2019-11-12 - Fighting the Flu

Alexander says, "Oh, no, not again," Alexander muttered to himself before flopping into bed; although the season has turned enough that maybe this time it's just a cold, and not the goddamned magic flu.

And then he opens his eyes, clad in his most comfy and threadbare sweats, and he's in the Safeway, and doesn't quite remember how he got there. He scrubs a hand down his bleary face, and starts shuffling towards the medicine aisle, grumbling to himself under his breath."

In a twist, Sutton is actually wearing a tank top that says FUCK OFF, along with a pair of short-shorts that are probably actually just boyshorts. The tank is white with black lettering, and the shorts are black. Still wearing more than a Hooters waitress. Her hair is crazy from bedhead. "Oh fuck this again." Does she stop to consider it might be a dream because why would she be in public dressed this way in November? No. No she doesn't.

Rusty glances around, pushing back sticky hair and the edge of his hoodie. He is drawn to the medicine aisle and the noise. "Hey, hey...did I get locked in?" He asks as it rounds the corner into the aisle.

Clarissa doesn't remember coming out here, blearily looking around and rubbing a hand on her face. She's wearing a matching set of silky pjs, a tank top, pants, and bathrobe set, along with some slippers of the same type, all dusky rose in color. Her hair has been left down and for once it doesn't look perfect, actually mussed from sleep, "...no one in this town ever actually completes their job," she mutters as she passes by some of those abandoned boxes, immediately heading towards aisle 6 not just for medicine but because there might be a manager there to complain to. "Why is it small towns don't think anyone stays up past ten?"

As he got into bed, August muttered, "You have got to be kidding me." And now, he's here, in...the Safeway, which he rarely goes to, except for things which aren't food. So, not often. He peers around himself. He's in a dark purple, slub t-shirt, dark gray UW branded sweats, a black hoodie, and some hard soled, shearling slippers. He peers as he spies a familiar slouch. "Alexander?"

It has been ages since she has been pulled into a Dream, but she recognizes the signs when Isabella finds herself in a Safeway, clad in the things that she remembers wearing, but has probably burned, after her bout with the flu - pajama pants with My Little Ponies all over it (it's Twilight Sparkle, shut up) and a tanktop with her hair loose and wild around her head because all she wanted to do today was sleep.

She doesn't curse. She normally doesn't. But seeing where she is? It pulls one out easily. "Fuck me running," she sighs, just as someone near her says something similar. Green-gold eyes fall on a familiar blonde head. "Sutton? Oh thank god."

Alexander stops at the sound of someone calling his name. He turns and offers a sleepy smile at August. "Hey. I guess you needed to make a run, too..." he trails off a little, with a frown. How exactly did he get here? And he looks around, and sees more than one familiar face. "This doesn't bode well." Although, his eyes linger on Isabella's pony pajamas. And not even his confusion and grump can quite hide the grin. He's not going to forget these.

Rusty never really realizes he's in a Dream right away. It doesn't click despite a fair bit of knowledge on the subject. When others are appearing, this is when he gets the inkling.

Andy appears in the grocery store and not only does he not know how he got here but he doesn't really care, you never do in a Dream. Nope, he's here looking for some dog food. Those dogs sure go through some dog food. He's wearing a pair of warm flannel pajama pants and a cheap white t-shirt with the words "what do you call a group of three white men?" on the front and "A podcast" on the back. He stops and looks around uncertainly. "Does anyone work here? This place is a mess."

Sutton, and August, and Alexander! Relief is in her, catching sight of these familiar faces. Isabella's lips part to speak, but then the latter's face changes. He's grinning. There's a furrowed-brow look at him before she follows his stare down to her pajamas, and she lets loose a little shriek. "I thought I burned these?!" she cries, because they were so gross by the time that she was freed of the flu that she had to dispose of them. And she points at him, and that shit eating grin. "Don't make me strip in front of all these people!"

"Hey, Bella." Sutton rubs a hand over her face, then grabs some peanut M&Ms off a nearby rack. Her gaze drops to the other woman's PJs and she rips open the candies. She eyes her for a long moment. She grins, but says nothing about it. She's thinking it though. "This is weird." She may be a little buzzed. "Kinda looks like a zombie apocalypse set." There are a couple of beats. "Mm. I want a Twinkie." Strippers, what?

Lilith is wearing one of Byron's undershirts and panties, but it's a longish shirt on her, okay guys, no pants is kind of fine, kind of like Sutton's booty shorts over there. Her hair is wild like she's been tossing and turning with the dread of a sneeze turning into a worry over getting sick again. Talk about PTSD. But it really did suck the first time around, it's not something she wants again. At first, while orienting, she looks a little annoyed to be in a grocery store because she doesn't like grocery shopping and the last thing she wants to do is dream shop. But then it kind of kicks in with an 'oh' inside her, the placement and familiar faces in their own sleep and slouch gear triggering the idea that maybe she should be thinking 'oh shit' in the scary way instead of the pissy way.

Suddenly, she remembers who she went to sleep next to while looking around at the others and coming around in bare feet, so instead of trying to figure things out, the first thing she does is spin to check for Byron, "Byron?"

"On the long list of shit I don't do at 2am, running to Safeway is at the top." Well, unless Eleanor needs something. Or probably if Alexander or Itzhak asked him to. Or...okay fine it's not that strange. August shakes his head, Sutton, then Isabella. Wariness replaces his irritation. Last time he had this sort of thing happen when he was feverish, it was bad. Really bad.

If anything, if Byron were to come down with something, it's a good thing that it's some time after the Festival was over. However, there's this wariness that comes over him after the first sneeze before. It's probably nothing, but it reminds him of that time, not long ago, when the town was stricken by flu.

So when he's awoken, dressed in a baggy, but comfortable sweatshirt and pajama pants, he doesn't remember waking Lilith up to make the trek to the store for meds. However, they both happen to be here, so he must've right? Or at least, he spots her first. All the familiar faces in the wee hours at Safeway, of all places, is a curious thing and as he looks over the flu medication, he notices that some of the others seem to have the same idea. "Great. Looks like the town is infected again." He murmurs to Lilith.

Aidan goes to Safeway all the damn time, so this is not a strange place to be! Although usually he's not wearing boxers covered in elves riding candy-canes like jockeys, a t-shirt extolling the wonders of the Mystery Hole, and a long fuzzy bathrobe. Or at least, usually not the bathrobe and if there others are there they've at least got sometimes else for company. So that's a little weird. He's worn the big fluffy monster-slippers out before though so hey at least that fits. And... people. Lots of people for this time of night! He'd know; he's the random wee hours in need of Pop-Tarts type. "...hey," he greets the world at large, aiming a smile at the nearest of them, one that brightens further when he spots Alexander. "Hey, Mr. Clayton."

Since there's people here, Clarissa doesn't even think twice that something might be wrong, though she does sniff at the type of company she's surrounded by, "Mister Clayton. Miss Reede. Sergeant. Is this a usual thing, restocking while clientele are still in store?" Maybe it's a Gray Harbor thing. "I--" And then she stops. Stops speaking and stops moving and stares. "...I really need to speak to a manager about the conditions of this store!"

Alexander snickers at the threat, and his grin only widens. "Isabella, my love. That's your choice. I'm going to enjoy it either way," he moves closer to her to bend in and press as kiss on her forehead. "But," he whispers, "I'd keep your wits and clothes about you. This doesn't feel right." He casts another look around. "Thorne. Ms. Winslow. This is gett...ah," a nod to Aiden. "Hello again. How are--"

And then there's a giant blob floating down the aisle, and he has to stop and think about that for a bit. "Virus? Bacteria? Which causes the flu, again? Virus."

Andy's shirt makes Rusty laugh. "Mine usually just me. So the shirt's a lie." He says, with good nature. The blob doesn't come into Rusty's view until it nears the Medicine aisle where he was. Was because the make bails to get out of the way. "What the fuck!? What--what?" He just can't even deal with that.

Sutton shrieks and flails and her peanut M&Ms go flying. Rainbow colored candies clatter down on the floor and skitter this way and that way, rolling under, pinging off of, and generally making a mess. She tries to wipe her hand off, but she doesn't have a lot of clothes on, and just wipes it down her leg instead. Blargggh. "What the fuck. Why you gotta lick me. PERSONAL BUBBLE, you nasty ass virusy lookin' scrub." Yeah, you can tell she's hungover because of the rant that follows a little kiss to her finger. She backs up so fast, she smashes into a display of Red Vines. Hand sanitizer. She needs hand sani — fuck it. She needs a bucket of alcohol. Barefoot Sutton takes off in a foot-slapping dash.

Sutton's grin? Also gets a groan. "I mean it, I'm this close to-- " Isabella falls quiet when Alexander's taller shadow dwarfs her own, lashes shuttering at the kiss on his forehead. "It's not," she tells him quietly. "It's a Dream, it has to be." She presses a quick kiss on the underside of his jaw, before everything else happens at once. As the blonde paramedic is harassed by...what is that, she makes a face. The investigator's query is noted. "So what do we do? Try to find a flu shot and stick a needle in it?" She starts to look for the pharmacy, a resigned look thrown to Byron and Lilith when she sees them. "Hey guys."

With things happening in the other parts of the store, Byron will pause in his medication rummaging to glance in that direction, but he can't really get a good view from this angle. With Alexander and a few others heading towards them, he just has to sigh. Hadn't he exchanged texts with Clayton today already? Isn't that enough? Now, with so many familiar faces here, it's becoming just a little suspect. Then again, it's a small town, but at this hour? "Clayton.." He murmurs, then spying Isabella standing near by. "Well then, fancy meeting all of you hear." This is said in the most sarcastic of ways.

That disgusting odor catches his attention, drawing his gaze in the direction of the sickly blob thing, probably.

August grimaces at the sight of the orb, outright winces when it...licks...Sutton. He moves to follow Alexander to the medicine aisle. Well, this is already bad in so many ways.

Lilith makes a huge sigh at Byron like she just cannot deal with any of this right now and says with a reaching slip of hand over to his before braving the aisle itself they're on and letting him rummage, "Let's get stupid medicine then, if there is any, then go back to sl-- uh." Oh hey, there's a floating blob germ. The tousled brunette's eyes widen, but hey, there's Isabella and Alexander too, so stupidly, she just waves with her free hand while staring at the thing, "Hi. That's disgusting. I might cry."

Thankfully, she doesn't actually sound like she's going to cry, but everyone present probably gets that at the moment. There's a tighten of hand on Byron's as she reels a backpedaling step.

"Well, I mean, it's a 24-hour store, they kinda gotta restock while people are around or they'd never get anything back on the shelves," Aidan replies to Clarissa with an easy shrug, and looks about to respond to Alexander when both the question and whatever answer there'd have been get cut off by Giant Blob. "Uh... ew," he says, making up in vehemence what the remark lacks in eloquence. "Flu shot sounds like a good idea? Or maybe like... all the vitamin C and zinc." He takes a glance around for the vitamin aisle, pausing briefly to note to Isabella, "Cool pants," but drifts after the others toward the medicine in the meanwhile. Vitamins are probably near it anyway, right?

Alexander gives Isabella's PJs a significant look before murmuring in her ear, "Just use unicorn magic on it."

And then he bounces back out of physical retaliation range, grinning way too much for a Dream, and resuming his movement around the corner. "Thorne," he responds blandly. He gives Byron and Lilith a quick once over, reassuring himself that they haven't already been slimed. Like poor Sutton. "It's a giant virus." He stops. "Three giant virii. Considering how they reproduce, you probably don't want them treating you like a giant cell." He looks around, to see if he might find some anti-viral medication on the nearest shelves. It can't...hurt, right?

"Ah," says Andy, looking at the horrible whatever it is. "Well. I know what this is. It's one of those Chathoo- Chatoo- Cathooloo things, right? I've read about them." Andy reaches down for a the gun that isn't there, then notices that he's wearing his jam-jams while at a grocery store and facing down with a Cathooloo thing. "Oh. Shit." When he sees other people he calls out, "Watch out! That's a thachoochoo thing! They're very antisemitic!" He starts toward the others, pausing only to duck down aisle 4 for a couple of bags of Gravy Train dogfood, the dogfood that comes with the taste of gravy that dogs love(?)

Clarissa gives Aidan a disapproving look since when did logic ever derail a good complaint? "I suppose," she doesn't sound like she finds it agreeable however. Like everyone else she is gravitating to the medicine aisle, stopping at the top of it when she sees more of those things there. She takes a breath, closes her eyes and says, "one, two, three, wake up!" And then she opens her eyes and frowns. She closes them again and says louder, "ONE, TWO, THREE, WAKE UP!"

"A giant virus?" Byron repeats what Alexander says. Nope, this is definitely a Dream. Feeling Lilith's hand squeezing at his with her attempts to try and withdraw him from this, more than likely, pretty gross situation that will soon befall all of them, he doesn't put up much resistance. Especially not after seeing infectious looking blobs. A quick look is given the others in their vicinity, so, so many familiar faces. With all the medication that he was going to purchase, probably, all opened up and strewn all over the place, he's wearing an incredibly disappointed look on his face. "Alright, so in order to get out of this, we have to go through." It a mantra that he's learned by now. Not that he likes this idea, turning to Lilith, "This is probably gonna suck, babe. But we'll get through-- hopefully, without ending up flu-ridden in the process."

"Doesn't work like that," Alexander tells Clarissa, helpfully. He's a helper.

Alexander's whisper widens Isabella's eyes, because how dare. And he knows her well, because her reaction is instantaneous. A hand reaches out, grabs a package of cotton balls and hurls it at him as he dances away. "Ohhhhh, you're going to pay for that later." Threats that are not idle in the very least, though by the way she's biting down on her lower lip, she's trying to suppress a grin. When the other blobs are spotted, she starts backing away and looking for things that she could use. "They look really gross, and they lick things." She looks absolutely aghast at the idea.

"That might not be good," August says to Alexander when he hears the voice. He grimaces at Clarissa's method. "I appreciate the effort, but, that's not going to work."

Rusty is kind frozen in fear at the sight of these things. It's almost coming together. Dream. This is a Dream. He looks around for any antiseptic available to him and he will chuck it at the trio at the end of the aisle

"Motherheiffer!" Sutton's yell comes from an aisle that is not the medicine aisle. "Don't let it touch yooooooooou —" Her cry of warning trails off as she follows her dream logic and skitters into the... LIQUOR AISLE. So she can't see the others, likely, because who else would hightail it for the bourbon in this situation? To be fair, Harry Sutton's only been yanked into a dream perhaps twice, and no one's explained this thoroughly to her.

"I think I should maybe set them on fire." Lilith knows the leaning at this point to try and figure out a route to get it to stop or get the hell out of dodge, it's a natural inclination. Those things are disgusting and now there's more and she can't do a lot more than stare before that input. There's a tinge of girly 'ew' dread in her eyes too, of all things, snot and spit apparently icking the woman who yanno, flays people open here and there.

Her spoken plan indicates her deeper inclination, though. Kill it with fire. She looks around after as if making a mental census to reactions. Fire is great. This is gross. Her fingers curl on Byron's with pulse, though, at his reassuring. Then things kind of go to shit on others.

August looks askance at Lilith. "I'm worried that they'll just catch on fire and run around setting everything else on fire."

Alexander gives August a wry look as that fourth germ slides in behind them. "You know what I was saying about not using abilities unless we really need to?" He grimaces. "I'm prepared to suspend any lectures for the next, uh, twenty minutes or so." Then gestures to Lilith. Right. That. He lifts a hand and static electricity crackles.

A wail of great suffering issues from the direction of the liquor aisle. "Who would do that." Sutton's definitely just come upon the scene of a crime: the liquor aisle's all fucked up. She sniffles. "Why is the booze gone?" Oh, the humanity.

"Sutton, I can't see you!" Isabella cries, because she's not with them and they have to stick together - now's not the time to separate! And despite herself and the fact that she just thought that it's probably a bad idea to separate, she's already trying to run for the liquor aisle, and trying to grab something she can use - like an umbrella. Drugstores have them!

"Also pinching yourself doesn't work and neither does getting someone to slap you," Aidan notes to Clarissa, because he's a helper too! He glances after Andy with some confusion about the cathooloo thing, muttering, "Well, I'm pretty sure they're not antiseptic..." A glance behind them as they're boxed in, and his hands curl and release. "You, um. You really don't wanna set Safeway on fire, it gets shitty," he advises Lilith, sounding more than a little reluctant about it, "Let's try the other shit first. Like. Cut 'em? Or maybe they disintigrate!" If fire's her first thought she's presumably like him, right?

"Isabella!" Alexander is instantly distracted when she runs, his head whipping around. "Goddamnit," he mutters under his breath, but doesn't go charging after her. For one, he's pinned in. But his features twist in consternation.

"I'll find you!" Sutton yells back, hearing Isabella perhaps. She skitters through the store, trying to find a good aisle to go down, one not too terribly littered with boxes and debris, perhaps one with a weapon. Like a bat or a curtain rod or a baguette.

Clarissa opens her eyes and glares at Aidan, August, and Alexander and hell, Andy too in order to get all the A names in one glare, "Ugh, why can't I ever dream of interesting things and places, like Paris in the spring. Or skiing in the Alps. Or anything other than Gray Harbor." She does glance nervously down the aisle at those blobs, "Maybe I should have checked the expiration date on that brie."

Byron can't tell if these things can see them or not. Sure looks like they can as the gross blobs move to box them in. He, like the others, try to keep their distance, but now they're all backing into one another as they are trapped in this one damn aisle without any good virus killers in hand. "Don't touch them?" Byron doesn't have much of a choice right now, his own hands beginning to spark with electricity. For all he knows, burning the germy bastards is ideal, but they /were/ in a store with many many things that could possibly burn that are not germy-- though by now, they are probably contaminated.

"I'll be fine!" Isabella shouts over her shoulder at Alexander as she moves to try and get to the liquor aisle, because it definitely smells like several bottles have been shattered, on top of the diseased stench. "Kick its ass!" Pause. "Love you!"

On the way, she keeps looking. Where the hell are the umbrellas?! Or a mop, a rake, anything? Matches? "Not gonna lie, the urge to set everything on fire is rising quickly," she mutters. She's seen all that alcohol on the floor.

"You recently dreamt of a stroll through the woods," says Andy helpfully in response to Clarissa's lament. Seeing that the one thing is actually one of a number of things, he pats at his side again. "I wish I dreamed of my gun. But not in a weird way."

Lilith almost doesn't listen to August's reason and concern because heat starts to shimmer with flare up around herself like reflex when the things close in and it's looking apt to get close to Byron's flanking side. But then Aidan speaks up too, and the brunette does smell the alcohol in the air that Isabella is seeing, so it all drops off. When she exerts, she looks at the man nearby instead and grits her teeth to try and will the moment a little more his way for the better, unsure how to attack yet without friendly literal fire.

Then she suggests to August and Aidan, "Cutting off the lickers?" Ew. Seriously.

August snaps his fingers and points at Lilith. "That'd be better." But first, he's going to give Alexander a little something extra, since the lightning is much less likely to be an issue than them lighting up the entire Safeway. ...even this weird, Other Safeway.

"Eh. Fuck it." Rusty says and /charges/ into electro-germ warfare. He doesn't use his abilities much but this is not a normal situation. This is battle.

Clarissa is about to say something really awesomely cutting to Andy at his walk in the woods remark. Just the best comeback that anyone has ever heard! But then one of those purple blobs bumps into her and spits at her and she shrieks, backing up with both of her hands up, "AHHHHHHHHHHH GET AWAY FROM ME!" She screams, sounding both terrified and completely grossed out, "THESE PAJAMAS ARE DESIGNER!"

There's a weird, popping, crackling sound coming from around Alexander as little bursts of electricity pop and snap up from his skin. He gives August a surprised look; that boost feels weird. But then he grins, and focuses on one of the blobs. His hand comes out, and a blue-white streak of electricity arcs from it, snaking through the air to ground itself in the oversized germ's body. It goes well!

And then the damned thing divides. "...oh hell."

People telling him not to touch those things... well Byron does just that. It's what's in his arsenal. As the germs move in closer, he clenches his hands into fist and launches a strike at the nearest thing attempting to lick at him, sending a shock through their blobby germ-bodies. "Stay behind me." He mutters to Lilith, trying to act as her physical shield.

August blinks as Alexander...barely damages the blobby virus thing, and just makes more blobby virii. "Well. Shit." He looks to Lilith and Aidan. "Hang on. Cutting it, with our Gift, it might just make more." And what about their fire--will that make more? Which are on fire?

Attacking a germ. Rusty has had stranger Dreams. He zaps one and seems surprised it actually hurt it. A little. "Oh. Oh shit. I--is it looking at me?" His hands crackle and spark and he goes at it again

Andy directs a pair of zapping fingers in the direction of the closest germling, but apparently approaches it a little too casually and fails to connect. "Well, shit." He looks down at the bags of dog food he has under one arm and really weighs possible death-by-germ-monster against free dog food. But when he hears Clarissa's angry squawk he turns, sees she's being harassed and drops the dog chow to go charging in her direction. "Clarissa!"

"Is that what hap-- but maybe electricity and heat just... heat? Because it's a virus or something and fevers and... hell. The lickers are the outside, though, maybe it's just disabling the-- screw it, let's see." Lilith supposes to August and Aidan as if trying to reason through what to actually do next. And she's so icked out by the idea of these things touching her, honestly, she's a rare state of shameless about girly hiding behind Byron instead of trying to keep him from harm's way. Well, kind of. She still tries to disable the thing by taking off one of the extending snot stick licker things that's closest. That and you don't know what it'll do until they try, so there it is, the psychic test slash.

And when she does that, she braves up enough and listens to instructions enough at the same time to at least look around Byron for some sense of precision to her lash out attack.

What did Mum always use to fend off nasty invaders when Pop left the sliding glass door open? A broom handle. Where is that aisle? Sutton rarely tidies. An empty swiffer will do for nasty blob clocking. She zooms down the cleaning aisle entirely ignoring all the actual cleaning products. Why? MISSION. And also? Hangover!

"Shit," Aidan agrees with August, as the germ he slashed at turns into two, "...it might just be the electricity?" 'cause his got zapped too, right? "'cause it didn't turn into three of 'em..." Bright side! Right? "Fire might make more too though then. And last time I set shit on fire in here there was this-- it wasn't pretty."

Clarissa shrieks again and skitters back as little bits of electricity burst from her fingers, but not quite close enough to actually hit the germ. "ARE YOU THE MANAGER?!" She shouts out at the voice over the loud speaker, sounding pretty hysterical, "I HAVE A COMPLAINT!"

She is not capable of zapping things - just moving things. So when Sutton tells her that she'll find them, Isabella sighs. "Ugh, god, what do we even-- " The scent of ozone fills the air when flashes of light dominate aisle six. She pivots and stops, indecision warring on her face. In the end, it's really the oh hell that pulls her back in, peeking around the bend to watch the chaos happening and the blobs...wait. There's more of them.

"What? Really?!" What in the fresh hell is this? The first one nearest Alexander that opens its mouth? She acts on instinct, like it's the most natural thing in the world, to mentally seize a shitton of cotton ball bags from the other side of the aisle and sends it flying straight into the maw that attempts to lick Alexander. And she just stuffs it in there, willing it to suffocate, or at least not get its tongue moving around anymore as it should. Her breathing is elevated, her eyes wide and wild, because the taste of it is familiar and it feels like coming home.

August watches the two new ones form from the damage. "We have to focus them. Don't attack separately." Except that's going to take forever; these things are tough, and now, there's a lot of them. He sighs, looks to Alexander. Peers, because he heard Sutton around here somewhere, and isn't she a paramedic? "Ideas?" he asks.

"Mrs. Robbins. Not helping!" Alexander narrowly dodges the foul blob targeting him, and for his part, doesn't appear to do...anything. Really. He just stares at it, but it starts rotating in a sort of passive manner. "Don't zap the nearest ones too you. If you can lock them down and keep them from attacking, do that, and the ones who can't, focus on one. Otherwise, they'll just fucking divide." And then Isabella is stuffing one with cotton, and he can't help a snort of laughter.

"Shit," Aidan mutters again as the germs multiply -- but they did get one of 'em down! "Okay, if we all aim at--" he breaks off, nods at August. "Yeah, that, everyone at once? Dead ones don't multiply. Or um. Is there. We could..." he looks around. "Is there like... mouthwash here? That kills germs, right?" It's the medicine aisle. There is probably not mouthwash. Also for all he knows they'll just drink it!

Sutton stands in the cleaning aisle in front of a rack of mops and sundry tools. She reaches up for a metal-look swiffer. "Fake news." She womp womps and smacks it against a shelf to test the tensile strength of the PLASTIC. She goes for a mop in the other hand and bangs it against the shelf. "Also fuckin' plastic." Smack smack. "Fuck me." Her booze ennui extends to the mops of various variety. She sighs and happens to glance over at some Lysol, gaze glazing over the 409. "Mm. Yeah right." Kills 99% of germs. She hefts her weapons and — wait. "... GUYS. CLEANING FUCKIN' PRODUCTS!" Who knew. This aisle is useful after all. Sutton drops her disappointing plastic weaponry, and scoop arms a bunch of cleaning crap. She knocks a whole bunch more on the floor, though. Just like a pregnant lady at a pickle sale.

Andy is just getting ready to do some serious fist pumping at having assisted in sizzling a germ, but then he notices that, "Oh, shit, that seems bad." He pulls his snotblasted shirt away from his stomach. "Guys. Ow." And for emphasis, "Ow." But there's no time to sit around saying ow repeatedly. So he turns back on the thing that overshared all over his very terrible shirt and lunges at it with his sparkly fists of disease control.

"Cleaning products," August echoes. He looks around, but they're in the medicine aisle. Unless someone decided this was the place for Lysol...maybe rubbing alcohol?

While he's helping to take down one of those giant, disgusting germs, the voice over the PA catches Byron's attention as does Clarissa's angry rants at them. "If you want," He says, looking to her, "Stay in the center of all of us. Though," And he'll offer up this disclaimer, "I can't guarantee your safety even there." With how many of those things there are now, he's not sure which one will launch out in his direction or anywhere near him. It's hard to gauge who is doing what, especially when a lot of things being done isn't entirely visual, so for now, he keeps to a more aggressive stance. Though Sutton's words catch his attention. "Which aisle is that?" He says looking towards the group. Look, he has maid service, alright, he doesn't need to clean things on his own.

Whatever Byron wants or chooses to do, Lilith lets him, as suddenly when things multiply again, she stops lashing out and starts doing a lot of looking around behind him with prompting from Aidan, "Look, I am willing to spit listerine back at them if it keeps them from touching me, because what we're doing is going to be a huge problem if we keep it up en-masse." After drawing in a breath, she ventures to rummage for something to use that's closer, but her focus is kind of distracted, as she's waiting and watching Byron to try and influence whatever happens next.

Then with the conversation about cleaning products being a thing too, she looks at the aisle end and says, "Just... try to get the one so we can move to where there's germ killers or something. Yes?"

As she fills the blob that dared with cotton balls in an attempt to overstuff it so it doesn't lick things anymore, Isabella's fingers extend, fingers curling tight, as if she's attempting to force choke a bitch, because this is gross. "Eat it, you fat, slimy sonofa-- " As Sutton cries out somewhere on the other side of the way, she looks relieved - because she's alive. But cleaning products? "Over here!" she cries. "There's more of them!"

She uses the same tactic, but in the end, it's a distraction at best, to give others time to move and arm up. More cotton balls fly to fill the mouth of the next thing that tries to get her. As Alexander laughs, she flashes him a grin and a shrug of her shoulders. "Look," she says with a laugh. "I'm working with what I have okay?!"

"Jesus Christ," Alexander says as three new germs pop up. "Stop, guys! Do not spread your fire!" He waves at the blob that looks...most? Damaged. "That one! Until Sutton gets here."

Rusty's last stand was his last. He's dipped, hiding among the registers, head between his knees.

Sutton charges out of her aisle, skitters around the end cap, and barefoot runs along with her armload of lysols and a couple 409s. Her bare feet slapping over the flooring is audible, potentially, unless there's mass panic going on in the medicine aisle. She knows where this aisle is simply because she has a very important condom supply to maintain at home and that's like one aisle over from the cough drops. "Yo." She calls out, then bowling balls several bottles of this stuff down their aisle to them. "HEADS UP!" She's super subtle.

"Jesus this is insane," August growls as they get more germs. But now, there's the cavalry, aka Sutton and Mr. Clean. He snags a bottle of Tilex. Bleach will do the job.

Since Byron's offer of protection isn't exactly the best, Clarissa panics and turns to try to run through the germs. Just run through them. Like it looks as if she's willfully trying to pretend they're not there or else she's either blind or just the worst at dodging anything since she basically slams right into them.

Aidan IS kind of delicious-looking, can you blame them? He yelps as one of them gives him a good ol' slurp, catching his shirt and lifting it with its tongue as it sliiiimes right up him. He makes an intensely disgusted noise, followed by a plaintive, "I LIKE this shirt!" and takes an extra step back, just in time to get hit in the foot by one of those cans of Lysol. He ducks down to grab it, yanking the lid off and shaking it up. Unnecessarily. It just feels right.

She tries and while she succeeds, the blob that she's attacking succeeds more. The thing manages to whip its tongue at her, nearly snatching her moonstone pendant out of her neck and burns a nasty and red mark across her chest. Isabella's body staggers backwards against the aisle, her expression half-pained and half-grossed out. "Jesus Christ!" she pants, and that's when one of the cleaning products hits her foot. She reaches out and grabs it, and rips off the seal and sprays it over Alexander's head and towards the blob, furious and deeply offended. "I definitely did not come here to get licked in the boobs."

"No. Don't carelessly attack, but focusing entirely on one of these things is just going to drag this out. Three people per chakoochie." But then someone hits him in the side of the head with a jug of Clorox Wipes which then fall into his hands. "Ow. Again! Oh. Oh!" He yanks the top off and pulls out a handful of wipes, wrapping them around his hands like some kind of antiseptic assassin. He does the same with his other hand, then turns to face one of the things. One of 'em at which at least two teammates are also givin' the stinkeye. "Let's try this again, guys. But this time," he holds up his hands, "I kill 99.9% of germs on contact."

Sutton thumbs the caps off two aerosol Lysols, lemon scent, and holds them up like flamethrowers in either hand. The caps clatter to the ground and she advances. FWOOOOOOSHHHHHHhhhhh goes the aerosol. Nope, only one fires. "Goddamn it." She throws one over her shoulder, and two-hands the other Lysol in front of her, flanking the germs to head down the aisle. Yes, others are in the line of fire, but it'll only burn if it gets in your eyes, right? Right!

It takes some finangling and sheer bravery on Lilith's parts to go pushing through and between some of those gross floating giant germ blobs to get through the end of the aisle, but she does it when others start getting the same idea. After she's clear, though, she gags a little with dry heave after being so close to the smell, then goes to find something nicely scented (on purpose) and full of germ killing power with spray nozzles. She stocks up on Mr. Clean and finally gets one of those bottles pitched to Byron. Of course, when she starts fiddling with the nozzle, she gets it right upside the head while distracted and separated from Byron, which makes her shriek like a girly girl there in brief.

She gags again while setting up to retaliate.

A spray can of disinfectant (lavender scented!) skitters down the aisle, and Alexander seizes it with enthusiasm. He knocks off the cap, and immediately unloads on one of the nearest germs. Although it works, it leaves him open for a long, grotesque lick across his stomach, the nasty ooze seeping immediately through the fabric of his sweat shirt and making him shudder with pain and disgust. "I promise to get a flu shot immediately after this," he mutters, to no one in particular.

It's an unorthodox weapon, but it get sthe job done: the germ dies. Or...melts. Whatever, it's not licking things anymore. Unfortunately now August has a lovely blistering, painful rash on his chest and neck. Ugh. He keeps at it with the Tilex, though.

Clarissa screams when that lick goes over her shoulder and she drops down to her knees in a haze of shock. She's not used to being hurt at all! Maybe when she goes to get her legs waxed but that's a personal choice. With tears in her eyes she flails around with her hands for something to defend herself with and comes up with a spray bottle full of lemon scented Lysol, "THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT!" She shouts because apparently that's the only volume she knows at this point as she pulls the trigger with all the gravity of someone holding a gun. Spritz, spritz!

The other Germ reels backwards at her attack, the expression on her face grim, but satisfied. Isabella whirls around when she espies movement in her periphery - towards the same one with the cotton balls in its mouth. Her lips ease into a grin, the fight putting fire in her blood. "Lick this, you sonuvabitch." And she turns the nozzle straight into its face and jams her fingers on the button to unleash a hefty spray.

Andy looks down at his not all that effective fistwraps and grumbles to himself, "I'm getting rusty. I should hit up a gym." But the germ he was attacking is dead, so he can take credit for like distracting it or something later. But more keep coming and he turns to face one of them that are unpleasantly moving in on him. Putting up his dukes, he says, "I think we should work to reduce corporate /influenza/ in politics. No, I'm- that doesn't make any sense. Give me a second. Shit." At a loss, he takes a swing. "Punchy punchy!"

Great! Lilith is no longer behind him, though she could be in a better spot. Who knows! There's a ton of these things floating around. Sending a shocking jolt through another one that gets too close, that's when he notices Winslow off in the distance tossing him a bottle of Mister Clean. The electricity dies down, leaving behind that heavy ozone scent as he reaches to catch the thing. He's seen others try to pour or spray the contents of they've gather on the germy creatures. "Thanks!" He can't be too annoyed that she darted off for some ammo, however. Uncapping the bottle and tearing off the silver foil protective cover, he works on trying to make his way towards Lilith, dodge and spraying disinfectant on anything that gets in his way.

"Ha!" Aidan exclaims when the sprays actually work, and no extra germs bud off in the process, with a slightly feral grin that doesn't actually last that long in the face of the increasing burning of that recent lick. He holds the can in both hands and swivels like a cop mid-firefight in a crappy action movie to aim it at the nearest one. Speaking of crappy action movies, "Um.. clean up in aisle six?"

"There's something very satisfying about this," Alexander admits, as he catches one of the floaty blobs and sprays it with a blast of Lysol until it falls to the floor in a pool of glop that he steps gingerly around. "Viscerally satisfying." A quick look is cast up at the ceiling at the voice from the PA, but he doesn't address it, yet.

Everyone's a critic. No sooner has Aidan attempted Cleverness (and spraying) but TWO of the germs decide he looks absolutely scrumptious, tongues flicking out and over his chest and head like over-affectionate dogs. Over-affectionate dogs with corrosive spit that makes him make a sound halfway between a wail and a gag, and attempt to wipe some of it off with the arm of his fluffy bathrobe. It's not supereffective. "I really wanna set you on fire!" he informs the germs at large, but instead just sprays the last one that licked him again with malice aforethought, right in the... not-face.

August glances overhead at the PA and rolls his eyes. He edges clear of the meses as he keeps at one of the first blobs they encountered. He might hate using Tilex at home because of its tendency to destroy clothes, but on these assholes it works just fine.

"This kind of shit never happens at the Piggly Wiggly. Just saying." Andy tosses his oozed-up Clorox wipes, pops the top and pulls out the whole roll, then turns on the next of the dwindling supply of grossos. At the PA announcement Andy stops and glances over to Alexander. "What'd you do?"

Her chest hurts. It does. But the pain helps her focus and Isabella manages, somehow, to outmaneuver the Germ attacking her, and because it's moving, she manages to mostly miss. With an incomprehensible battle cry, she unleashes another full spray of cleaning product on the Germ full of cotton balls. Instincts are what they are, though. Perhaps because things are moving and she can sense it at the back of her mind, but when she whips around, eyes grow wide when she sees two Germs converging on her. "Okay. Okay," she murmurs, backing up and body tensing, picking up another cleaner and ripping off the seal with her teeth, spitting it out sideways and shaking it. "One for each of you."

There's a yelp from Sutton when she gets slimy germ booped right on her FUCK OFF shirt, probably with some skin contact. "Not the rack." It's not impressive, but it's reasonably nice and she's young. She fssssssts Lysol all over herself and her germ-tacker. Like a hypochondriac with a grudge, she sprays the crap out of everything near her. Lemony! Fresh! "Set everything on fire!" No, don't, but Sutton can't help but agree with Aidan. She scowls and mutters, "Who the shit is in the manager's office." Then something about shoving the PA system where the sun don't shine.

It turns out there's a reason Clarissa is not a cop and that reason has nothing to do with how amazingly smart and intelligent she is. She's a terrible, terrible shot. Even with a spray bottle. Perhaps there's a reason the idle rich have cleaning crews. Twisting the nozzle a couple of times she points it again at the germ, wincing as she backs up and tries spraying again, "Is this supposed to make me relate to the working class? Because it's making me hate it even more!" She looks up when the PA person addresses her, "Are you on a lunch break!?"

"Me?" Alexander gives Andy a bewildered look. "None of this is my fault!" Probably. Maybe.

Lilith seriously is done with being separated from Byron because she's held her mettle together there long enough with the foul stench and substance catching her in the leg before it skids away last second with panic reflex. But there's this big floating blob between them, and truth be told, she's about to throw up and she doesn't want more burning itchy stinky goo leaking on her. She makes a shrieking little noise before all her senses shut off and she's just as much flight and fight at the same weird time. She just wants back over by Byron because ewewewew. It's funny how blood doesn't alarm her at all, in retrospect.

When she bolts, she sprays with reckless abandon on the way from her spray bottle, bare feet skidding some in her desperate swiftness.

"And you can shut up," Alexander says, back to the PA. He's got one of the blobby blobs in his sights, and he continues to spray it down in a cloud of...let's face it, caustic and probably carcinogen substances. They're all going to get cancer from this fight ten years down the line.

Clarissa somehow manages to not only avoid that tongue, but also to hit with the next furious sprays of cleaner. Who knows how because it almost looks like she closed her eyes and just shot it out randomly. But there that germ goes, melting into a pool of nothingness. She lets out a little strangled sound in her throat and then turns to another one, brandishing her spray bottle wildly, "PEOPLE WANT A LIVING WAGE FOR THIS!? I'M LITERALLY DOING IT IN MY SLEEP!" She shouts with adrenaline induced abandon.

They converge. They attack. And Isabella despite her not-insignificant injury has adrenaline to burn. She's waiting until they charge, fingers twitching at the nozzles of her twin cans, but when they finally do she sprints. She dives. The alcohol slick on the floor has her flying past the first one that tries to get her, and she twists her body in the last minute when one gets wise to her games. The tongue slaps her upside the temple at her roll, feeling it burn, but she's rewarded by the sight of Clarissa's takedown of the cottonball-filled blob.

The roll brings her up on one knee; she flashes a thumbs up towards the PA speaker for the compliment about her one-liner, and she turns both nozzles towards the Germ that slapped her upside the head and sprays. This is weird. This hurts. One of them licked her boobs. But by the grin on her lips, she might actually be having a good time for some god damn reason.

At first it was simple to try and dismiss the voice coming over the PA, but when those words turn far more sinister, not that Byron thought that they were playing on their team. But now, his curiosity is piqued at just who or what the voice belongs to. One that knows them by name, he'll assume, because Veil things tend to. Either way, whatever cleanser he had left in his bottle is mostly wasted by the time he even attempts pouring it on the little germ. Tossing the bottle aside like so much litter, he takes up one of the spray cans. Maybe this'll work. If anything, like the rest of the solution splashed all over the aisle, the place will smell lemony fresh.

Maybe the Spiritualists can cure that up for them at that point! It's a problem for future-them, anyway. Now-Aidan is busy making a triumphant hiss of a "Yesssss!" as the germ he was targeting shrivels away, "Now who's licked?" Someone needs to watch more of those action movies. Or fewer. Probably fewer. The PA voice gets his attention briefly, Clarissa's (louder) remarks moreso, but there's barely time to snicker slightly before he catches sight of a tongue moving again and sprays at it like there's no tomorrow. No more licks! No! BAD GERM!

Alexander sprays the germ until the can starts to sputter. "Die, you miserable bug," he growls in frustration. Then? BOOM. Yep, definitely gonna get cancer as a fine mist of Lysol sets over him, but hey, it kills the giant germs. "Nice work," he calls to Byron, even as he raises his hand to try not to breathe too much of the disinfectant.

Still standing, still doing okay. Another horrible goo-spray to the gut, but it's all good. Could being a doctor be much harder than this? Andy takes a step away after just about thrashing the goo-beast, which then explodes thanks to a Lysol grenade. "Well that's not a manufacturer's prescribed use of that product." He then notices that he actually recognizes some of the other people around him. "I love community building exercises." Isabella's PJs get a nod. "Twilight's a solid choice." But he's gotta check up on one person and walks over to Clarissa. "Hey, are you okay?"

August winces at the cleaning spray bomb. Well, Eleanor might appreciate it, since it might help get some of this nasty linger gross off him. Or at least disinfect it. Either way, he's taking one HELL of a shower.

Another germ goes down and Clarissa is drunk on power! And her shoulder is killing her! And this is all really, really upsetting! And so when Andy speaks to her she jumps, turns, and sprays him right in the face with Lysol, "AHHHHH! Oh, shit! Oh, god, Andy, I'm so sorry!"

Byron really should have expected it, he really really really should have, but then, there's distractions. As the last germs wither and Lilith slings down her spray bottle with agitation and venting, she makes a distressed whine of noise in her throat and goes to wrap arms around Byron with relief and comfort seeking alike, sheer instinct without realization that...

Well, see, he's pretty clean. She's nasty with the stuff upside her head and in her hair, making her scalp miserable, and it's on her leg and hands too from touching at her hair with shock when it happened. Love hurts, Byron.

"FUCK! FUCKING HELL! MY FUCKING EYES! SHIT!" Andy pulls his shirt up and rubs vigorously at his face. Never has intense burning pain smelled so lemony fresh. "Jesus Christ, I'm beginning to think this is a race thing, lady." He's completely missing important narrative events because of the way his eyes feel like they're melting.

August sees the light clicking off, and looks among the group. And even though this is going to get him a lecture from Alexander, he flexes his fingers and work on Clarissa's injured arm.

And poof. The heavy astringent spray of the Lysol bomb overtakes everything else and the blobs dissolve. Isabella would breathe, but it's suddenly hard to do so. There's a cough, and one of the cans drops on the ground to press her hand over her nose and mouth. Her eyes are starting to water. Andy's remark about her PJs? "Hey, Andy," she says with a smile; the compliment about her choice of pony gets a broader grin and a light punch to the arm. "Still owe me a picture of you in the Cookie Monster get up," she tells him.

She tries not to laugh, when Clarissa turns around and sprays him. She would have taken video, if she only had her phone. But she doesn't. Instead, she drops her can and starts moving towards where she last saw Alexander. "Heroine of the night," she tells Sutton. "Thanks, for the save, Sutton." The PA speaker gives her pause, and she narrows her eyes....until the lights start to turn off one by one.

She freezes, her eyes wide as the back end of the Safeway goes dark and it starts to spread. She backs up quickly, panic starting to ensnare her. Her head whips around in an effort to find an exit.

Alexander tilts his head back to glare at the PA. "Hey. Hey! You can't just--" click Yeah, they totally can. He mutters a curse under his breath, and makes a beeline for Isabella. "How bad is it?" he murmurs to her. "We're probably about to..." and yep, the lights are going out. "I'll call you." A scan of the rest, and a wince as Clarissa sprays the poor cop.

Isabella turns around then and grabs onto Alexander's arms. "I need to get out," she tells him through clenched teeth, turning her back to the growing darkness. "I need to get out."

Aidan makes a startled little noise when the 'bomb' takes out the last of them, spraying at-- nothing, now! He closes his eyes against the Lysol-mist, though it kinda... feels a little nice? Possibly only because it's faint, and if so, he's really going to regret the idea to spray himself on the oozed-areas of his chest with what's still in his Lysol can. But you never know if you don't try, right? The PA has him looking up at the... well, ceiling, you can't really see the speakers that well, and immediately regretting it because that's where all the lights are, Aidan. He winces, looking away, and then the lights are going out. "Uh. Doors?" he suggests, and starts that way. It's basically Safeway, so they have to be over there, right?

"It's a good thing none of this is real!" Clarissa offers to Andy in a fake, cheerful tone and quickly puts down the spray bottle like maybe now he won't remember that was her. Then the PA person is talking and lights start going out and she looks around even more nervously than before, "Wait! I think I forgot something...somewhere in here! Don't turn off the lights yet!"

Alexander doesn't question it. He simply reacts to Isabella's obvious distress by moving immediately towards the exits and pulling her along with. "If we get the flu from this again, I'm going to be so pissed."

Sutton tips back and, "Augh!" when the lights come on. Fluorescents are not her best look. And that's just too bright after acclimating to the creep factor in here. She starts to bitch about it just as the loudspeaker goes again. "Oh, come on." Experiment. Test virus. All those words she just loves to hear. Sutton stands there, covered in Lysol, her mouth slightly open at the implications of all of this. "Uh... yeah. I just used my, um, my reading." While she was trying to find a really good smacking weapon. She shifts her gaze to one side, then looks back to Isabella. Yeah, heroing was totally on purpose. Mhm. And the lights begin clicking off aisle by aisle. "There's no place like home, for real."

Byron's standing coughing on the disinfected fumes, that's probably distraction enough that he doesn't notice a grossly licked Lilith bounding his way to hug him. Perhaps, not even noticing that she was covered in gross goo before it was too late, but she's slimed him now and there's nothing that can be done but grimace... a little. Looking down at his sweatshirt, he asks, "Are you okay? More like, are you /feeling/ okay?" He has no idea if any of the licked were contaminated or not and neither did she, but she didn't mind spreading her germs!

He'll return the hug tightly enough, before giving the place and the others around a curious look. "So it's over? Finally? We can get the hell away from that hospital smell?" Still, it was better than the putrid odor that those things brought in. "An experiment." He openly complains. "Is this a Veil thing? Because of it is..." Well, he probably doesn't want to go back to City Hall to complain.