shatterverse | (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

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."

DMG-A just shakes her head.

:/

"I knew I should've gone to girl scouts." Oh well. At least she can try to peer in and see if anything in there looks like a carnivorous plant.

Mostly, it looks like toppled fare machines and broken tiles.

"Perfect preparation for the end of the world."

Great.

"I have enhanced night vision. I'll lead."

And down the stairs she trots.

Enha-

Oh, geez. She's in a science fiction movie.

She just hopes she's one of the main characters and not the Token Minority That Dies.

(And, of course, she's probably not in much of a position to complain, based on her own "enhanced vision.")

Slipping through a hole in the debris, she follows, tiptoeing carefully on the scattered bits.

"Lucky us."

Slipping through a hole is a little more difficult for him. Most of them aren't quite big enough.

DMG-A is already inside, maneuvering effortlessly through the wreckage.

"Nothing moving down here but us. Watch your step-- walk slowly."

Jessica jumps and gasps, scooting closer to their leader. In theory, nothing but the plants are going to hurt them. Hopefully.

OK, nothing but the plants are going to hurt the other two.

"I wonder if there's a reason the plants are staying away from here, or if it's just that it's not interesting enough for them?"

"Lack of sunlight."

"Maybe there are some more survivors here, too..." It's a fairly vain hope, but at this point she'd be happy to see more living people.

"It could happen."

His tone betrays the fact that he doesn't actually think it's very likely.

"I don't hear or see any."

The tone implies that therefore there are none.

"There are other stations..." C'mon, guys, let her hold onto a tiny bit of shining hope!

"Wait." She pulls the cell phone out again, flipping it open. ILLUMINATION! Not terribly bright, but good enough for those without special eyes!