(no subject)

[dragonreturned.livejournal.com]

A massive Flying Bison settles onto the lawn in front of the farmhouse and two passengers, who had no idea where they were, sat on its back still clutching its fur tightly. "Well," Iroh says jovially, "It seems we've arrived."

Jona's eyes were wide, "There's a boat. On the land. Now I know that this the fairy world."

Iroh chuckles, "It is very odd, I'll admit." He slid down the side of the Bison to land hard on the ground. "Shall we look around?"

(no subject)

[toomanyofme.livejournal.com]

Out on the front lawn of the cooper farm is a curious site.

There are about a dozen Jamie Madroxes standing there milling about with identical packs slung over the right shoulder.

"So you all understand the goal here?" the one Jamie who appeared to be in charge (and not carrying a pack) said out loud. "Find some transportation and spread out in all directions. If you find something of interest send word back. If you find survivors tell them about the safe zone. Understood?"

All the Jamies shrugged and nodded and got ready to go.

Somewhere, in Kansas...

[doineann.livejournal.com]

Freeport was a ghost town for over a decade.

Was.

The monsters that arrived a mere month ago sent people scattering for safety across the state and after the destruction, after the monsters disappeared from the area, people took refuge wherever they could find intact buildings.

Freeport was lucky. The empty town was spared by the beasts and those who survived the attack began trickling in from neighboring areas. There was a problem, though -- there was no electricity, no drinkable water, and the cans of food they had found stored in the basement of the local church had to be rationed.

Those who felt they had no other choice decided to stay. Those who chose to live left while they still had their health.

Now, Freeport is a town full of the dead and the dying.



When a dense, black stormcloud gathers over Freeport on an otherwise bright and clear day, Doineann, the weather-god of another Earth, has no intention of putting the dying out of their misery. He has no intention of refilling the streams with clean water, no intention of soaking the ground so the crops may grow again, no.

He intends to destroy the town and everyone in it.

And so, he does.

The storm is like no other anyone in Freeport has ever seen before; it takes shape over the town quickly, its clouds dark and menacing.

The first clap of thunder shakes every bit of glass in the town.

The second clap of thunder shatters the glass.

The third is followed by lightning that illuminates the pitch-black sky and casts the giant shadow of a man across the ground, and then the wind comes. It swirls and whips and begins tearing the old buildings apart, sending debris at those most unsuspecting. A man is decapitated by a piece of aluminum siding; a woman, running into the safety of her home, is struck down by an uprooted tree; a small child, curled up underneath his bed, begins crying to his mother.

Doineann works quickly -- he doesn't want to expend so much valuable energy on such a small town.

Within seconds, a tornado is born -- an F3 on the Fujita scale, Doin guesses, not his best work -- and it barrels through the middle of the town, crushing the older buildings and stripping the newer ones of their walls and rooftops.



By the time the storm is over, there isn't much left of the town, and all terrified screaming has been silenced.

Standing atop a cracked wall of the church, surveying the damage, is Doineann in his physical form.

He's smiling.

(no subject)

[winterdog.livejournal.com]

Sitting in the shadow of Shay's fort is Conway, sprawled out atop a stray pile of hay from the stairs.

He's carving a little figure out of a piece of wood he found near the outskirts of town and singing softly in Gaelic.

Loathe as he is to admit it, he really is a Rankin, through and through -- he's got the voice of an angel.

Bother him? He's getting a little tired of picking splinters out of his fingers.

(no subject)

[just-marley.livejournal.com]

Mmm, nicotine. Tastes like nicotine!

Marley was going to give up smoking, but then there was this thing with being teleported to another world and then there was this guy with very bright red hair from the Middle Ages who he knows for a fact that Val is desperately in love with, and there was this thing where the world had ended, so that sort of got dismissed.

Thus, he's standing outside the farm, on his third cigarette in the last twenty minutes.

(no subject)

[slayer_fray]

Mel was quiet partly because when you have superhearing, than tinnitus gets really bad. But also because her babies were crying and she wanted to repack herself into the back seat and rock them gently and distract them with Dino and a strange fluffy yellow blob she doesn't recognise, and clean the blood off them.

Part of the reason she remains quiet even afterwards, as Steph and Sokka gather the fuel up and prepare to drive on to Gotham, is that she had to clean blood off her daughters.

And that she's just murdered a human being. That too.