Characters: Everyone - if you were in the false Chicago, this affects you. Time: Night Location: Demonreach and all around the city Content: It all ends here. Warnings: None Format: Poster's choice
The night sky would have been glorious, Alice thought, if the dark clouds that covered the luminous stars didn't so plainly foretell that this night might very well be her last
( ... )
There was only thing Blondie ever regretted, and it had been pure selfishness that had led her down that path in the first place. Fear. Anger. She was supposed to be the strong one, the flirt, the one with a snide joke even in the most dangerous situations. But in the end, it had been less about comradeship than saving her own neck - she had betrayed the other girls, telling the orderly everything about Babydoll and Sweet Pea and Rocket... they had fought against the soldiers and the orcs, but she was afraid of Blue and then he had the gun and poor Rocket, sacrificing herself on the train to save her sister...She was the traitor
( ... )
Blondie scowled, grip tightening on her gun and when she opened her eyes, she was in a dream of her own. Instead of the trigger of the submachine gun, she felt the sturdy, warm wood of her ax beneath her fingers. Ahead of her, a raging black shadow seemed to eclipse the world made of gray sand and brown, sluggish ocean. The sky burned white hot, but Blondie didn’t see anything beyond this twisted beast in front of her, its claws burrowing into the sand as it dragged itself from out of the waters. Over its gaping jaw that would have easily swallowed Blondie whole were a pair of inhuman green eyes, eyes that were too ancient and too murderous to belong to anything that remotely had a conscience.
It may have said something that Blondie didn’t think she was looking at a mirror-image of herself
( ... )
The wind was rough and unpleasant. A storm was brewing, or perhaps it was already here. Whatever the case the omens were not good. He didn't think he was one to really understand omens, that wasn't his specialty, yet here he was trying to read the signs in the sky or the wind. The gods had been silent, perhaps they were waiting to see what Jason would do, after all the gods typically WERE silent. Although it was hard to believe they would stay out of a battle like this when the world and civilization as they knew it was at stake
( ... )
Thomas and Justine, with Cheryle's blessinggodofcologneOctober 21 2011, 22:40:03 UTC
Magic seemed to electrify the very air above Demonreach, flashes of lightning bursting in blinding, unnatural colours as Merlin and Morgana exchanged blows. Faced with such displays of brazen power, Thomas couldn't help but feel utterly insignificant, a wave of hopeless despair washing over him. Did it matter if he stood here now, cavalry saber dripping blood and ichor? What could he, Thomas Raith, bastard son and vampire with an inconstant conscience, do when the battle was to be decided so far above them
( ... )
The proposal broke straight through any concentration Justine might have had. Here he was, knight in shining armor, stepping in to keep her from being hurt when he was probably about to drop. And then, like something straight out of a fairy tale, the proposal...
It took her some time to respond. Between dodging creatures and taking clear shots when she had them, Justine thought. She thought about what her life had been like before Thomas, what it was like now. She thought about the stability he brought her, even in the midst of monsters and battle, and about the stability she could give him in turn. She thought about what her life would be like for either of them if the other was to fall tonight, in this hour.
There wasn’t much to debate. If he called, she knew she would follow, no matter what. Maybe it was the kindling of love, or maybe something else entirely, but Justine knew, right in that moment, that she honestly could not live without Thomas. It was as simple and plain as that
( ... )
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Blondie scowled, grip tightening on her gun and when she opened her eyes, she was in a dream of her own. Instead of the trigger of the submachine gun, she felt the sturdy, warm wood of her ax beneath her fingers. Ahead of her, a raging black shadow seemed to eclipse the world made of gray sand and brown, sluggish ocean. The sky burned white hot, but Blondie didn’t see anything beyond this twisted beast in front of her, its claws burrowing into the sand as it dragged itself from out of the waters. Over its gaping jaw that would have easily swallowed Blondie whole were a pair of inhuman green eyes, eyes that were too ancient and too murderous to belong to anything that remotely had a conscience.
It may have said something that Blondie didn’t think she was looking at a mirror-image of herself ( ... )
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It took her some time to respond. Between dodging creatures and taking clear shots when she had them, Justine thought. She thought about what her life had been like before Thomas, what it was like now. She thought about the stability he brought her, even in the midst of monsters and battle, and about the stability she could give him in turn. She thought about what her life would be like for either of them if the other was to fall tonight, in this hour.
There wasn’t much to debate. If he called, she knew she would follow, no matter what. Maybe it was the kindling of love, or maybe something else entirely, but Justine knew, right in that moment, that she honestly could not live without Thomas. It was as simple and plain as that ( ... )
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