acatalepsy_logs | Don't Skip Your Flu Shot

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Don't Skip Your Flu Shot

Who: Everyone! It's a mingle post for the first week of Struxta sickness!!
Where: All around the temple
When: During the first week of the sickness
Rating PG?? At most??
What: Curry, blankets and pillow forts, and other assorted sick things

[With the Struxta illness sweeping through the temple like a wildfire, and with so many new arrivals trying to get adjusted to temple living, it's probably no surprise that things around the Astoria's little pocket of space have gotten a little hectic. Feeling under the weather? Looking for something warm to soothe that scratchy throat? Just want to curl up underneath a pile of blankets and not move for like, seven hours or so? Never fear! A Mysterious Helper (TM) has you covered]

A. Curry in the Kitchen

[The kitchen smells extremely nice during lunchtime this week, the only meal of the day that isn't pre-prepared by the misty servants. Like the scent of coffee intermingled with complementary spices. Those who take the initiative to investigate will find something pleasant waiting for them. A few pots of fresh made curry and steamed rice; a few pots of miso soup (a. . . little on the salty side, sorry); and some freshly brewed coffee already poured into individual mugs, along with cream and sugar and whatever additives your heart desires. It's all strewn out across the counter tops with a handwritten note pinned against the wall above the stove:]

Help yourself, and get well soon.

[There isn't any sign of the mysterious chef when you enter the kitchen, and if you arrive near the end of lunch hour, some of the food and coffee miiiiight be a bit cold. But hey! This might be a good chance to mingle with some of your new coworkers who are also seeking out a warm meal to help quell some of their cold symptoms. Just please don't sneeze into the curry pot, thanks. . .]

[Lunch will be laid out in the kitchen every day at lunchtime for the entire first week of the sickness. Help yourselves!]

B. The Temple Hallways

[THERE ARE BLANKETS AND PILLOWS EVERYWHERE]

[. . . no, seriously. For some reason, it's like you can't even walk down a hallway without tripping over a bundled up blanket or a pillow. What's up with that! For the most part, they're normal bedtime accessories, although you may find a bundle of pillows and blankets stacked up into an ENTIRE PILLOW FORT if you're lucky.]

[Pinned to the walls of the hallways (not every hallway, but enough of them that it should be easy to find one of the signs without wandering for too long) are more handwritten signs:]

Whoever can build the tallest pillow fort will receive one (1) high five as a grand prize. Good luck. Blanket provider is not responsible for anyone accidentally falling asleep in the hallways and blocking your route back to your bedroom.

[Hm. Well, that's weird. Anyway! You can build a pillow fort if you want, grab some blankets to take back to your room, or. . . nap in the hallways. Or do whatever! They're all free for the taking. Maybe you could even team up with another Circle member to try and win that extremely coveted high five??]

C. Wildcard

[Don't feel like interacting with any of the above? That's okay! Make your own prompt based on the event stuff over here, or just use this post for. . . whatever you want! It's totally and completely open for mingling for new and old characters alike, so. HAVE FUN ♥]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ it's as much honesty as she can expect, and it's good enough - really, she'd asked simply out of habit, knowing full well that he likely was feeling no better at all, but she could.. hope. hope that mayhaps the blindness was a temporary blip. nothing to worry about overlong.

at least he does not seem worse. that is the best she can ask for.. ]

Careful, do not burn yourself.

[ she pushes his hands away so she can untie the canvas over the tray. on it there is a small ceramic pot full of stew, a large heel of bread, and another small pot full of ice. the usual. ]

I hope you are hungry, this stew is both fresh and delicious.

[ The touch of her hands to his brings the usual electric spark, even given the context, and that small contact is all he needs to start thinking about last night again. About her brow touching his, about the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips...and it's enough to send a blush surging into his cheeks. It's kinda nice, to have a distraction like that to keep his thoughts off his condition, but at the same time, is he ever going to stop blushing like this around her?

...No, probably not. ]

Oh, you bet I am. You know how hard it is to find somethin' to eat when you're a blind dude? [ His condolences to Iggy, once again. He's had help from others today but this is the first fresh, full meal someone has brought him and the smell alone — what can reach him through his stuffed nose, at least — is heavenly. ]

...Y'know, I'm startin' to sound like a broken record now, but...thank you for this.

[ He'll keep telling her, for as many times as he needs to. ]

[ alisaie smiles, a soft chuckle in her throat. there is a distinct difference between genuinely thanking someone for a kindness, and sinking low under the assumption that they do not deserve it. so long as it isn't the latter he's doing, she's more than happy to accept his thanks. ]

You're welcome. I hope it helps.

[ it's fresh and warm and tasty, however, so she can't imagine it won't. it won't cure what ails him, but a good meal always lifts the spirits and boosts energy. she sets the tray carefully nearby, guides his hand toward the spoon, breaks the bread into pieces, then sets to piling ice into a fresh tea towel. ]

[ His stomach chooses that moment to let out a screech of hunger. Yes, it will certainly help, even if it doesn't rid him of his illness. It's...strange, to be sure, to fill the spoon with stew and lift it to his mouth without being able to see any of it, and his process is slow to ensure he doesn't make a mess.

But he does manage to get the stew into his mouth without any trouble, chewing and swallowing with a hum of relief. ]

Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about...

[ He lets out a sigh, before filling his spoon once more. ]

Y'know, you never addressed the circles-under-your-eyes thing.

[ Did she rest at all?? ]

[ sightless and ill though he might be, when he gulps down mouthfuls of stew she smiles, contented. it's the best that she can ask for. ]

My eyes are looking fresh and vibrant as a spring daisy, I assure you.

[ she says with enough curl to her voice to establish clear sarcasm. she probably looks like hells warmed over, but alisaie hasn't bothered to look into a mirror in.. days, probably? if not longer. like as not adrenaline and caffeine are all that fuel her, but she cannot bear the thought of resting any longer than necessary while this disease carries on, worsening every day. ]

Never you mind about that. Finish your supper.

[ You can't tell him what to do, YOU'RE NOT HIS REAL MOM. But his real mom is also sick right now, so. ]

Not gonna have to con you into another nap, am I? [ He says jokingly enough, but there's real meaning behind his words, too. For as awful as he feels, for as much as he would love nothing more than to be cured right here, right now, he's...worried about her. About what she's putting herself through. About how it might affect her in the long run. ]

You should have some, too.

[ He reaches out, nudging the stew a little in her direction. ]

[ look, she will not be so easily conned this time. she might be a hundred times more exhausted than she was in the pillow mansion, but the stakes are also a hundred times higher. every moment she has, every wrung drop of energy must be funneled toward helping the ill, and finding a cure. there can be nothing else. the moments she has taken to sleep at all have been fitful and anxious, her mind unable to rest while she is so preoccupied with worry and fear. ]

I ate before I arrived.

[ it isn't a lie. she wouldn't lie to him, and she's never had much of a talent for deceit anyway, though truth be told she ate very little. like her mind, her stomach too is in knots, her appetite slashed.

gods, when will it end..?

leaning forward, alisaie presses her knuckles to his brow, temple, and cheek to test his temperature, but it seems no different. no worse, at least, but still.. ]

Good, isn't it?

[ The corners of his mouth turn down at her answer — he believes her, but he's certain that any rest or meals she has had haven't been relaxing and rejuvenating as they should be. If there positions were reversed he would likely be the same, fretting over his friends until he himself unraveled, but that won't stop him from doing his best to get her mind off things.

After all, he understands well how focusing too much on one thing can just...eat a person away. ]

Yeah, sure is. 'Course it is! You take such good care of me, Alisaie...

[ He means that in more than one way, of course, and he will as much no matter how many times it takes her to believe she's making a difference, even if he isn't cured. ]

[ though he means well, it has something of an opposite effect, though he cannot, thankfully, see how her expression falls. ]

I do only what I can.

[ which is not nearly enough. but prompto cannot want to hear that, not now, he's hurting, suffering, the last thing he needs is to carry the weight of her heart as well, atop everything else. thoughtlessly, she lifts a hand to card fingers through his hair. ]

Is there anything else you need?

[ He may not be able to see the way her expression falls, but he can hear it in her voice — that fear that despite all her efforts, it may not be enough. That they will still continue to get sicker and eventually...

No. He can't think like that, can't even entertain the possibility. They'll get better. They have to.

His eyes flutter shut at her touch, a soft sound moving in his throat, dipping his temple to her fingers before he can think better of it. Could he trick her into a nap again? Though even if he did, he doubts she would sleep well, as anxious and worried as she is.

Maybe he can't get her to rest, but maybe he can at least get her thoughts on other things. ]

Mind keepin' me company a little longer? I-I know you're busy, and all, I'd just...

[ He'd like to talk to her some more. Talking is one of the few things that hasn't been severely impacted by his absent sight. ]

[ it's only after he's leaned into her touch that she realizes what she's done, and thank the gods that he cannot see the flush that lights her face. gods.. she's ridiculous. he makes her ridiculous. why must he be so sweet? so good? so endearing? it's very frustrating, for her.

but she's got a good excuse to pull her hands away in gathering up his bowl and food tray, setting them aside on the nightstand. ]

I don't mind at all.

[ she's finished what errands she'd needed to first, under the assumption that he would want some company, after all. she knows him well enough to know that he does not like to be alone. first off, though, she's sliding the ice pack to its customary place behind his neck. ]

[ Ah...yeah, she was definitely just kind of stroking his hair. You know, Alisaie is proving to be a lot more tactile than he ever would have guessed. More...affectionate. But he's, uh, never seen her around other guys before. She's probably this way with all her close friends, those that have found their way close to her heart.

Not that...he considers himself close to her heart...

Anyway!! That's the answer he was hoping to hear, so as she takes care of the dishes, he eases himself back against the pillows, tucking one arm behind his head. ]

You can, um. Sit up here, if you want.

[ ///// ]

[ .... /////!!!

man, she feels bad thinking that it's so convenient that he can't see her blush, but she still thinks it. when he's able to see again she won't have anywhere to hide. ]

Oh..

[ well she can't just be like 'nah,' so alisaie scoots forward a bit to sit nearer to him, though she turns her legs off of the bed at least so she can kick off her boots. ]

Is.. is something on your mind?

[ i mean.. aside from the dying. ]

[ He might be able to see her blush, but she can definitely see his, and it's certainly not just from the sickness. He just...felt weird!! Leaving her to sit at the end of the bed while they talk. She should be able to relax, and if he's honest with himself...

Well, of course he wants her close. Nothing is going to happen — it's him, so of course it won't — but still, it...sounds nice. The thought of her sitting next to him, shoulder to shoulder, while they just...talk, for awhile. ]

I mean...a lot of things, I guess. Heh, after last night, you're like my...confidante now.

[ Gladio knows what he knows, now, but the others are still in the dark. Barring him...she is the only one who knows what he told her about last night. ]

[ well yeah, it's definitely weird to sit on opposite sides of the bed and talk, it only draws attention to the fact that you're attempting to stay far away from one another on a bed, which then highlights why you're attempting to stay far away from one another on a bed, and..

she's done thinking about it, okay!! she's just going to lean back against the headboard with her knees drawn up and do everything but think about it. ]

I.. suppose so.

[ she says through a chuckle, weaving her fingers together over her knees. last night was.. powerful, to say the least. she learned so much about him, and the distance between them closed - both emotionally and.. physically. she's not forgotten how near they were. ]

I owe you an apology, for trying to take your wristband from you. I was impatient.

[ Prompto is quick to shake his head, to absolve her of any guilt she may be feeling. ]

Nah, you had no reason think it was anything special.

[ It's so strange, to be talking about this, at last, to let it air out and be acknowledged, to not bear the weight of this secret upon his heart alone. It's...still terrifying, and a part of him can't help but think that as soon as she learns more about his origins, she'll be too repulsed to remain near. But...she'd told him he would try to see his own value, and so that's what he'll do.

Idly, his left thumb drags over his right wrist, over the numbers inked into his skin there. ]

Kinda curious, though...if I let you take it off then, would you have asked about it?

[ Maybe he created a problem out of nothing. Well — it wouldn't be the first time. ]

I have no idea.

[ she answers, honestly, her brow drawn. ]

I might have, though I would have no reason to think it any more than a simple tattoo.

[ the shape and meaning of something like a barcode is utterly foreign to her, after all, it's not as if they have anything like that on hydaelyn. all of the allagan and garlean technology she's encountered has been far more advanced even than that, but she's no engineer, regardless. there are no checkout scanners in eorzea.. ]

[ He hums quietly, shallowly, his aching throat too inflamed to allow for any sounds from deep within his chest. He's wondered before if he could pass it off as that, as a strange but ultimately harmless tattoo, but even in the crown city, he'd been too worried about it being recognized for what it was. What if someone identified him as a product of the Empire when he was just a kid?

No, his parents were right to hide it, and he was right to go along with it. It...it would have only led to more questions, and...

His head dips in a nod. ]

...Wish it was. It's...who I am. These numbers...they're mine. It's how the Niffs know which of their, um...units I was.

[ It was the only name he'd been given at birth. It wasn't until he was adopted that he was given the name Prompto. ]

I don't remember ever being there. They...got me out when I was just a baby. [ Why him, he still doesn't know — but that's an existential crisis for another day. ] But I still had this mark. I knew it meant I was different, that I didn't belong, so I've just...always kept it hidden.

[ It was just easier that way. ]

[ she listens quietly, and while his words make her jaw tighten with quiet fury, she tries to be patient. she tries to understand. he's such a softhearted boy, and this certainly explains why he's always seemed so quick to doubt himself, to put himself down, but it's not something she can tolerate. it's not something she will tolerate. ]

Just because it is a part of you does not mean that it defines you. You must know that.

[ she says, not unkindly, but with a familiar firmness to her voice that he has no doubt heard many times before. ]

Too many are born with expectations upon them, but it is only you who can decide who you are. Should you think yourself lesser for the circumstances of your birth, that is your choice, and no other's. To think that people would judge you for it, especially your friends - it does them a disservice.

[ At her rebuke, he actually smiles, the corner of his mouth tugging up with unmistakable fondness. ]

Heh...yeah, I know. Believe it or not, you're not the first person to tell me that. [ He laughs, a breathy sound that turns quick to a cough. ] Guess I'm just...not great at reminding myself that.

I...I know I'm not one of them. And...that I let my fears and doubts control me sometimes. [ It's why he's always had such a hard time making friends. He's so afraid of losing them, of being alone that he becomes his own self-fulfilling prophecy. ] I actually...told my friends about it just before I got here, and they accepted me without question.

[ Then, his smile fades, just a bit. ]

But then...we got here, and...they didn't remember that. They didn't remember a lot of the bad stuff that happened.

[ his answer, at least, soothes her doubts - she'd half expected him to argue it with a thousand buts and excuses, but he doesn't, and that is a relief, however minor. it might not be a giant leap forward, but it's a step, it's prompto acknowledging that though his doubts might scratch and gnaw, they are not the truth. ]

Whether they remember or not, they will accept you again, just as they have before. Of that there can be no doubt.

[ she frowns, thoughtful for a moment. ]

If you cannot trust yourself, then at least trust them.

[ She's right. He knows that, of course, objectively, when he allows himself the distance to see things logically rather than emotionally, as usually does. His friends are still the same as they've ever been — if he told them before and they were fine with it, they'd be fine with it again. But still, fear has ever been a powerful force in his life. It has controlled him for so long, and damage like that isn't easy to undo.

But he will find a way. He believes her. He believes his friends. They believe he can be something bigger, something better than himself...someone important. And if they believe so, then he will believe it, too.

He exhales a long breath, silent for several moments, just listening to her breathing. His eyes are shut and so she might think he's just nodded off again, but soon enough he speaks up once again, choosing his words carefully. ]

You know...I could say a lot of the same things to you.

[ If she's going to call him out, he's going to call her out right back!! ]

[ .. well that certainly isn't the answer she expected. alisaie's brows lift high, and she looks toward him quizzically, though of course he cannot see her. it's habit. ]

What.. what do you mean?

[ what is he trying to say??? ]

I mean...I keep telling me how much you're helping me, how big of a difference you're making, but...you don't believe it, do you?

[ Even if she hasn't said as much explicitly, it's easy enough for him to piece together. If she thought what she was doing was enough, she wouldn't be breaking herself down like this. As much as he appreciates all she's doing, both for him personally and for everyone by searching for a cure, if it comes at the price of her burning out, then it isn't worth it.

If she tells him to believe what his friends are telling him, then she needs to practice what she preaches, too. ]

You're barely sleeping, you sound like you're barely hangin' on, and all this — it's taking its toll on you. But...we're still sick, right? But even if we are, it's okay. You're doing enough. More than enough. With everything you're doing...I'd be in way worse shape without you.

I..

[ for several long moments, she's.. speechless. prompto plays the fool, but he's more perceptive than he's given credit for, and that artists' eye of his doesn't miss much. at least not when it comes to his friends, on whom he is generally so hyperfocused.

still, it's.. hypocritical, maybe, but this - this isn't the same thing. it's not comparable. ]

How.. how can it possibly be enough? Simply making you comfortable is not enough. It does not fix the problem, it does not make you well, only slaps a pitifully small bandage over a mortal wound. I would sacrifice every moment of sleep if it meant finding a cure.

[ she sounds assured as always, but there's something in her voice that sounds shaken. ]

It isn't.. it isn't the same thing at all.

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