[ August Event ] Thatcher's Blight

[pumpkinhollow]

**Plain text version here.

THATCHER'S BLIGHT

FLU SEASON

CONTENT WARNINGS: Pandemic/quarantine, exaggerated rabies allegory, loss of faculties, medical, unsanitary, extreme violence, mental degradation and dementia-like symptoms, zombie-like behavior, guaranteed death.

-

The day that the plague comes to Marrow Isle has all the makings of a very peaceful day on the island. Incidents of Dirt Men and dragon sightings have been minimal, the crabs are in the process of receding back into the sea, and the weather has been lovely. Warm with a crisp breeze, not a cloud in the sky. The heat of summer is beginning to peter out and the smell of autumn begins to waft in the breeze, thoughts turning to apple harvests and colored leaves. It should have been a lovely day.

But let’s be honest, that’s always the first sign of trouble, isn’t it?

The market in town bustles as usual when a stranger walks into town. This isn’t inherently strange. New people arrive all the time, after all. What makes this particular incident strange is the fact that the unusual man enters from the wrong side of the island, seeming to come from the mountain rather than the shore. His features are strange, elongated uncannily and darkened in peculiar places as if being lit from directly above by a spotlight in a dark room. He is smiling broadly, his eyes bright but glassy, and he walks with a bit of a stagger as he tours every single shop and booth in the marketplace. He laughs loudly, touches everything he can, puts his hands on every person who will allow him, and lets out a rattling cough at random intervals. Sometimes the cough comes with blood. And if you ask him if he’s alright, he’ll laugh heartily and answer, “Oh, I’m fine, I just haven’t been feeling so well.”

When the man is detained and taken to a clinic, he goes without complaint, telling jokes the whole way and following any orders or requests with genial compliance. He’s hazy, but well-mannered and friendly. Any questions for the stranger, however, are met only with peals of near-drunken giggles, with only two exceptions. When asked what he is sick with, he will readily answer that he has something called “Thatcher’s Blight.” And when asked for his name, he will answer, “Patient Zero.” But by the time this information is passed to the radio and newspaper, people are already beginning to cough.

VIROLOGY

PROGNOSIS

Thatcher’s Blight is a viral infection that is transmitted primarily through body fluids, but it can also become airborne and will stick to surfaces that are not cleaned thoroughly. The onset is fast and aggressive, and the diagnosis is always deadly. At least until a cure is found. Thankfully, Pumpkin Hollow is staffed with medical professionals from all throughout time, whose job it will be to research the disease and create a vaccine. Below is a thorough overview of all of the details you’ll need OOCly, but ICly these things should be figured out organically.

Stage 1. Incubation + Initial Infection [ 2-6 HOURS ]

› Incubation is extremely short, and the virus begins manifesting symptoms quickly after initial infection, sometimes as soon as a mere two hours after contact. Patients experience strong flu-like symptoms, including exhaustion, nausea, fever, running nose, sore throat, cough, increased heart-rate, difficulty breathing, and mild delirium. A patient will become truly infectious when a fever forms, and will need to be handled with caution in this event. Infection from a patient in Stage 1 is not impossible, but notably lower than the later stages of infection.

Stage 2. Prodromal [ 16-24 HOURS ]

› Characterized by severely increasing symptoms as patients' bodies attempt to fight off the disease. Flu-like symptoms worsen, and any suffering the illness who were not bedridden will often become so. Confusion worsens severely; completely lucid patients will lose track of where they are, or who they are with. Emotional dysregulation begins, and short-term memory starts to degrade. Infection from a patient in Stage 2 is not impossible, and is increased from the low rates of Stage 1, but is also notably lower than the later stages of infection.

Stage 3. "Amnesiac's Recovery" / False Decline [ 30-38 HOURS ]

› So named due to a return of many of the patients' physical faculties, such as standing and walking without issue, but cold-like symptoms continue. Patients' short-term memory continues to degrade and general confusion remains severe, and many will enter a so-called "time loop" of their day-to-day actions: whatever action they were taking before the "loop" begins, they will repeat. If someone goes to the grocery store, they will pay, take groceries home, drop them, and return to do so again. Phone-calls will be made again, and repeat beat-for-beat.

Addressing the "loop" will often cause a patient to regain some lucidity, but they will often fall back into doing so once more if left to their own devices. As the False Decline moves into the next stage, patients will begin to experience sharp, often unprovoked bursts of rage, or a persistent level of frustration.

Stage 4. "Propagation" / Furious Form [ 40 - 52 HOURS ]

› Most often observed in carnivores and omnivorous species, as many herbivores/prey animals will simply attempt to run, hide, or collect with their herd (which frequently performs the same function). Notably, this stage for animals lasts a distinctly short amount of time, and transfer rates between animals are remarkably low compared to humanoid infection - the reason for this is unknown.

Patients seemingly succumb to a deep rage and attack any moving object in sight, track sources of sounds, and occasionally begin lashing out at inanimate objects. Dexterity is reduced sharply; patients with hands will no longer be able to grip doorknobs or use intricate tools.

No regard for physical well-being is maintained, and patients will undergo grievous injury to attempt their attacks. Attacks are never made with intention to kill, though fatality from wounds is possible; the intention of the "Propagation" period is to spread the virus as widely and quickly as possible. If one target is too difficult to reach, it will easily be abandoned in favor of an easier one.

Cognitive functions are scarce beyond seeing and hearing - however, "word salad" often comes from patients capable of speech, frequently containing thoughts or spoken words from their final moments of lucidity.

Stage 5. "Last Ditch Effort" / Paralytic Form [ 62 - 70 HOURS ]

› After the previous stage's "last push" is complete, patients' bodies begin to shut down. The body succumbs to the virus, leaving the afflicted catatonic and immobilized. In a final attempt to use the host's body to further spread the virus, however, it will use one last strategy: reaching out to the kindness of others.

The patient, despite no longer seeming physically aware of their inability to move, will call for help, plea to anyone they can see, or weep. Any contact with fluids by those attempting to assist will often result in immediate infection.

At the end of his account comes the worst of the news: Mr. Thatcher did not discover a cure for the blight that claimed his hometown. When the Royal Guard arrived to provide assistance, there was little town left; what was left aside was felled to prevent the spread from moving any further.

RESEARCH BEGINS

The first step of defeating the plague will be doing background research. Pair up with a research buddy and start looking into the history of Thatcher’s Blight. We will need threads where people locate the following information:

• The original medical records from physicians in Grier’s Glen regarding Thatcher’s Blight. (The info contained therein can be found OOCly in the “Prognosis” section, but finding it ICly will be important! Plus there’s a lil bonus info there.)
  
• The identity of Patient Zero.
  
• What Patient Zero is, exactly.

If you believe you are close to acquiring said information, reach out to a mod! If you are correct, you will receive a little digital info card. If not, you will get a clue.

There is a bit of a time buffer between the event’s beginning and when a vaccine can be developed, so use that time to work on this. It’s best if teams work on this simultaneously!

DEVELOPING THE VACCINE

This portion of the event, though being narrative, has a mechanical function as well! Thatcher's Blight cannot be cured before 8/18 (which will be a full course of the illness in the earliest townsfolk who contracted it). We will be asking for characters in the medical professions to be rolling a d20.

For a successful trial of the vaccine, a group of participating medical staff must collectively roll at least a sum of 40. Anything lower and the trial fails, and the test subject contracts the Blight as normal. (This means, for ease's sake, if one character rolls an 18, another character can roll a 12, and a third rolls a 10, that third vaccine trial will succeed!) To try again, they must acquire a new volunteer.

Up to 4 people with appropriate medical knowledge can roll per trial, and these are added the same as any separate trials towards that collective 40. Threads with non-medical people assisting medical staff can allow that character to roll at advantage (ex. if Watson and Mulcahy have a thread together, for all trials going forward, Watson can roll 2 dice and submit the higher roll).

The vaccine is cleared for use after 3 successful trials, and is able to be distributed to the rest of the town from there!

VIOLENT OUTBREAK

SOMETHING IN THE AIR

The first day is a tense sort of quiet. Every cough or sneeze is fussed over, and everyone in town seems to be holding their breath. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Pumpkin Hollow’s fantastical problems have always been bad, so no one’s under any illusions that this will be a walk in the park, but there’s always those same early whispers whenever a new horror rears its head. What are we in for this time? How bad will it get? But even as anxiety hangs in the air for the entirety of that first day, even as the flu-like symptoms take hold in seemingly record time and people’s minds grow hazy, there is an uneasy peace that the uninformed might even mistake for things being not so bad. Some victims are even beginning to look better after some rest.

But then, late into the second day, the looping starts. Infected people begin repeating tasks, such as doing the same chores over and over, visiting the same stores and purchasing the same items, and making laps around a specific area for hours. While the infected still seem more lucid, they can’t recall their previous “loops” and will get agitated and even violent if pulled away from their activities. Their loved ones and neighbors will also find them still very contagious.

And by the 48 hour mark, the bloodshed begins in earnest.

QUARANTINE CHAOS

The most jarring part of all of this is how quickly the situation devolves from tentative worry into screaming chaos as the third day dawns. The infected begin to rise from their slumber to lay waste to their neighbors, attacking with abrupt and unprovoked violence, breaking into homes and jumping people in the streets. They break skin, break bones, but they do not kill--- at least, not on purpose. At the sight of blood, they immediately abandon their quarry, because killing was never the point. The disease does not want to kill. It wants to spread.

Lockdowns begin swiftly, with the uninfected hunkering down in clinics and easily defendable communal buildings. The most viable shelters are Town Hall or Greymare Library for Downtown Hollow residents, and Prague Mill or Baker Ranch for Northwest Hollowites and those who live on the Bluffs. Leeds Estate is also quite defensible, but it appears that Dahlia shut up her doors and windows well in advance. Those who try to shelter in their homes find that luck is not with them.

However, these locations don’t have the means to maintain a population on their own. Supply runs for medical items and food will need to be organized. Who will brave the danger?

Additionally, each shelter is advised to keep a radio available. The radio tower built adjacent to Town Hall is running as often as possible thanks to Phil Connors and Cecil Palmer. A small militia has been formed by Gerry Keay to keep the radio tower defended at all costs, and he’s happy to recruit more help. Sending stones still function for communication, so it’s best to stay in touch and work together while the medical team develops a cure.

VAXXED UP [ CONCLUSION ]

When the research is done and the trials succeed, all it takes is a little more time and a few more materials to produce enough vaccinations for the whole town. And surely someone will set their sights, and their syringe, on Patient Zero.

Despite his general haziness, the moment he sees the needle, he will flee as quickly and as violently as possible. Give chase! Even with the vaccine protecting the islanders, it’s not safe to let this suspicious superspreader go on as-is. And once the island’s strange visitor is soundly subdued, all that remains is to vaccinate the townsfolk and quarantine the remaining unwell animals until the disease runs its course before Thatcher’s Blight is safely behind you.

Although you may want to give everything you own a good scrubbing, just to be safe.

SHELTER IN PLACE (OPT OUT)

Prefer to opt-out? No worries. As soon as Patient Zero arrives, Dahlia begins contacting as many people as she can confirm are healthy under the guise of a “meeting”, providing somewhere safe and comfortable to stay until all this blows over. Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty to do there.

SLUMBER PARTY

Word of the afflicted stranger wandering the town hasn’t even reached every ear before Dahlia begins approaching people and insisting they come up to her mansion. She doesn’t use sending stones or even the phone to issue these invites. She simply walks up to you, whether she knows you or not, eyes you suspiciously for a moment, and then informs you that your presence is needed at her estate as soon as possible. “Bring your essentials,” she says vaguely. “And don’t touch anything outside your house until you get to the manor.”

No, she’s not accepting recommendations, requests, or demands for who is allowed to come in. No, she’s not explaining why. No, your relationships with her or others don’t have any bearing either. She is choosing apparently at random--- although, those who know her well might be able to guess that her senses are keen enough to tell her who has been infected, and who has not. If you say no, she will not push, but you get the impression that you probably should not refuse, based on Dahlia’s serious demeanor.

By the end of day one, Dahlia’s gates are locked, and her doors and windows barricaded. Only then does she explain--- including the caveat that the doors will not open, come hell or high water, until the trouble is confirmed to have passed. No one in, no one out, no exceptions.

MURDER MYSTERY MANSION

As the days drag on, the waiting grows dull. Not the sort of dreary dullness of calm days spent whiling away the hours, but that sort of anxious boredom characterized by helpless dread. Loved ones are worried after. Attacks at the gates grow more frequent, and louder. Thankfully rations seem plentiful enough in the house of the wealthy heiress, but some of the things dwelling here need to eat things other than what can be found in the cupboard. And it can only be delayed so long.

At some point in the week and change that the plague darkens Pumpkin Hollow’s collective doorstep, Miles Upshur disappears from the manor for a day, evidently snatched up by something or someone he couldn’t see in the middle of the night. Blessedly, he resurrects inside the building, but now there is a new worry--- who, or what, killed Miles? The boredom is swiftly replaced by a whodunnit mystery, but is that better or worse?

For the sake of the timeline not conflicting with House Calls, this will resolve itself within the span of one full week, likely coming to full conclusion by the 23rd. Backtagging is always welcome and encouraged, however!

Comments

[itsjustabaddream]

Neil can be found in the aging lumber mill near the bridge into Lockwood Forest, guiding efforts to create a safe haven there. With practical magic, he is able to lift pockets of sawdust into sacks to create makeshift cots, and fuse boards to each other to create temporary rooms, including little wards for those who still aren't sure of their health status.

If you come to the shelter, Neil will greet you with a masked face and gloved hands. "Welcome. Before you come all the way in, please wash up thoroughly in the basins there and change clothes. We'll need to run a short test to ensure you're not infected. You're feeling well at the moment, yes?"

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis glances at Neil, stopping herself from rolling her eyes. He doesn't deserve her ire over the loss of people she cares for.

"I'm immune," she says dully, "But you are welcome to verify."

[itsjustabaddream]

"I know you are, my friend. But the disease can be carried on surfaces, and I have magic that can remove the virus from most everything besides a host," Neil explains, pricking a very ragged-looking thumb with a sewing pin for what is probably the thousandth time today. "And do forgive me for giving you the basic spiel. I've been saying it on loop all day. I'd joke that it almost feels like I've got the sickness with how many times I've repeated myself, but I'd be liable to be thrown out of the shelter."

The drop of blood from his fingertip is expanded into a ball of energy. "Arms out, please? It will only take a moment, and then we'll get you fresh clothes and a cot."

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis sighs, eying his poor thumb and wishing her healing could extend to others. perhaps then she might actually be useful instead of just a weapon to defend against her own friends.

"Yes, doing the same thing over and over again. It certainly makes one feel like they are going insane, even if they aren't."

She holds out both arms so he can work his magic.

"People are returning from the dead without the virus, but without any immunity either."

In case he hadn't realized that already.

[itsjustabaddream]

"Yes, I feared that might be the case. You can't develop immunity to a disease if it kills you, I suppose." Neil releases the ball of magic onto her hand, and it rolls itself over her arm, across her collarbone to the other side, seeming to scrub her of any contaminants.

"No black particles. That's a good sign. Still, best if you change clothes and wash up a bit, for good measure. Then you're cleared to come in," Neil informs her, sounding drained. "By the way, I know Zelda's attempting to organize a supply run. I'm sure you'd be an asset, if you felt inclined to go."

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis does her best to stay still during the spell, but it's a eerie uncomfortable feeling, so she's relieved when it's over.

"I did haul the leather pack over here so I can shift and carry things. It might be faster if I carry her too."

It's a fair idea that she'll need to follow up on. He probably has more ideas up his sleeve as well, yet she can tell, even through Elsie's ring, that her friend is distressed, not just tired.

"Neil," she says quietly. "Something else has happened, hasn't it?"

[itsjustabaddream]

"I---" Neil begins to protest, but he's aware of Valdis' abilities, and his shoulders slump in defeat. "It's been a long day, and--- Jon got here earlier, and now he's gone again. I'd been really looking forward to seeing him stay safe, but..."

[redlightgreenlight]

Of course it would have to do with Jon. She ignores the little twist in her stomach at the idea of Max being ill.

"He got sick?"

She's not sure if he had been forced to turn Jon away to keep everyone else here safe, but it would be exactly like him to sacrifice his own happiness and mental health to protect others. Perhaps that's why she holds such a strange grudge against Dahlia Leeds without ever having a proper conversation with the woman.

[itsjustabaddream]

"He was one of the first rounds of people who got ill," Neil confesses, going to lock up the shelter for the night so he can doff his protective gear. He walks and talks. "He'd been gone for three days. He came here right after he resurrected, but--- he'd infected his friend Martin. Who then conveniently came here in his final stages of the disease to die, calling for Jon."

[xiaoxiuya]

"Hm? Oh, I'm alright. Cultivators can't get sick," Shen Qingqiu murmurs, his expression distracted and gaze...distant. He doesn't seem to know where he is or what exactly is going on, nor is he prepared for a possibly lengthy stay in quarantine. It would not be inaccurate to guess that he simply happened to cross paths with a group of people heading for the mill and got swept up in their wake.

His face is very flushed, and he keeps rubbing at his temple as though his head aches.

[itsjustabaddream]

"...You don't look particularly well, friend. Have you been feeling feverish? This sickness doesn't exactly play by normal rules," Neil warns, eyeing Shen Qingqiu with suspicion.

[xiaoxiuya]

"Huh? I don't...I don't know," Shen Qingqiu muttes, visibly struggling to follow what should be a very simple conversation. He squints at Neil for a moment, processing, before the light of recognition suddenly dawns and he wonders out loud, "Doctor West? Don't you dislike me?"

[itsjustabaddream]

"I have no opinion of you," Neil replies. It doesn't matter if that's fully honest. "I need to run a test on you to determine if you have the Blight. Would you like to sit?"

[xiaoxiuya]

"That can't be true," Shen Qingqiu insists, with the recalcitrance shared by very young children and people with very high fevers. But he does sit down as he says it, so perhaps Neil can navigate this awkward situation without a fight? Although he might be tempted otherwise -- and who could blame him? -- when Shen Qingqiu follows up with, "I tried to beat up your, like, your boyfriend. Shouldn't you still be pissed at me? I'd be pissed at me, if I had a boyfriend someone tried to beat up. But I can't, because I'm straight."

[itsjustabaddream]

Neil opens his mouth to speak, then coughs awkwardly and shakes his head. "Of course you are," he replies, pricking an already thoroughly-pricked finger for another drop of blood. It creates a bubble of blood and magic, which Neil turns loose to roll over Shen Qingqiu's body. "It's fine. Just don't do it again."

[xiaoxiuya]

"Oh, I won't," Shen Qingqiu says earnestly, the conversation thankfully keeping him sufficiently distracted that he doesn't try to touch the blood drop or worse, brush it off. "I didn't understand before, but I get it now. He's like a vampire, right? One of those sad American ones, who spend all their time swanning around giant houses moaning how much it sucks to be a creature of the night, even though they're basically immortal underwear models. Only instead of blood he has to suck up people's fear, right? And the stories he makes them tell is like a really big straw."

After a moment he adds, "Maybe not so much the underwear model thing, he's kind of scrawny."

[itsjustabaddream]

"I can't say I know what you mean."

As expected, the blood bubble grows in size, and picks up a load of black particles. Neil's jaw sets. "...I'm afraid you've tested positive for the blight. I'm going to have to ask you to leave before you infect anyone else."

wildcard

[lovethyneighb_or]

He'd suspected it, of course. Mulcahy knows sterilization and he knows a breach of it--as if it was all difficult to tell, after being attacked. Little Peter did what he could, but he can only do so much. Busy as Mulcahy's has been, it's massively difficult to sit and wait in one place for several hours, but... if he's right, there's no use in spreading infection in the clinic he should be helping or on the supplies he should be carrying.

So he sits at the edge of the wood and waits. He watches the birds. Peter keeps him company.

It's when he starts to have trouble breathing that he clutches his sending stone. The nearest shelter is Prague Mill. He doesn't know anybody there except Neil West, but that's... fine, the more he thinks about it. They've spoken, but not enough to make this too harrowing yet.

He hopes.

But he's loathe to ask this of anybody. It's why he hesitates for so long, until he starts to feel a chill, and that is enough to steel his resolve.

"Mr. West?" he calls on the stone. "This is Francis Mulcahy. I... hate to ask of you this. I really do. But I think I may need a favor."

Re: wildcard

[itsjustabaddream]

Normally, Neil would politely correct the title to "doctor," being the proud man that he is. But the distress in his new acquaintance's voice gives him pause.

"Yes, I hear you, Father," he says. "What can I do for you?"

cw euthanasia talk

[lovethyneighb_or]

"I've ended up near your shelter. Prague Mill, yes? I..."

Steady, Father.

"I was attacked. I'm ill. If you can, I'd like to check if it's Blight. If it is, I would rather not waste my time lying in bed and becoming more dangerous."

He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath. Peter makes some kind of sad chirp. "If this isn't something you can help me with, please don't worry about it, but it would make things far easier."

[itsjustabaddream]

There's a long pause on the other end.

"...I believe I can help you, yes." Then, softer. "It won't hurt. If that helps."

[lovethyneighb_or]

"It does. Thank you."

There's a strained inhale.

"It's a little difficult to describe where I am exactly, but I can see the top of the mill and the main path leading to it. I'm on the forest treeline. You could probably spot me if you walked down far enough. I'll send my keyring spirit Peter up your way. He'll bring you to me. But don't touch him. He can't get ill, but I haven't got a clue if he's sterile."

[itsjustabaddream]

"Alright. I'm on my way."

Neil quickly heads out of the shelter, already wrapped up in plague gear that's far too hot for the weather. Whatever it takes to stay safe. He spots Peter with ease, and follows the little fellow to where Mulcahy can be found. He expects that if the priest looks as bad off as he sounded, there won't be a test necessary to prove what they both suspect.

[lovethyneighb_or]

Mulcahy is sat on the ground and leaning against a tree, masked and bundled in his own raincloak. Hearing footsteps alongside the jangle of keys, he perks up and gives a wave.

It's not the worst he's ever looked, but it's certainly not good. He's pale.

"Thank you for coming," he calls down the way. "And once again, I'm... I'm sorry."

cw: minor self-harm as a requirement for blood magic

[itsjustabaddream]

"I'm glad to help. It's--- not a happy duty, but it is important. You've nothing to apologize for."

Neil crouches a distance away, extending a hand in a fingerless glove forward by a bit. His hands look ragged, fingertips bled with a pin for the blood magic he uses to run sick tests and pull contaminants off clothes. Blood has so thoroughly stained his hand that a thin crust of red has worked its way into the grooves of his fingerprints. He presses a fingertip to his thumb, welling fresh blood to the surface.

"You'll hear a snap, and then everything will fall away. Take a moment to just breathe and let me know when you're ready."