( ❛ ━ ⊰✧ sickness] | o&a ]

[pixieknees]

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𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄'𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍
𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇
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1981, busan━━━ south korea━ the world is amidst a crisis
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no one quite knows when it started ━ when the sickness began t
o spread. some rumor it began in daegu, where the government-
had been trying to up taxes. others state it all happened due to s
ome toxic radiation rumor. but, no one truly knows where it stem
med from- or why it only ever spread to south korea. not to japa-
n, russia, or even north korea. solely the south.
━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
three months. three months have passed since the outbreak first-
sparked. but now, people are onto something. tucked away by th
e neck of the woods in busan is a small hospital containing termi-
nally ill teenagers and children. they are all nearing their deathb
eds, faith having dwindled many months before the outbreak.....
but- some of the remaining, braver staff have decided to hang ar
ound, only to realize that these ill children are immune to the zo
mbie like predators. well, maybe they arent- but the zombies ha-
ve no interest whatsoever in infecting them. in fact, they avoid t
hem like the plague. maybe they dont want to prey on the weak.
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the illnesses...
bone cancer [bam]
leukemia [father]
heart disease [gabbie]
untreated type one diabetes [blakebella]
kidney disease [amy]
liver disease [lemon]
multiple sclerosis [hoshi]
schizophrenia [rai]
━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
characters will die- in or out of rp is your choice. ((:
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one character per person pls! discussion thread here.

[pixieknees]

杨 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆

it had been months since bambang had been able to will himself out of the hospital- his motivation slowly draining with each passing day. what was life worth living when he knew that soon- he'd breath his last breath? where ever he looked- he saw the faces of those preparing to die. and outside of the hospitals walls was pretty much the same deal. creatures rotting and stenching of death had began to pop up, initially frightening bangie so bad he suffered a heart attack- which, admittedly wasnt too rare of an occasion to occur. nonetheless, it seemed south korea as he knew it was falling apart. when his mother and father had taken him to busan three years ago for treatment, he hadnt been expecting a zombie apocalypse to happen. after all, he wasnt living in a novel or a sci-fi movie, why was this happening? for the first time in years he felt thankful that his parents continued living in china, though, as even though he was using burrowed time on this earth, they were now safe from those hideous creatures infesting south korea's streets like vermin. exhaling lightly, the brunet shifted in his hospital-bed, medication sticking to the roof of his mouth slightly as he reached for the glass of water by his bed-side table. outside of his window he could see the disgruntled faces of those infected creatures, all lazily standing without a single movement- like terribly ugly, poorly made statues. for some reason, they didnt seem to have any interest in the ill at the hospital bambang resided in. maybe they were too good, their pallet too pompous- for such sickly people. after all, bangie had witnessed his favorite nurse be torn to death and mauled by one of those creatures. and just as he had been preparing himself for death, the zombie-like-monster had walked right past him. though that wasnt to say he hadnt also suffered that day, a heart-attack hitting him not long after. swallowing the water and numerous pills, bammie lazily stumbled out from his bed- tender fingers rubbing at his numb thighs. a side-effect of his heart failure and medication was numb limbs, a symptom in which he frequently suffered from. limping out from his room, the brunet lazily made his way down the hallways- the stench of rotting flesh wafting in through the slightly open windows. he knew they wouldnt be able to survive much longer without any nurses. it was a miracle he and the other ill teenagers were still breathing. "screw this world." slightly hissed the male, shoulders falling in defeat. "i want to die and those stupid zombie-ass creatures wont even eat me." maybe it was due to his age- being only sixteen and all, but bambang was going through a pretty rough time. the life he was leading was no longer worth living, he could not hide that fact for much longer. releasing one last sigh- the male rubbed his eyes before recognizing a familiar face. elijah watanabe, his first friend at the hospital- and his current best-bud! "elijah!" enthusiastically cheered bangie, his limp speeding up to an oddly preformed canter-like gait, the excitement clear on his face.

""

[yeosang1]

⊱𝐄𝐥𝐣𝐢𝐚𝐡 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐞⊰

it was so scary. heck, it was always scary. bone cancer literally limited almost everything in someones life. affected or not. elijah could never do anything more than a simple jog, even that if he was lucky, without breaking down and wanting to go home or hide in his room. literally anything like that. thats how he felt.and he'd easily admit he was scared. death was going to happen sooner or later. either his body giving out or some other reason. but elijah knew it was inebitable. especially for him. he was doomed and there wasnt anything stopping that. that, or elijah was just being dramatic. maybe there was a cure. maybe there was a way he could survive and end up happy with his loved one, without fear of being alone forever. but that will always be planted in the back of his mind, and there wasnt too much that could change it. and to make the devilish matters worse? there were freaking zombies. the devil's children, practically. least to him. zombies outside, zombies inside, zombies everywhere. if bone cancer didn't end up killing eli? could easily be those zombies. well..he actually couldnt be killed by zombies. they werent interested in him for some..really odd reason. they weren't interested in any of the sick kids. which made it harder for elijah. he didnt want to suffer. why couldnt he just give himself up? there wasnt anyway he could get out of this fast, huh? elijah sucked in a soft breath as he brought his hand to his cheek gently, wiping a hot tear from his face. and to wipe another, and another, before the tears fell more and more and faste than he could stop. unless he just shoved his sleeves against his cheek. which, he wasnt going to do. wet face due to crying, plus uncomfortable fabric from shirt , equals literally pain. never felt good. elijah let a few more..good sobs out before jumping slightly as someone called his name. he glanced around slightly, before his eyes caught on Bambang.

ahh, bambang. his best friend. and also..the person he may or may not have been harboring quite the crush on. not his fault! bambang was literally so perfect. he was nice, beautiful(inside and out), smart, everything someone could ask for. and he ... was straight. at least, thats what elijah thought he was. he didnt say anything about his sexuality quite yet..but thats how elijah saw him. perfect, actual true happiness, covered by a glass wall. that was literally inpenaturable. maybe it wasn't glass..but titanium of some sort. and knowing that, absolutely broke elijah's heart. not due to the fact all these walls were around him, but the fact he knew he'd never be able to get around them. therefore...he cant reach his true happiness. thats why he wanted a zombie to eat him already, or something. elijah wiped his cheeks, almost aggressively, once more. ridding the salty warm tears, nasty. then? he finally turned on his heel, and smiled over to his absolute best friend in the world. literally the person who was there for him a the beginning. heck yes. "bambang!" elijah called out, his smile growing twice as he tried to jog over there..fast enough to be a bit fast but not enough to hurt him.

oh, and tried.

[春雷,,]

𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐎𝐇
19 y.o ♕ male ♕ schizophrenic ♕ tags: open

The wind buffeted the male's russet-tinted chestnut locks along with the loose white button-up he wore yet Lori did not feel cold. The overly-stuffy wards were simply too suffocating for the teen, and a breath of the harsh yet fresh air was always the best way to briefly lose himself. From his vantage point on top of the hospital building, other shambles and ruins of once-glorious skyscrapers were visible, shattered windows with streaks of brownish crimson liquid a sight that could also be seen everywhere. It was almost ridiculous how quickly the world had been torn apart and the alarmed screams of people still haunted his nightmares. But for some sick, twisted reason or spin of fate, he, along with all the other teens at the ward facing deadly sicknesses, had been the only ones not infected. Maybe even this disease took pity on them, yet Lorienne really saw no point to it. Bringing up a hand, he looked at it blankly, watching his trembling fingers without any feeling. Right now, everyone that he knew, everything that he was seeing currently could possibly just be a part of his hallucinations, the very thought already causing his entire body to shake. Breathe, Lorienne. Breathe.

Inhaling the bitter air filled with the acrid tang of burning and rubble, a pained laugh bubbled from the depths of him before it ended off as a choked noise. No tears came to his eyes though, for the brunette boy had cried enough when he first found out that this suffering would continue. His parents had cried enough too when they were first notified of his sickness. He wouldn’t allow more tears anymore, he’d had enough of those. Taking a deep breath, he felt his racing heartbeat calm down once more. There was no time, nor point to having a panic attack, especially in an apocalypse, right? Turning, Lori faced away from the edge of the hospital floor, slumping down on the paved tiles and leaning against the concrete bordering as he let his eyes flutter close. He had always preferred the rooftop, and his liking to it was further increased now due to the stench of rotten flesh that came from the hideously disfigured zombies that stumbled around. If only this was all just another hallucination of his.

[rogan]

██│
██│

𝑴𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑲

⊰ cismale ⊱ x ⊰ multiple sclerosis ⊱
⊰ tagged with no one ⊱

xxxxnot once since the sun rose (that he had general knowledge of) and he had woken up, had moonsik gotten out of the bed he was in. he laid there, eyes looking up at the ceiling. not that he could see it, but he had no where else to stare without appearing creepy. he wished he could see it, wished he could see the sky the way that it was when he was younger, granted he didn't always have a clear view of it. but he wished he could at least see something. do you know how much of a pain it was to not know where a wall was? to not know if the door was open? to run into the wall, or the door? or even another object? it hurt. he wanted to stop having to deal with the thought of running into the wall, the door, the dresser or the bed- or trip down the stairs because he couldn't see where he was without the help of someone, or the help of his dog. even so, he was scared to fall down the stairs and break something but have no one there to help him. it was a pain in the butt to deal with that feeling on a daily bases. and to deal with not being able to actually see someone. he wanted to see how lori actually looked. how they all looked. maybe he didn't want to put a face to the decaying flesh smell,, but he wanted to put a face to the people he knew were still alive. to himself. he wasn't able to see how he himself had grown. the last image of himself he remembered was when he stared at the mirror in the bathroom internally hating on himself before he covered the damned thing with a cloth only to never take it down.

xxxxbut now he couldn't even see. not the sky. not the room. not his dog. and not even the person he tended to turn to most. it hurt.

xxxxafter a few long, drawn out seconds- the male finally forced himself to sit up. as much as he didn't want to, he knew that he had to. slowly, he began to search the bed for the edge- before his fingers dipped down the end of it. drawing in a breath, he slowly inched his legs towards the edge of the bed, turned himself onto his stomach, and slowly lowered his legs to the ground. as odd as it may of looked, that was the safest way he felt was to get off the damned bed. and thus far, he was fine. his feet hit the tiled floor, and he slowly lowered himself onto his heels before he shifted his hands over to the night stand, just before he used it to walk closer to the wall. "jun?" he called out, hand flat against the wall as he slowly walked along it, feeling for the sudden curve of a corner to avoid running into it. his hand brushed over the corner, before it was running over smooth wood. lightly taking a few side steps, moonsik felt around the door for the door knob. when his hand brushed against the cold metal, he turned it and slowly slipped backwards to open it, only to feel his way outside of the door, keeping his hand on the wall. "jun!" when he didn't hear the soft pitter patter of the dog's feet and nails against the tile floor, he shaped his lips and released a small whistle, hoping to at least catch the dog's attention. when the dog still hadn't come, moonsik drew in a breath and continued to walk down the hallway, feet shuffling slightly as he used the wall as support.

xxxxthe brunet's foot caught on his heel, and before he knew it, he was falling forward. while his hand had ended up breaking his fall just slightly, he couldn't say that he knew he would go without bruising on his single knee. moonsik winced, just before he rolled over onto his back- now laying in the middle of the hallway. he didn't care if someone caught him or accidentally stepped on him. he didn't want to try and get up. tears poked at his eyes, and he sniffed. not because he was in pain (though, he knew that he wasn't going to like the pain that came after that) but because he had held it in for far too long. his heart ached. his head ached. and his stomach ached. everything ached. "i think this is my life now," he said softly, voice cracking before the tears slipped from his eyes, "maybe i'm j-just going to die on the fl-floor. alone." he sniffed, lifting his hand up to lightly wipe the tears away from his eyes,

[jisung]

xx𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 XX

01. patient: yoon jisung 02. cismale 03. leukemia
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It hurt like hell. It just ached from within his bones, the bones that pushed at his skin, taut over his skeleton frame. Usually there would be someone here to help him, to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, on his bruised polk-a-dot skin, to bring him his medication. It was the same faces that had assisted him since he was just a tween, spending more time with him then any family member. they were probably dead now, at least, that was the easy conclusion. The other was that they had ran, not sparing a glance for the children who were already written off as dead. It was solid logic, he had to admit- just difficult to swallow, like so many other things.

His muscles trembled, the minute spasms uncontrollable as he tried to shift off of the white sheet hospital bed. It was one of those days, where he avoided the whole world and prayed for either the medication or death to kick in, whichever was faster. But he had no pain relief, no pills to take, no supplements to down, just the hurt that radiated from his bones. He pressed a hand to his temple, his skin sweat-streaked and white in a way that more resembled a ghost than a skin tone. His friends were gone, leaving behind empty undone beds, the fabric thrown this way and that as they had exited the premise frantically, ushered down the halls quickly by parents and nurses alike. But not him.

He tried again, gritting his teeth against rapidly firing nerve endings, forcing himself entirely upright before letting go of the bed post altogether. Jisung knew there were others, people not in his division, in other rooms, down other cookie cutter hallways identical to this one. But here it was quiet. "the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell," he informed the walls loudly, not entirely sure what the phrase meant and pronouncing it somewhat oddly, but still enjoying the momentary reprieve from silence it provided. Although, with recent events, perhaps it was better this way. Silence meant none of those disgusting things were present. Things he still wasn't entirely convinced existed, part of him still hoping that this whole thing was an extended drug trip, that the nurses changed his medication and now he was having a poor reaction to it. That at this very moment he was just having his fever dreams and would wake up any second to the feeling of his IV being changed or a nurse with his morning meal. Problem was, he wasn't sure he had the creativity to come up with something this twisted and nuanced. In fact, he knew he didn't.

Jisung ruffled his hair, pushing irritably at the forelocks that stuck to his brow. It was long, falling past his eyes into his cheekbones. He hadn't wanted it cut before, considering he was just going to lose it all when he began chemotherapy again next week, but clearly that wasn't going to happen now. He scrambled through the drawer by his bed clumsily, slipping a hair tie onto his wrist in the case that it became too much of an annoyance. The elastic band hung loose around the joint, held in place only from the width of the boy's palm. Last he checked he was hovering around 90 pounds, somehow he doubted the situation had improved since then. He huffed out of a lungful of air, briefly entertained by the idea of an undercover boss episode with his underweight, dead looking ass infiltrating a zombie office. He'd fit right in. They were both the walking dead. It was kinda funny in a disgusting, ironic sort of way, he'd always thought the zombie genre was dumb, so unrealistic and pointless. Now the radio stations constantly played alert signals warning about the zombie situation and he had to wonder if his family was still alive.

He took slow, ginger steps towards the window, trying to avoid any unnecessary pressure on his joints. Outside was grey, the sky and cement going on forever in ashy parallel. They were there too, standing in place, limbs hanging at odd, inhuman angles as they waited for something. He hadn't the slightest clue what for, he didn't want to know. The boy looked away quickly, feeling a wave of nausea sweep over his senses. He didn't want to be alone to sit with his thoughts. He would make the short but fatiguing journey to his neighboring friends, thanking the lord that they were on the same floor and no stairs were involved. He wanted to be with Chinmae. His mind scrambled for other names in his sleepy haze, shrugging when he found none. The labyrinthine path to the man's room had become second nature over the years, a sharp left at the apple poster, a right at the cafeteria intersection, and a tertiary turn at the dialysis placard. The loose, medical standard outfit didn't do much against the relative chill of the hospital halls, the drawstrings at his waist hanging low due to the diminishing diameter of his torso. His not-so-well-kept secret? He was still wearing children's sizes and thus the cotton fabric was patterned with happy little tigers going about their day. The sleeping one was named Mr. Alfred. Why? Because he said so.

Jisung rapped lightly on the door frame, keeping his eyes averted just in case. The reality was, everyone in the hospital had even less time than they thought. And he wanted to spend it with Chinmae being slightly less miserable thank you very much.