shatterverse | Entries tagged with alessa gillespie

Winter may still think it is dragging itself out, and it may have these ideas about how it's going to stay cold and crisp, but Steph knows better.

The sky is blue today and there's a hint of warmth in the sun and that means it is properly spring and therefore nobody can complain if she stretches out on a lawn chair in the lawn with a book and basks a little in what sunshine there is.

(wearing long sleeves, because she's not insane and doesn't plan to die of hypothermia either.)

Current Location: Cooper Farm

eureka-bell.livejournal.com

In an encyclopeda, the axolotl is defined as a Mexican neotenic mole salamanders belonging to the Tiger Salamander complex. In practice, it is something like a cross between Kirby and a Wooper.

At twilight, one reddish-coloured specimen creeps a few centimetres onto the pond's bank. Its splayed-out gills quiver a little in the cool air, then stick together as the axolotl's mouth opens and it hoovers up a couple of hapless ants.

...Steve isn't sure how he's come to this point in his life, to be honest.

mark-of-samael.livejournal.com

Alessa is often in two places.

Sometimes, she is awake, and then she is in one place. Right now, that place is the hospital on the farm, where she's gradually healing from third-degree burns on most of her body (and complications thereof). She's been supplied with a small array of entertaining items, including paper and crayons and a few books. She's also got a window, which is nice. It's been a long time since she's been able to truly see the outside.

Sometimes, however, she's not awake, and then she's outside of the hospital, outside of her body, and walking, not burned. And trying to puzzle out what's going on with this new place. Everything is Different! But not in an entirely terrifying way!

In both cases, she can be called upon to interact somewhat. If you're into that sort of thing.

no-guardian-i.livejournal.com

For the ninth day in a row Ichigo Kurosaki wakes up, opens his eyes, and discovers he's not where he went to sleep. At this point, it isn't a surprise anymore. He sits up, his back stiff and sore from sleeping with a backpack on. He swings the thing off and lays it on the ground in front of him, opening it up so he can put on his clothes. After all, if you had fallen asleep twice fully clothed and woken up naked both times, you'd start sleeping naked too. By the third day Ichigo gave up and learned to sleep with his clothes stuffed in a bag on his back.

He's been in Shatter nine days. Nine days without meeting a living soul, nine days of wondering if he's the last human alive on this stupid planet. Nine days to get from Japan to (he thinks) America. And he barely remembers any of it.

Fully clothed now, Ichigo stands up and stretches, trying to recall his dreams from the night before. They're his only way of figuring out where he is at this point. He's silent for a few seconds, letting it come to him slowly. Mostly it's the same. Darkness, running, pale white sand, more darkness. But then something different. People. The smell of people living, breathing. He sees buildings, food, signs and lights and most importantly, people.

Adjusting the straps on his bag to make it small enough to fit him, Ichigo turns in a circle, trying to figure out where it found them, these people, this city. Before long he stops, takes a deep breath, and starts walking. He's nervous, and they can't be more than a day's walk. Looks like it's time to say hello.

[Ichigo's about a half a day's walk from Metropolis.]

mark-of-samael.livejournal.com

It's evening when the girl appears (literally) in the fields next to the Cooper farm. She walks toward the buildings, with the hesitant stride of someone afraid they'll be caught doing something wrong.

Half of Alessa wants to just run away now, but the other half is stubbornly sticking to the idea that she's been given a name and a location, so she may as well check them out. Even if it involves the terrifying prospect of talking to more people.

tobeclosetohim

She lost track of the days but the light comes all the same, rudely interrupting and cruelly abandoning. Her weapons are pilled in the front room, where the floor is littered with food boxes and alcohol bottles acquired but left untouched. There's a sharpness lingering throughout the unaired rooms.

Jo herself is sitting on her bed, dressed in the clothes she put on after stitches a week ago, her arm around her knees, staring at one open hand. In the palm of it is a small shining trinket. A bright green four leaf clover held between two thin layers of glass and rounded in a loop of gold.

"Help," she whispers, the sound more of a wheezed croak of notes caught in her chest.

The gold band snaps and the glass shatters, the clover looking suddenly brilliant summer green.

Jo set her chin on her knees, moving her gaze to her boots, listening to the even keel of her breath. But no other noises sounded, and when she looked back to her palm the clover was half shriveled from the outside headed further in while the glass pieces were shrinking.

Glass embedded against green and pink skin inside a closed fist, as she murmured to her boots and dust was left in her palm. "Not your lucky penny anymore."

xxhottgirl4uxx.livejournal.com

Long hard night of work, and nothing but baked beans in the local grocery store? Feh.

Jane sighs, and buys three immensely overpriced cans anyway. It's not as if there's anything else around this week. Life is more fun in Metropolis since the apocalypse, but it's a lot harder, too, in some really unexpected ways.

It occurs to her just before she opens her front door that she's left her stompy boots at the club - with the night's takings stashed in the toe. Damn. That won't be there tomorrow if she doesn't go back now.

So:

Dawn is breaking over Metropolis, and a tired-looking girl in jeans and a sweater is walking down a seedy street, alone.

mark-of-samael.livejournal.com

She has never been to Metropolis. She has never been outside Maine. Except part of her- the part that re-lived their first seven years- has. But that part has also never been to Metropolis.

( She's not entirely sure where this is, or how she got there. )

She wanders the side-alleys, shrinking behind trash cans and dumpsters when people go by, peering out when the coast seems clear. Nothing is familiar; not the unusually tall buildings, not the flat horizon, not the size, not the store names.

She isn't sure whether that's more frightening or a relief.

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Shatterverse Panfandom RP

Entries tagged with alessa gillespie

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