spawn more overlords!
(open, mid-morningish)
spawn more overlords!
Normally when she felt this sick she'd be somewhere safer. Nurses office at school, that was an old haunt. Dad's car, perpetually missing half a tank of fuel, another oasis on this earth when her body conspired against her higher faculties. Home. She hoped someone was taking care of her babies, fuck. She'd mentioned they were hibernating and she was unsure if any of the rest of her family understood that they were still active enough to need the usual maintenance. Her phrasing, her fault.
- S055, Cedar Dalisay starts -
Most wonderful time... of the year... the jingle, fresh on Witch City radio station (since Halloween, but Christmas songs started in early September in the good ol' PH so there was worse out there) echoed in her brain because there was nothing else going on in there. Classic survival mode anxiety, in this case a bit too literal as Cedar's sour stomach and headache were both understated by literal description. The more apt metaphor was her guts were trying to rush out of her body but stuck in place by her will to live (stubborn girl, that, though her resilience was being definitively tested) and the inside of her skull was Yellowstone about to reduce half of America to rubble. Pressure built only with each step. She was legally blind by this point, really, the sheer density of dancing lights in her vision as each individual one of her rods and corneas melted, as each surge of adrenaline only bought her more time before she puttered out and collapsed over the floor, sobbing and probably violently shitting.
She felt like hell, but she was used to that. The agony would... eventually... well, no promises. But she had lived most of her adult(ish) life with the routine of having her routines upended by illness and needing to use the toilet way too much. The gas they'd used on her class definitely exacerbated the issue to this level of 'rend me from my mortal flesh' but all things were temporary. Probably including her life?
She hated to think about it, really. So she didn't. Her fleeting errant thoughts of friends assumed they were all alive- ignore the teachers whose classes she'd had years ago who she still had felt familiar with who had been mowed down, ignore how she'd somehow been one of the ones to not stress vomit but only because she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning and god she had no energy or willpower for any of this-
See, for all the pain she looked fine. Slow and sluggish, eyes fixed mostly to the ground, but for how apocalyptically bad she felt she was at least well trained at putting on a braver face.
She was slow enough that she had yet to leave the building she'd awoken in. As far as she could tell it was the guts of a Gundam still packaged, chaotic, haphazard, machine shapes every which way. Every time she glanced up she sketched a bit more of the scene, the broken windows, the snow drifts slowly building atop discarded and disused conveyor belts snakelike in how they winded. A labyrinth, and one she couldn't shake the feeling since she'd woken up she was not alone in. There were some unknown extra pair of eyes about, but she was willing to be patient and wait for them to shoot her. No need to call them out.
- S055, Cedar Dalisay starts -
Most wonderful time... of the year... the jingle, fresh on Witch City radio station (since Halloween, but Christmas songs started in early September in the good ol' PH so there was worse out there) echoed in her brain because there was nothing else going on in there. Classic survival mode anxiety, in this case a bit too literal as Cedar's sour stomach and headache were both understated by literal description. The more apt metaphor was her guts were trying to rush out of her body but stuck in place by her will to live (stubborn girl, that, though her resilience was being definitively tested) and the inside of her skull was Yellowstone about to reduce half of America to rubble. Pressure built only with each step. She was legally blind by this point, really, the sheer density of dancing lights in her vision as each individual one of her rods and corneas melted, as each surge of adrenaline only bought her more time before she puttered out and collapsed over the floor, sobbing and probably violently shitting.
She felt like hell, but she was used to that. The agony would... eventually... well, no promises. But she had lived most of her adult(ish) life with the routine of having her routines upended by illness and needing to use the toilet way too much. The gas they'd used on her class definitely exacerbated the issue to this level of 'rend me from my mortal flesh' but all things were temporary. Probably including her life?
She hated to think about it, really. So she didn't. Her fleeting errant thoughts of friends assumed they were all alive- ignore the teachers whose classes she'd had years ago who she still had felt familiar with who had been mowed down, ignore how she'd somehow been one of the ones to not stress vomit but only because she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning and god she had no energy or willpower for any of this-
See, for all the pain she looked fine. Slow and sluggish, eyes fixed mostly to the ground, but for how apocalyptically bad she felt she was at least well trained at putting on a braver face.
She was slow enough that she had yet to leave the building she'd awoken in. As far as she could tell it was the guts of a Gundam still packaged, chaotic, haphazard, machine shapes every which way. Every time she glanced up she sketched a bit more of the scene, the broken windows, the snow drifts slowly building atop discarded and disused conveyor belts snakelike in how they winded. A labyrinth, and one she couldn't shake the feeling since she'd woken up she was not alone in. There were some unknown extra pair of eyes about, but she was willing to be patient and wait for them to shoot her. No need to call them out.
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- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
((S047: Russell “Fitz” Fitzroy: START))
Fitz had been awake for an hour or so. He hadn’t heard anyone since he woke up. He had done three things with that time.
He had spent some time sitting on the floor. Tucked away in a corner of this massive building, staring ahead, with his bag clasped to his chest. (An outside source, such as the camera that had been pointed at him the entire time, would have noted it as forty-two minutes.)
He had sent some time after that (twenty-one minutes) reading the instruction manual for the Walther WA-2000 sniper rifle, and testing opening, shutting and moving the various pieces. It had come assembled. Disassembling it would require a screwdriver. He loaded it, only to unload it immediately. Then reload it again.
Most recently (thirteen minutes ago), he had moved from his initial corner up a nearby stairway, and found a place that gave him a better view of much of this huge, industrial building. There were windows, some broken and some not. Fitz picked his railing, unfolded the bipod and rested on the ground before lying down. The metal floor was cold against his not-warm-enough galaxy leggings. He peered through the scope. He adjusted himself, and pressed his face too close to the cheek rest to be comfortable. He needed to in order to properly make out the simple crosshair.
There were no shortage of pipes, intact windows or other possible targets to practice on.
He saw a figure before any shots had been fired. Someone he was quite familiar with, particularly lately. Fitz clicked the safety on the rifle before peering through the scope harder to confirm his suspicions. Cedar, his girlfriend of about a month, was slowly wandering through the building below.
She hadn’t seen him. But he’d seen her.
Fitz’s hand hovered over the safety for a few moments longer. The safety was just above the trigger. The movements necessary to fire were few.
…
……
After consideration, Fitz left the safety on and followed it up by unloading the sniper rifle. He held it to his chest, jabbing himself in the process because he’d forgotten to fold away the bipod. Once he’d done that, he stood up further before leaning carefully over the railing, keeping low yet trying to flail an arm at the same time to catch her attention.
“Cedar! Over here!” he whispered loudly.
Fitz had been awake for an hour or so. He hadn’t heard anyone since he woke up. He had done three things with that time.
He had spent some time sitting on the floor. Tucked away in a corner of this massive building, staring ahead, with his bag clasped to his chest. (An outside source, such as the camera that had been pointed at him the entire time, would have noted it as forty-two minutes.)
He had sent some time after that (twenty-one minutes) reading the instruction manual for the Walther WA-2000 sniper rifle, and testing opening, shutting and moving the various pieces. It had come assembled. Disassembling it would require a screwdriver. He loaded it, only to unload it immediately. Then reload it again.
Most recently (thirteen minutes ago), he had moved from his initial corner up a nearby stairway, and found a place that gave him a better view of much of this huge, industrial building. There were windows, some broken and some not. Fitz picked his railing, unfolded the bipod and rested on the ground before lying down. The metal floor was cold against his not-warm-enough galaxy leggings. He peered through the scope. He adjusted himself, and pressed his face too close to the cheek rest to be comfortable. He needed to in order to properly make out the simple crosshair.
There were no shortage of pipes, intact windows or other possible targets to practice on.
He saw a figure before any shots had been fired. Someone he was quite familiar with, particularly lately. Fitz clicked the safety on the rifle before peering through the scope harder to confirm his suspicions. Cedar, his girlfriend of about a month, was slowly wandering through the building below.
She hadn’t seen him. But he’d seen her.
Fitz’s hand hovered over the safety for a few moments longer. The safety was just above the trigger. The movements necessary to fire were few.
…
……
After consideration, Fitz left the safety on and followed it up by unloading the sniper rifle. He held it to his chest, jabbing himself in the process because he’d forgotten to fold away the bipod. Once he’d done that, he stood up further before leaning carefully over the railing, keeping low yet trying to flail an arm at the same time to catch her attention.
“Cedar! Over here!” he whispered loudly.
- BlizzardeyeWonder
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:41 pm
- Location: the shadow realm
[Tenshi Marie Anastasie Fukushima-Yves: Island START]
It was so chaotically empty.
Tenshi clutched the edges of her jacket and her assigned duffel bag, as she lay on the floor of the industrial landscape. Her breath was shaky, as though shivering. Tears and the cold stung her eyes.
She lifted herself up just a bit, rummaging through her bag again. No weapons, only... wait, she missed this before. It was a weird skull-shaped whistle. Taking a deep breath, she looked it over. Halloween was a while ago, but this would have been very festive for the occasion.
As she pondered fun things like Halloween, Tenshi wiped away her tears, and forced a small smile onto her face. She wanted to keep any little moment of silliness she could, while she still can. Maybe if she acted out enough the whole dream would come tumbling down and she'd wake up in her bed. Her life was gonna be a picturesque romance, a bitter but ultimately sweet story. This was just some weird "what-if" dredged up from her psyche. Like seriously, this shit was right out of Silent Hill.
Or so she kept telling herself.
Out of idle curiosity, she blew the whistle.
...she could just barely hear its shrill tone, that was weird. Was it a dog whistle or something?
It was so chaotically empty.
Tenshi clutched the edges of her jacket and her assigned duffel bag, as she lay on the floor of the industrial landscape. Her breath was shaky, as though shivering. Tears and the cold stung her eyes.
She lifted herself up just a bit, rummaging through her bag again. No weapons, only... wait, she missed this before. It was a weird skull-shaped whistle. Taking a deep breath, she looked it over. Halloween was a while ago, but this would have been very festive for the occasion.
As she pondered fun things like Halloween, Tenshi wiped away her tears, and forced a small smile onto her face. She wanted to keep any little moment of silliness she could, while she still can. Maybe if she acted out enough the whole dream would come tumbling down and she'd wake up in her bed. Her life was gonna be a picturesque romance, a bitter but ultimately sweet story. This was just some weird "what-if" dredged up from her psyche. Like seriously, this shit was right out of Silent Hill.
Or so she kept telling herself.
Out of idle curiosity, she blew the whistle.
...she could just barely hear its shrill tone, that was weird. Was it a dog whistle or something?
Tucked away in a tiny storage cupboard on the ground floor, legs pressed tight to her chest, hands gripping the sides of her head, Trinity Ashmore opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
She saw him quick. That was a relative term in her blind as a bat state, but even by the official definition of the term (a dictionary entry with a photo of Sonic) she immediately zeroed in onto the noise with a awkward, stiff crick of her neck. And an ouch, but that wasn't spoken out loud. What was louder than her own thoughts, besides most things because she swore the whole universe around her was too big and loud all of a sudden, was her verbal thumbs up.
"You're giving your position away," a soft smile, one she was acutely sure would end with her puking but nope, mostly pearly whites remained unstained.
"Thanks."
She liked Fitz way more than was existentially appropriate. He wasn't the sort to make her heart flutter, to be honest, but. Familiar. Comfortable. She wondered if that was a backhanded compliment, but it never felt like one when she put that word in her mind together with his face. She hadn't expected it to last, but... Hey. They'd be together for life now!
She exhaled some of the tension that had kept her on her feet, a sudden lurch leftwards and she only caught herself in time to end up on her knees. Whoops, add the concrete-shaped bruising on her kneecap to her list of injuries she'd sustained before anyone had even pointed a gun at her.
"I'm fine," she grunted reflexively, when she wasn't. "I've been up for a while." That was code for anyone who'd known Cedar long enough to see how hard she tended to pass out when gassed. The cypher spelled out: 'I'm running on adrenaline and Tylenol now. Please let me cuddle until I can limp home.' She realized suddenly just how few people would probably indulge her like they had in that mythical place in time called yesterday when they hadn't all been sentenced to death by the world's most grotesquely powerful terrorist organization. The boogieman she'd lived with in her life since twelve-something year old her had watched her mom and dad cry over news reports of an incident in Seattle.
The air split as did her skull. Loud noises. Bestial, guttural, then softer, more feminine, then the echoes bouncing off the wall.
I want every single person in this room to have a voice. I want everyone here’s contributions to be felt.
"The one that doesn't sound like we're about to get gutted by Slenderman is Trinity, I think."
Cedar shot an unspoken question at her boyfriend, eyebrows tense as she considered how vulnerable she was sprawled out on the floor. He was the one with a gun, the one in a safe position, the one likely not an ounce of willpower's away from collapsing due to general malaise. Immediately she made a decision before he could weigh in.
"Trinity?" Cedar's size was deceptive. She had some heft behind her skinny ribcage- Adele at home, as Tenshi had once colorfully put it. She projected, just enough to cut through the sudden racket in the warehouse if you listened for the human somewhere in the terrifying cacophony. "It's Cedar and Fitz, we're not going to hurt you! Are you in trouble?" Her concern for others was temporarily louder than her personal agony. Wouldn't last long.
"You're giving your position away," a soft smile, one she was acutely sure would end with her puking but nope, mostly pearly whites remained unstained.
"Thanks."
She liked Fitz way more than was existentially appropriate. He wasn't the sort to make her heart flutter, to be honest, but. Familiar. Comfortable. She wondered if that was a backhanded compliment, but it never felt like one when she put that word in her mind together with his face. She hadn't expected it to last, but... Hey. They'd be together for life now!
She exhaled some of the tension that had kept her on her feet, a sudden lurch leftwards and she only caught herself in time to end up on her knees. Whoops, add the concrete-shaped bruising on her kneecap to her list of injuries she'd sustained before anyone had even pointed a gun at her.
"I'm fine," she grunted reflexively, when she wasn't. "I've been up for a while." That was code for anyone who'd known Cedar long enough to see how hard she tended to pass out when gassed. The cypher spelled out: 'I'm running on adrenaline and Tylenol now. Please let me cuddle until I can limp home.' She realized suddenly just how few people would probably indulge her like they had in that mythical place in time called yesterday when they hadn't all been sentenced to death by the world's most grotesquely powerful terrorist organization. The boogieman she'd lived with in her life since twelve-something year old her had watched her mom and dad cry over news reports of an incident in Seattle.
The air split as did her skull. Loud noises. Bestial, guttural, then softer, more feminine, then the echoes bouncing off the wall.
I want every single person in this room to have a voice. I want everyone here’s contributions to be felt.
"The one that doesn't sound like we're about to get gutted by Slenderman is Trinity, I think."
Cedar shot an unspoken question at her boyfriend, eyebrows tense as she considered how vulnerable she was sprawled out on the floor. He was the one with a gun, the one in a safe position, the one likely not an ounce of willpower's away from collapsing due to general malaise. Immediately she made a decision before he could weigh in.
"Trinity?" Cedar's size was deceptive. She had some heft behind her skinny ribcage- Adele at home, as Tenshi had once colorfully put it. She projected, just enough to cut through the sudden racket in the warehouse if you listened for the human somewhere in the terrifying cacophony. "It's Cedar and Fitz, we're not going to hurt you! Are you in trouble?" Her concern for others was temporarily louder than her personal agony. Wouldn't last long.
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- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
When Cedar stumbled and fell to her knees, Fitz took a few more steps down the stairs. Not as fast as he might have done normally, were someone to collapse nearby, and there was some hesitance beforehand.
Still, he was moving that way when two screams rung out. He ducked, fumbling with the magazine that he’d taken out of the rifle. But he immediately dropped said magazine, and it slipped through the substantial gap in the metal stairs and clattered to the ground. Fitz grimaced and rummaged in his bag for another one as he remained where he was, closer to the bottom of the stairs than the top of them.
The screams had come from two different directions. One hoarse, high-pitched and oddly inhuman in a different way than the other.
Cedar was already off towards the more humanoid scream, insisting that she knew the source. Fitz raised a hand to stop her, but her focus was already in the other direction.
“Cedar!” he hissed. "Don't run towards--...okay." He lowered his hand, mouth tightening before he stared around for the other one. Then back to Cedar heading off towards where Trinity possibly was.
Eyes shut for a moment, shaking his head slightly, before he opened them again and snapped the second magazine back into place on the gun. He otherwise remained where he was, keeping an eye (but not the scope) on Cedar, but occasionally looking around (again with his eyes, keeping the scope firmly at the ground) for the source of the more inhuman of the two screams.
Still, he was moving that way when two screams rung out. He ducked, fumbling with the magazine that he’d taken out of the rifle. But he immediately dropped said magazine, and it slipped through the substantial gap in the metal stairs and clattered to the ground. Fitz grimaced and rummaged in his bag for another one as he remained where he was, closer to the bottom of the stairs than the top of them.
The screams had come from two different directions. One hoarse, high-pitched and oddly inhuman in a different way than the other.
Cedar was already off towards the more humanoid scream, insisting that she knew the source. Fitz raised a hand to stop her, but her focus was already in the other direction.
“Cedar!” he hissed. "Don't run towards--...okay." He lowered his hand, mouth tightening before he stared around for the other one. Then back to Cedar heading off towards where Trinity possibly was.
Eyes shut for a moment, shaking his head slightly, before he opened them again and snapped the second magazine back into place on the gun. He otherwise remained where he was, keeping an eye (but not the scope) on Cedar, but occasionally looking around (again with his eyes, keeping the scope firmly at the ground) for the source of the more inhuman of the two screams.
- BlizzardeyeWonder
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:41 pm
- Location: the shadow realm
Unknowingly, Tenshi wandered into a sniper's view, a fashionably wintery-dressed lady with her surprisingly colour-coordinated tan duffel bag fiddling with her skull-shaped whistle. The terrorists must be either idiots or jesters, calling a weird dog whistle a weapon. She couldn't hear very high frequencies anyway without her hearing aids, but if a dog whistle was too high for a person to hear, how could it hurt them? Her parents were always worried about that which is why they never got a dog whistle for Milk, the family Samoyed, but it never made sense to Tenshi.
But then again, dreams and weird non-canon side story scenarios didn't always make sense. She'd have a blast texting Cedar about this at 4 AM though.
But then again, dreams and weird non-canon side story scenarios didn't always make sense. She'd have a blast texting Cedar about this at 4 AM though.
“F-Fuck off!”
Trinity whimpered, nails digging into her skin, clasping her hands over her ears to try and block the entire universe out, unable to muffle her own thunderous heartbeat or relentless hyperventilation. Her glasses were askew, and she quickly batted at them to level them out again, only to knock them awry once more when she grabbed hold of her skull again. Thin, light brown strands of hair stuck to her gloves, like wildly curving cracks in her very hands. Visions of a head bursting into globules of blood and bone, and of gas-masked figures vanishing into smoke flooded her mind.
She needed to be left alone, right fucking now.
“Fuck off! F-fucking, fuck off, okay!”
The barrage of noise filled the tiny storeroom, mixing with her own panicked breathing to completely drown her thoughts out. She needed it all to stop, right now, right the fuck now, she needed to be left alone in the dark, all by herself, so she could breathe again, think again, so that she could come up with a plan, she needed a plan, she needed direction, she needed even the tiniest goal so that level herself again, she needed that godawful gutteral screaming noise that was ringing in her ears to stop, stop, stop.
“Leave m-me the FUCK alone!”
Trinity whimpered, nails digging into her skin, clasping her hands over her ears to try and block the entire universe out, unable to muffle her own thunderous heartbeat or relentless hyperventilation. Her glasses were askew, and she quickly batted at them to level them out again, only to knock them awry once more when she grabbed hold of her skull again. Thin, light brown strands of hair stuck to her gloves, like wildly curving cracks in her very hands. Visions of a head bursting into globules of blood and bone, and of gas-masked figures vanishing into smoke flooded her mind.
She needed to be left alone, right fucking now.
“Fuck off! F-fucking, fuck off, okay!”
The barrage of noise filled the tiny storeroom, mixing with her own panicked breathing to completely drown her thoughts out. She needed it all to stop, right now, right the fuck now, she needed to be left alone in the dark, all by herself, so she could breathe again, think again, so that she could come up with a plan, she needed a plan, she needed direction, she needed even the tiniest goal so that level herself again, she needed that godawful gutteral screaming noise that was ringing in her ears to stop, stop, stop.
“Leave m-me the FUCK alone!”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Probably wasn't going to work! Two immediate facts: Trinity was in enough hysterics (relatable, understandable, valid) that she didn't realize she was screaming louder than the horror movie SFX so bassy it was still managing to bounce off the walls even diminished. Other fact: Cedar's burst of daring heroics had barely been walking pace. She'd just felt like she was leaping into the fray, but she'd kind of already hit her limit. The aneurysm shaped throb right at the crick of her neck warning her viscerally that it was about to burst poked and prodded her with each moment that she rapidly lost steam, as reality caught up with her.
It had been inspiring for a moment. Now she was dizzily staring at the floor as her knees only barely kept her aloft. She wanted to lie down, puke, cry. Ideally not in that specific order but she'd take what she could get.
She was now overheating, sweaty and panting in half gulps. Body heat in excess was trapped under the change of clothes she'd bought for the trip- a #e2725a western style jacket Tenshi had insisted was ideal. Cedar missed her best friend's voice. Specifically because it was arrogant and annoying and it made her happy whenever she heard it. In the face of the horrors befallen onto their class it was such a petty thing, and that was why it stood out so much in Cedar's adrenaline washed, mildly delirious mind.
Oh god, they would take Tenshi's aids, wouldn't they? Cedar had already realized it to be sure, but now she was too tired to even pretend to hope otherwise. She continued to stare at the ground, overwhelmed by helplessness, robbed of momentum so thoroughly even her lungs were barely bothering to work. The only reason she didn't suddenly scream in grief was because she was way too tired to. Bless Trinity's lungs, they had that much still going for them.
With difficulty Cedar realized she'd disoriented herself, and it took her a moment to glance back Fitz's way so she could stare at him fish faced as if he'd have anymore answers to their problems than he usually did. Maybe she could apologize for her half minute of trying to play hero or something. At least it'd be something marginally productive to do.
It had been inspiring for a moment. Now she was dizzily staring at the floor as her knees only barely kept her aloft. She wanted to lie down, puke, cry. Ideally not in that specific order but she'd take what she could get.
She was now overheating, sweaty and panting in half gulps. Body heat in excess was trapped under the change of clothes she'd bought for the trip- a #e2725a western style jacket Tenshi had insisted was ideal. Cedar missed her best friend's voice. Specifically because it was arrogant and annoying and it made her happy whenever she heard it. In the face of the horrors befallen onto their class it was such a petty thing, and that was why it stood out so much in Cedar's adrenaline washed, mildly delirious mind.
Oh god, they would take Tenshi's aids, wouldn't they? Cedar had already realized it to be sure, but now she was too tired to even pretend to hope otherwise. She continued to stare at the ground, overwhelmed by helplessness, robbed of momentum so thoroughly even her lungs were barely bothering to work. The only reason she didn't suddenly scream in grief was because she was way too tired to. Bless Trinity's lungs, they had that much still going for them.
With difficulty Cedar realized she'd disoriented herself, and it took her a moment to glance back Fitz's way so she could stare at him fish faced as if he'd have anymore answers to their problems than he usually did. Maybe she could apologize for her half minute of trying to play hero or something. At least it'd be something marginally productive to do.
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“She sounds fine,” Fitz said, voice slightly strained. “Someone dying wouldn’t tell you to go away.” He wasn’t looking at Cedar as he spoke, instead still looking around for the second source.
Fitz saw movement. It was distant. Difficult to make out, in particular, what the figure was holding from this distance. Fitz lifted the sniper rifle again, awkward and not at all held right in his lanky arms while he was crouched on the stairs. He peered through the scope.
The figure was recognised. Tenshi. No injuries were evident. No source of the screams. She was holding an item in her hand. Skull-shaped.
Fitz considered her briefly, not saying anything to Cedar about what he was looking at.
Tenshi lifted the odd skull-shaped item to her mouth.
That scream tore through the air again, inhuman yet also far too human. Fitz’s grip jerked on the gun.
The safety and the trigger were both very close to each other.
The gun went off in his hands.
“Crap,” he muttered, like he’d spilled a soda.
Fitz saw movement. It was distant. Difficult to make out, in particular, what the figure was holding from this distance. Fitz lifted the sniper rifle again, awkward and not at all held right in his lanky arms while he was crouched on the stairs. He peered through the scope.
The figure was recognised. Tenshi. No injuries were evident. No source of the screams. She was holding an item in her hand. Skull-shaped.
Fitz considered her briefly, not saying anything to Cedar about what he was looking at.
Tenshi lifted the odd skull-shaped item to her mouth.
That scream tore through the air again, inhuman yet also far too human. Fitz’s grip jerked on the gun.
The safety and the trigger were both very close to each other.
The gun went off in his hands.
“Crap,” he muttered, like he’d spilled a soda.
- BlizzardeyeWonder
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:41 pm
- Location: the shadow realm
Maybe her weapon was actually a dog! Of course it'd be weird for the terrorists to put the dog down here, but-
There was an explosion from somewhere, and it felt and faintly sounded a little like a jet crashed past her face. She turned around - a bullet hole in the pipes! Someone was after her already? She wasn't even that mean to her classmates! (Shouldn't they be going after bitches like Ash at this point in the game?! Tenshi was practically an innocent little lamb next to her.)
But the moment her legs stopped locking up, she picked up her heavy skirts and ran. She ran further into the building, hoping she'd get away from the sights of the mystery killer-on-the-loose.
Well, on the plus side, maybe the dream or non-canon spinoff or whatever would end when she died, and she would just have a grand old adventure about it. She had to remember to write it down somewhere when she woke up - apparently nobody gave a fuck about what people dreamed about, but Cedar would have listened anyway. To be honest, SOTF was one of those things Tenshi tried not to think about, but maybe her subconscious did. Maybe her subconscious decided to be terrified of her life ending before it even got started for her.
She yelled "HELP!" after running some ways in, slowly and cumbersomely in her winter dress, but she slowed more. Her yelling sounded... heavily muffled, somehow. Distant even though she could feel it in her lungs and throat. She called again - "HELP!" It was the same.
Her pace slowed to a halt. "H-help...?"
There was an explosion from somewhere, and it felt and faintly sounded a little like a jet crashed past her face. She turned around - a bullet hole in the pipes! Someone was after her already? She wasn't even that mean to her classmates! (Shouldn't they be going after bitches like Ash at this point in the game?! Tenshi was practically an innocent little lamb next to her.)
But the moment her legs stopped locking up, she picked up her heavy skirts and ran. She ran further into the building, hoping she'd get away from the sights of the mystery killer-on-the-loose.
Well, on the plus side, maybe the dream or non-canon spinoff or whatever would end when she died, and she would just have a grand old adventure about it. She had to remember to write it down somewhere when she woke up - apparently nobody gave a fuck about what people dreamed about, but Cedar would have listened anyway. To be honest, SOTF was one of those things Tenshi tried not to think about, but maybe her subconscious did. Maybe her subconscious decided to be terrified of her life ending before it even got started for her.
She yelled "HELP!" after running some ways in, slowly and cumbersomely in her winter dress, but she slowed more. Her yelling sounded... heavily muffled, somehow. Distant even though she could feel it in her lungs and throat. She called again - "HELP!" It was the same.
Her pace slowed to a halt. "H-help...?"
There was silence. For a perfect, brief moment, there was silence.
Trinity held her breath, almost unable to believe that she had actually been granted her moment of sanctuary. Slowly, timidly, she lowered her hands from her ears, placing them on the floor, wincing at how disgustingly dusty and sticky the ground was. Her heart was still pounding away, and her breathing was strangled and harried, but was it starting to slow down now? Yes, yes she thought it was, slowly but definitely, working its way down to a point where it would allow her mind to slot back into place.
She pushed herself up (God, she did not need to think about the years of accumulated filth that had settled inside this room on top of all the other shit), stumbling in the dark and pressing her hand flat against the wall she was facing, as her legs set and solidified once more. Her eyes had acclimatised enough to the darkness that she could see the outline of a plastic bucket and mop at her feet, several industrial size bottles of cleaner, the diagonal line that was the polearm she’d been so lovingly given. She was getting there. Oh, she was getting back to her normal self again, she could feel it. She could breathe again. She could think.
And then, carving the silence apart, disemboweling it without a shred of mercy, that twisted, tortured screaming started up again, and she cried out in chorus with it, tears springing forth again as panic rose up inside of her, almost dragging her back down to the ground on her knees. God, what the fuck even was that noise, it was inhuman sounding, but what the hell else could it even be? What was going on outside of this room, and why wouldn’t they leave her the fuck al-
The explosion echoed through the processing plant, so loud and so sudden, making Trinity shriek in fear and back away from the door, knocking over her weapon and pressing into the row of shelves lined up against the far wall. She knew what that noise was. She’d heard it on films so many times before, on practically every other episode of every single TV show. It was haunting, hearing it in person. The power. The intent behind it. A tool used for one singular purpose, let loose just outside the room she was trapped in.
Jesus. Oh, jesus, jesus jesus, she knew she had been right to have nothing to do with the motherfucker outside.
Trinity knelt down, and scooped up her weapon, clutching it tightly with both hands, as her knees knocked together. She heard the screams. The desperate pleas for help. There was someone else out there, one of her classmates being targeted, on the run if the accompanying footsteps suggested anything.
Then that meant that she was safe for now. Whoever was outside, they were the one in the crosshairs of the mystery gunslinger. They were a perfect distraction. She could stay in here a little while longer. She could collect her thoughts. She could make a plan.
She took a tentative step closer to the door, listening to everything she could, now.
Trinity held her breath, almost unable to believe that she had actually been granted her moment of sanctuary. Slowly, timidly, she lowered her hands from her ears, placing them on the floor, wincing at how disgustingly dusty and sticky the ground was. Her heart was still pounding away, and her breathing was strangled and harried, but was it starting to slow down now? Yes, yes she thought it was, slowly but definitely, working its way down to a point where it would allow her mind to slot back into place.
She pushed herself up (God, she did not need to think about the years of accumulated filth that had settled inside this room on top of all the other shit), stumbling in the dark and pressing her hand flat against the wall she was facing, as her legs set and solidified once more. Her eyes had acclimatised enough to the darkness that she could see the outline of a plastic bucket and mop at her feet, several industrial size bottles of cleaner, the diagonal line that was the polearm she’d been so lovingly given. She was getting there. Oh, she was getting back to her normal self again, she could feel it. She could breathe again. She could think.
And then, carving the silence apart, disemboweling it without a shred of mercy, that twisted, tortured screaming started up again, and she cried out in chorus with it, tears springing forth again as panic rose up inside of her, almost dragging her back down to the ground on her knees. God, what the fuck even was that noise, it was inhuman sounding, but what the hell else could it even be? What was going on outside of this room, and why wouldn’t they leave her the fuck al-
The explosion echoed through the processing plant, so loud and so sudden, making Trinity shriek in fear and back away from the door, knocking over her weapon and pressing into the row of shelves lined up against the far wall. She knew what that noise was. She’d heard it on films so many times before, on practically every other episode of every single TV show. It was haunting, hearing it in person. The power. The intent behind it. A tool used for one singular purpose, let loose just outside the room she was trapped in.
Jesus. Oh, jesus, jesus jesus, she knew she had been right to have nothing to do with the motherfucker outside.
Trinity knelt down, and scooped up her weapon, clutching it tightly with both hands, as her knees knocked together. She heard the screams. The desperate pleas for help. There was someone else out there, one of her classmates being targeted, on the run if the accompanying footsteps suggested anything.
Then that meant that she was safe for now. Whoever was outside, they were the one in the crosshairs of the mystery gunslinger. They were a perfect distraction. She could stay in here a little while longer. She could collect her thoughts. She could make a plan.
She took a tentative step closer to the door, listening to everything she could, now.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
She was unfazed for a moment, even through the literal sounds of hell. It was like reaching the upper limit of her processing capacity. Guns were loud, The More You Know. The more she knew, the more she wished she didn't.
She was afraid of learning anything further, it boiled down to that. No amount of bravado could assuage the chill in her spine, separate and mightier to all the other assorted sensations of her mortal flesh, as she wondered who her boyfriend had just killed.
Then she realized who it was- and how much they weren't dead yet.
Maaaaaaybe I'm a little biased against denim, but it's not my fault it keeps getting used where it really shouldn't be.
Say what you will about Tenshi. Cedar did it all the time. But that girl was legitimately one of the only reasons Cedar was still bothering to try and stay alive and try and touch grass. In and among all the faces that Cedar kept memory of, neatly stacked up in her couple sticks' worth of RAM, there she was, the one and the only, the she's an idiot but she's my idiot of JEM.
Cedar knew better than to call out. She just booked it- at the speed of a mobility scooter half tank.
Like, sure, she'd just promised herself to stop running off to help others in a setting where that was probably a trap of the figurative and literal sense at the same time, but. This was Tenshi. It was different.
And they'd definitely taken her aids. She sounded exactly like she did in the rare times she didn't know what she sounded like- her pitch was a bit off, modulating like any typical fourth grader learning the recorder. Cedar redoubled her efforts. Not much extra to get out of her sorely lame body, but she pushed it as much as was possible. She recalled someone on the busses had been dealing with a broken leg- Cedar wasn't the only one broken beyond the class average, she had no excuse.
She found Tenshi, moments later. They hadn't actually been that far apart? Or maybe the stress had compressed a minute of running (away from the guy with a gun who could theoretically protect her) into a single moment of desperate flailing. Here and now was Cedar, emerging from the spaghetti of conveyors and nameless machines with the same sheen of sweat she usually had on her forehead when seconds from passing out.
And then the awkward moment ruining the melodrama of their reunion where Cedar's fingers stalled, the stress robbing her of a non native language's fundamentals. She picked it up though.'
<<PRINCESS>>. Ojou-sama, for those so inclined (like the both of them). She forgot the words for a joke or a heartfelt declaration of platonic love, something something, no profoundness to be had, just a: <<GLAD--SAFE>>.
She was afraid of learning anything further, it boiled down to that. No amount of bravado could assuage the chill in her spine, separate and mightier to all the other assorted sensations of her mortal flesh, as she wondered who her boyfriend had just killed.
Then she realized who it was- and how much they weren't dead yet.
Maaaaaaybe I'm a little biased against denim, but it's not my fault it keeps getting used where it really shouldn't be.
Say what you will about Tenshi. Cedar did it all the time. But that girl was legitimately one of the only reasons Cedar was still bothering to try and stay alive and try and touch grass. In and among all the faces that Cedar kept memory of, neatly stacked up in her couple sticks' worth of RAM, there she was, the one and the only, the she's an idiot but she's my idiot of JEM.
Cedar knew better than to call out. She just booked it- at the speed of a mobility scooter half tank.
Like, sure, she'd just promised herself to stop running off to help others in a setting where that was probably a trap of the figurative and literal sense at the same time, but. This was Tenshi. It was different.
And they'd definitely taken her aids. She sounded exactly like she did in the rare times she didn't know what she sounded like- her pitch was a bit off, modulating like any typical fourth grader learning the recorder. Cedar redoubled her efforts. Not much extra to get out of her sorely lame body, but she pushed it as much as was possible. She recalled someone on the busses had been dealing with a broken leg- Cedar wasn't the only one broken beyond the class average, she had no excuse.
She found Tenshi, moments later. They hadn't actually been that far apart? Or maybe the stress had compressed a minute of running (away from the guy with a gun who could theoretically protect her) into a single moment of desperate flailing. Here and now was Cedar, emerging from the spaghetti of conveyors and nameless machines with the same sheen of sweat she usually had on her forehead when seconds from passing out.
And then the awkward moment ruining the melodrama of their reunion where Cedar's fingers stalled, the stress robbing her of a non native language's fundamentals. She picked it up though.'
<<PRINCESS>>. Ojou-sama, for those so inclined (like the both of them). She forgot the words for a joke or a heartfelt declaration of platonic love, something something, no profoundness to be had, just a: <<GLAD--SAFE>>.
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- Posts: 1442
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
Fitz lowered the rifle in time to see the remnants of a small explosion in one of the pipes. Tenshi remained unharmed, if panicked. Fitz exhaled and pointed the gun back at the ground, carefully prodding the safety back on.
Cedar was slowly chugging towards Tenshi. Fitz stood up and flailed one arm upwards.
"Sorry!" he called out. "Big whoops! ...Uh, I mean, misfire!"
He then moved to sit down again, a smaller target, but halfway sighed and just ended up in an awkward crouch before his attention turned towards the closet that was the source of the more human screaming.
He glanced over at Cedar and Tenshi, then refocused on the closet before he moved back down the stairs to their level and started to slowly approach the closet. Gun loaded, but pointed firmly at the ground and away from any known figures.
Cedar was slowly chugging towards Tenshi. Fitz stood up and flailed one arm upwards.
"Sorry!" he called out. "Big whoops! ...Uh, I mean, misfire!"
He then moved to sit down again, a smaller target, but halfway sighed and just ended up in an awkward crouch before his attention turned towards the closet that was the source of the more human screaming.
He glanced over at Cedar and Tenshi, then refocused on the closet before he moved back down the stairs to their level and started to slowly approach the closet. Gun loaded, but pointed firmly at the ground and away from any known figures.
- BlizzardeyeWonder
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:41 pm
- Location: the shadow realm
Tenshi was blind with panic. She checked her pockets, and she was rummaging through the bag when she saw someone approaching in her peripheral vision. For a moment after she realized, she kept her eyes off the other figure. If she was going to find her hearing aids anywhere, it wouldn't be in that bag, but...
...slowly, she lifted her head. Anyone who could see her face would see her misty eyes, and her panic. "Cedar," she breathed (if someone else spoke to her at this volume, she wouldn't have a chance at catching what they were saying).
Cedar, a lifeline in a Platoon where Tenshi arguably didn't really belong, what with only being one-quarter or one-half Pinoy depending on how you measured it but she didn't really press on it despite the other mountains of difference between the two of them. Cedar, always giving too much for her own good - too much energy, too much time, she looked like she just ran a marathon and Tenshi wasn't convinced that she wouldn't, for a friend. Cedar, who Tenshi told everything except how she never liked her new boyfriends (forget those amigos! not that Cedar ever would, she was terminally attracted to losers). Cedar, her best friend in the entire school - no, the entire world.
And slower still, Tenshi lifted herself up, leaving a bag open on the floor, its contents and Tenshi herself messier than when she started. But she couldn't help but crack a smile when Cedar signed princess. Raising her hand, she scrunched the fingers into her palms, stretched them, then fingerspelled <<C-E-D-A-R>> to warm up her hands. She wasn't fluent in signing, just working on it for some seemingly-inevitable future where her hearing aids would stop being effective and she would either need that fluency or get implants. Implants... at least she didn't have to choose now.
But first things first, <<HOW--KNOW?>> Tenshi showed confusion on her face for the sake of grammar (it's true - one of the first things she learned was that facial expressions are a part of ASL grammar, so Tenshi - ever one for melodrama, may she add - always kept it in mind).
She continued.
<<THEY>> she pointed up above for "they", at where she imagined a camera might be located. Cedar would understand exactly who they were.
<<TAKE>> her hand started by her ear, positioned as though ready to grab something, then moved towards the up-above she was gesturing to earlier, ending with a fist, as in grabbing a fistful (but also kind of as in shaking a fist because damn right she was upset about it all).
<<HEARING-AID>> you didn't strictly need to do this, but Tenshi pushed aside her hair to sign right on her hearing-aid-less ear.
She slowly exhaled. It was if with each sign, more of her shitty circumstance came out of a low-definition dreamy haze and into crisp and clear reality. It was almost too much.
But, she kept her hand raised. <<GIVE--DOG--WHISTLE>>, she signed and then raised the creepy little thing.
...slowly, she lifted her head. Anyone who could see her face would see her misty eyes, and her panic. "Cedar," she breathed (if someone else spoke to her at this volume, she wouldn't have a chance at catching what they were saying).
Cedar, a lifeline in a Platoon where Tenshi arguably didn't really belong, what with only being one-quarter or one-half Pinoy depending on how you measured it but she didn't really press on it despite the other mountains of difference between the two of them. Cedar, always giving too much for her own good - too much energy, too much time, she looked like she just ran a marathon and Tenshi wasn't convinced that she wouldn't, for a friend. Cedar, who Tenshi told everything except how she never liked her new boyfriends (forget those amigos! not that Cedar ever would, she was terminally attracted to losers). Cedar, her best friend in the entire school - no, the entire world.
And slower still, Tenshi lifted herself up, leaving a bag open on the floor, its contents and Tenshi herself messier than when she started. But she couldn't help but crack a smile when Cedar signed princess. Raising her hand, she scrunched the fingers into her palms, stretched them, then fingerspelled <<C-E-D-A-R>> to warm up her hands. She wasn't fluent in signing, just working on it for some seemingly-inevitable future where her hearing aids would stop being effective and she would either need that fluency or get implants. Implants... at least she didn't have to choose now.
But first things first, <<HOW--KNOW?>> Tenshi showed confusion on her face for the sake of grammar (it's true - one of the first things she learned was that facial expressions are a part of ASL grammar, so Tenshi - ever one for melodrama, may she add - always kept it in mind).
She continued.
<<THEY>> she pointed up above for "they", at where she imagined a camera might be located. Cedar would understand exactly who they were.
<<TAKE>> her hand started by her ear, positioned as though ready to grab something, then moved towards the up-above she was gesturing to earlier, ending with a fist, as in grabbing a fistful (but also kind of as in shaking a fist because damn right she was upset about it all).
<<HEARING-AID>> you didn't strictly need to do this, but Tenshi pushed aside her hair to sign right on her hearing-aid-less ear.
She slowly exhaled. It was if with each sign, more of her shitty circumstance came out of a low-definition dreamy haze and into crisp and clear reality. It was almost too much.
But, she kept her hand raised. <<GIVE--DOG--WHISTLE>>, she signed and then raised the creepy little thing.