shatterverse | (no subject)

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dacemegen-a

(no subject)

New York-- or what's left of it-- is starting to piss Jennifer off.

At least, this year her name has mostly been Jennifer.

She's gone by others, in the past. A lot of others.

Getting back to New York, however: first of all, it's New fucking York. Not Norak, not Station Twenty-Eight-- New York, with cars that run on gasoline and no buildings higher than about a hundred stories. (She hasn't bothered counting, and anyways, half of them appear to have fallen down).

The second problem is that it's full of carnivorous plant life. She lost her shoes the first day and switched out her gloves the second, because the advantage her fingers and toes give to climbing is severely hampered by any attempt to hide them, and currently being inconspicuous is taking a backseat to being alive. So fingerless gloves and toe socks with the ends cut off it is.

Which is how she's currently dangling from a rooftop by her feet, staring down at three rustling green things and calculating her odds of survival if she tries to take them on all at once.

It doesn't look good.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't think they are working..." But it's sounding more likely, at any rate.

"And maybe some supplies down there. So, look for weed killer, maps, and check the subways."

She doesn't make it a question, but she's still glancing between the other two, in case there's argument, or a better idea.

"Light, too. Maybe fire."

"Great. Shopping trip and shelter. Where do we head first, then?"

"Establish a base down below in the subway. Then one of us at a time leaves to gather supplies; the other two guard. I'll be the grocery girl. I'm the most mobile."

Easy shrug. Those hands and feet make it damned convenient to scramble up and down buildings, which is an excellent survival trait in Triffid City.

In the interest of openness, perhaps Jessica should admit that she is not at all familiar with fighting.

Especially not moving plants.

With spikes.

In some kind of disaster-movie New York.

On the other hand, she does NOT want to be left behind.

So she just nods. "Yeah."

"I should be able to get supplies and guard without any difficulty." Tomas pipes up.

"What, at the same time? Pull the other one, it has bells attached."

"No, as in, searching when you're guarding and guarding when you're searching, genius."

Eyeroll.

"OK, kids..."

Are people really this dumb even after high school?

DMG-A grins and steps back, raising her hands. "Sorry, my bad. Wasn't thinking straight."

"'Kay." Shrug. "Should we start searching for some subways, then?"

"I can take us to the nearest entrance."

Again, been here a week.

"Great." Not sarcasm, there.

She readies the letter opener. OK, it's not THAT useful, but it makes her feel a LITTLE bit safer.

"Lead the way, then."

And stairwards she goes, figuring neither of the other two is up for hopping off the roof.

Guh. Street level is NOT pleasant here.

Not only are there the rubble-type obstacles, but there are too many dead people walking around. Jessica is the only person here who has to wade through a crowd in an empty New York.

It doesn't take long for Tomas to start whistling a chirpy tune.

He doesn't like silences.

DMG-A finds the tune irritating, but doesn't let it show. She's endured worse for the sake of making nice.

She dodges around something as she shoots Tomas a Look.

"Shouldn't we be quieter?"

And almost trips over nothing .

"Maybe." Cheerily.

Mildly: "I theorize the trees track people by sound."

Fuck; should've said something earlier. She needs to adapt to the new situation. Survival over hiding. Survival over hiding. These things arae going to trip her up for a while to come, she knows.

Not smug.

OK, maybe a little bit. But mostly relieved and hoping that there aren't any maneating plants nearby.

"Is that it?" She points toward a down stairwell, the banisters partially collapsed under debris, but probably something they can all slip through. With a little effort, at least.

Tomas turns towards Damage, waiting for an answer. He hopes it's an affirmative one - Nice subways are nice.

Damage nods.

"Yeah, you got it."

Jessica peers down. There is a definite lack of illumination in there.

"Anyone got a flashlight?"

"Left mine at home."