sixpercent | i. my name is death and the end is near.

what has been left after the plagues is a constellation of ghost towns.

the lone survivors walk the streets of an emptied world, one that alternates swiftly between discomfortingly eerie silence and chaotic brutality. it doesn't seem to understand moderation, the pendulum swinging from one extreme to the other in the space of a heartbeat. there are times when it feels like you are the only person left in the ruins - like you will be driven mad by the nightmares and the grievous silence that follows. and there are other times. times when you know you are not alone in the darkness, not with the rift opening up one last time to pour into the cracks every monster it has in its arsenal; you must protect yourself.

careful where you step. you might stumble on rotting bodies across desolate lawns. you might stumble on rioters fueled by flagg's nightmares until they committed to his deadly causes - believing you to be the enemy. if you're lucky, you'll cross paths with those who, like you, are trying to find a place to lay their weary heads. if you're not, pray to what gods you believe in that someone hears you.

prayer may be all you have left.

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[She isn't worried about the weapon. If he wanted to hurt her, he could do so easily. She doesn't know how to defend herself. She's never had to try. She's good at hiding and healing, and that's about it.

Thankfully, he doesn't attack her. In fact, he makes a point to appear nonthreatening. Letting out a small breath of relief, Myrilandel continues to move towards him.]

I am. Please, let me help.

[She's about ten seconds away from healing whether he wants her to or not, but she's trying to be polite here.]

[David smirks a little that she's asking. Some angels of healing rush in and shove their hands on someone without saying anything. Next thing the person knows they're feeling all warm and tingly without any idea why. She's trying to be polite about it by askin' first.

David's... well, David's a whole other story. From birth, he's been a whole other story really.]

Sure, yeah. [I said half distractedly as the room's spinnin' a bit. Maybe he has some serious blood loss going on. He's got a southern accent] Don't let me get in the way of my own healin'.

[She looks relieved to hear the permission, wasting no time before she rushes to close the distance and places her hands over his wounds. Seconds later, she's pouring out a warm healing glow that stitched together his cuts, his body bolstering to recover from the blood loss. She looks content in that moment, peaceful. She's doing what she's meant to, what she was born to do.

As it starts to fade, she gives him a concerned look.]

What happened to you? [Now she can ask, now she can think about anything beyond the need to heal him.]

[David glances down at the wound and then up at her face to see how content and peaceful she looks. It makes his stomach twist up, thinking that's how he probably looks whenever he does it. Calling not only compels you to do the thing. It makes you like the thing too.

That's how his mom died a long, long time ago.]

Monsters. Came right out of some rift. Cause y'know... that's just what we were asking for in the middle of this apoca-hell. Killed a couple. Hopefully lost the last one. [There's a pause then as he runs his hand over the wound which is no longer there. He smirks after a moment, remembering manners a few seconds too late.] Thank you... by the way.

It's no trouble. [She says, waving her hand as she pulls back and gives him some space.] I'm just glad I was here to help.

[She can't be everywhere at once, can't save every life. But she can and will do everything in her power to keep people safe, keep them alive.]

My name is Myrilandel. [A family name, passed down for generations.]

Sort of is. I'm an angel of healing too. Know how exhausting it is.

[David's not nearly so self sacrificing though. He saw what it did to his mother. He saw how she could never find the time to stop and then she was just dead right in front of him, saving people. He got all kinds of angry at it back then but now he's just accepting of it and accepting of what he doesn't want to embrace.

Knows he's got to. Slippery slope.] Sounds like the name of an elegant Queen from a fantasy novel. I'm just David. Name's in the Bible but that book's real overrated.

[Her gaze snaps back to his face when he says that. He had said it before, but she had been too lost in her Calling to really hear him. Now, without any healing that needs to be done, she can focus more on what he's actually saying.]

You're..? Sorry, you're just the first I've met. My mother tells me my father had the Calling as well, but he-- I never met him.

[She shakes her head, not wanting to linger in that thought.]

The name belonged to my grandmother on my mother's side. From what I've heard, it's been passed down every few generations. I go by Myri for short.

[David looks back over at her at what she says. A specific Calling doesn't always run in a family, but it did in his too.]

Yeah. Ain't exactly a lot of us. One of the rarer Callings or so they say. My Ma had the Calling too.

[It killed her, and it'll kill this lovely lady too if she ain't careful and he's gonna bet she's not. He smiles a little at her.]

I like it. I'll just use your full name if you're ever in Trouble. [He's kidding. It's clear by the smile tugging on his face.] So you... okay? Apocalypse and all...

[She finds herself smiling in return, or managing as much of one as she's been able to muster sine all of this started. Her head ducks down a bit, a small shake of her head following.]

I'm fine. Or- as fine as one can be. I'm not hurt. I'm not sick. I'm just... here. Trying to get by.

[David's gaze drifts over her when she smiles in return, and a little smile tugs across his face too eve if he gets it.]

All anyone can do when the whole world's gone to shit like this. Try to get by. [He pushes himself up to his feet, completely healed now, reaching a hand out to her to help her to her feet too.] You searched the place yet?

[Her frame is small, almost fragile in appearance. As her hand slips into his, it's practically dwarfed by his own. She stands easily and gives him a quick nod.]

I had started to when I heard you. There's some food in the kitchen, but more than half of it's spoiled. I was just starting to search the second floor. Care to join me in finishing the job?

i. my name is death and the end is near.

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