ioduanlogs | [EVENT] Space Sickness ☣

Entry tags:

[EVENT] Space Sickness ☣

Characters: Open to everyone
Date: May 3 onward
Location: Turtle-wide
Situation: The latest Shunt mission had a few extra passengers aboard.
Warnings/Rating: Parasites. Ew. (Also hallucinations)

The most recent shunt has faded back into the Dreaming, but nothing ever wraps up neatly. The ship was, unbeknownst to most, a floating biohazard - and the rescuers brought the contagious, microscopic cargo back to shore.

Members of the shunt mission will have picked up some of these nasty parasites, and by now they’d have had a chance to breed and spread. They are small, practically invisible to the naked eye. They feed on strong emotional energy and are reasonably contagious. Their particular nature means that even those with good immune systems, or those who would normally be safe from such creatures, may still be under threat.

Symptoms include:

Visual and auditory hallucinations - particularly pertaining to the deceased

Mild to severe paranoia

Distorted sense of time

Synesthesia, such as “seeing” sounds or “hearing” colors.

Impulsive behavior

The hallucinations combined with the paranoia have made many people who contracted the parasites dangerous with a potential to lash out violently. The parasites are spread by contact, and upon getting them, it takes only a few days for them to become a real problem.

The Corfuhl inform the Sentry that some of their scanners had picked up the parasitic organisms on the mother while treating her hallucinations. The medical sector really steps up here, determining that the parasites probably came from the space debris that struck the ship, and immediately get to work with containing the damage. The Corfuhl and their rescuers are contacted discreetly, and questioned about symptoms. Since the parasites are alien in origin, the medical staff reach out to the Dreamfolk - especially from Dreamfolk with backgrounds in disease control and parasitology, or anything even remotely neighboring.

The real difficulty is finding patterns in how microscopic bugs are spread and figuring out the vector, and any and all help is appreciated. Given that Dreamfolk are also much more varied in terms of physiology, the medical teams may want to keep an eye on those showing symptoms in case they have an especially adverse reaction - or if any who participated on the mission are symptom-free, and potentially key to treating the parasites.

Fortunately, this isn't the first time Aifaran has had to deal with tiny invaders, and so within a few days of the first symptoms being shown, there's a prepared treatment: bathe in this pungent liquid, wash all your clothes in it, and the bugs are gone. Unfortunately it doesn't repel them, only kill them, so if you're incautious it's entirely possible to be exposed a second time.

At least the treatment is plentiful. Notes on this particular parasite are filed along all the other Dreaming weirdnesses, for future reference. It's going to take a little time to make sure the city is completely clean, but it will be.

---

OOC Notes: Please note that this event is by no means compulsory. Even if your character was on the mission, if this is something you don't want to deal with then perhaps your character's emotions were just the wrong flavor for these clingy new ~~friends~~ parasites.

Additionally, because they're efficient little things, it's also to become infected through secondary transmission, so your character doesn't have to have participated in the mission to have some or all of the symptoms.

Apart from that, threading is open, feel free to plonk anything having to do with these parasites and their fallout here.

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[A: Study (May 4th)]

Little bugs, huh? I didn't know they could be such a nuisance.

[Padparadscha's experience with parasites is largely coincidental, and involving the occasions of finding living things that have passed on and begun to decompose. Still, they've been around the local scientific community a good amount recently, so it's a little hard to turn them down when they ask for a study of parasite effects.

They seem to be affected, the scientists say, but the symptoms haven't appeared yet. Padparadscha gives a slight hum of what might be concern, withdrawing their hand and looking over it as if searching for any trace.]

So this is what organic things have to deal with all the time, huh?

--

[B: Hallucinations (May 5th-6th)]

(a.)

[Things remain seemingly normal for the next day or so after Padparadscha's check-in with the scientists, and they're merely walking one of their normal routes around the city when someone starts walking next to them.

Padparadscha glances over for a greeting before stopping still, expression pitching downcast for a moment before they salvage it into a smile that somehow manages to be happy, sad and apologetic all at once.]

Ah, Rutile, they have enough "quack doctors" here, they need you back at home more.

[For all anyone else can see, Padparadscha is talking to nothing, but the expression of conflict on their face is very real, even as they force a merry mood.]

(b.)

[The next time the sight of a gem appears in Padparadscha's vision, they're marginally more prepared - though it all looks so real it's hard to believe anything else. This one, however, is a dead giveaway purely because the green gem standing in front of them hasn't been in one piece like this in a very long time.]

Phosphophyllite? [Padparadscha's smile edges somewhat bitter, though still faintly amused.] Ah, I'd believe in you a little more if you were still that mottled mess of stones you are now, huh? Poor thing.

[Padparadscha makes a cutting motion in the air with their hand, exactly where the Phos hallucination's neck is. It's a difficult gesture to mistake.]

--

[C: Paranoia (May 6th-7th)]

[Padparadscha has been trying to get into the habit of serving sentry in their own way in this city - it's not their home, but sentry is what they were made to do, so sentry force or not, they don't really feel like it's no longer their job.

For some reason, though, each cast of moonlight these nights has their hand on their blade. A white light in the air makes them turn sharply, ready to draw before it reforms into the clear shape of a lantern, and Padparadscha watches it closely for a moment before moving on.

When they reach the water's edge, the moon is reflecting brightly on the surface, and they let out a somewhat wan laugh.]

It's a good night for an attack, huh...? [The Moon People aren't here. They also aren't supposed to be enemies anymore. And yet.

Their hand goes to their sword again.]

--

[D: Treatment (May 8th)]

[Well, isn't this a charming smell? Padparadscha isn't too bothered by the stinky bath solution compared to how they've seen some other people treating it, but they're not going to stench out their room's bath with it either, so they've just taken a large tub outside the Dreaming Bridge and are sitting in it with their clothes set to one side. They lack anything that would make being nude terribly indecent and don't seem to care anyway...but perhaps "raw" is the best word for what they are right now.]

Ah, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this for a while longer...

[The white powder that usually forms Padparadscha's skin has dissolved into the bath water. Beneath it, there's nothing but smooth gemstone, the same orange-red as their hair and the filled holes in their torso they always leave visible. The only distinct part is their eyes, still white, though it may be more obvious in contrast now that those are also just formed gemstone themselves, only a different kind.]

I guess I'll have to test that new stuff sooner than I thought. [They muse on that, dipping their crystalline hair back into the water so the treatment can get into that as well.]

Kit hasn't been immune to the effects of the microscopic parasites that evidently hitched a ride on him back to Aifaran after the Shunt mission--but maybe the Dreaming has chosen to cut him a little slack after playing havoc with his memories of Tad in the Deep Roads a couple months ago. For whatever reason, the hallucinations and occasional bouts of paranoia haven't been as debilitating as they might have been... though he has to admit, 'hearing' colours has been kind of an adventure.

Along that vein, Padparadscha's unmistakeable fall of brightly coloured hair 'sounds' like stone wind chimes, and is familiar enough to make Kit pause in his late night wandering to walk towards his friend. Cautiously, of course. He can't know how they have been affected by the parasites.

"Hey," he says, already eyeing the way Padparadscha's hand has flown to their sword, and stops short, uncertain. He looks from that weapon to their face, then lifts his hands some; he's unarmed. "It's just me," he offers out.

Thankfully, the kind of attack Padparadscha is remarking on is one from the sky, so a voice behind them isn't enough to set them off. They do, however, take a few moments to turn their attention from the moon, take their hand off their blade, and turn to him with one of their mild, faintly insincere smiles.

"So I can see. Don't worry, it's rare that my weapon has ever been needed for anything on the ground," Padparadscha replies, running a hand over the sheath. Due to the excessive length of it - almost as tall as them - rather than being attached to their belt or something similar, it's tied horizontally, hanging from the back of their pants.

"Have you encountered our new world-transcending friends as well?" They give a somewhat amused smile at it, despite the situation. The parasites are certainly an...experience for someone from a species with no real concept of illness.

"Have you encountered our new world-transcending friends as well?"

A snort follows, along with a lopsided smirk that conveys a great deal of exhaustion as well as some amusement. "Yeah, they've been a real treat. Hearing colours is a new one for me. It's weird."

The shape and make of Padparadscha's sword is unlike anything Kit has ever encountered before; the one-handed war axes he so often carries (though not tonight) are the typical solid, sturdy things constructed by the dwarves of Orzammar. He leans a bit to the side to get a better look at it, unable to hide his curiosity, then juts his chin at it.

"Nice sword."

That's one way to change the subject.

"Oh? That sounds interesting, I would've preferred that kind of symptom..." The last word is somewhat measured, as if it's one they've only recently picked up. They heard the scientists using it a lot after the initial studies.

At Kit's curiosity about the sword, Padparadscha hums slightly in agreement and unsheathes it slightly. The blade is black and has an odd sheen to it, as if it's constructed of crystal rather than metal.

"Obsidian has been doing good work for some years now. I've yet to find a blacksmith here who could match their skills, but I suppose that's to be expected when you only have a limited life to hone your craft."

Padparadscha shrugs slightly, as if it can't be helped.

The moonlight adds an air of the spectacular to the blade as it is unsheathed; Kit emits a low whistle and takes a few steps nearer to get a better look at it in the dark.. He's no smith, but he's spent enough of his life wielding weapons to recognize master craftsmanship when he sees it. "Incredible," he murmurs under his breath.

"Obsidian has been doing good work for some years now. I've yet to find a blacksmith here who could match their skills, but I suppose that's to be expected when you only have a limited life to hone your craft."

That makes him look up in some surprise. "Hey now," he says, and even though he's wearing one of his trademark, lopsided little smiles as he does it, it's clear he's a little defensive. (And trying not to be; it's a matter of perspective here, he recognizes that, but all the same.) "Maybe I didn't have that much of it, but I like to think I put a lot of living into my life, for a dead guy."

...There's a joke in there somewhere, about the Legion of the Dead, its ritually dead soldiers, but it doesn't only fall flat because Padparadscha can't really know about it. But Kit's death in Thedas ultimately wasn't just figurative, and it's still a little too soon for him to really be laughing about it. Uncomfortable suddenly, he scratches at his beard and grimaces. "It really is a beautiful weapon though."

Padparadscha laughs a bit at the slightly defensive tone, waving a hand as if to say it wasn't meant like that. "There's nothing wrong with their craft, little one, or with having a shorter life. There comes a point where any person becomes so good that all they can truly do is continue to hone, and that point would fall within the lifetime of most living things."

A master can still exist among the living, but an immortal one can continue to streamline and perfect their work as long as their passion allows. In any case, since Kit is already looking somewhat uncomfortable about something, Padparadscha offers a thin smile and sheathes the blade again.

"All of my people who are sent to do fighting duties of any kind are given one. We have specialised forms for things like cutting ice as well, but Antarcticite was the only one of us to ever really use those."

And Phos, but the less questions invited about Phos, the better.

A special sword designed to cut ice? "That sounds handy," he muses out loud, and looks to be genuinely mulling it over if his expression is any indication. "Probably more efficient than hacking away at a glacier with an ice pick. Which seems like a weird thing to do to me anyway. The cold is bad enough on its own, why would anyone want to pick it up and carry it around with them?"

His smile is a little more relaxed now; that joke came to him easier than the last, and seems to have swept away his residual discomfort. For a second or two he considers Padparadscha where they stand, as if trying to decide through looking at them whether their paranoia from moments before was still causing them trouble. Then he suggests, "I don't know if you like beer or anything but--you want to go get a drink or...?" Vague hand gesture. "Just go sit somewhere?" He nods at the sword. "We can talk about who you usually wield that thing against, if you want. Or not." He shrugs, understated acceptance in the action.

That makes Padparadscha laugh a little. "I don't think an ice pick would be nearly as useful for what we need."

Breaking up glaciers into the ocean each winter is an important job, and the style of the swords allows them to do it with relative ease compared to spending whatever amount of time trying to pick through the massive structures. Still, it's not something they want to linger on for too long considering Antarcticite's fate.

It's somewhat difficult to tell whether Padparadscha's paranoia is still a concern - though they do keep glancing back slightly towards what's behind them. Force of habit, in a way, even if it's not nearly as advanced as the paranoia some others are displaying. But his offer makes them pause slightly, before they let out a low, rolling laugh.

"Food and drink would ruin my insides, I'm afraid, but if you want to get one yourself and talk, I'm not opposed."

"Food and drink would ruin my insides, I'm afraid, but if you want to get one yourself and talk, I'm not opposed."

That doesn't sound like a refusal to Kit's ears. (Even the deaf one.) Still--

"You don't eat or drink? ...Anything?" His eyebrows reach high towards his hairline. Thus far he's encountered a lot of peculiarities in Aifaran, but this is definitely one of the strangest. Already he's taking a few ambling steps back towards the city, and in the general direction of a cafe that he hopes will be open at this hour. Unless the paranoia afflicting Padparadscha has spread to other corners of the city, to greater effect. "How do you, you know," an idle gesture, "keep going?"

With a slight laugh, Padparadscha knocks on their own stomach, producing that solid chime of gem on gem that it does. "I don't have anything for it to go through."

Still, they start to follow Kit back towards the city, sliding their sword properly back into its sheath. While they may be paying a little more attention to moonlight shadows than usual, they seem more controlled than some of the people under the paranoia effects.

"My people live off sunlight. It's tiring for me to be out this late, but it's a nice hour. Some gems can cheat, like Cinnabar, but for the most part we exhaust ourselves easily working at night."

Padparadscha doesn't technically require sleep, but considering how lethargic night can make them, sometimes it's just more worth it to sleep until the sun rises.

1. Synesthesia

It's a poorly kept secret that Eiji's vision has been failing him since February. But for the most part, he's been able to pass as if his vision were mostly normal.

He can see. It's just that finer details are sometimes hard to make out, and he has a hard time distinguishing colors now.

Or so he thought.

It's hard to resist petting a bibiru whenever he comes across one, and the fact that they're fluffy and feathery really helps make up for the fact that he's not sure if it's just that they look like black-spotted white animals, or if he can't pick up the color.

His fingers brush into the fluff, and suddenly a flash of warm, buttercup yellow appears in his vision.

He pauses for a moment, completely shocked, as the bibiru starts to sniff his fingers.

2. Hallucinations

It's just another day, making deliveries to the soup kitchen. Eiji helps unload boxes of food that he's restored with his Talent. He's really been throwing himself into the charity work lately, after failing to find the Corfuhl woman's daughter. Admittedly, he knew it was possible she was just imagining a dead child because of the trauma of the shunt's collision, but the fact that they even had to cope with that knowledge was troubling.

He hears crying all of a sudden--a child's voice. Concerned, he looks up and sees a ghost.

"Alfreed?"

Padparadscha has been experiencing the hallucinations to a degree themselves, so the sight of someone else talking to thin air has them naturally assuming it's the same thing. Expression as composed as ever, they reach out to carefully tap him on the shoulder.

"It's the little visitors, child, they're making us see strange things."

The sudden tap on his shoulder causes a zigzag of electric green to appear in his vision for a moment, but he blinks it away as he turns to Padparadscha.

"Visitors?"

Padparadscha makes the shape of a crawling creature with their hand. "The 'parasites' the scientists have been making such a fuss about. I would have thought nobody could miss it with how loud they're being about their studies."

Then again, maybe they've just been around the science sector too much lately.

"Parasites?"

Someone had come to see him about that, hadn't they? How long ago was it?

"No, they...they already cleaned everything and said I should be okay to go."

That was right. That had to be...it couldn't have been too long ago. He was sure of it.

Padparadscha hums slightly, since that doesn't seem to quite line up with their knowledge. "Cleaning doesn't prevent them coming back, though, does it? They've already been saying to be careful about that."

Presumably if there was a permanent deterrent, they'd just be distributing that instead.

Eiji shakes his head. That doesn't make sense. He hasn't been around anyone else who was infected.

"No, I did everything they told me to."

"Ah, well, I suppose you'll have to think of some other reason that you were speaking to something that can't be seen by anyone else, huh?"

Padparadscha winks slightly, seeming more amused than anything by the response. It's not really their problem as long as he's not being violent, but it does seem a bit strange to them to be so steadfast about it not being the bugs.

"I..."

Eiji shakes his head. It can't be that he's infected again and hallucinating. He did everything right. It has to be that the little girl he failed to save is still, miraculously, alive. That he has a second chance.

"Something on your mind?" Padparadscha still seems rather amused by his reaction, especially considering the manner in which they met last time. They suppose they can understand not wanting to consider that the parasites might have returned again, but to their knowledge there aren't a great deal of things that can cause humans to see things that aren't there.

Eiji takes off running, rather than try to answer that question. He has to find her. He has to save her this time, or he'll never be able to live with himself for failing a second time.

Padparadscha watches him go, but doesn't chase, expression shifting to something a little more removed. They gave him enough truth to work with - what he chooses to ignore from it and the consequences that result are his own, however unfortunate.

Sadly, Eiji and the truth aren't on speaking terms right now, so he's just going to stupidly run off and get himself hurt. It's just how things go with him.

Ever since her dream of her little sister’s death and her consequent breakdown at the Turtle’s Head, Ilda’s been on autopilot, operating under some sort of trance. She still hasn’t shaken off the dream’s violent images - most especially the blood on her own hands - and they even seem to be getting worse as the hours pass. By nightfall, there’s blood on the walls, too. By midnight, voices, her parents and twin brother blaming her for Ingride’s death.

By morning the next day, she finds herself standing in front of a temple. She doesn’t know which one; she can’t even recall making the trip in the first place. But she’s staring up at the temple, not with reverence or curiosity, but with fear and anger and hate.

The Queen is out to get her, she’s sure of it now. For some reason, Her Majesty’s targeted Ilda specifically - killing her sister, turning her family against her, then making her the bad guy. Hell of a use of one’s divine powers.

Well, if she’s going to be blamed for everything anyway...

“Are you alright, miss...?” a passerby asks. It’s still early in the morning, but not too early for a small crowd to already be up and about with their daily business.

Ilda doesn’t look at him as she answers, “I’m tearing this temple apart.”

It's a pretty normal morning for Zelos, at least before he passes the temple and overhears what the beautiful young hunny says. He's eaten something, he's learned a little more about the Tourney, and the weather's nice enough that he's considering flying up to the turtle's head. Needless to say, that idea flies out of his head pretty fast.

Once upon a time, he'd have been overjoyed to hear someone saying something like that. Now, much to his internal grumbling, he actually kind of wants to stop it. Stupid Lloyd. Stupid Kratos.

"Woah, woah, what?" he says, barging in where he's pretty sure he isn't welcome and doesn't really care. "Why? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for tearing down the church, but that's not really gonna make you a lot of friends. Someone as beautiful as you should have lots of friends, right?"

Ilda tilts her head to the side, looking at Zelos with a faint hint of curiosity, although it’s without her usual bubbly energy. He’s cute, and if the circumstances had been different, she would’ve been shamelessly flirting with him by now. Especially since he’s called her beautiful.

But what little light she feels right now is quickly overtaken by the dark spiral of emotions that have seeped into the walls of her heart.

“What’s the use of having friends if the gods are just going to take away the people I care about?” she challenges, turning her gaze back to the temple. Her eyes glint with steely determination. “I’d rather be free in a godless world. Wouldn’t you?”

Her tone shifts somewhat, her emotions triggering yet another burst of persuasive energy. The random passerby, who couldn’t resist listening in, is now nodding in vigorous agreement.

Edited 2018-05-15 02:39 (UTC)

"Well, there's..." Zelos starts, without the first idea what he's going to say next, because he agrees. But he owes it to Lloyd to try, right?

Except Lloyd isn't here. This isn't the Church of Martel, and the gorgeous young woman sounds very, very compelling.

"There's the... well, for one thing, the gods here might not even be real, people say all kinds of ... no, you know what, forget it. Free in a godless world, that's me. Where do we start?"

Several others have stopped in their tracks, ensnared by the net of her emotion-invoked persuasive ability. They crowd around her and Zelos in rapt attention, all strangers yet sharing the same sentiments at that moment.

“Free in a godless world,” the passerby repeats, nodding absently in agreement. What a good way to live!

It’s not long before the chanting starts: “Free in a godless world! Free in a godless world! Free in a godless world!”

Ilda turns to Zelos, smiling, grateful to have a comrade when she wasn’t expecting any support. It‘s a lot like her usual mischievous smile - except for the steely glint in her eyes. “Feel like smashing things?”

Early Stages
Klaus Von Reinherz, disoriented and confused, was not having a good day. He kept seeing a flicker of ghostly blue, or perhaps the tail of a white coat disappearing behind a building. He would pick up speed to confirm his growing sense of dread, only to find nothing.

He staggered down an alley, breathing heavily. He felt feverish and fatigued, and he'd gone rather pale. He couldn't remember how long ago he'd left the shop on an errand - he couldn't even remember what he set out to do. Only that he was seeing signs of something very bad.

Had Curious come to Aifaran?

Just the thought chilled him. A sentient doomsday artifact could cause all manner of trouble.

Late Stages - Leo + Open

Klaus was very much not right in the head. Case in point, he was presently carrying an equally disoriented Leo up the side of a building in an attempt to get the younger man away from some unseen assailant. It was, fortunately, not a skyscraper like That One Time when they had to get back into headquarters, but Aisling tower wasn't exactly a small building either.

If one were reminded of that time Fey Rey was whisked away by a stop-motion gorilla, it would be an adequate comparison.

Recovery/Aftermath - Hospital - Open
After the sentry had left, satisfied that this had been yet another incident involving one of the super-powered Dreamfolk afflicted by the parasites, Klaus sat quietly in his hospital bed. He was still groggy, but he was lucid enough to realize what had happened and how close he could have gotten to hurting an innocent.

At least he had only been lashing out at shadows but even that was a cold comfort.

It wasn't unusual for Klaus to blame himself even for things that were out of his control, but this time had hit him particularly close to home - he had been the one out of control and that...

...that was something that should never happen.

Klaus buried his face in his hand, exhaling. He'd have to pay damages for what he'd done to a bridge and some other property damage, but at least no one had been hurt. He'd been careless, he hadn't realized something was wrong when he should have, and this time he'd been very, very lucky.

Leo was used to waking up in the hospital, but less used to his eyes feeling puffy and stinging around the edges. Had he used his eyes a lot? Leo remember not being able to tell what was real anymore and then suddenly being chased by a large terrifying monster...and no matter how much he yelled, he couldn't find Klaus.

The thought striking him, Leo suddenly sat up in bed, his eyes open and vision swimming. Almost immediately he had to wince; they were still tender. "Ow, fuck...."

It seemed normal now, though. Even the distortions had died down. Now about that monster-Leo nearly jumped out of his bed when he saw a large hulking figure, only then seeing the red hair and familiar silhouette of his boss. "Mr. Klaus! Why are you here?"

Klaus had been so deep in his brooding that he hadn't noticed Leo stirring. The young man's exclamation had certainly startled him out of broody pique, however, and and he turned to Leo, shoulders slumped and expression contrite.

"Ah... Leonardo. You're awake-"

Klaus stood, and poured him a glass of water.

"Please, take it easy. We both contracted some kind of parasite from that mission with the shuttle," he explained. "Apparently they've been spreading at quite a rate - they cause rather severe hallucinations."

He passed the glass over to Leo, still looking rather guilty.

"I er... was under the impression we were in danger earlier, and carried you up the side of Aisling Tower."

Leo accepted the water from Klaus, feeling somehow this was like when he woke up from after Gamimotz attacked him. Well, less missing fingers and blood this time, it seemed, though his eyes were still sore. "Ugh."

He didn't remember anything except flashes of some horrifying visions that seemed more dream-like than real. The one thing that was consistant however, was-"Mr. Klaus! There was something horrible chasing me!"

Leo jumped almost completely out of bed, ending up cling to it as his vision swam, looking around until he couldn't bear the stinging any longer. "It's the only thing I can remember. There was some terrifying monster that kidnapped me and-oh."

Oh.

"Er..."

Sorry I was absolutely utterly out of my mind with paranoia and hallucinating every foe we've fought in the past year was on our tail probably wasn't going to cut it. Leo must have been just as frightened as he'd been.

"I should have realized something was wrong sooner." Klaus said, head lowered. "But yes. We were both under the influence of rather severe hallucinations."

Leo himself fell back onto the bed, taking a pillow to cover his face and groan into. God, he'd just made things worse, hadn't he? AND he'd been calling out for Klaus the whole time.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry!! I didn't realize it was you, I swear! I wouldn't have run away," He said, confessing to the pillow only like that was going to stop his embarrassment. "I think I might have...vision hacked literally everyone too from the feel of things."

"Leonardo," Klaus pleaded, "Leonardo, please don't apologize to me. I'm the one who frightened you."

This isn't your fault, he thought, his eyes falling to the scar at the base of Leo's finger, a pang of guilt washing over him. You don't have to carry this as well.

"...Did your eyes overheat?" He asked, automatically reaching for the pillow to inspect for any of the tell-tale burns that came with over-use. He hesitated and let his hand fall to the side. Leo didn't need him fussing like an overprotective hen.

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[EVENT] Space Sickness ☣

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OPEN | CW: paranoia, impulsive behavior, persuasion powers activating, possible violence?

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Klaus Von Reinherz | Blood Blockade Battlefront

Hospital

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