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

[theoldgirl]

What's enough is his ridiculous insolence, of which the dead leaves are only a very small part. Nonetheless aggravating, though, and she opens her eyes narrowly to glare down at him, shaking the dirt off her foot back in his direction. She isn't anywhere close to shutting down so completely as to lose consciousness, but it would almost be preferable to all of this.

His question, for all its laughable stupidity, is so suddenly frustrating and infuriating that for a moment she can't even reply. Doesn't concern her? That she's trapped, blinded, useless, and at the complete mercy of the whims of a barely understood and terrifyingly unpredictable cosmic phenomenon? Without a doubt she is the most concerned of all the creatures stranded in this wretched stifling cage of a city, and he knows, he must know, how dare he.

So she isn't going to bother finding words for any of this, instead sighing bitterly. "What do you expect me to do?", she spits out, riled by her galling helplessness. If there was an obvious solution, doesn't he think she would have tried it by now? She does what the Doctor asks her to do; what else is there?