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

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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ a young woman sits on the grass with a rifle in hand.

her clothes are dirtied, a gash covers her forehead, and she looks like she hasn't eaten or slept in days.

the stillness lena currently exhibits is deceiving at best, considering the whirlpool of emotions she is warring against. said emotions might have something to do with the body crumpled at an odd angle beside her. she sits as if she is guarding it; like she may just claw someone's face off if they dare touch it.

eventually, she will have to accept that gina is dead and she needs to keep moving. but she is not ready yet. ]

[the world is over as they know it.

he doesn't know who is alive or who isn't of his family except most of them are dead like everybody else, and somehow jake's still here, walking through the many bodies lining the streets. there's a gun in his hand, because you can't- you can't move without one in this world without one anymore. you'll be killed by monsters. he hides from the rioters as he doesn't want to put a bullet through scared, desperate people, but-

he sees the young woman in the middle of the street over the crumpled body behind her, and ain't that just familiar as hell? it is. it strikes him through the chord in that real unshakable way, right down to his bones, right into his heart. she could put a bullet in him right now or just tear him to pieces if he got too close. he doesn't know who the other woman is behind her, but she ain't ready to leave her yet.

jake stops a few feet away from her, lifting up his hands as if to say he isn't gonna shoot or come closer than she wants him to.]

...hey there.

[noah lost both his parents long before the end of the world came, and they were his only real family except his best friend, seth. his best friend who is now dead like so many other people in the world. he'd survived so long before getting so fucking sick, and noah had falsely believed by some miracle they'd make it through this shit together. it was stupid thinking. he got too hopeful when he should have known- people were dying left and right, and seth joined them.

now he's- now he's burying him, trying to dig a hole deep enough to put seth into who is currently covered in a blanket, because like hell is he leaving his body out- his body out for the monsters roaming around the place instead. he's a little out from the city they lived in, him and seth, they'd made a camp out here and then he started getting sick. there's a tent. there's a fire pit, smoke's still coming up from it through the open area.

he stares down at the pit he's creating, sweaty, tired. he needs to find water, needs to find food, but mostly he's just digging right now, digging and digging. his fingertips grip hold of the shovel like it's both weapon and the only thing he can hold on to.]

[david parker has taken out a couple of monsters though they sure as hell got their hits on in him. it's left a cut on his arm deep enough to leave a trail of blood for the next monster to follow. painful enough that it's hard to hold on to with the sword he has on him. being an angel of healing, it would be nice if the entire quick healing bit could work on himself, but it only works on other people. ...it only works on other people sometimes. he couldn't save anyone from the plague though his calling sure as hell made him try again and again, wandering so far from his home long before the world finally went to hell.

not that he's been able to heal anyone else. so many sick people. he lost it somewhere around the end of the world, had to knock himself out over and over again with tranquilziers so the calling didn't break his brain, didn't get him killed. now there are so many dead people, more dead than sick or hurting-. he's lucky he got free, but he ended up so far away from the people he was originally with, and now there's no way to contact them. cellphone lines down, and he's bleeding everywhere as he shoves himself into the nearest house he can find, pressing his back up against the wall as he shoves the door closed and pushes items in front of the door to barricade it as best he can.

he doesn't realize he's not alone in here, dripping blood on the floor as he sinks down on to it, trying to catch his breath.]

[The dreams-- well, nightmares, really-- have left Zin a little shaken. Before the end of the world, he had loving parents, a twin sister. Friends, girlfriends, exes that glared at him when he passed them on the street. He had a past, a present, and what he had thought was a decent future.

He had a normal life then, but now?

Now he has nightmares, images of his loved ones dead or dying, of what's left of the world burning up all around him, of some nameless, faceless person calling out for him, needing him.

He's been running from that long before the world ended, though.

So he does everything he can to keep from sleeping, keeps moving, keeps surviving. With a bag of supplies slung over one shoulder and a knife tucked into his pocket, Zin sticks to main roads but keeps to himself. It's not until he comes across a small town somewhere outside of St Louis that he stops to try to find a place to rest for the night.

Finding a house that's secure enough isn't easy, but Zinoviy is persistent. Besides, he's got to find something to keep himself awake for most of the night to avoid a deep, dream haunted sleep anyway.]

[Myrilandel has had a hard time adjusting to this new world of theirs. Her own Calling, the same as David's, has left her at a near constant exhaustion, feeling drawn to the nearest source of pain. She does her best, does what she can. She doesn't complain or resent it. If anything, she only wishes she could help more.

Perhaps she drove herself a little mad with it, but she never stopped, never tried to keep her distance. She threw herself into the thick of it, causing herself more heartache than anything else. But she survived, and all she can think is that there was a reason for that. So when she feels that tug in her gut, that pull towards someone who needs her, she doesn't hesitate.

Strangely, it's less of the Calling leading her and more of it coming to her. She sits upright as she hears the door close. She's been upstairs, just resting- or trying to. But now she knows that she's needed again. Carefully, she moves to head downstairs, each step cautious even if her abilities are telling her to move quicker. She pauses on the steps, looking down at him, lips pressed together as she eyes the weapon in his possession and all the blood.]

I can help.

[She says quietly, not bothering to say hello or introduce herself. But she knows better than to rush for someone who is armed.]

[Mara Elizabeth Samuelson was not prepared for the end of the world. At the tender age of 19, no one could expect her to know how to cope with friends and family dying all around her, with no way to stop it.

But prepared or not, her family was special and they knew that they had a greater purpose, that those of them that survived had work to do.

You see, the Samuelson family came from a very special line. Her father's blood carried a trait that granted them with an ability known as Sunrunning, the ability to find and speak with anyone so long as both parties were standing in sunlight. Mara had come into her abilities just a few years prior when she turned 15, but she had been raised in their traditions and knew of her gifts long before they manifested. Mara's father, older sister, and two cousins of roughly her age all survived. The rest of her family- including her mother was not so lucky. But there was hardly time to grieve when the world was falling apart all around them.

So they left their home in sunny Florida and spread out in all different directions. Mara took a car and traveled north, headed for the midwest and stopping somewhere in Ohio for gas.

It's colder here, which is difficult for her to adjust to, but at least it's a nice day. She tips her head back and lets the rays hit her face, allowing her mind to open up a channel, just in case her father or someone is trying to reach her.

Being the impulsive child that she is, sometimes she accidentally trips and starts a conversation with a non sunrunner without meaning to. It can often lead to a lot of confusion, but in times like these, sometimes it's just nice to hear another voice, even if it's only in your head.]

[ lena barely stirs, at first.

she's been trapped inside of her own head for hours, if only to ward off that voice - the one that threatens to leak into her thoughts and dreams when she least suspects it. she doesn't like admitting it, but she's terrified of him. not because of what he tempts her with, but because the things he says sometimes ring true. she was trying to get gina to go to boulder with her, but gina was refusing. she'd insisted on going to las vegas instead, that that's where they both belong, and now that doesn't matter.

she has been trained to assess when someone is a threat, and she can tell this person is doing his best to not appear as one. but she is not working with logic. ]

I'm not leaving her. [ he isn't the first person to stumble on them. ]

[ most people can only witness the process of dying; they see the rotting corpses left in the wake of a virus, or a violence, or a monster that's charged their way. as a witch with a connection to the other side, sarah's line of vision has been saturated with spirits. too much death all at once means the ghost world is experiencing cross wires as it attempts to tame the saturation - all while gladly welcoming every soul into its house. and because of the saturation, the other side has needed alternate modes of transportation - conduits through which these spirits can pass. they attach to the first available (and magical) host, in this case sarah.

it's all she can feel for days. spirit after spirit bleeding into her, agonizingly searching for the warmer light. they ram into her with desperation, and the process takes minutes that feel like hours. noah is the first living person she has stumbled on in days. ] They're all dead now.

[ her voice is faraway, filled with eerie whimsy. she locks eyes with noah, only for a brief moment, before she collapses at his feet. ]

Edited 2015-12-29 21:21 (UTC)

[ fun fact: the reason for this journal name is two-fold. rose is an avid reader, accustomed to devouring what books were placed in front of her from the time she was a little girl. but also, she is a shapeshifter, and her sense of smell is unforgivably strong when she is in animal form. that would be right now, btw.

fun fact number two: the secure house zinoviy eventually finds is one that rose claimed first. the end of the world is a scary ordeal no matter how you slice it, but it has been exceptionally distressing to rose; she has yet to find a single soul that communicates like she does. it's not like asl is taught everywhere. the only form of communication she's partaken in - for days - is through telltale dreams, and needless to say, she would rather not sleep anymore.

shapeshifting is triggered by visceral emotional reactions, but the emotion itself can define the shape rose ends up taking. days spent both distressed and grieving have led her to avoidance, and avoidance takes shape in the form of a small puppy zinoviy will stumble on once he crosses the threshold.

hi. ]

[ rachel banks has always liked believing that she's prepared for anything.

arguably the smartest girl in her class, she's excelled at most things she puts her mind to. she is determined, responsible, and resourceful. she's the cool head in a crisis, the calm port in a fiery storm. practical to the point of sterility, she is rarely ruled by her emotions despite the fact she obviously has them - she's an eighteen year old girl.

and despite the fact she's prided herself on Knowing, there was no way she could foresee or prepare for the end of the world. much less could she prepare for the chaos and loss that would inevitably follow. she lost her father when she was young, and for most of her life, it's been her and her mom. now it's just rachel, and she does not know. she has no idea what's going to happen once she reaches boulder. she has no idea that she has a latent ability that will only just now begin to manifest.

she's placed pillows and blankets in the trunk of her car; it's a pitiful attempt at a make-shift bed, and while she isn't keen on sleeping, she does need rest. a ray of sunlight hits her face, and a connection springs to life, startling her into a seated position. she speaks aloud, despite the fact she likely does not have to. ]

Who are you? [ and more importantly, is she losing her mind? ]

[ alek's never been the kind of person to have a bucket list. much less would he be the kind of person to have GO ON ROADTRIP as a part of said bucketlist, but if he were to be that kind of person? this isn't exactly the adventure he'd have in mind. he's been driving for hours with no end seemingly in sight, and the open roads are filled with eerie silence and not a single car to join him in his traveling. he doesn't have a way to communicate with his brothers, scattered across the country as they'd been, so he has no way of knowing whether or not they're alive. he's telling himself they are, because it's the only alternative he can live with.

it's a shitty car, for the record. alek could've bought a new one. if he kept the shitty car instead, it was purely for sentimental reasons, and now he's starting to regret that.

(sort of. he really loves this car.)

it breaks down as just before he reaches ohio, and he's thankfully close to a gas station. he can restock and acquire the tools necessary to give his baby some much needed tlc. he's also a werewolf with super strength, so he's casually pushing the car along with minimal effort until it comes to sit right beside mara's.

hi mara. ] ... Hey. [ s-so eloquent. ]

[David breathes in sharp. His hand tightens at his weapon before he stares up at her, letting his gaze drift over her in one quick, swift motion. He sees she is unarmed, and it's the reason he releases his hold on that weapon. That and he doesn't have the strength to wield it again. She's an angel like he is, and there's only one reason she would say that. Well, hell, maybe she's a nurse or knows some sort of first aid, but he's heard those words before from the last angel of healing he knew who actually made a habit of using their powers.

Saw the way it broke their brain like it was a fragile damn vase too. Won't let that happen to him. He's not drawn to some bigger cause. He's just a guy.

For as long as he can remember, he's tried getting high to squash that need to heal. He knew it'd get him killed someday or it'd break his brain completely, and who is he to say who gets healed and who doesn't get healed? Sure as hell nothing for him to say either way. He's no God. He's no halo and white wings and without-sin angel either except in the meaning this world has on it.

David keeps the weapon down and lifts the hand that was holding it to show her his palm, show her he's not going to aim or fire at her.]

You an angel of healing too?

[jake's hands remain up, and then after a second, he sinks down in that spot away from her. he knows those dreams. he doesn't yet realize he's not the only one to have them every other night, sometimes every night. hard to keep track of time when the mess of the world melts form one day into the next.

his voice is soft when he speaks.]

I know you're not. I ain't here to try and force you. [he plays with the straps of his backpack, looking through it quietly for a time before he speaks again]

What's her name?

[noah looks up in surprise when he hears the sudden voice. he'd been so engrossed in burying this hole, burying seth in it. he had been so focused in it he hadn't heard anyone walk up to him until she speaks. she speaks, and the sound of her voice nearly wrecks him before he's even met her gaze. then he meets her gaze, and something inside of him shatters

on multiple levels. she looks broken, she looks wrecked. and the moment their eyes meet, he's tied to her permanently. he can feel it like chains coming out from him to lock around her, and he doesn't even have time to rail against it because suddenly- suddenly she's collapsing at his feet

and he rushes forward, grabbing hold of her. the only words that can escape him as his heart pounds so furiously, worry rocks through him is:]

Oh, fuck. [she's his ward, he's her guardian, and she's collapsed in his arms. he lifts her up after a moment, worrying, biting on his lower lip, and bringing her to the tent, setting her down within the sleeping bag there

it's too hard, too much to process all at once. and he ends up setting her there, curling up, watching her as she sleeps. still

not able.

to process.]

[Well, he found a place to crash for the night. Step one complete. Step two is to figure out food. He has some in his bag but he likes to keep as much of that reserved as he can, just in case. He's just about to try to find the kitchen when all of a sudden there's a dog.

Not just a dog, but an adorable puppy. He blinks, as if he's forgotten what a puppy actually is.]

Hey little guy. [He says, crouching down and holding out a hand for the pup to sniff.] What are you doing in here?

[It was an accident. It usually is. Mara isn't really in control of her powers, which makes it all the more dangerous for her to use them- especially in times like these. But sometimes it just happens.

Sometimes she's just drawn to people, drawn to their energy.]

It's okay. [Mara's voice isn't audible really. It's in Rachel's mind and that's it. But it would give the distinct feeling of emerald green and pearl, if such a thing was possible.]

My name's Mara. Where are you? [She doesn't know just how far along the light she's traveled. And she's too curious about it for her own good.]

[It's the sound of the wheels crunching against asphalt that draws her attention. She peeks open one eye and then the other, turning her attention to the man pushing his car along with zero assistance.

Damn son.]

Hi. [She responds, just as eloquent. Her arms slowly unfold and fall to her sides as her mouth twists in deep thought as she regards him.]

Need a hand?

[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.]

[ his assurance he isn't here to force her helps a bit. some of the tension drains noticeably from lena's shoulders, though she keeps a tight hold on the rifle. her eyes, like a hawk, watch him as he sinks down across from her. he's respecting her space, and if she were in a better frame of mind, she'd even know what he's trying to do.

her gaze drifts to his backpack, swallowing past the tightness in her throat so she can answer. ]

Gina.

[ she blinks back tears. ] Her name's Georgina but she hates that, so everyone - I - call her Gina.

[ SHE IS SORRY SHE INTERRUPTED THE BURIAL OF YOUR BEST FRIEND, NOAH ...

she was so far out of it she didn't realize what she stumbled in on, but she will after the fact and for once in her life, feel terrible. she didn't see seth's spirit wandering nearby, so maybe he's already found the light, or a way to cross over to the other side without her. it's not like she's the only channel available, but she is one of the few. so much of the world - and not just its people - is dead. it's understandably worn her out, and her body and her mind alike need to recharge.

she sleeps for hours. it's the first time that her sleep is dreamless. she wakes long before her eyes start to open. ]

Staring is impolite.

[ jsyk. ]

[ w o w rude, she is a girl!! as if that's something you can tell just by looking at a puppy, rose. she stares at his hand warily, inching forward all the same. if he was one of those rioters, he'd have already busted the place up, wouldn't he? and they travel in packs. so she sniffs. oooh. smells like angel.

he is saying something, but rose can't hear it. she just vaguely sees the movement of his lips. this will not do. she duckwalks her way over until she has settled right into his palm, angling her head up now that she has a front row seat. repeat, pls. ]

Edited 2015-12-30 18:26 (UTC)

[ rachel straightens further, pushing her dark curls out of her face with shaky fingers. only a few weeks ago, she wouldn't have believed any of this. it would've been inconceivable to her. but the world is gone, monsters are real, and so is the devil. why not a girl living inside of her mind, too? ]

Toledo. [ rachel's own emission is closer to a rich sapphire blue, calm and steady. ] I'm in Toledo. How is this possible?

Maybe with directions?

[ alek brings a hand to scratch the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. he is a hundred percent not one of those guys who refuse to admit that he's kind of lost, but it doesn't make him feel any better about it. asking for him in general isn't easy, but it's not like he can ask google about it now.

rip, google. ): ]

I'm looking for ( insert interstate numbah right here ).

[ he'll reach indiana before he ever reaches colorado, but he's a man on a mission. preparing himself for a lot of corn sighting tbh. ]

[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'.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 5

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject