Sasha ate his soup as he spoke to the Commander. The man seemed very sensible and put together; Sasha could easily respect him. He tried to pace himself as he ate, as to not make himself sick again. He was only just now starting to get over the illness that had struck him about a week ago.
Once the commander left, Sasha finished up his bowl of soup and set it aside. He turned his legs around to hang them over the side of the bed, still generously covered by the blanket.
"If you don't mind," He said to the girl, "I'd like to get dressed." His voice had a certain solemn sound to it now. After everything he'd been through, Sasha had yet to be given the proper time to grief the loss of his friends and the people he had come to think of as family. He had only just now been given the opportunity to rest and begin to heal, let alone take a moment to let it all sink in. Everyone he knew was either dad or lost out in the broken world. Those who had died were given a horrible death, with no reason or closure.
Day 2 10:30amThru Day 5 8am Harley nodded "Sure, no problem," she handed him his pants and the shirt. "I hope the shirt will fit." Harley went to her things on the drawers and put it all back in her pockets.
"You should be relatively safe now. I'm Harley Grey and I'm in room 122 if you need me. There are signs that will help you get around." She grabbed the wheelchair and opened the door. "Oh," She turned around and handed him the key to his room. "Don't lose this."
Harley was sweating and looking very pale. "I think I'm going to go lay down for a while." Harley pushed the chair back to the cafeteria and when she got into her own room she fell into the bed and slept for most of the day. When she woke up she went into the showers and stood under the water again. She hadn't eaten anything so she couldn't throw up but it felt like her stomach was willing to try to eat it's way through her backbone. She guzzled a bottle of water knowing it would come back up but at least it would bring some of the acid with it.
Afterwards, her coughing lessened a little bit, she felt better and she kept herself busy in the cafeteria trying to keep helping others. Harley was having an especially hard time with this little boy. He was in the bunker with his grandparents. Both of his grandparents had died earlier in the day. She knew them and had moved them both herself. His parents were on the outside when the asteroid had struck. She was rocking him back and forth trying to make him fight to live and she couldn't stop the tears.
"Johnny, come on you can do this. Sing with me." When the 6 year old closed his eyes and stopped breathing she didn't know what to do. Feeling sick, shaky and tired she was emotionally worn out she took him and put him in the commander's arms. Harley ran out of the cafeteria.
Over the next few days she and so many others were violently ill. It wasn't until the fifth day that she started to feel better. She had been spending her time between the showers and the bed sleeping. Eating was sometimes more difficult but she drank water like crazy it seemed. She swore she was becoming a fish.
The morning of Day 5 she went to the showers and washed her hair really good and put on clean clothes and just all around felt good for the first time since they had opened the doors. She had energy, no fever and she was still sad but physically she was better. She hadn't really seen much of Sasha or the others that she knew. She knew that they were not opening the doors til later in the day and they were going to make sure that most were ready to fight if need be.
You should start posting getting a surprise where your powers start to show themselves. The enemies are on their way too don't forget to look for them if you go outside of the doors.
Jason had been in his room for the past few days, sick. Terribly sick. Vomiting, wheezing, and even sneezing. He left occasionally, sure, but not too often. Until he went out to get some food. He started feeling a bit better. Well enough to actually help survive. Th He evaded the guards and looked in every room. After looking in one room, he let out a sneeze "AACCHOOOO"
And then he shrunk to about an inch.
He felt dizzy and began running across the floor. In an instant he passed out from the shock.
Alex was among the first people to exit the bunker after the commander's speech. He knew that time was of the essence, plus he was hungry and bored. He grabbed his bag and pulled out his short Jian sword he had gotten while traveling, it had been wrapped in one of his shirts and put inside a zippered pocket on the inside of his bag. The sword had a 22 inch blade and a 6 inch hilt. He put it on his belt and headed out. He avoided the areas he saw others head to, he didn't want to be responsible if the got into trouble. It looks a lot less devastated than I would expect from a nearly world ending catastrophe. He came to a tall hill and climbed to the top to get a better view of the area. He eventually spotted some ruins and headed toward them hoping to find something useful.
As he entered the ruins he heard skittering noises like a small animal running on pebbles. Alex looked around not seeing much, he walked further into the building startling what appeared to be bats. After they settled down Alex noticed some cans laying on the floor near pile of rubble. Tuna, beans, carrots, potatoes... There is quite a bit here He began putting them in his bag and then started to clear away the rubble finding more cans. Soda too? I think I read somewhere that the government did a study that said drinks exposed to radiation through cans and bottles are still good. He opened one and began drinking making a bit of a face. Tastes kinda funny but it isn't too bad, I'll keep some of these for myself. He gathered some more canned goods filling his bag before starting to head back to the bunker.
When he got there he was shocked to see all the dead and dying people, momentarily freezing in shock. One of the people removing the dead bodies asked him for help so he put his bag down and started grabbing those he could tell were dead, avoiding looking at their faces that were unnaturally colored and twisted with pain. As he did so he began to feel lightheaded, he ignored it at first but it began to get to the point where he couldn't stand stably. He headed inside going towards the showers hoping being under the water would help. When he entered he barely noticed the boy who was leaning on the wall as he went behind a curtain undressed and turned the water on and let it run over him. The water helped clear his head but he still felt lightheaded even after staying in the water for a while.
Sasha sat on his bed for a moment after the young woman left. Then, finally, he stood and picked up the fresh clothes to put them on. Once he was dressed, he sat back down on the edge of his bed. Sasha wiped a hand down his face, then rested his chin in his palm. He stared at the wall for a solid ten minutes, his mind wandering back over the last few days and the horrors he had encountered.
He didn't realize it right away when the tear began to roll down his face, but once he did, he didn't care. He had every right to be upset. The only consolation he had was that he'd made it here in time to warn them before the same thing happened again.
Sasha laid back down on the bed, pulling the blanket over most of him. He laid there for the majority of the day, sleeping it off.
Five days later, Sasha was well recovered. He had overcome his sickness and dehydration, and was stronger than ever. Like, unnaturally so. Sasha had discovered this new strength after trying to open a door that stuck slightly, only to tear it off it's henges. He had been very careful after that, trying his best not to damage things.
After a few days, others began to get strange abilities as well. It seemed like a survival mechanism. A strange one, but effective. The commander and Sasha spoke a few more times. When the doors were planned to be open, he wanted Sasha present to help defend the bunker if need be.
Kwan floated in and out of lucidity for an indefinite period of time drifting between fantasy and the past as her temperature zoomed so high she should have died or gone completely insane. She stared in a series of movies and was an international super spy named Lilly Whitefang. When she wasn’t in her fantasy world Kwan was sweating in pain as cramps undulated through her muscles causing her to twist into a writhing ball of whimpering flesh.
She staggered into shower day after day driving herself to continue to cleanse herself of the pollutants she’d sweated out when her blood felt as if it was boiling and she’d gone mad. She was so weak most of the time that she didn’t care if she were clothed or not as she stumbled through the halls unashamed and unaware. The only thing that kept her alive was an ingrained knowledge of chinese medicine and the fact that she never traveled without her herbs as she made teas for herself during her lucid moments.
She woke with a start because her bed was making funny noises and looked around her room stunned by what appeared to be the results of a mad monkey turned loose in her things. Her clothing was everywhere and almost all of it was dirty and she stunk like sour milk which was obviously the smell of pollutants purged from her body. So it took her a bit of searching to find underwear and clothing to wear and the only thing she had left was her costume which she dressed in as Little Whirlwind so sighing she accepted that her fellow bunker mates would possibly be staring at her wondering what was wrong with her.
She grabbed her clothes even taking the accessories for the costume thinking “In for a penny, in for a pound” and headed to the showers and cleansed herself. Later she was dressed as Little Whirlwind complete with the ridiculously large throwing stars that were made to pull her hair pony tails on either side of her head and the spiked wristbands and headed to the Cafeteria
Day 5 10am Sunlight had almost seemed like a foreign concept to Grayson. The idea of a soft yellow light, warm on the skin but not scalding, seemed like an elusive notion that escaped his conscious thoughts.
After having spent around a year underground in a bunker with far too many people, all Grayson could think about was the way the sun light would feel against his pale skin.
His mind had snapped back into attention as the crowd around him surged forward, rushing to escape the bunker. He was caught up in the current and forced out into the open world before he was fully prepared for the horrific scene that would fold out before him, almost like a ghastly theatrical event.
That had occurred three days ago. Before the opening of the doors, Grayson had no idea of the pain and suffering this brave new world would bring to him. The violent seizures, constant headaches, and volatile vomiting were merely three of the innumerable new discomforts brought to Gray by the asteroid.
"As if taking my family wasn't enough... " The bitter thought passed through Gray's head, however it was quickly displaced as a wave of fire engulfed the man's lungs, burning out his ability to do anything but tremble.
The asteroid survivor lay crippled on the ground, curling into a tight ball on the wet tiles. As the barrage of burning agony subsided, he slowly regained a sense of his immediate surroundings. The first sensation that came to Grayson's attention was the warm liquid seeping over his bare body, slipping off of his skin and into a drain beneath his rib cage.
Next came the incessant noise of running water; a faucet showered Grayson with warm liquid. Slowly, with great difficulty and determination, he raised his head, cracking open his eyes just enough to see through the misty air that surrounded him.
Grayson had been washing the pollution off of his skin in the showers when the sickness had overcome him. First came the irrefutable coughing, soon followed by rancid heartburn and wrenching vomiting dizziness and blurry vision had soon followed the unfortunate symptoms. It hadn't been long before the sick man had succumbed to his ailments and blacked out.
Slowly dragging himself along the shower floor, Gray managed to fully immerse his body within the shower's stream of warm water and begin cleansing his skin of the bloody vomit that coating his arms, torso, and legs. The motivation to move disappeared with the unclean substances that coated Grayson's skin. Fatigue set in, sleep came swiftly.
After an indiscernible amount of time passed, the man slowly regained consciousness and energy. After cutting off the water's flow and lackadaisically drying himself, Grayson managed to exit the locker room in a pair of sweatpants and make his way down the hall, leaning on the walls for support.
Harley was heading for the outside doors when she saw the cute guy that is always oddly happy. He always seemed to make her smile. Noticing he still didn't look better she stopped him. "Are you okay? It's Grayson isn't it?" Harley put his arm around her and helped him get back to the living quarters. "What room are you in?"
Grayson wanted to refuse the girl's help, however he was too weak to even protest. He managed a weak nod in response to her first question, however he had to take a moment to compose himself before replying to her second inquiry.
"Room 142." Grayson coughed, turning his head away from the girl to avoid coughing on her. He opened his mouth to ask her to confirm her name, however all that came out was a horrific wheeze.
"I'm Harley. Come on let's get you to bed." Harley got his door open when it happened.
Grayson's body betrayed no harbinger of the vomit until it appeared. Frankly, he was surprised he had any substance left within his stomach to remove; nonetheless, if came forth. The puke covered Harley's left shoulder and part of her hair, giving her a rather awful appearance and stench.
Grayson couldn't even apologize before Harley's sudden shift in her support caused him to fall to the ground, overtaken by a fit of stomach convulsions as his would-be crutch recoiled from him.
Harley hadn't expected it but she should have. It wasn't the first time in the last week someone had vomitted on her. She knelt down and rubbed his back absentmindedly while she looked around for the nearest wheelchair. They had been getting a lot of use this week. "Stay here." She could feel the slimy vomit dripping onto her ear as she grabbed the wheelchair and went back to get him.
Harley helped him into the chair and ran him to the shower doors and she knew she was going to have to clean up so she ran him into the ladies showers. Finding no one in there she took off her jacket and turned the water on to a temperature that wouldn't make him scream from it. Next she pulled him out of the chair and set him under the luke warm water. He didn't even seem to be coherent at this point.
Harley looked to make sure he wasn't looking at her and she slipped into the shower areabehind the curtain. She wasn't sure why she seemed to care. He was too sick to pay her any attention. "Crap!" She said as she peaked out at him and looked at the shampoo bottle across the way from her. She felt the wet slimy stuff running in her hair and she hurried across into the public part of the room to get it. She slipped and when she did her arms flailed in the air and water shot out of her hands like a fire hydrant sending her flying backwards into the wall. Harley shrieked and then she looked up to see his eyes on her. "Close your eyes!"
She managed to get to her knees and slip and slide back behind the curtain. She grabbed a towel and walked carefully to get the shampoo. She had bruised herself pretty good she started to see the bruising as it popped up on her thigh. She groaned.
Grayson slowly brought his head around to watch Harley as she retrieved the bottle of shampoo from the shelf on the wall. From the vomiting and nausea to the odd display of water theatrics, Grayson was left feeling disoriented beyond compare. It reminded him of the few times he had tripped acid in college, however the vomit element added a whole new degree of repulsiveness to the situation.
The water raining from above ran into Gray's eyes, blurring his vision and soaking the pair of sweatpants he was wearing. It took him a few minutes to bring the spasms in his stomach under control; by the time he had finished, Harley had finished her shower.
Now coherent enough to understand the situation at hand, Grayson closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. "My eyes are closed. You can do what you need to." The words sounded choked and sickly, but they were still comprehensible.
Harley peaked out and grabbed her clothes and went around to the other side so he couldn't see her dress without getting up. She hissed as she felt the pain of the deep bruise. "Ohh that is gonna leave a mark." She sighed. She came around and washed off her jacket and she cleaned up the chair and then she started to clean him up. "Good grief you are a mess." She could see that he felt terrible about the whole thing and she halfway smiled. "You aren't the first to throw up on me, just the first one today. Come on let's get you back to your bed."
She loaded him up and took him back to his room. This time he was carrying an empty bucket from the janitor's closet on his lap. Harley smiled at how many showers she had been taking lately. Harley looked at her hands oddly. That couldn't have really happened like that, could it? She was really starting to feel like water was really her element.@King Tai@MissCapnCrunch@Aeternum@RumikoOhara@Spinosaurus@Kyrisse@Metronome
Robert stared at the Asian man's face. There was genuine concern and alarm there as well as something like sympathy or pity. Somehow that was almost worse. Make no mistake, Robert was relieved that he wasn't being laughed at, but having worried someone seriously made him feel awful in a different way on top of already feeling humiliated.
Despite the cold, his face was burning.
He stifled the urge to groan and accepted the Asian man's good will.
"Thanks" he mumbled.
As soon as he was pulled to his feet, he felt his legs start to buckle under his weight. They were still numb.
JJ's eyes widened and he automatically leaned forward to catch the younger boy. His weight, the boy's weight and the slippery shower floor almost made him fall too. Luckily he caught himself and steadied both of them. "You okay?" he finally asked.
Robert flushed harder, if that was even possible.
"Legs are numb." He muttered with a pained expression.
Of course his damned body would have to do this now of all times. In front of someone he knew and respected no less.
"Hmmm? How long have you been in here anyway?" JJ thought back to earlier when he was helping him out. He had fallen asleep right after. How long was he out? 30 minutes? An hour?
"Dunno."
Robert was doing a lot of muttering today. He paused and thought it over a bit. His clothes were damp, but not soaked anymore. His expression grew darker and his voice was even quieter than before.
"A while."
JJ chuckled. "Don't sweat it. You deserve a rest. After all that's been happening today..." his voice trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the events that had transpired. "Even I can't find a reason to laugh or find the strength to try and cheer people up."
They both lapsed into uncomfortable silence.
Robert stared at his toes, and realized he'd need to clean up the mess he'd made. Also, he needed to find a new shower curtain. Oh god, this would be embarrassing. Maybe he'd be able to sneak into a storage room though and find a replacement. He certainly didn't want people to find out about this embarrassing event.
He also realized that he was still leaning against the man while soaked and standing in a shower room. He could feel the heat of the man's body through his wet shirt and then... somehow things got awkward for him. Really awkward.
This moment is perfect for dropping the soap jokes... wait! Shit! Stop it! Stop it!
He was straight, he'd swear it. It was just... awkward... and his stupid brain wasn't helping!
If only he was a girl! Then it wouldn't be so awkward.
He suddenly realized that, if anyone could hear his thoughts, they'd misunderstand.
Stupid brain! I didn't mean it that way! I meant I'd rather lean on a girl than a guy! No wait! I'm not that kind of useless guy! I meant-! Gah! Why am I even explaining this to myself!? This is ridiculous! Someone help!
It didn't seem like JJ minded having Robert lean on him but as soon as he noticed the awkward look on the boy's face, he immediately felt awkward himself. He had no idea what was running through Robert's mind but his mind brought up several reasons why their current situation would give people the wrong idea. "Uh... right. Maybe you should just take a bit of a rest, get the blood circulating in your legs again." he led him over to a wooden bench just a few feet away and sat him down on it.
Robert snuck a glance at the Asian man and noticed that he didn't seem to feel the same awkwardness. So he was off thinking embarrassing thoughts all on his own. A little part of his brain wanted him to cry, or laugh hysterically, maybe both. He was being so weird right now. He was absentminded as the Asian man helped him over to the bench.
"Thanks for earlier, by the way. I still feel like shit but it's a bit more tolerable." JJ lapsed back to his relaxed attitude, unaware that the younger boy hadn't gotten over his awkwardness yet. "Anyway, what do you think will happen to us? I mean, those people... they might have been older than us but we can't be that different from them. Do you think we'll die the same way they did?" he asked, sitting down beside him.
Robert made an absentminded listening sound even though he wasn't paying attention at all to what the man said. Then the asian man sat down next to him. His disordered mind suddenly became even more disordered as he tried to recollect his scrambled thoughts. He fidgeted with a red face, very consciously aware of the man next to him, while his wicked brain was leering at him over his embarassment and adding fuel by the gallons to the roaring inferno. Metaphorically, it seems his brain had hijacked a fleet of fuel trucks.
When Robert didn't respond to what he was asking, JJ blinked and looked at him. Was he okay? He leaned closer, his nose an inch away from Robert's. His face was red. But it didn't seem like he was overheating the way he had earlier. Or at least he didn't look like he was. Figuring he should at least check, he raised his hand and felt Robert's forehead. No, not even close to how hot his skin was earlier. He dropped his hand and raised an eyebrow. "You okay?" he asked for the second time.
Robert's eyes widened as suddenly, the Asian man's face was inches away from his. It was like his brain exploded, his face was filled with heat, while his body froze. His body and mind were being massive traitors today. He thought he heard his soul screaming from somewhere distant. Was the world swimming? Nope, it was his eyes. He couldn't look straight at the man's face.
An irreverant part of his brain cheerfully remarked. He's got a pretty good face doesn't he?
If it was at all possible, he was certain he was flushing even harder than he was before. Whatever part of him that thought came from was, it was an asshole, and it was intentionally making things worse. No, they weren't actually voices in his head. Just thoughts from different sides of him. One side was very much aware of the humor of the situation. The other side... was desperately praying for lightning to suddenly smite him in the showers.
"Uh... yeah... I'm fine!" Robert managed to choke out.
"It doesn't feel like you're running a fever but it doesn't look like you're okay. Can you walk? Where's your room? Mine's just a couple of steps outside the showers. If yours is farther, you're free to crash in mine for the time being." JJ offered Robert his room. Offering his room would mean he would have to stay somewhere else... well, the floor beside his bed wasn't all that bad. He didn't really mind. It was the least he can do as payback for Robert's help earlier.
Robert felt his eyes swimming all over the room. They never stayed in one spot for more than a moment. He thought they might be rolling around like marbles in his skull actually. He might actually become dizzy from this.
"Nope! Nope! Mine's not far! I'll just get going!" he yelped and lurched to his feet.
His legs still felt like jelly, but he sure wasn't sticking around any longer. He sort of darted for his shoes, snatched them up with the shower curtains and made for the door. Somehow he managed to stumble out of the shower room and sort of stagger away down the hall at a surprisingly quick pace.
There were a few wide eyes from passerbys as they watched a teen in damp clothing staggering through the hallways as fast as he could in his socks with a torn off shower curtain and a pair of hiking boots in hand.
JJ stood up, staring after the younger boy as he hurried away. He reached up and scratched his head, wondering what was it he did that seemed to have scared him away. After a few seconds, he shrugged and then stepped out of the communal showers himself. As soon as he did, he felt sick. He shivered this time. Maybe soaking himself wasn't such a good idea after all.
Eventually, Robert had shamefacedly returned to help out with the sick and the corpses. There had been an attempt to bury the corpses, but the ground was hard and packed, and most people were falling sick.
A massive argument had broken out about what to do with the corpses. One suggested cremation, but another argued that fuel would be precious now. One insisted on a proper burial, but was rebuffed with the argument about conserving energy as well as the low food stocks. Someone else made what Robert hoped was a macabre joke about following some ancient traditions and leaving them for the birds so their souls could go to some great sky god or something. Another argued that leaving the bodies outside would attract beasts that would soon associate humans as food from that.
Robert wasn't sure what the best answer was.
If there was a cave around here, entombing them might be an option. Cremation would perhaps be less effort, but he wasn't sure how well bodies would burn and well, it was absolutely true that fuel would be limited. It wasn't like there were that many trees left for wood to burn for one thing. In fact, they would need to look into some alternative heating and cooking systems it seemed.
Robert had a camp stove, but again, it would need fuel and fuel would be limited. He knew he was mentally escaping from the argument.
With a sigh, he hefted a shovel and went looking for a likely location for a grave. He tested the soil with his shovel until he found a spot that seemed pretty good, and then he started digging. After he dug for a few minutes and found that it was still bearable, he returned to the other survivors and simply informed them that he'd found a place that could work and that he didn't want any animals getting to the bodies.
A few backbreaking hours of work with the more able-bodied survivors and a mass grave was created. Robert set some larger rocks a foot away from the corners of the grave to mark it out and then they got to burying. The pile of corpses they'd have to bury kept growing.
He got a headache just thinking about how many graves and mass graves would have to be dug out.
It was dark by the time people decided to call it a day. It was getting hard to see, and no one wanted to get lost, get injured, or get attacked by wild animals after dark.
Robert saw the Asian man as he was coming in, but fortunately the man was busy with the sick. Robert snuck away as fast as he could to go wash his hands, grab a change of clothes, and get a proper shower.
With a groan, Robert heaved himself onto his bed. Dinner had been a dour affair, with people sick, miserable, grieving, nauseated, and thoroughly discouraged. Some people just picked at their food, some scarfed it down like it was the first meal they'd seen in years, and some people, like Robert, grimly soldiered through their meal.
Robert was physically and mentally drained. From the way he felt, he knew he was going to have sore muscles the next day. He'd been on an emotional rollercoaster. He'd seen people die and he'd had to bury some people and haul the dead from the bunkers. That was bad enough but earlier today in the showers.
Urgh, the showers.
He'd forgotten to replace the curtain, earlier. Apparently it wouldn't have mattered much because he'd still been seen running about with the torn shower curtain, so everyone knew he'd been the one to tear the shower curtain. It wasn't so bad, he guessed. He just said he'd slipped in the showers and accidentally tore off the curtains. People asked him if he was fine and someone had helped him find a replacement shower curtain. No one asked anything further, probably because his face was bright red and no one felt like being too much of an asshole right now, he supposed.
To be honest, he certainly wondered what they'd been thinking when he'd "confessed" about his shower mishap. Of course, he hadn't volunteered much information at all, and never mentioned the Asian man.
That train of thought sent him careening down the path of what he could have done better and what he should have done to prevent that ridiculous shower scene. He rolled around on his bed hugging his pillow as he pondered on it for a good thirty minutes before he finally gave up.
To some extent, he really, really wanted to know what people were thinking. For example, what had been going through the mind of the Asian man when he'd seen Robert fall over in the showers? What was the person by the box he'd seen thinking when Robert had let go and left him to die.
He started to feel nausea. He didn't want to think about this. He covered his face with a pillow and shivered a little. It was odd how it felt a little chilly here. Maybe they'd turned down the heat some to preserve energy. He'd never bothered to ask how the bunker maintained power.
He put his pillow back in its place and wriggled under the covers in the dark. As he was drifting off he suddenly came to a realization.
When the Asian man walked in, I could have turned the shower on and pretended I was taking a shower!
The effort to bring conscious thought to his mind was immensely difficult for Grayson, and it took a good portion of time before he was successful. The first thing he noticed was the discomfort and burning pain in his abdomen, followed by the rawness of his throat. He groaned and rolled over in his bed, floundering about while he regained his sense of balance and awareness. The darkness surrounding him was broken only by the small amount of light that creeped in through the crack underneath the door.
Grayson's inhaled deeply, however this action was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit. Phlegm and mucus ran through his throat, further damaging the raw tissues. Grayson continued to rest, sitting quietly in bed for the better part of an hour, drifting in and out of self-awareness. With nothing else to occupy his senses, Grasyon's imagination seized control, displaying for him memories that he would rather forget.
"What's wrong, Gray?" Daniel's soft voice echoed through his mind, bringing a rush of tears to his eyes as he recalled the memory.
Grayson sniffed, wiping is nose with the sleeve of his shirt as he turned away from his brother. "Go away!" The fifteen year old muttered, putting his elbow on his knee and moving his hand so that is blocked his vision of Daniel.
A small, sad chuckle echoed behind him as Daniel took a seat beside his brother, letting his legs dangle off of the edge of the roof. He slowly wrapped his arms around his reluctant younger brother and rested his head on his shoulder, looking out over the neighborhood that the high vantage point provided. They sat in silence, Grayson begrudged Daniel's embrace but unwilling to force him away. He doubted that Daniel would let go even if he did try.
"Talk to me, Gray." The nineteen year old looked over at Grayson's face, unable to make eye contact with him. The younger boy sniffled and shook his head, gazing beyond the view in front of him into the horizon. Daniel gently turned his head so that his nose pressed against Grayson's jaw, his eyes inches from his brother's. "What happened at school?"
After a long moment of silence, Grayson heaved a shakey sigh and swallowed hard. "I miss Greenville." Grayson's lower lip trembled, betraying the fragility he felt inside. "People there had hearts. They didn't hurt you for no reason."
Daniel sat up, resting his hands on Grayson's shoulder and looking at him with concern in his eyes. "Did they hurt you?" Grayson turned his face away, examining a loose thread in his jacket. "Gray, answer me: Did they hurt you?"
After a long moment, Grayson slowly lifted his shirt, revealing bruises running from his lower stomach up to his ribcage before disappearing under his shirt. Daniel uttered an inaudible gasp and slowly traced his fingers over the purple tissue, unable to notice the slight wincing Grayson responded with. "What happened?"
"They said I didn't have any respect." He spoke in an unsteady voice, ripping out the thread in his jacket. "It was just wrestling practice." Daniel ran his hand through Grayson's hair and pulled him closer, hugging him gently.
"It's still not okay for asshats like that to fuck around with a freshman." Grayson jerked his head around, staring at his brother in surprise. Henry, their oldest brother, had issues getting Daniel to even say damn, much less drop an F-bomb. The sudden vulgarity surprised Grayson, however Daniel merely shrugged. "I don't like it when people screw around with my little brother."
Grayson let loose a surprised chuckle and winced, gently placing his hand over his bruised ribs. "Well, I doubt cussing at them will do much good."
"Well, here, I'll tell you what," Grayson pulled his legs back onto the roof and stood up, helping Grayson to his feet as he continued. "Next time one of those half assed-cowards goes for you, do this." He leaned down and wrapped his left arm around the inside of Grayson's leg, putting his right arm around his wait and picked him up. Grayson's let out a surprised shout as Daniel lifted him into the air, worried that they were both going to fall off of the roof. Daniel chuckled and set him down, gesturing vaguely towards the move he had just used on Grayson.
"Make sure to jerk the arm inside their leg up. Gets 'em in the balls pretty good." Grayson raised his eyebrows in surprise; Daniel didn't even arm wrestle because he was scared of hurting someone else.
Daniel shrugged and let loose a genuine laugh. "What? If they're gonna play rough, you gotta too, Gray. And besides, it's legal."
Grayson shook his head and gave his brother a broad smile. "I'll keep that in mind tomorrow."
Daniel smiled and pulled his brother in close with one arm, giving his a rough hug and messing up his hair. "You done moping now? Because there's ice cream inside that's gonna melt soon." Grayson smiled and nodded, making his way towards his bedroom window with Daniel not far behind.
Grayson smiled and opened his eyes. While he wasn't perfect by any definition, he was still far better than he had been when he woke up. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, taking a deep breath. He held it for a long moment, unwilling to let go of this happiness and return to reality. For the first time since the asteroid, he was genuinely content.
He stood up, still holding his breath, and began to walk towards the door, however a thumping noise behind him caused him to turn around. A soft purple glow seemed the illuminate the room, revealing a man unconscious on the floor, dressed only in his underwear. As Grayson moved forward, he recognized the man's face: It was Grayson.
Grayson released a soft gasp. The moment he did, his world disoriented and he jerked awake, laying on the cold tile floor of his bedroom. He looked around, unable to make out anything with his vision except for the small amount of light shining through the cracks in the door frame. He propped himself up on one elbow and peered around.
Was that a dream? Am I hallucinating? Was that just a figment of my imagination?
As he slowly regained his sense of being, he knew it was too realistic to be something he had imagined.
Jason woke up on the floor. That was strange. Sick-induced hallucinations? he wondered to himself. Until he sat up. The room was warped and disorientating. The hallways seemed huge. He was shrunk. Then, somebody began walking by, nearly stepping on him. Almost as if it were natural, he jumped out of the way and ran towards a wall. With another sneeze, he returned back to normal. He almost fell down from being so disoriented. "That.. was fucking awesome." He said blankly, his eyes gazing out to nowhere. He snapped back to it.
He walked into the nearest room, which happened to be 142. He ran to Grayson who was laying down. I'm.. I'm like ant-man! Holy shit!"
[Sorry about the REALLY short post. Life and things. I hope to be on more, post more, and make more quality posts soon. Expect the next one to be a couple of paragraphs as to make up my shit posts lately.]
Harley had gone to get Gray some soup and crackers which seemed to be just about all the kitchen was making considering everyone had been sick. She also grabbed him one of the treasured sprite's for his stomach. When she got to his door Jason was standing in it.
She stepped around him and put the tray down inside. "Do you need help getting up?" Wondering what he was doing down there she decided to join him and sat indian style.
"What's going on?" The look on his face looked perplexed to her.
Her voice softer she asked, "Gray? What happened how did you end up on the floor?" He still seemed off so she did the next thing that came to her mind.
"Come on, I demand you tell me your most inner secrets. You did see me naked after all." She blushed and looked slightly embarrassed.
She looked up at Jason and said, "What? How are you like Antman? I always thought you were more like Spidey." Harley chuckled.
The past four days had been almost unbearable. What JJ figured to be a fever continued to rage inside him, half of the time making him feel like he would ultimately go up in flames. Even the simple act of eating was difficult for him, not that he had much of an appetite anyway. The short lived fever free intervals, he spent doubled over, coughing and wheezing, his lungs seemingly refusing to breathe properly. Some of the survivors in the bunker tried to help, bringing him water, clapping his back to dislodge any mucus that might be obstructing his airway and one even bringing him an inhaler for asthma. But nothing helped. He would always feel dizzy and gasping for breath before the episode subsided.
At least, it subsided. But even that wasn't much of a consolation.
On his particularly violent coughing episodes, thoughts about dying the way the others had would run through his head. Would he just stop breathing like they did? Slump down onto his bed lifeless and hope that those that were still alive would eventually find his corpse before he started stinking up the place? The thoughts would only become grimmer as cough after brutal cough wracked his body. And then as always, that scorching heat would start back up again, marking the end of his coughing episode. He would then toss and turn on his bed but the friction of his body on the bed sheets only made the heat worsen. He could always, however, breathe freely when he was burning up. Damn if you do, damn if you don't.
The late hours of the fourth night had been the worst. While the coughing episode wasn't particularly violent, the ensuing fever reached its peak, making him delirious, his brain probably boiling inside his head. His heart beat was beating so fast, he was afraid it might just abruptly stop or burst out or both. He wasn't really so keen on choosing which would be better. He stumbled around in his room trying to cool himself off but every movement he made seems to aggravate his situation even more. Eventually, he stumbled back into the communal showers as he always did when he heated up, stripped himself and stood under the cool, flowing shower water. At first the water didn't seem to help. It took him a whole hour standing in the shower for the heat to gradually fade away. He leaned his head on the cool tiled walls of the shower stall, wondering how long he can keep up with the fever. Out of force of habit, he lifted a hand to his lips, ready for the hacking coughs to start up again.
But there were no coughs, no wheezing, no gasping for air. Was the heat starting up again? He paused, expecting his heart to start thudding painfully against his chest again. Nothing. Slowly, he reached out and turned the water off. He stood there for a few minutes, letting the water drip from his body. Nothing. No heat, no respiratory distress. His mind had cleared. He tried moving around in the stall, fully expecting the fever to rage again. Still nothing. He let out a relieved sigh. Had he gotten past whatever sickness he caught? Slowly, carefully, he moved out of the shower stall. He wasn't able to bring with him a towel and so he was forced to put on his clothes while he was still wet. That was better than walking around naked, right?
He made his way back to his room, relieved that it wasn't too far. Once inside, he collapsed onto his bed, the weariness from not being able to sleep properly the past few days overwhelming him. Never mind his wet clothes and his wet hair. It only took a few minutes for him to drift off to sleep, his first ever restful one ever since the bunker doors had been opened.
Day 5, 10AM
JJ woke up feeling refreshed and well rested. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, trying to assess the condition of his body. He didn't feel sick anymore. No urge to cough, no need to gasp for air. His body temperature seemed to have normalized as well. Slowly, he sat up. Normally, a small move like that would have made him feel like he was in an inferno but today was different. Today he felt... healthy.
Weird.
But he supposed it was a good weird. He stood up and stretched and figured he better take another shower to make sure his body temperature stayed normal. After which, he would grab something decent to eat... well, at least as decent as the bunker could offer. He grabbed a towel and headed to the communal showers. It felt good to be up and walking around like normal again. He whistled a cheerful tune and peeked into the showers. When he noted that it was empty, he walked in and headed towards a stall. He did a quick impromptu dance just to prove to himself that the raging heat had really subsided. He grinned when he felt fine. He tossed his towel and clothes to the nearby bench and then caught in the moment, he began singing and breaking out into a full dance pretending that he was in front of a cheering crowd.
His right hand sparked flame. As soon as he saw it, he panicked. "What the...?" he waved the hand around to extinguish it. But just like fanning a barbecue grill, the flames spread across his hand to his arm. His mind automatically assuming that he was feeling the flame burning his flesh, he yelped and jumped around. The flame grew bigger, already licking at his shirt's sleeve. He stumbled into one of the stalls, opened the shower and stuck his whole arm underneath it. "What the hell? What the hell?"
Robert woke up with a massive headache. His bedding was rumpled and sweat-stained, and his clothes were soaked. As he expected, he was sore all over from the hard work before. What he didn't expect was to be thoroughly exhausted and nauseated. He wasn't exactly surprised to discover his current state though.
His dreams had been unpleasant, to say the least. He'd dreamed of fields of corpses ripening in the sun as birds fed, snakes slithered, and beasts feasted. He'd dreamed of the dead cursing him for living, for taking their things, for abandoning them, for not saving them. He'd dreamed of accusing eyes, suffocation, and heatstroke. He'd dreamed of smoke, collapsing buildings, and what it might have been like had he not been in the bunker. He'd dreamed of his family, of the asteroid, of wild beasts tearing him to shreds. He'd dreamed of being betrayed, being robbed, being murdered.
Robert swung his legs off the bed and hung his head in his hands. His head was pounding, and he was feeling miserable, and way colder than before. He pulled out a few extra pairs of clothes and a coat and headed straight for the showers.
The shower water was cold, as expected. At least it woke him up. Shivering, he struggled into his clothes. Somehow it seemed harder to keep his balance today. It was probably all the sore muscles and the headache. He made his way back to his room with his dirty clothes, tossed them on his bed, and stripped his sheets and blankets off the bed. He wrapped them into a sort of neat bundle and headed straight for the laundry room. He'd get breakfast after.
After the washing machines started up, he went straight to the cafeteria for food. He didn't know what time it was, but he assumed he was up late. The cafeteria was mostly empty. Like yesterday, he wasn't all that hungry. In fact, the very smell of food made him feel sick. He decided to help himself to some warm soup instead for nutrition.
Even then, he'd struggled to force down the soup. He thought about corpses again and his stomach turned. He managed to finish the soup, but started feeling even worse. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the table holding his stomach to try to warm it up in hopes of aiding his digestion some. He only felt more sick. He desperately held on, hoping that the nausea would start to lessen, but it didn't.
He quickly got up and all but bolted for the nearest restroom. Somehow, despite gagging a bit on the way there, he managed to reach a toilet without incident. He dry heaved for a few moments, then suddenly the food was coming back up.
He stayed there with his head in the toilet for a long period of time. Every time he thought he was finally good to go, he'd start feeling very sick again. Eventually, he started feeling more human again, and washed up. To his immense pleasure, he made it back to his room with a roiling stomach, but without a need to stick his head in a toilet bowl again.
He looked at his clothes and then at the small amount of clean clothing he had left. He hadn't brought all that much clothing. Never mind, he'd better just keep wearing what he had.
The day passed, and Robert worked as hard as he could manage. There were more dead to move, more graves to dig, Some people spent effort on sorting through the possessions of the dead and putting them in neat piles and boxes. Clothing was laundered and stored away.
Robert wasn't sure when the "new" clothing would be passed out, but he wasn't sure he looked forward to that day. Robert listlessly picked through his meals and found to his misery, that he was unable to eat much at all without upsetting his stomach further.
He knew he should force himself to eat. He knew that he'd need the nutrition. Unfortunately, he just couldn't manage to convince himself to do as he should. He had his massive headache to thank for that. It was hard to use his brain at all when it felt like he was constantly feeling his head pulse with his heartbeat.
Robert sighed and gave up on the fruitless endeavor and managed to find some vitamins instead. It wasn't a good replacement, but it was better than nothing. He gulped those down with cold water before stumbling to his room.
The next day, he couldn't even get out of bed. His dreams were constantly filled with horrors. At times someone was pounding away at his head with a rock, or a brick or a bat. At times he dreamed ants were slowly eating him alive and crawling into his ears to slowly eat his brain.
Sometimes he saw the dead, sometimes he saw the living. Whether dead or living, they all cursed him, chased him. He spent his dreams being hunted, eaten alive, cursed, murdered, and tormented.
In his dreams he died in a myriad of ways. Sometimes he slowly died from disembowelment internal injuries, or suffocation. Sometimes he'd had his throat torn out, limbs ripped off, and had his head crushed. Sometimes he was stabbed from behind, beaten to death, thrown off cliffs, strangled, crushed, poisoned, or drowned. Sometimes he froze to death and sometimes he burned to death. The dreams never ended with death. Once he died, he'd become someone else, or continued his dreams as a lonely ghost or tormented soul.
Sometimes, in his dreams he would be forced to do terrible things. Sometimes he was forced to kill his loved ones, or be killed by his loved ones. Sometimes he was forced to watch them die. Sometimes he was forced to torture others to save himself.
He hated the choices the most. He'd long ago believed he would make the right choices. He'd been convinced he wouldn't bend or break to others. To his deep shame, he bent, and even joyfully knelt, all in the name of survival.
He learned about the depths of ugliness within himself as his dreams continued.
He tossed and turned, moaning and groaning as he struggled with his nightmares. In his dreams, his surroundings were filled with uncertainty, danger, and hostile intentions. He could never quite tell who was friend or foe, and he struggled to deepen his understanding.
In his latest dream, he was cold and shivering. He was lost in a barren dead forest of ice. Every step he took cut into his feet. Thin rags were his only protection from the cold. The wind howled, snow blinded him, and pierced right through his threadbare rags. All around him, the wind seemed to roar, and chase him. The ice creaked and there was a faint sound of water spilling over the ice.
The ice formations and the wind and water worked together to create a murmuring sound as he continued on. He desperately needed shelter. He climbed the ice leaving bloody prints behind him. The further he went, the louder the murmuring seemed to get. In the distance, he could see a burning mountain. Perhaps there would be a cave he could shelter in near there. At least if he approached it, he would have heat. He forged forward.
The murmuring got louder, and his head began to ache from the cold. He tried to cover his freezing ears, but that left his torso open to the biting wind. He hunched over further in a sorry attempt to protect more of him from the wind.
The wind nipped at his heels as the murmuring became the roaring of a river. The mountain was far on the other side. He could see a fire. He needed the warmth. He had to reach the fire. He searched for a way to cross, but there was nothing. If he entered the water, he would die. If he stayed he would probably die.
He hesitated, filled with indecisiveness. He looked behind him to find endless fields of ice. Before him was a mountain of fire. There was no choice. He jumped into the river.
He was battered and shaken from all sides. The pressure increased and his body felt heavier as he sank. The raging river seemed to tear at his figure and he felt as if he would soon be crushed.
Robert's eyes flew open and he gasped for air as he shot up into a sitting position. He was drenched, but he had no time to register it or his surroundings. The pressure in his head held for a moment, and then burst.
There was an explosion of sight and sound. His mind seemed to expand out until it covered the bunker. Suddenly he was seeing through hundreds of eyes, from tens of perspectives. What seemed like hundreds of voices invaded his mind. Suddenly he knew so much, too much. He could feel everyone in the bunker, feel their minds, and for a moment, see into their hearts. For what seemed like forever, but was only a moment, he was connected to them all.
Intuitively, he seemed to understand what it was that he possessed and how to use it and the roaring voices went quiet as he erected a shield around himself. Like waves, the voices seemed to build up and pounded away against the temporary serenity he found. Desperately, he tried to hold his protections against the relentless force. He could not persevere.
A torrent of new voices flooded his mind and the innate knowledge he had was swept away in its current.
A wordless scream of fear and confusion blasted into the minds of everyone in the bunker for a moment before it cut off suddenly.
Robert's eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled like a puppet with his strings cut.
Robert basically mind-blasted everyone with feelings of fear and confusion for a moment.
Other telepaths/psychics and people who deal with the mind and emotions may get more than just a blast of fear and confusion. People who are close (emotionally) and possibly even physically might also get more than that blast of fear and confusion.
PM me for more info or so we can talk about what else certain individuals might get (if they want to) and figure out just what that info would be. (For example: Jae might know who it was that felt/caused the confusion/fear in his mind. Empaths might get more of the emotions and possibly even bits of what he's seeing. It will differ depending on powers and possibly proximity)
Kwan made her way to the cafeteria and got a bowl of what passed for soup then headed for a table and nearly jumped out of her clothing when she set it down and her bowl made a harsh buzzing sound and splashed as if something had dropped into it.
It took her a few minutes (actually seconds) of staring at her bowl before she decided she must have just dropped it down to the table and not noticed it. So sighing she sat down and put her spoon into her soup and was once more stunned when the soup seemed to boil furiously around her utensil. She didn’t jump like she did when she sat down her bowl but looked down at the strange sight curious as to its cause. While she was observing her soup she was surprised to realize it was boiling and in fact the spoon was shaking so hard that it was acting like a mixer causing the liquid to undulate around it furiously..
She tried to lift the soup with her spoon and watched as every drop lept from the stainless steel eating utensil each time she lifted it from the bowl. Frustrated she decided if she were going to eat she needed to drink it from the bowl like a street urchin so she lifted it to her lips and was annoyed when it began to splash again.
She sat the bowl down and again there was a buzzing sound and it splashed out onto the table only stopping when she released it. Hungry but also curious she put her fingertip into the liquid and giggled when it began vibrating around it like it had the spoon.
It was her that was the cause of the weirdness and it meant that she could control it because it was internal and she as a martial artist was in control of her body so she sat up clapped her hands three times and held them close to her chest as if in prayer. She focused on her breathing and closed her eyes bringing her center under control.
Sasha found himself in the cafeteria, eating a bowl of what he thought was chili. It was pretty runny, and this was his second bowl, but he felt bad asking for more. The food supply was running low from what he'd heard. Hopefully, once the gates opened again, they could do some hunting.
The large man handled his spoon as if it were a newborn child. He hadn't quite mastered his newfound strength yet, but he hadn't broken anything in a couple days. That was a record he'd like to keep.
Sasha sat by himself at one of the ends of a long table. He hadn't done much socializing around the bunker. Part of him was afraid that, if he did, he would get too attached to the people there. He couldn't afford to be hurt again.
Suddenly, a wave of unease washed over him. Sasha dropped his spoon in his bowl as the feeling on dread settled in his stomach. What if the pirates got in and repeated their atrocities? What if he couldn't stop them? Then, just as soon as if had come, the feeling passed.
Sasha glanced around the see that a few other people had paused as well. This place was getting stranger by the minute.
That day was a day that Jake had been waiting for but felt apprehensive when the day finally came. So bad did he want to run from the bunker and go home. He knew, however, that that would be the most illogical thing he could ever do. So, he spent the first day that the doors were opened by helping as many people as he could. He assisted people back into the bunker, and then had to take the dead back out. The action almost broke him because he knew so many of them. He couldn't bring himself to say anything back to Harley about taking the items off of the dead. He still did it but it hurt him inside.
Day One : Night
Night didn't come fast enough. Bodies of people Jake had gotten to know over the past year continued to drop. Eventually a group of the still living survivors began a discussion/argument trying to determine what to do with the bodies. Jake suggested burning the bodies because he didn't think they'd be able to bury them deep enough to keep their bodies away from animals.
Not many stood alongside his proposition of burning the bodies in order to save fuel. They continued the discussion until Robert came back and said he found a place to bury the dead. At that point the discussion was over and they all started burying the ones that they lost. It took long time of digging and moving of bodies. As it started to get dark many left back to the bunker. Jake was one of the last to head back. Family members of the dead staying longer than he did.
Inside he slowly made his way to the showers. Opening of the doors was suppose to be a good thing, but with so many dead how could anyone be happy at all. He stayed in the shower for nearly an hour trying to make himself forget the horrifying smells and sights of so many dead people. It didn't work and it never would.
Day Two Thru Four
The next few days were filled with the remaining members of the bunker either dying or getting horribly sick. Jake was so tired after the first day of 'freedom' and the fever made him feel even worse. He was dizzy, nauseous, and felt as if he may collapse. Still there were some in worse condition than he was. So, despite how he felt Jake pushed through to assist the ones who were in worse conditions.
Day Five
Jake was starting to fell much better today so he was able to help more than usual. However, it did seem that a large majority of the survivors were starting to fell better as well. Jake hoped that this would be the end of there issues but he knew that was a hopeless dream.
He went to his room to grab a bottle of water he had been drinking on that day. When he went to pick it up bringing his hand up the bottle was missing. He looked at the table and the water was still there. Maybe he had just missed it. Grabbing the bottle again he began drinking the water when it suddenly fell? Wait, what! Jake must not have had as good a grasp as he thought.
When the water hit the ground he bent down to pick it up but the water on the concrete floor caused him to slip. He braced himself for the landing, but instead of getting hurt he felt nothing. He looked at the floor to see a slight dent in the concrete. Then suddenly he felt a short wave of intense fear and confusion. "What the heck is going on?" Jake rushed out of his room. He needed to figure out was going on. He rushed around trying to find someone.
"I can just shrink," he said, obviously sounding insane "I sneezed and then shrunk to like an inch. My reflexes were heightened, kind of like spidey. I'm.. some sort of metahuman.. let me demonstrate."
Jason didn't quite know how to trigger the shrinking. At first, he began visualizing his bones shifting, his spinal cord compressing, and his brain processing faster. His stomach felt sick. He was dizzy. After stumbling back and forth for a bit he shrunk down to an inch.
Still in shock. The side effects were gone. "See..?" he asked. He ran and climbed onto Grayson's bed, looking over both him and Harley. "I'm like ant-man.. kind of."
