Piqsy Member
just a good egg
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 110 (0.03 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Piqsy 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Still alive! I would've posted tonight but we had a big gig to play earlier (never ever agree to hours of practice again!). I will have more time now, though, so hopefully I can be a bit less sporadic.
I love your first plot idea! Pm me, and we could start something off?
I posted. I know it's not great but it's there.
Marnie backed away from where the noise was coming from, her knife in her good hand while the other was hidden in her back pocket. Step by tiny step, she manoeuvred away. Her breath was trapped in her throat, fear making her as wild as the wolves that roamed. And then there was a noise from the other direction, making her jump and fall awkwardly, her half-hand almost useless in stopping her loud crash to the ground. She had yelped as well, a habit left over from when pain was an inconvenience and not a threat to her life.
Perhaps, just a perhaps and nothing any more hopeful, it was an animal. Something that wouldn't kill her on sight without a second thought. And deep inside, she prayed it wasn't the Children of God. There was no God behind their actions, only hatred and violence. She wouldn't stand a chance. There was a few seconds she didn't breathe, curled on the ground in a heap.
She swore under her breath, but sat there and listened. To hear if there was anything that had heard her fall and more importantly, if they were coming to investigate. This was a problem. The knife was no threat to anyone with a bigger weapon, but it served its purpose to kill animals. She pulled it out from where it was stuck in the ground and sat up, gripping it tightly as she checked around her. The ammunition in her bag was no use without a gun and that had been taken from her long ago. She shouldn't have stayed in New York. It would only kill her in the end.
Perhaps, just a perhaps and nothing any more hopeful, it was an animal. Something that wouldn't kill her on sight without a second thought. And deep inside, she prayed it wasn't the Children of God. There was no God behind their actions, only hatred and violence. She wouldn't stand a chance. There was a few seconds she didn't breathe, curled on the ground in a heap.
She swore under her breath, but sat there and listened. To hear if there was anything that had heard her fall and more importantly, if they were coming to investigate. This was a problem. The knife was no threat to anyone with a bigger weapon, but it served its purpose to kill animals. She pulled it out from where it was stuck in the ground and sat up, gripping it tightly as she checked around her. The ammunition in her bag was no use without a gun and that had been taken from her long ago. She shouldn't have stayed in New York. It would only kill her in the end.
Justine hadn't wanted to look. She doubted she'd understand it, but judging the reactions of the others ignited the morbid curiosity inside her. And God, she wished she hadn't. She held the phone out for the next person to see with one hand, covering her mouth with the other. A single, choked sob came out between the whispered "Pourquoi?" and the realisation that her brothers would never see her again. Or would the shooters go for them, too? It was unlikely, but the sinking feeling was there.
"Is not a accident." She managed to force out, but it was quiet and possibly unnoticed over the sound of other people's sobs. Somebody had arranged this, to kill their entire town, with them inside. Just for... For what? It was evidently something worth wiping an entire town off the map for, so something huge.
She hunched, looking at the others owlishly, hoping to pick up on something. Perhaps. It might have been possible had they not been the most conspicuous group of people she had ever seen. They didn't belong together, and she clearly didn't belong with them. Why would she? If she didn't understand them, they would hardly understand her.
Justine prickled, before standing and moving to the edge of the group. Where she felt more comfortable, less inclined to be part of their conversation. A sick feeling had settled deep in her stomach and she knew it wouldn't go any time soon.
"Is not a accident." She managed to force out, but it was quiet and possibly unnoticed over the sound of other people's sobs. Somebody had arranged this, to kill their entire town, with them inside. Just for... For what? It was evidently something worth wiping an entire town off the map for, so something huge.
She hunched, looking at the others owlishly, hoping to pick up on something. Perhaps. It might have been possible had they not been the most conspicuous group of people she had ever seen. They didn't belong together, and she clearly didn't belong with them. Why would she? If she didn't understand them, they would hardly understand her.
Justine prickled, before standing and moving to the edge of the group. Where she felt more comfortable, less inclined to be part of their conversation. A sick feeling had settled deep in her stomach and she knew it wouldn't go any time soon.
He nodded, very slightly. She seemed a little curious about the whole "family" thing, but she said nothing of it. It shouldn't have to be a major issue. It didn't bother him often. If she had cared, she would have asked him about it, and she hadn't. Time to move on.
"My house is around the corner. I have plenty of things for that." He offered, before realising how creepy that sounded. He shook his head, pressing a hand to his forehead in embarrassment. "No, I don't mean that, I'm sorry. I promise there's no bodies or anything there, but you don't have to go in if you'd rather not." He babbled. He didn't speak to many people any more. Not unless he killed them after. Most victims were going unconscious before he got there.
"My house is around the corner. I have plenty of things for that." He offered, before realising how creepy that sounded. He shook his head, pressing a hand to his forehead in embarrassment. "No, I don't mean that, I'm sorry. I promise there's no bodies or anything there, but you don't have to go in if you'd rather not." He babbled. He didn't speak to many people any more. Not unless he killed them after. Most victims were going unconscious before he got there.
The group had all introduced themselves, one by one. Michael and Leon and Henry and Raven and Lillah and Raphaela and Spark, she recalled in her own head, the very English pronunciations sounding like familiar things, pronounced wrong. Her mother had been popular in town, and had wanted her to make friends. She'd probably suggested that she befriend a few of them when they were new in town. She never had. She was still sat trying to fix the words together as Michael talked. He was quite talkative, but seemed friendly, although half of his words were nonsense to her.
Justine looked around the group to check the names were in her head, that she wouldn't forget them, in case she needed to know them. It wouldn't do to offend anyone unnecessarily. She'd heard some of them mentioned when people were talking with her parents. She closed her eyes, trying not to think about them being gone. Her whole life had burnt out in minutes. "I," she had to pause, trying to fit the English together like a puzzle to be solved as she tried to join in. "be Justine."
The mistake went unnoticed by her as she pieced together what else she would have said, had her cheeks not been burning in childish embarrassment at the stupid pause in the middle of her introduction. 'My parents did make... Drink. '. She swore under her breath at the missing word, hunching up in shame. She despised English almost as much as she hated America now.
She let the spotlight move on, forcing a weak smile to hide how humiliated she felt. It wasn't even like she was the only immigrant there, since Leon, or one of them, spoke Spanish and English fluently. It made her seem foolish, like a child, and that weakness could kill her. Nobody had any choice but to put up with each other now, so it was best not to irritate them with her frankly appalling grasp of their language.
Justine looked around the group to check the names were in her head, that she wouldn't forget them, in case she needed to know them. It wouldn't do to offend anyone unnecessarily. She'd heard some of them mentioned when people were talking with her parents. She closed her eyes, trying not to think about them being gone. Her whole life had burnt out in minutes. "I," she had to pause, trying to fit the English together like a puzzle to be solved as she tried to join in. "be Justine."
The mistake went unnoticed by her as she pieced together what else she would have said, had her cheeks not been burning in childish embarrassment at the stupid pause in the middle of her introduction. 'My parents did make... Drink. '. She swore under her breath at the missing word, hunching up in shame. She despised English almost as much as she hated America now.
She let the spotlight move on, forcing a weak smile to hide how humiliated she felt. It wasn't even like she was the only immigrant there, since Leon, or one of them, spoke Spanish and English fluently. It made her seem foolish, like a child, and that weakness could kill her. Nobody had any choice but to put up with each other now, so it was best not to irritate them with her frankly appalling grasp of their language.
Marnie hated the zip on that bag. It was old even before the Apostate, and stubborn even before that. But with less than half of her right hand to use, Marnie despised it even more. It wasn't even like she would just find something to replace it. Eventually, it did close, but not before the imprint of the zip was firmly embedded in to her thumb. "Stupid thing," she grumbled under her breath, before heading out of the old apartment block, and in to the street. She needed to head towards the centre of town, that was where Central Park had been, obviously. Now it was just a slightly more green wilderness within the world.
She'd never seen it in real life before. She'd lived in Florida when she first emigrated, and had always lived too far south for a trip to New York to be a reasonable idea. She and Francis had always talked about it, for their honeymoon, for their first anniversary, their fifth anniversary, and then the baby had came, so the money had gone.
It didn't seem like much now. It was just ugly and wild, like everything else. She heard a crackle from the trees around her, and she quickly froze, stuffing her weaker hand in to her back pocket to hide her weakness. She didn't dare make a noise, as the last time she had ignored something like that, it had been one of the Children of God, her companion had died and she'd lost most of her hand. It felt odd thinking of that. Most likely, that was why she didn't.
But she had to focus now, no letting her mind wander. There might be something lingering, watching her. It could be a person, or an animal, or even a Child of God, the damn things. They didn't qualify as humans any more.
She'd never seen it in real life before. She'd lived in Florida when she first emigrated, and had always lived too far south for a trip to New York to be a reasonable idea. She and Francis had always talked about it, for their honeymoon, for their first anniversary, their fifth anniversary, and then the baby had came, so the money had gone.
It didn't seem like much now. It was just ugly and wild, like everything else. She heard a crackle from the trees around her, and she quickly froze, stuffing her weaker hand in to her back pocket to hide her weakness. She didn't dare make a noise, as the last time she had ignored something like that, it had been one of the Children of God, her companion had died and she'd lost most of her hand. It felt odd thinking of that. Most likely, that was why she didn't.
But she had to focus now, no letting her mind wander. There might be something lingering, watching her. It could be a person, or an animal, or even a Child of God, the damn things. They didn't qualify as humans any more.
They had all followed the one who had been given the phone, the one they had all appointed unofficially to become their leader. Most of them carried something. Justine tried to focus on the way the weight of the tent dug in to her hands, but that led to comparing it with other things she had carried, which reminded her of traveling to America, pulling a suitcase in each hand and a bag on her back. It reminded her of working on the vineyards, both in California and France. Reminded her of family. Reminded her of fire. She worked quietly to set up their camp, counting in English as high as she could remember, before changing to recite every English word she knew and it's meaning in French under her breath, trying not to think too deeply. It didn't take long enough.
Justine hunched quietly beside the fire, sure that she'd never sleep again. She could still smell it, the entire town burning, with everyone in it. And her two remaining brothers would assume that she was there with the rest of the family. It made her feel sick thinking about that. Her remaining brothers, meaning that Hugo and their parents were gone, forever. Full stop. There was a sinking feeling inside that she didn't want to admit was there.
Of course they were all upset, heartbroken, even, but Justine felt numb now. It was little more than a subtle ache in her head and the frightening idea that she was now painfully alone in the world, fleeing with a handful of people she could barely talk to, even if she had had a better grasp on their language. The fire was hot on her face as she looked at the people around her, all around her age
She grimaced at the way the boy winked at two of the girls, mildly disgusted, before settling on the boy who had lit the fire. "Did not expect your, uh, bad habit to become useful, huh?" She attempted to make conversation with her broken English with a faint smile, letting herself fall back to sit on the grass. It wasn't cold enough to need to huddle around the fire, but she didn't want to be left alone to think about what was happening. She didn't want to think about anything.
Justine hunched quietly beside the fire, sure that she'd never sleep again. She could still smell it, the entire town burning, with everyone in it. And her two remaining brothers would assume that she was there with the rest of the family. It made her feel sick thinking about that. Her remaining brothers, meaning that Hugo and their parents were gone, forever. Full stop. There was a sinking feeling inside that she didn't want to admit was there.
Of course they were all upset, heartbroken, even, but Justine felt numb now. It was little more than a subtle ache in her head and the frightening idea that she was now painfully alone in the world, fleeing with a handful of people she could barely talk to, even if she had had a better grasp on their language. The fire was hot on her face as she looked at the people around her, all around her age
She grimaced at the way the boy winked at two of the girls, mildly disgusted, before settling on the boy who had lit the fire. "Did not expect your, uh, bad habit to become useful, huh?" She attempted to make conversation with her broken English with a faint smile, letting herself fall back to sit on the grass. It wasn't cold enough to need to huddle around the fire, but she didn't want to be left alone to think about what was happening. She didn't want to think about anything.
Sixx said
Cheers (I was never actually grounded so I wouldn't know). *eyes mst3k suspiciously* Please don't kill me with cookies, although, I suppose there are worse ways to go..Death by cookies actually sounds pretty sweet.
I'm going to ignore the hideous pun I could make with that last sentence.
It totally wasn't about sugar content
© 2007-2024