I send a pestilence and plague....

[sendmyscourge]

Midnight passes again

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[calicoway]

There's a kitten in the Tower who has become more kitten than human but still has enough human sense about him to know that he's dying. As soon as the sickness hit him, he knew. He's HIV+. He can't afford to get sick.

Dying.dying.dying. this is it. this is- didn't get to say- Babel!? J!? Des?! Becky?! Please. Please. Please. Not now. Not yet. Not ready. Need- No one's here. The room is alone. It smells of emptiness and sickness and pain and death. Not of people. Not of love. Not of anything nice at all.

He's curled in a ball in the corner of the lobby, trembling and purring to soothe himself but it's not working much. Panic has set in bringing the human back enough to think, to deal, to fix, but he's stuck as a kitten and getting sicker by the second. The kitten sits up and coughs up vomit, trembling as he stumbles away from it, from the smell, and the sick and he curls into another ball.

Brando, where's Brando? Anybody? Please? Why isn't he here? He said he'd take care of Luke. He said. He said there was family and love and protection where he was going and he's not safe and he's alone. What happened? What-

And he can't even turn human to write any goodbyes or to ask for help or to move or to find anyone at all. He's stuck, hurting all over, feverish as a kitten can ever get. His paws reach up to cover his face, stop the light from getting to his eyes. When he manages to, he meows as loud as he can. It's a croaking, horrid sound. He's just hoping someone will hear him and hold him because the floor is cold, cold, cold and mean and hates him and he doesn't want to die lying curled against it.

His fur is fluffed out every which way in his panic, terrified of dying but terrified more of dying alone and that's what's going to happen. The human dread sinks on top of him, and he uses all his strength to lift his head and meow again. One last hope.

[theb5mantra]

Ivanova happens to be passing near the lobby when she hears the meow, feels the sheer panic, even through her shields.

Instantly, she comes out, and... Kitten. Kitten who is sick. She knows her plagues: pestilence affecting livestock, and while it might be a bit of a stretch to include pets... Well, these haven't exactly been typical plagues, and there are shapeshifters around.

"It's okay," she says, trying to keep her voice low and soothing. "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you a shapeshifter?"

[calicoway]

It is easier at least to get a better hold on reality when someone else is near. He's not sure why he was thinking about Brando. Brando is dead along with many other people who'd flashed through his mind in an effort to find something to hold on to.

Yes. Luke manages to nod.

Shapeshifter. That's what he is.

[theb5mantra]

"I can get you to the doctors here. I'm Susan Ivanova. And..." she looks at her gloved hands for a moment. "I'm a telepath. If you have someone you need to see, or you have to get word to someone, I can do that, but I'd have to scan you. I won't do that without your consent, but if you want me to..."

She kneels down by the kitten, hoping for some kind of a sign, a clear yes or no.

[prince_stupid]

Ragnar hears it. He was coming to see that everyone was all right in the wake of the monster attacks (that, and he's beginning to worry over Sark's absence), but spotting Luke, tiny and obviously ill, draws him over at once. He nuzzle the little kitten's head. "Hush, small one," he murmurs. "You're safe."

He doesn't care if Luke is contagious. The idea doesn't even occur to him. He simply folds himself around the kitten and starts licking its head, ears, back, tail, and then working his way back to Luke's nose. It's not helping. Not really. He can feel health rising and falling with each stroke of his tongue, barely lasting until the next touch of Ragnar's abilities.

He'll do this all day if he must. He won't let Luke die like this. He can't.

[calicoway]

...Ragnar?

It takes him a second to recognize who it is that's got him, that's speaking to him.

Thank you.

The kitten is happy enough to not be alone. It's enough to soothe the panic that had hit him when he went from not feeling well to being horribly ill. He presses in as close to the cat as he can, pressing his face against the black fur so that every time he breathes he can be reminded that Ragnar's there. If death comes, he won't be alone through it.

[allmydiredreams]

Babel has been in one of the unused offices back near Silent Hall. She was wandering around in there on the first day, blissfully unaware of the plague of blood, when something -- the Kashtta, probably, but she's not sure what ever sets any of these sorts of things off -- hit a trigger in her head. A trigger that's been pretty loose since she's come to the Kashtta anyway.

And so she may have spent the last few days in a ball in a corner of the room, stuck in a complete dissociative fugue and ranting to herself where nobody else can hear her. After being awake and aware and recording for a couple of days straight, not that she can tell how long it's been, she passed out.

She wasn't out of the fugue when she woke up, a few hours earlier, but she's more coherent, now. She can still feel everything, and it feels like the world is ending again, and that's instilled a need in her to find and fix and get out and get away and protect and--

She races out of the office, and eventually her bare feet find their way to the lobby, and wham. She's hit with the emotions from Luke, the sick feeling and the pain and possible-futures and just-pasts and she turns abruptly to him. It's not the usual surprised gasp, this time, but a grim, determined sort of look, a look that says she's getting him out of this. This isn't quite it, she can feel that much; it just feels enough like other its to make things confused and scared.

She gathers Luke up gently, though, shushing him. "This too shall pass, the possibilities aren't final yet, that doesn't come until much later," she says, trying to smooth down the fluff, trying to soothe the panic a little bit. "Things are just inside out for now. They'll revert."

Soothing might help a bit more if she made more sense. But the words aren't really what she's counting on to calm him down; the scritches will help more, she knows.

[calicoway]

It's less the scritches and more her presence that soothes the panic at first and fills him with a world of relief to have her near him again especially when he's so sure that these are his last moments. In her arms, he's able to come to grips more with what's actually happening, to remind himself that Brando is dead and those times have long since passed.

He'd been worried about her for those days that he couldn't find her though he tried. He'd been so worried that the initial shift to kitten at the start of the plagues was inevitable. There was too much going on that he didn't understand and a kitten never tries to understand. It's small, easily hidden, and its concerns are much more simple than that of a human, questioning his beliefs, knowing all possibilities, and capable of far too much emotion.

The worry doesn't go away all together though seeing that she's physically okay at least is a big relief to him. He can tell there are differences as he looks up at her face, blinking at the expression there. The words are not something he's capable of understanding in his current frame of mind though he can get the gist of them. She doesn't think this is his death. Luke rubs his face against her hand in an attempt to comfort her and purrs louder. The panic has lessened. The worry remains, but she's here and he's in her arms and everything is a little easier.