Rod's Saving Grace
Who: Rod (rookiemyass) and Tifa (slapping_queen), Marlene (miniflowergirl) and Denzel (shinra_orphan) if they care to join!
When: The night of January 13th
Location: Tifa's Seventh Heaven
Rating: PG-13 for Rod's foul mouth.
Summary:
He’d been walking. For fucking. Years.
…well okay, so maybe it just seemed like years, but still, it had been a really, really, really long time. Ever since he’d woken up in a pile of rubble, Rod had been wandering aimlessly around the ruined Midgar, searching for any signs of life. So far, he’d seen a nicely destroyed ShinRa building, an empty and very much mother-free apartment complex, over nine thousand miles worth of warped metal support structure, and some rats. Every time he thought he saw a light or heard footsteps, it turned out to either be a mirage (could mirages even happen at night, in a city?) or some form of creature he’d rather not meet in a dark alley. Except it was dark. And he’d been through several alleys. And it was starting to drive him a little crazy. At this point, he was about ready to find some nice, comfy piles of crumbled cement, lay down, and hope he didn’t have the misfortune of waking up again. His feet hurt. His back ached. His head was throbbing. And he still hadn’t found a god damned bar.
Fuck this apocalypse stuff. For serious.
He’d lost track of the sky. When he’d woken up, it had taken him quite a while to remember anything. He knew his name now, and where he worked. He couldn’t remember exactly what he did, but what with the current state of the ShinRa building, he had decided it didn’t much matter anyway. He sometimes recognized where he was, but this wasn’t the Midgar he remembered. It was like a shadow of the Midgar he knew; some sort of twisted, nightmare Midgar that existed only in some sort of fucked up alternate universe that he’d apparently been unlucky enough to slipping into. He’d mused about all sorts of explanations. The apocalypse was his favorite, but he was also particularly fond of the idea that perhaps he’d somehow been transported into a video game or end-of-the-world movie, and he was now the main protagonist, one of the few sane beings left on the planet, with the grand destiny of having to fight through all sorts of mortal peril to save humanity as he knew it.
…except he really hadn’t seen any signs of humanity so far, and he was honestly starting to get a little worried. Okay, scratch that. He was a lot worried.
It was around then that Rod realized the light he’d been moving towards - yet another sign of hope he’d written off immediately as another figment of his imagination - was in fact not disappearing as all the others had. In actuality, as he moved towards it, the light was only growing bigger and warmer, and he found himself speeding up his steps until he was practically jogging towards the light.
Heh. How poetic. Running towards the light. Maybe he was dead, and this was just some crazy purgatory he’d slipped into.
That thought made him shudder. Since he’d woken, any time his mind drifted towards thoughts of death or dying, he’d felt a chill run down his spine and his stomach lurch as if he might be ill. He’d also been having sharp pains in his abdomen, always in the same spot, just under his solar plexus. But only when he thought about dying. So…he didn’t.
He rounded a particularly large pile of debris, and was greeted with the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen: a brightly lit and very much open bar. "Tifa's Seventh Heaven," the welcoming sign proclaimed. It was practically glowing as warm yellow light flowed out of the windows to bathe him in such a feeling of relief he thought he might cry. Light meant people, and people meant he wasn’t the only one left on Gaia. …unless they were mutant, rat people who were planning to eat him the moment he stepped through the door.
Rod figured he’d take his chances. His hopes for a hard drink far outweighed his fear of mutant rat people. Mutant rat people he could handle...probably. And so he found himself climbing the stairs, pushing open the door, and stumbling into the blinding light of what he hoped would indeed prove to be his own preferred form of Heaven.
When: The night of January 13th
Location: Tifa's Seventh Heaven
Rating: PG-13 for Rod's foul mouth.
Summary:
He’d been walking. For fucking. Years.
…well okay, so maybe it just seemed like years, but still, it had been a really, really, really long time. Ever since he’d woken up in a pile of rubble, Rod had been wandering aimlessly around the ruined Midgar, searching for any signs of life. So far, he’d seen a nicely destroyed ShinRa building, an empty and very much mother-free apartment complex, over nine thousand miles worth of warped metal support structure, and some rats. Every time he thought he saw a light or heard footsteps, it turned out to either be a mirage (could mirages even happen at night, in a city?) or some form of creature he’d rather not meet in a dark alley. Except it was dark. And he’d been through several alleys. And it was starting to drive him a little crazy. At this point, he was about ready to find some nice, comfy piles of crumbled cement, lay down, and hope he didn’t have the misfortune of waking up again. His feet hurt. His back ached. His head was throbbing. And he still hadn’t found a god damned bar.
Fuck this apocalypse stuff. For serious.
He’d lost track of the sky. When he’d woken up, it had taken him quite a while to remember anything. He knew his name now, and where he worked. He couldn’t remember exactly what he did, but what with the current state of the ShinRa building, he had decided it didn’t much matter anyway. He sometimes recognized where he was, but this wasn’t the Midgar he remembered. It was like a shadow of the Midgar he knew; some sort of twisted, nightmare Midgar that existed only in some sort of fucked up alternate universe that he’d apparently been unlucky enough to slipping into. He’d mused about all sorts of explanations. The apocalypse was his favorite, but he was also particularly fond of the idea that perhaps he’d somehow been transported into a video game or end-of-the-world movie, and he was now the main protagonist, one of the few sane beings left on the planet, with the grand destiny of having to fight through all sorts of mortal peril to save humanity as he knew it.
…except he really hadn’t seen any signs of humanity so far, and he was honestly starting to get a little worried. Okay, scratch that. He was a lot worried.
It was around then that Rod realized the light he’d been moving towards - yet another sign of hope he’d written off immediately as another figment of his imagination - was in fact not disappearing as all the others had. In actuality, as he moved towards it, the light was only growing bigger and warmer, and he found himself speeding up his steps until he was practically jogging towards the light.
Heh. How poetic. Running towards the light. Maybe he was dead, and this was just some crazy purgatory he’d slipped into.
That thought made him shudder. Since he’d woken, any time his mind drifted towards thoughts of death or dying, he’d felt a chill run down his spine and his stomach lurch as if he might be ill. He’d also been having sharp pains in his abdomen, always in the same spot, just under his solar plexus. But only when he thought about dying. So…he didn’t.
He rounded a particularly large pile of debris, and was greeted with the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen: a brightly lit and very much open bar. "Tifa's Seventh Heaven," the welcoming sign proclaimed. It was practically glowing as warm yellow light flowed out of the windows to bathe him in such a feeling of relief he thought he might cry. Light meant people, and people meant he wasn’t the only one left on Gaia. …unless they were mutant, rat people who were planning to eat him the moment he stepped through the door.
Rod figured he’d take his chances. His hopes for a hard drink far outweighed his fear of mutant rat people. Mutant rat people he could handle...probably. And so he found himself climbing the stairs, pushing open the door, and stumbling into the blinding light of what he hoped would indeed prove to be his own preferred form of Heaven.