As the title suggests, feel free to RP it up.
Mon Jun 24, 2013 6:18 pm
The Beginning of the End
June 24. 2013.
New York. At its onset, a normal day. A monday. People waking up early in the morning, regretting letting the weekend pass. People spilling out onto the streets, into cars, busses, bicycles or on the sidewalks. People going to work, ditching school, buying things, stuck in traffic. Elsewhere, people starving, fighting wars or sleeping soundly. People living, loving, dying. 7 billion of them. Fates beyond counting. Joy and pain beyond measure.
9:00 PM, GMT -4.
Fifty individuals gather on the top of the Chanin building. Civil attire all, lest not to attract more attention than necessary, although many sport the sigil of their order proudly on their chest in occasion of the day. A star, in gold or silver and a black disk within it. From pockets, bags and sleeves they produce odd items and trinkets; Ash, bone, rusted scrap metal and other such. They quietly put them together, assemble something with clamps and nails. As long as it holds together. The end result crudely resembles a pyramid shape, looks like bad art, built just to shock or confound. Many of them nod, or smile, exchange a couple of hushed, meaningful words.
This time is not chosen arbitrarily. Perhaps significant in some other number and time systems, a hundred universes ago. Who could know. The Master, highest of their order is nervous, sweating. He knows that if he fails at his duty, it will be centuries before the ritual can be enacted, and the next universe to come will undoubtedly suffer for it. He gives the signal. Thirty of them plunge knives into their wrists. Some simple, crude, even a swiss knife and one for filleting meat. Others elaborate, no doubt made for this occasion. They plunge themselves upon the crude figure, cut themselves until they can barely move their arms, slather it in blood. The amount was arbitrarily chosen, rounded up. Cannot have too much. The security guard they killed on their way up is lastly poured onto the figure, drained, emptied. The Master recites the words he has trained for his entire life. Ancient, odd words, not meant for the human tongue. He rasps and coughs and finishes. A beat passes, a momentary silence.
7 billion people die.
Something like a bolt of lightning shoots out from the figure, strikes the sky. It turns red, clouds rapidly gather and swirl together in a spiral, dark at the center of it. It blots out the sun and the moon. Eighteen of them watch with delight or horror and die. Most humans barely manage to register the change before something easily rips the life out of them. A million stars are extinguished within the first few moments, simply gone. The world ends. Or close enough. Only a handful, ten or twenty maybe, falls asleep instead.The Voice
There’s an eerie darkness there, inside their heads. It feels like a dream, except it is completely featureless, no imagined landscapes or people, no nothing. Alone with ones own thought in complete black.
And then it speaks. Its voice is deep, every word trembles like a note on a bass. The sound seems to come from far away, but from no direction. The words differ, it knows each one of them well, how to push their buttons, but the message is the same: A gratulation, an explanation, an invitation.“Rejoice. You are one of the lucky few, one out of a billion. Chosen, by yourself, to live. My sincerest congratulations are in order. Let me explain: The cycle of your universe is nearing it’s end, as so many have before it. The world as you knew it is already gone. A ritual was triggered to bring about this end, so as to restart the cycle, a new universe born on the ashes of the old. You, held alive by the burning of your ravaged soul, can be the one to create it. I know you have a grand vision for it, one like no other!
Realize this: Reality was always subjective, malleable. It was only the will it’s creator and the lives within it that gave it form, consistency. These shackles have been lifted. Let your soul cry out and reality shall bend to your will. Once there is no matter, no energy left and no other living beings, your power will be absolute, you will be able to create the next universe. The first will take care of itself, all that is, is fading, becoming nothing. But the others, the rest of those that live, you will have to deal with yourself. Perhaps you can convince them that your vision is righteous and true, unite all in shared belief. Or break their passion and bend them to yours. Or kill them with the power you now possess. It is up to you. I anxiously await to see you clash and burn and birth a new world.”
As by a switch, consciousness snaps back on. The sight of thousands of bloodless corpses, bathed in red light is the first thing to meet their eyes.Dean & Carrie: Top of the Chanin building24 hours later
Dean felt sick. He had grabbed an office chair and dragged it out in front of a window. Looking straight ahead, never straying, everything looked almost normal. As long as one ignored red lighting applied to everything, and the instance of some windows spontaneously bursting, the shards floating into the sky some twenty minutes ago. Still better than looking to the side, where office workers lay strung out on the floor, looks of frozen terror on their faces. Still, the smell was enough to remind him of their existence. With regular intervals his stomach heaved, trying to throw up something that was not there. Dean did not look forward to eventually having to eat again, no matter how hungry he actually were.
Carrie’s voice buzzed over the walkie-talkie he had made.
“It’s time. Come up.”
She sounded calm and collected as usual, no different from before the calamity. It was beyond Dean to figure out how she managed it. He grabbed the walkie and began walking towards the stairs at the other end of the room, keeping his vision at the ceiling, only to almost trip over a body. Almost dragging himself up the staircase, he arrived on the roof to see Carrie standing on the edge, scouting out over the city. Looking so out-of-place normal; black skirt, dress shirt, a couple of wrinkles on her face and a concentrated expression. 31 bloody bodies, 18 clean littered around her and she just stood there. Of course, he was no different. Just some young dude with blonde hair, neat clothes and blood on his shoes. There was a wicked wind up there at least, keeping the air fresh and closer to odorless.
“Right. So what is the plan?” Dean said, mostly managing to keep his voice from shaking. He felt weak, physically too, the hunger not doing him any favors.
“We go into the city. If anybody wanted to come for us, they would have done so by now. So we go on the offensive.” she replied, matter of factly.
“Uh, right, makes sense... How do we find them, then?” Dean said, while his mind raced. The thoughts that he had spent hours to calm were starting up again. Hunting down the other survivors and killing them in cold blood. Could he even get himself to do that? “Big city, few people.”
“Like us, some of them should be wanting to be found, to meet. No one gains anything from hiding. We’ll send them a signal.” she said with no emotion, immediately following up by thrusting a hand towards the Chrysler building just across from them. The sky reacted, the swirling mass of clouds reaching down over it, something like the sound of thunder coming from it. Dean could but watch, mouth open. In moments, the cloud had covered the building, then retracted, leaving nothing in its wake, the building seemingly swallowed up.
“You... You think that will bring them to us?” Dean said, trying his best to sound unaffected. He knew he would rather run from something like that.
“If they’re running scared, finding them will be harder, but killing them will be easier. I suggest you arm yourself.” Carrie replied, again coldly, yet with a slight flinch at the mention of killing. It was unlikely she had ever killed anyone either, Dean figured, finally able to emphasize. She put up a tough front but there was no way she could be as calm about the situation as she seemed, right?
“Oh, yes, ‘ll get on it.” Dean pushed the distracting thought out of his head. At least this he could focus on, to the exclusion of all else. He set his arms out in front of him, a little space apart and closed his eyes. The FN P90 firearm was the first thing to pop into his mind, good as any. He had read about it in a magazine once, it ought to be possible. Envisioning it strongly, focusing on its image, turning it around in his head. Taking it apart, trying to guess at how it looked internally. No more than a guess had been necessary with the walkie. A brief flash in his inner eye, of people working in a factory, building and assembling every part and screw. It was something humans had made. Opening his eyes, he could see gears and metal working their way out of his arms, almost swimming through the skin and out in the air, assembling themselves in front of him. Whirring and clicks as it began to resemble the one in his mind. Last, he impatiently ripped the magazine out of his hand and caught the gun right as gravity kicked in. Looking up, he could see Carrie was watching him, their eyes meeting for a second.
“Good enough?” Dean asked, smiling. He could not deny this felt good, creating something and feeling its heft in his hands. “Take the elevator down?”
“No, we’ve wasted enough time.” Carrie replied and looked away, again with the hard-ass attitude. “I’ll get us down.”
“Uhm, okay.” He couldn’t quite figure out what she was planning, poised almost to jump as she were. She seemed to prepare something. He gave a last, sorrowful glance to the corpses around them. One of the unbloodied bodies on the floor, a young women. Isabella, one of his best friends in the Rebuilders. She had been just like him, in way over her head. You could see on her face that she had not wished for the end. Dean’s thoughts interrupted by the flash of something black from Carrie’s back. A moment later and he was standing on an completely empty lot, except from the figure they had used to destroy the world, still bathed in blood. Momentarily confused, Dean could not figure out what he had just been thinking about. He could swear there had just been a name in his mind but he could not recall it. Carrie was the only one he knew who had been at the ritual. He pushed it out, enough on his mind already. They both walked out from the lot and into the city, Carrie stopping for a moment to look back. The sign designating the huge, empty space as “Chanin building” was still there. She had to suppress a smile. A way for her to manage Dean had occurred to her.
Last edited by Vegedus
on Wed Apr 02, 2014 4:09 pm, edited 8 times in total.
Mon Jun 24, 2013 7:51 pm
Elaine walked down the center of the street, past no-longer-smoking wrecks of cars and eerily silent storefronts. The bodies strewn about gave her no pause. She didn't spare a thought to wonder who they'd been...what they'd loved and hated...What they'd lost...
They were dead already. They didn't matter.
What did were those who were left. Where they were, who they were....and how they would die, giving way to the world where Elaine's little girl was once again safe and alive. That was what mattered.
Killing wasn't something she wanted to do...the very thought made her more than a little queasy. But...if it came to it, she would...She might weep over it later, but when the time came, she'd do it. Because it was for her baby...
One foot in front of the other, she walked, a slow and steady pace, arms swinging at her sides as she counted her own breaths, her own heartbeats. Toward t he center of town, with no real goal other than to find the others.
Tue Jun 25, 2013 10:30 am
-End of the World: Jace-
For a while now Jace had been staring at the door to his apartment, his leg nervously shaking as he simply sat and waited. There was no real logical explanation for what just happened and Jace knew that he would never understand until he walked outside. The voice that he heard inside of his head was the thing that bothered him the most, just what was it going on about again? The end of the universe or something? Jace had not a single clue what the voice was telling him but from what he could manage to understand made him a bit worried. The man took one final deep breath and stood up from his couch, he wasn’t going to figure anything out just by sitting there.
Several moments passed and the man finally took a step forward and then stopped. Earlier the man had already taken a look outside of his window, things were so different than they were just a little while ago. There were people, so many people with their own hopes and dreams buzzing about the streets. Now outside there was nothing but death and blood. Jace had always valued solitude but would have never wanted it at this sort of price, whoever did this killed so many people and for what reason?
The voice in his head had said it earlier… there were still others out there and they all could shape the universe to their will. Whoever did this wanted it to happen and wanted to kill all of those people so that they could have their way. A frown formed onto Jace’s face, he hated people who would do such things to others. He couldn’t let them have their way, not after they did this.
Sat Jun 29, 2013 10:07 am
The world was deathly silent, no cries of birds, no barking dogs nor the sounds of children filled what remained of Central Park. Only a faded memory of once was, for it was nothing more than a barren patch of land now. Burnt remains that once were trees decorated the otherwise lifeless field... no that's incorrect, dozens of bodies lay strewn about though one could hardly refer to them as decorations now. Merely victims of the calamity.
Humans, animals, friends and pets. None would mourn them, none could, after all no one remembered who these bloody displays were. Some were unrecognizable, affected by the calamity in different ways. Who knew what there final moments were. Was it quick? Was it agonizing? Did they feel a sliver of fear in that split second when the end of the world arrived?
Noël didn't know, he merely sat on a damaged bench that seemed to have been miraculously spared the destruction around him. Before him lay the bodies of what seemed to have been a family, hand in hand, even in death. In all likelihood there were dozen- million other such occurrences throughout the world. Would anyone else be witnessing this tragedy. Or better yet. Did they care for such a sight?
Not a single sound was heard throughout the park. Not even the wind dared to break the silence of this cacophonous reality.
So many have died, so many before their time and yet the man on the bench could not feel sympathy for them. For all those who died, were they worth remembering? Is humanity worth remembering? If not them who is? After all it was determined by them that they were the ones that dominated the planet. But at the end of the world not even they were spared. It seemed that death was the great equalizer after all. And yet it seemed that there were some who lived.
Would they remember all of those who had fallen? Did it even matter to them? That out of roughly seven billion lives, only they survived. Would they feel that guilt? Would they feel that burden? To be the last remaining humans.
Noël knew that he felt nothing, no kinship to those had died, not even disgust, there was simply nothing there. It was mere fact. The world came at an end. It is simple fact. Men, women and children, politician or simple deliveryman. In the end they all died.
Before Noël lay three corpses surrounded by countless others, representing the idea of a family. Hand in hand they rested together. Noël sat on the bench contemplating the significance of this sight for the last two hours but found nothing to relate to.
Without a word he stood and for a moment he removed his hat to pay his respects to the countless remains of humanity around him. There were no words to say for there was nothing to express, no comforting words to surviving family members, no words of God about how they will ascend to the heavens for nothing is certain. Nothing but the facts that the world had ended and that humanity came to an end.
With that Noël walked away only his solemn footsteps broke the sound of a faint memory that once was a busy Central Park.
Sun Jun 30, 2013 3:03 pm
-Highway leading into New York-
Who knew what the woman had been doing at the time of the calamity? Maybe she was on her way home from work? Perhaps the next exit would take her to the daycare where her child was blissfully awaiting her return? No one would know now. Her corpse lay in the driver's seat, head tilted back, eyes wide in shock and pain. Suddenly a pitch black spike pierced her skull, continuing through the seat, the car, and finally lodging itself in the ground. For a few moments, the spike remained lodged through the woman and her car. Then, just as suddenly as it had struck, the dark spine retracted.
Drake continued down the highway, elevated by four dark protrusions from his back, Doctor Octopus-style. Clothed in simple jeans, sneakers, and a plain dark green shirt, his limbs and head hung limp as his spikes pierced asphalt, cars, and corpses as they carried him on. His eyes shone faintly with a violet light. Lately he had noticed that the greater extent that he used his powers, the more his eyes glowed. This didn't seem to have any effect on anything in particular. The limp figure raised a hand to its forehead and grimaced. Drake only vaguely recalled the time he spent wallowing in full blown insanity. The memories were a tempest of screams, tearing, and pain. Yet here he was, making his way towards New York City, his purpose holding his mind together. It was strange, he knew he was insane, but he didn’t feel much different. If anything, he felt more….free. As if all the inhibitions in his mind, morals, a conscience, were gone. That was probably because they were. All he knew now was that everyone must die, everyone and everything. The very universe would pay for what it did to him. The black “spider” walked on.
Sun Jun 30, 2013 4:56 pm
It is lonely. Surrounded by void, an emptiness indescribable, likely never experienced by any other living being. Nothing to focus on but its power and its hate. The hate is all it needs, all it needs to keep warm, to withstand the pressure. Lights flare up and are extinguished in the same moment. It is a long journey, but it knows it is close. It feels the presence, the most hated presence, that in its hubris took everything away from it. That, will also be extinguished.
-Dean & Carrie: Eastern Manhattan-
Dean had planted his ear to the black asphalt beneath him. He was not sure it was necessary, but it felt right. Closing his eyes felt right too, given the alternative of looking into the glassy eyes of a strawled out senior.
"Yessssssssss...? You, you walk..." the voice of the road was slow, low and heavy, yet strangely feminine. Dean did not know what to think about that. "Why... Is no one... Driiiiiving today?"
"That's... That's a long story," and one Dean did not feel like recounting. "There's not many walking today either, right? Could you point us in direction of someone else walking? Eh, please?"
"No one... Is ooooon me..." the voice from the asphalt continued, heaving as if lifting something heavy. "But. 47 street talked about... Fifth Avenue having found one..."
Strange images seemed to spontaneously appear in Dean's mind while it talked. Images of its builders, men and women armed with road rollers, concrete mixers and pneumatic hammers, hard at work. It was an old road, renovated many times, but fundamentally the same. Many, many people had worked on it, through time. In fact, he could feel, some had been working on it just further down the street, just yesterday...
"Please. Pllleaase tell me what has happened..." the road huffed, interrupting Dean's stream of thought. "Where are alllll... the people?"
"S-sorry, got to go." Dean exclaimed, opened his eyes and jumped to his feet. Carrie stood with a rather blank look on her face, looking at him.
"Fifth avenue, one."
She just nodded and began walking.
"I see it. Her." she said five minutes later, breaking the silence. Dean peeked around the corner. There was a bit of a distance between them, but she was very visible. On any other day, it would just have been some lady. Could have been anyone's mom.
"So, what... What do we do?" Dean asked, trying to make eye contact with Carrie. He had never been one to stammer before. "I could try to take the shot from here?"
Carrie looked down on his shaking hands, clutching the gun.
"No. We know nothing of what she can do and her disposition. For all we know she could return the bullet to your skull with a thought." she said calmly. "We - I - talk to her for now. Maybe she can be an ally. You stay here, hidden and keep a bead on her. She moves against me, shoot."
The real reason was none of that. The odds that she could be bargained with were slim, Carrie could only keep Dean under control because of his spinelessness. A bigger entourage would be unstable, a liability. She just needed her to move first, to teach Dean that the others were dangerous, get him to take the damn first shot.
Dean nodded, a look of determination on his face and leaned against the wall. Carrie started walking out onto the Avenue, something black poking out her back. She strode a good amount before stopping.
"Hey! Hey you there!" she called out, her voice quivering. "Oh god, so good to see someone else alive! My name is Carrie? Who are you?"
Sun Jun 30, 2013 5:19 pm
A shrill voice cut through the otherwise, nearly oppressive silent air. Larissa had no idea what was happening, one moment she was with her mother at the mall, buying a new backpack - the one just like all her friends were getting! - and the next, she found herself... Here.
Her voice was ragged, slowly giving out after having walked through this nightmare of a city for the last few hours. Whatever was happening simply didn't connect in her mind, she had been born and raised in the city, she'd never even experienced silence like this, or loneliness. Of course, she wasn't truly alone, everybody was still there, just... Dead.
Larissa sniffed and wiped her bloodshot eyes, her cheeks burning red. She just wanted to go home, to her mommy, away from all of this. Larissa was only 7 - 7 and a half! - wearing a simple pink jacket with a smiling teddybear printed on the left chest, together with some dark green pants. Her normally styled, curly hair was a wild mess and her clothes were dirty. She had woken up on the ground, in some part of the city she didn't recognize. She had read a street sign saying "Riverside Drive".
Sniffling, she continued her way through the dead city, trying her hardest not to look at the bodies strewn across the ground, when suddenly the very sky seemed to open up, its clouds slowly swallowing up one of the large structures. Larissa couldn't help but look at the spectacle with wide eyes, her mind torn between amazement and horror. It wasn't until the thundering sound of the thunder reached her that she yelped and covered her ears and closed her eyes.
And then the silence reigned once more, for what felt like an eternity. Yet she could hear voices, hundred of them, thousands. But not in the way you heard them on the streets, happy, angry, just talking. No, all of these voices were shouting out for the same thing, she just couldn't understand what. It was like she could hear them, yet at the same time not hear them.
Carefully, the girl uncovered her ears and looked up again. She gasped as the scene had magically changed, this wasnt the place where she had closed her eyes! Panicking, she quickly spun around, finding that while it was a different location, the setting was still the same... Eerie lighting and bodies strewn across the ground. But there was a very important change this time. She recognized where she was! This was Central Park!
The feeling of coming across a place that bore some form of recognition calmed the girl down a little. Her home was on the eastern side of Central Park! Wiping her tears away once more, she quickly ran towards the nearest entrance. She just needed to find a map which would say where she was, and from there she could walk home!
At least, that had been the plan. Larissa stopped the moment she set foot in the park. There was someone here. Someone not dead. It was a man, a tall, lanky looking man, wearing dark clothing and a mask. The sight perplexed the girl for a moment, having seen nothing but dead bodies for what seemed like days. He looked exactly like the type of person her mother would forbid her to speak to, but he was the first living person she'd seen since all of this happened!
"H-hello... M-mister?" She tried, noticing that her voice felt a lot better all of the sudden, while it had felt like sandpaper just a minute ago. She didn't quite approach him just yet, what if he was the cause of all of this? If he did something strange, she'd just run away. There were enough hiding spots around here to hide someone her size.
Sun Jun 30, 2013 5:50 pm
"I'm Elaine..." she called back, lifting her chin and continuing to walk forward, a sigh heaving her substantial bosom and her shoulders. "Are you hurt at all?"
Part of it was a genuine question...part of it was to gauge the woman's response...She could be friendly, or this could be a ruse...
Elaine kept closing the distance, but walked slowly, with measured steps. She wasn't a thin model by any means, so she tried to make it look like she was tired of lugging even her own body weight around, like she would have been before all this had happened. Now, though...She could turn the muscle fatigue off. Like a switch. If there wasn't a giant hole in her soul, she might have spared more than a little time thinking about how goddamned nifty that was.
She kept her hands spread, palm up in that defensive gesture that said 'Look, no weapons. I'm not dangerous. Not at all.' as she advanced, her dark brown gaze fixed on Carrie.
"If you are, I can help..." Look. I'm useful. You don't want to hurt me, because I'm useful...
She didn't want to jump the gun and assume that Carrie was out to get her...but that voice in her head. Well, she supposed she also didn't want to show her hand yet, either. What was it they said...something about the element of surprise?
Sun Jun 30, 2013 6:45 pm
"Hurt?" Carrie's mind immediately started racing. Was she a doctor, or did she just have a power that benefited for close contact? A healing power was a possibility as well, it had been relatively common in the Rebuilders. She had to keep up the innocence act, at least as far as Dean could tell, lure the stranger into attacking first, without being completely vulnerable. At tough act to follow. Could Carrie risk letting her close? She was out of time, hesitating too much would seem suspicious. Risks were unavoidable after all.
"Uh, yes, I am. I mean, it's just a scratch." she moused, trying to sound a bit pathetic. Something black snaked down her back, out of sight of Elaine, and cut into her lower leg, as deep as possible without impairing her ability to stand. "Do you know what's going on? I, I just woke and everything was like this!"
Meanwhile, Dean had hopped in an open window, tread over a body and perched himself behind a window with blinds. His pulse would not seem to stop racing as he pointed the gun awkwardly at the window and out towards Elaine, a finger on the trigger.
Risks (Carrie): +1 A decent fleshwarping (-1 next conflict), +1 Traitorous thoughts planted in Dean, +1 All her lies seen through
Suggested Risks (Elaine): +1 Attacks first, +1 Minor bulletwound (-1 next conflict)
Wed Jul 03, 2013 5:47 pm
The sound of a frightened child alerted Noël to the fact that he was not the only survivor of within the area, considering the circumstances and statistics it was probable that sooner or later he would've come across someone that was still amongst the living. Noël had hoped it was going to be later. Much later.
Without breaking his steady pace Noël spoke in a flat tone, "What is it child? If you are seeking the knowledge of what has happened I cannot truly answer truthfully, all I know is that it seems that the world has come to cycle's end. As to why? I know not, that is why I seek others who may yet know the what has transpired.
If you're following questions are do not concern any of the points made, I request you not put effort into asking them. I am not as interested in them as you'd expect. However should you feel the need, you are welcome to follow, be it at a distance or within arms reach. I care not for which. Though I suspect you will try regardless of my advice."
He seemed not to take a single breath in between his sentences nor did it seem that he had to quicken through his speech. It was controlled. Each word spoken gave a sense of polite disinterest. Noël tilled his head slightly to the sky, traces of humanity's dying embers traced faintly across it's once clear skies. Was it clear? Had the sky been blue before this calamity? A piece was missing, a fragment that bothered him much more than it should.
"No matter, it is of little importance for now." He thought to himself as he moved on with his agenda.
Sat Jul 06, 2013 5:10 pm
Larissa sniffled and wiped her eyes and running nose. The stranger spoke in a weird way, kine like how the older teachers at her school did, with long sentences that were difficult to understand. And the way he looked definitely didnt inspire any trust in the young girl either, but what was she to do? He was the first living being she'd seen since waking up in this nightmare, and maybe he knew how to wake up from it?
She carefully closed the distance to him, keeping some just in case he did turn out to be bad. "Euhm... S-sir?" She meekly asked, thankfully having been raised by decent parents who taught her some manners, not something you saw every day in new York. Of course... You'd probably never see that again. "Euhm... Who... Who are you?" The man hardly seemed fazed by all the death or other strange happenings around them. Did he truly not know what was going on? Or was he just lying to her about all of this? Was he the one behind everything? Was he one of those ter-or-rists she'd heard about on the TV?
Sat Jul 06, 2013 5:51 pm
Drake's spider-legged quest carried him into the city, as one thing consumed his thoughts. Find someone, get things started. The purpose instilled in him, the ropes holding him together, bade him to do so. And so it came that he DID find others, people like him who had survived. He had brought himself down to street level, relying on his own two feet. If he did encounter someone, he did not want to reveal his hand immediately. Not that anyone would be able to tell the full extent of his powers just by seeing the "spider" legs, but still. As he made his way into the depths of the city, he delved further into his facade of sanity. His posture straightened, his eyes stopped glowing, and his face took on a neutral look. As much as his madness screamed at him to simply rip any and everything to pieces, he suppressed it. He could not fulfill his purpose if he was killed due to poor scouting. No, deceit and surprise would be his best weapon here, and if it came down to it he felt as if nothing could stop him. He would not. be. stopped. In the stillness of the city, Drake's head twitched to the side. Was he hearing....voices? A grin broke out on his handsome face as he slipped inside a nearby door and made his way towards the opposite side of the building.
Various items were scattered around on the floor, even shards of glass from a myriad of broken items. Drake couldn't well sneak about like this. A multitude of dark tendrils seeped out from under his feet, propping him up slightly. As he walked, these tendrils fluidly skirted anything that would make noise when pressure was applied to it, making his advancement all but silent. As Drake rounded a corner, he came across a figure, crouched in the shadows of a window. He appeared to be carrying a gun of sorts, and was peaking out of the blinds at something. Drake retracted the tendrils that were carrying him, with a slight grimace at the unnerving sensation. It would be all to easy to simply impale this fool, but Drake did not know what he was capable of. Instead he would take a risk. Stepping forward, Drake said aloud "Now now, spying is a bit rude, don't you think?" To the man crouched by the window. He kept his arms wide, and tried to look as friendly as possible.
Risks: Dean shooting him out of surprise +1
(Hope I did that right)
Mon Jul 08, 2013 7:14 pm
"Ah, well, I kind of gather that the world's gone to hell in the proverbial handbasket," she said, continuing her slow pace and dropping her hands, as though she'd decided that the other woman wasn't a threat. "Here, let me check you out, and maybe we can figure out together what the hell's going on..."
The woman could be biding her time, faking her out...waiting for the right moment to attack. But if she acted as though she were suspicious, Elaine would be giving away one of her better advantages, not to mention acting counter to her own personal tendencies. She wanted to believe this chick hadn't heard the voice...that maybe the voice wasn't even real...but then, the chance to bring her little girl back wouldn't be real, either, and that--well, that was a possibility that Elaine couldn't bring herself to ponder. It had to be real...because she had to win. Life was without meaning without those sweet hazel eyes and that cheeky smile, untarnished by any cares, grinning up at her with all the trust and faith that only a child--her child--could have in her.
Her eyes were perhaps a little wetter, a little glossier, than they had been a moment before, and she forced a smile to Carrie, although it didn't reach her eyes...She did manage not to let any tears escape, though.
"Where are you hurt?"
Risks: +1 minor bullet wound; +6 death
Wed Jul 10, 2013 5:35 pm
Jack, stretched, giving a yawn. His clock read....nothing. Oh right. The memories of the past few days flashed through his head, and made the man aware. Some woolen heavy curtains were drawn against a central large window within his room, the glints of red at the edges only served as a reminder...
Jack rolled out of bed, and reached down to pick out a pair of discarded jeans, slipping them on and fastening the belt. He then walked over to the dresser, and proceded to slip out a single cigarette out of the pack on the large wooden thing. There was natural light, briefly, within the room as a lighter was struck, and then the subtle tones of tobacco and tar filled the room. The curtains were suddenly thrust appart, letting into the room the dark red lights, belonging to that of the new sun, and the new world, bathed in this devilish light. The new world. Or some shit like that.
Jack sighed, his window giving him a good look onto the stree below, full of many stopped cars, and many dead corpses laying next to those cars. The mans more dire concern was that the entire neiborhood was going to smell of rotting flesh soon. Thankfully...the birds seemed to have been unaffected by this "apacolypse" many of which could be seen scattering the skies...no doubt picking apart the many dead bodies. Jack pulled up a chair, at the window, calmly taking a few drags on the cigarette. He had a good view of most of the largest buildings within the city. He used to cherish this view, back before the accident, and think himself lucky for getting such a good apartment, with such a nice view. Of course he was a few stories up...and would not have to be RECQUIRED to take the stairs down, but that was the present. In the past, the tall skyscrapers would of been lit up, with the night as a backdrop. Now it was all awash in a dead red light. He frowned. How rude of the apocolypse to ruin his favorite view. But non the less...he guessed he'd just grow used to this new view, and perhaps figure out a way to survive in this dead new world. Afterall, everyone else was dead, but he wasn't. And Jack, had to smirk...and thank whatever god or stroke of fate had afforded him with his new "ability"....he looked up, at the cities tallest building. The Chanin building. staring at it for a few moments. A slight warmth begin to develop in his temples, followed by a dull throbbing pain, Jack could hear his heart pumping within his veines...as he stared up at the tall building, imaging up one word.
Nothing would happen....yet...
Fri Jul 12, 2013 3:46 pm
"Who am I?" Noël said slowly as he continued walking, "That for now is a riddle without an answer. I cannot remember who I was before this-" He made a gesture towards the world around him, "-all happened. I only remember waking up like this."
There was a moments pause, only the sound of their feet hitting pavement, "But if you wish you can refer to me by my self-given name; Noël Edge. What about you? What is your name."
The man turned his head slightly as he spoke, looking at the little girl, give or take given the mask, before he once more shifted his attention forward to the shattered remains of New York. Everything was coming undone, humanity, the buildings, the sky even himself.
Unless he was merely a by-product of this calamity. If that was true why did he need answers? Was his mind similar to a child that was eager to learn? Or were there pieces missing that compelled him to do so. Noël groaned, too many unknowns, too many questions, too few answers, he had to focus.
Fri Jul 12, 2013 5:57 pm
Carrie kneeled, showing off the back-side of her leg, now bleeding. While the sight of her own blood stirred little within her, it occurred to her immediately that she had overdone it. It was obvious this was a completely new wound and it could easily slow her down. Meanwhile, the other women was now so close, damnable close, a few meters or so. It occurred to her that the other women might very well not be a healer but someone able to manipulate blood. They had had some of those in the order as well. Someone like that had a massive advantage against a bleeding opponent. Carrie could for all she know just had signed her death warrant. She could feel her pulse rising along with her paranoia. Growing up, she had received harsh training with her own life at stake, but now it was something more, the entire, next universe. Under no circumstance could she afford to fuck up, and she might already have done so. She just sat there, breathlessly, wordlessly watching Elaine walk closer, contemplating whether to let her touch her when-
Something flew by behind Elaine, close enough that she could feel the air displace against her neck. Carrie could hear Dean swearing from inside a building and as if on cue, rose up on her feet against. Something black, something stark extended from her back. Six blades, six flat-shapes of perfectly no color, extended in every direction, then thrust forward towards Elaine... And missed. Only one cut ever so slightly into her shoulder. Elaine was already to close, too awkward to hit her here with the wings.
Inside, Dean half-rolled and scrambled away from the window and poised himself with his back against the the wall. One foot was resting on someone's face, but he had more immediate problems. Moments earlier, he had been so focused watching the two women's exchange that he had not seen the Drake arrive and accidentally pulled the trigger in shock.
"You idiot! You fucking scared me! See what you made me do?!" Dean half-screamed in an odd mix of rage and guilt. The gun was pointed directly at the stranger, his stance guarded. It was out of character for Dean to be so hostile, but both he and Carrie was now in immediate danger and the panic had shook him up. "Who the fuck are you?!"
Risks (Dean): +1 Bleeding wound, +1 have Carrie tighten the leash on him, +2 pierced leg bone (permanent)
Mon Jul 15, 2013 11:23 am
Drake didn't even blink when the crouching man fired his weapon off out of surprise. He probably should have expected it. Drake just let out a short laugh as Dean panicked and scrambled back from him. He enjoyed his fear. He enjoyed a lot. He wanted to see more fear....No! Not yet...not yet. Maybe soon. Sooner is better...Drake forcibly silenced his broken mind and focused on Dean. Suddenly he felt something. Something activated, a large shift in the fabric of reality. Had it happened outside? He couldn't see out of the blinds. Drake wanted to know, but he had to deal with Dean. Still not moving, he met Dean's frantic eyes. "Ahaha, sorry man, didn't mean to scare you. What exactly did I make you do? Is something going on outside? My name is Drake Abelson by the way." He said with a smile, and a glance at the window. All of a sudden he REALLY wanted to go out there, but he had no idea why.
Risks (Drake): +2 Riddled with bullets (Brain/heart missed)
Suggested Risk (Dean):+1 Flung out window by tentacle. +1 Minor glass cuts (-1 next combat)
Mon Jul 15, 2013 5:23 pm
"You made me fuck up." Dean said in a low voice. He glanced away for second, before again meeting Drake's gaze, fire in his eyes. He had little time. Whatever was going on outside, he should assist Carrie as fast as possible. "I'm Dean, and you got 20 seconds to explain what universe you want to make and convince me not to shoot you right where you stand. Go."
Tue Jul 16, 2013 12:34 pm
As Dean spoke, Drake's friendly smile gradually turned darker, until it was downright creepy. Dean's fiery eyes would be met with violet ones that had suddenly seemed to be deep and soulless. The itch resurfaced in his mind. He wanted to know what was going on outside, and this jumpy little man was being very...rude. The itching grew more irritating, until Drake could no longer suppress it.
"You...didn't really answer my question. I envision a world were people are more polite, but aside from that..." Drake's violet eyes suddenly began to glow, faintly, almost imperceptibly, and his voice became menacing. "I don't think you are in a position to be making demands, really."
Suddenly from Drake's right shin, a black tentacle erupted forth and quickly snaked across the ground towards Dean. The tentacle was fast, but Dean would be able to see it coming. But not enough to react in time. The black tendril wrapped itself around Dean's leg and yanked upwards, effectively inverting the surprised man and causing him to whack his head on the floor, a painful but short lasting experience, and one that caused him to drop his gun. Not wanting to give Dean time to react, the tentacle whipped him towards the window he had been crouching by moments before. The glass easily gave way to the impact of Dean's hurtling body and he passed through onto the other side, but not without a few minor cuts from the glass.
Drake smiled as the tentacle retracted and the wound it left on his leg healed over. If anyone had been around to see, they would have noticed that there was no blood, and the wound only showed a slightly swirling darkness beneath the skin. Drake then followed his victim out of the window, and quickly took in the situation outside. If the sight of Carrie's Wings of Erasure startled Drake, it didn't show on his face. It looked like she was attacking a defenseless woman with those things. Drake needed to try and keep up his facade, even if he had just flung a guy out a window.
"Please don't threaten me in the future, Dean." He said to the man lying on the ground. "As for you two, are you attacking this poor woman?" Drake asked Carrie. "Because she doesn't look like she is fighting back...and that wouldn't be very...nice." Drake's voice dropped back into its menacing tone.
Fri Jul 19, 2013 10:26 am
Ricky relaxes on a lawn chair, on top of a building. Looking into the some what comforting, apocalyptic skies. He remembers waking yesterday to the the 'cherry on top' of his month of horrible luck. Yesterday, all he could think about was his family. His kids at some after school program, dead with the other children. His ex, pretty, laying in bed with one of his friends. Even after the apocalypse starts, God could still pull another joke on him.
He moves past those thoughts and starts contemplating the morality of necrophilia. Seeing as he could change the next Universe to make it accepting, he doesn't believe he's actually done anything wrong.
He hears a gunshot. He jumps up and walks over to the edge of the building. Quite the scene, 4 people, and they don't seem to friendly with each other.
"Well. Coincidental ain't it God? I choose to relax the apocalypse off, but you bring 4! of the other contestants to me. What kind of pranks did you pull on them? Hope you didn't take their families too. I hate comedians that recycle jokes."
Tue Jul 30, 2013 6:27 pm
Ricky, Carrie, Dean, Drake, Elaine. Five souls now entangled, destined for conflict. The rest, at this moment, felt a dark presence. A lightness of head, as if about to pass out. Then the voice spoke again, now with a zealots vigor.
"It starts, it starts! The other survivors, they are there, fifth avenue! Close, so close! They are fighting, embroiled, distracted, vulnerable! Your chance is now! Go go!"
Despite the attack, Elaine seemed to hesitate a moment. Or perhaps she was just too surprised. Carrie was not. She followed up immediately, stretched an open palm towards Elaine and blanked her mind. Nothing. A world of peace.
Half the street imploded. A meter in front of her hand, everything seemed to bend in on itself and then disappear. The pavement, the street lights and the facade of most of the buildings just gone. A mighty gust followed, the air rushing to fill the hole made in it, powerful enough that one had to dig in their soles to keep standing. Carrie simply did so, her arm still outstretched. Elaine was gone from sight, but she had a nagging feeling she had not succeeded in killing her. But it was good enough for now. In the confusion, she had heard another voice, but not the words. She turned to face the new-comer, six blades of perfect black protruding from her now fully visible and outstretched. Dean was sprawled out on the ground, still busy whimpering.
She heaved for breath, exhausted. Carrie was not sure she could do that again, yet she put up a tough front. "What... Do YOU want?!"
Last edited by Vegedus
on Thu Aug 01, 2013 5:29 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Thu Aug 01, 2013 3:57 pm
Drake smile twitched slightly as the woman he was facing seemed to blow the other, defenseless woman into oblivion. Her and almost everything around the poor lady that is. As the scenery across from him melted away, Drake felt something in the depths of his soul. Something he had not felt since the incident that ruined his world. Something that was different from the psychosis and hate that had enveloped him since. A small pinprick...of fear. This woman was mighty indeed, and another minuscule emotion surfaced alongside the fear. Doubt began to poke at him. Was he powerful enough to face her? Had he seen the extent of her abilities? The molecules of fear and doubt began to dance around in his head, mocking him with how they made him feel. Then they brushed against something that was not so small, and that emotion....flared. Drake felt his rage suddenly erupt, chasing off the fear and doubt. How dare this woman make him feel that way? What gave her the right to...
Drake's eyes widened and his smirk transformed into a maniacal grin. The surface of his skin, the visible parts on his arms began to subtly writhe, as if whatever was underneath wanted to get out. "How dare you." He muttered to himself, his face maintaining its unnerving smile. Carrie wouldn't be able to hear him, but he didn't necessarily care. "How could you sorudeItoldyounottodothatwhydoyouhavetherightto make me feel!" The muttering became more frantic and disturbed. "IthoughtitwasclearIwantedyoutoleaveheralonenowyou'veforcedmeto WHAT DO I WANT?!?!" The insane young man suddenly yelled, his face taking on the murderous rage that he felt inside. "I WANT YOU TO DIIIIIIEEE!!!" The yell became a scream as suddenly from various points on Drake's body black tentacles burst forth, some sporting bladed tips while others had a more club like ending. These tentacles began to race towards Carrie, their intent rather clear.
Risks for Drake: Minor mental break down +2, "Erased" limb +3
Suggested risks for Carrie: Serious injury/loss of limb +3, Crushed bone +2
Thu Aug 01, 2013 4:21 pm
During Drake's mini meltdown.
"A girl, who can blow things into oblivion, that's a good one. A...thing? is it. A thing with tentacles- You know, the whole evil black tentacle essence thing is very cliche, and you used it twice. You would think after so many millenniums, you'd have more material. I like the boy with the gun though, keeping it simple. I hope he's the underdog, they're always the emotional ones." Ricky observes and directs to 'god'.
His twisted smile got even wider as he watched Drake's advance.
Last edited by Tenshi Nova
on Thu Aug 01, 2013 5:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Thu Aug 01, 2013 5:02 pm
Drake's short introspective, breakdown moment was enough for Carrie to compose herself. Steel her will. When the attack came, the dark prehensiles shooting towards her, she was ready. Nimbly jumping backwards, dodging and weaving around the tentacles, her combat training obvious. And now she was warmed up. The assailant had a range advantage however, and the self-inflicted wound was slowing her down, so she was forced to go on the offensive. Suddenly changing direction, she charged forward, enduring a few blows while doing so, all six wings raising upwards in parallel behind her, about to come down in a fell swoop as she closed in on Drake.
Just a few meters away from the battle, Dean was lying on the ground. Blood was coming out of his forehead, running his eyes. Not yet ready to stand, he instead looked intently at the ground beneath him and whispered a few words...
Risks for Carrie: Serious injury/loss of limb +3, Crushed bone +2, Blood loss and dizziness +1 (-1 next)
Fri Aug 02, 2013 11:22 am
Drake maintained his terrifying facial expression as Carrie managed to dart around his tentacles. This one was fast, but she would die all the same. Drake followed Carrie with his eyes, but remained motionless himself as she began to close the distance between them. It was all to apparent that close quarters was her domain. However, it also happened to be Drake's. Regardless of who was better suited for the situation, the fact that Carrie was dodging and even enduring strikes from him was beginning to annoy Drake. Raising and extending his left arm, with his palm pointed towards the encroaching woman, Drake simply uttered. "Stop."
A black spike shot forth from his palm. Right before this, however, Drake had two of his tentacles lash at Carrie. They served as distractions, he never meant for them to actually connect. Carrie deftly avoided their strikes, but the real threat was noticed too late. The black spike slid into her abdomen with a sickening noise. Drake's frown maintained. He had missed. Nothing vital was pierced. Oh well, the wound would be incredibly painful and when the spike inevitably came out, she would bleed all over the place. Then it would be a simple matter of finishing her off. At this point, Drake had stopped paying attention to the black wings protruding from Carrie's back...
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