accompanies a blocked sinus.

"You know, you might wanna try soup," he says, inelegantly changing the subject. "Even if you don't need to eat, it might help?"

[omnomnom_feels]

He is certainly aware. Rashad waves the hand holding the half-depleted bottle, then grimaces and takes a moment to carefully cap it after some sloshes out onto his hand. For a moment he feels the urge to throw it instead, but it subsides and he instead tucks it back into his shopping bag as he licks the medicine off his hand. It is of course terrible, and he hates it. The feeling of hatred gives him no satisfaction.

"Soup?" The concept is not unfamiliar, just generally inapplicable. "I am...capable of eating," he allows. "The remedies for illness with which I am familiar rely on rituals, the materials for which are difficult to procure here. I am not aware of food being itself a remedy."

[peacefulexplorer]

"Not the food itself, really." However much they may differ in personal philosophy, there remains a rather salient difference between them, that difference being that Rashad at least has a physical body he can attempt to treat, while Daniel does not. Presumably he'll just drift about, sneezing himself into various particles, until the Rift decides it's derived enough entertainment from that display. "The steam is good, though - for the body, I mean. Tea or a hot shower would have the same effect."

He lifts an insubstantial shoulder, expression wry. "Take it from someone who's been there."

[omnomnom_feels]

"I do not have...a shower," replies Rashad, unwilling to share that he does not have a home in general. That is not as hard for him as it might be for a lesser being, as he needs not eat, sleeps only when the Rift forces him to do so, and can keep himself orderly by aetheric rather than physical means. He does at least possess a little money, though it is finite and has lasted this long only because he had ceased to spend it at all until today. "Tea or soup will have to do if this remedy is to be of benefit."

[peacefulexplorer]

Well, that's not so strange, seeing as Daniel currently doesn't have a shower either. Or anything by the way of personal belongings, until he can find some way to obtain tangibility again.

"I mean, I have no idea if it'll help?" he adds belatedly. "Seeing as neither of us should be getting sick in the first place. Odds are, it'll fade on its own after a few days. It always does."

[omnomnom_feels]

"I have learned better than to believe that the rules that usually apply, that should apply, will continue to apply," says Rashad bitterly. "Perhaps this is to be our new state of being. It is only a new layer of suffering over many old ones, is it not?"

How do people live like this? He does not understand how people live like this.

[peacefulexplorer]

"I mean." He looks at Rashad oddly, head canting to one side. "It's not so bad?"

Then again, Daniel has a point of reference. He's been human, he's been sick before. He's had to deal with the lasting, human consequences. Whereas Rashad and others like him must be utterly unprepared for the surplus of unpleasant bodily secretions that would otherwise be little more than a brief if miserable inconvenience.

"I guess that would change if you're not used to it," he amends. "Though, to put things in perspective, a good five million people deal with it annually. The flu."

[omnomnom_feels]

He is reduced to this. Not only must he live in a physical state at all times and suffer the indignities of such an arrangement, not only is he forced to experience feelings and impulses outside of his control, but he is to be subject to illness as though he were only one more of those five million. The sniffling sound he makes next must be ascribed to his physical condition; he has made such sounds while simply attempting to breathe, after all. The whimper is a little less typical. "I am in hell," he whines. "I have no purpose and everything is misery."

[peacefulexplorer]

"Mm, wouldn't say that," Daniel says helpfully, somewhere between skeptical and amused. "I've been. There's usually more fire and torment and fewer things like soup and NyQuil."

Rashad's apparent predicament should be far from entertaining, but seeing exactly how unprepared he must be in the confrontation of small, persistent inconveniences such as cold and flu season is startlingly intriguing.

"In terms of finding a purpose, I don't think I can really help you there." He shrugs, his expression sympathetic. "Except for maybe job-hunting. And I know how that can go."

[omnomnom_feels]

"It was largely a metaphorical statement," clarifies Rashad from behind the hand he drags down his face. "My apologies, I do understand that metaphors are inexact and imprecise. And not -- not befitting --"

He drags in a deep, very wet breath that comes out again in an uneven sort of sob. "Do you think employment would help?"

[peacefulexplorer]

Oh. Oh geez. He didn't mean to actually trigger an existential crisis in the man. They might have their disagreements, but - wow, whoops.

"It - it might?" he says weakly, confidence diminishing in the face of obvious, unanticipated distress. "I'm sorry. I really do wish I could help, but, uh." He remembers his former employers before he Ascended - distantly he hopes his disappearance didn't startle or otherwise inconvenience them too much, as he doubts appearing to them now in his current state would be of much help - but somehow he doubts Rashad would be a good fit for that line of work.

"Sorry," he says again, somewhat sheepishly.

[omnomnom_feels]

The existential crisis comes and goes. It is hard to cope with the knowledge that he is not what he once was, and harder to accept certain behaviors he has adopted during his time among mortals. He does not even speak plainly anymore, but...exaggerates. It is deplorable, but it frequently seems necessary in order to get across his point.

"The contents of my apartment were teleported into the park," he says, volunteering information sans prompting for once. "Most of it has since been stolen. I do not -- I do not need those things, but -- I do not even have a place to put myself."

[peacefulexplorer]

"Well, I'd recommend the old rifty housing, but I'm not really sure how that works anymore." Daniel frowns, trying to remember if anyone's ever mentioned how things have been since the Rift went public, and yet again has difficulty tracing his personal timeline. The infrastructure could resemble anything at this point. He's not really in a position to say.

"There are shelters and places like that," he ventures slowly. "Not sure where you might be able to keep your stuff in that case."

[omnomnom_feels]

"They are all in cahoots," says Rashad. "It is one angel that ejected me from my place, and another angel that controls the old rebel building. They are all against me and now I must live in the garbage. The only thing to do is to wait for my fortunes to change. As you say, things do change."

[peacefulexplorer]

"Cahoots," Daniel repeats mildly. "Well, this is just a shot in the dark, but, uh - ever think maybe you might wanna change your ways instead of waiting for things to change for your benefit? I mean," he gestures loosely at his construct, "that's more or less what I had to do. It was change or die, basically. Just, you know. Consider it."

[omnomnom_feels]

"Cahoots," confirms Rashad gravely. "And I cannot die whether I wish to or not. I changed my ways before now, and it resulted in this. I should strive to be as close to what I was as I can if I am to slow the entropy that will eventually destroy the world."

He sighs, a wet, unpleasant sound. "It is difficult."

[peacefulexplorer]

"You realize entropy isn't necessarily a bad thing," says Daniel, "right? I mean, it's kind of a fact of nature. That's why humans have lasted so long - they're not necessarily better at any one thing, but they're adaptable. They endure."

He sniffs once, which isn't a function that should be available to him at all in this form, but there's not much he can do about that one way or another. "S'not so out of the question to try doing the same."

[omnomnom_feels]

Rashad stares at him in shocked silence, a drip slowly forming on the end of his nose. Not necessarily bad?! "I am of Heaven," he says, speaking slowly and clearly because obviously there has been a very deep misunderstanding here. "The angels of Heaven exist to propagate Order for the good of the world. Entropy is an oppositional force. Entropy is the oppositional force. It is an infection."

[peacefulexplorer]

"Entropy isn't going anywhere," Daniel says with a shrug. "It's kind of fundamental. It's not going away. Heaven isn't really a thing here, as I understand it." At least according to Gabriel and Lucifer. If he doesn't trust the word of the latter, he certainly does of the former.

"So, you know - maybe adapt? Just, uh, think - "

Whatever he means to say next is promptly lost in a gusty sneeze that scatters his atoms to the proverbial winds again.

Again.