You are viewing shatterverse

Life After...

Title: Life After...
Location: Kansas; ShatterEarth




Flash. Bang.

His ears hurt. His Self hurt, but he couldn't think on that for long.

He couldn't afford to think on much else except a very few specific things: Namely, to recall as quickly as he could what had happened to him. It had felt like almost an entire year but the ringing in his ears made him question that. Had it been a couple of days? Had he been drea -- No.

No, he hadn't been dreaming and the stuffed plushie tucked under one arm was a testament that the last however-long hadn't been a dream. Renne puzzled a little longer over this. It was known to happen; he'd experienced it before -- time-jumps, being flung from one thing to the next and either losing or gaining Time, depending on where or when he ended up. It was logical and in an odd way, it made a sick sort of sense.
A door slammed in his face 'there', cutting him off from the two people he'd Bonded with. A Space-Time....belch had snatched him up and spat him out somewhere/somewhen else.
So Renne dropped to all fours and started crawling.


Renne hadn't kept track of how far or how long he'd crawled. His knowledge extends to precisely what he's crawling through and hoping he's not crawling in circles. Around and above him, overgrown plants of something unfamiliar to him tower like a freakish forest. Still, either it's crawl his way through it in hopes of finding something or stop. And think. And he right now, doesn't really want to think.

Just get somewhere.

Oct. 30th, 2010

It was Dean's fault.

See, if Dean hadn't been so busy with Jo and that girl at the farm, maybe he would have been as restless as Sam and maybe they would have found things to do, monsters to hunt, people to save, etc. etc. the Winchester Way. And if they'd been doing that, Sam would not have found himself up against a supernatural creature with Leah at his back.

Not that Leah's... that is, yeah, she's blind, but... because he totally respects her and her past as a superhero, it's just...

Anyway, none of that is the point. Because it's Dean's fault.

But these complaints don't really pop up until later.



Right now, Sam is not cursing Dean. He's thanking him. Mentally thanking him, of course, because Dean's occupation with two women in separate cities keeps him both busy and distant. And this gave Sam plenty of freedom to spend with the female of his choice... without having to listen to Dean be rude and inappropriate.

And spending time with Leah, even just making fun of each others drink choices, was always nice.

So when they both admitted to being bored one day, and had been for several days, with no plans in the near future and no obligations they could think of, Sam found himself saying "Road trip?" and was delighted to hear her agreement.

Granted, he wasn't sure where to go or what to do and, on second thought, wondered if being in a car for an extended period of time was like torture to a blind person. But by that point, Leah had already agreed and he'd been half-packed. They could always come back early.


So there's Sam and there's Leah and there's the Porsche around them, zooming along the road and occasionally bouncing over potholes. And worries or not, the driver of the car looks very content.

Oct. 8th, 2010

The last thing Fynn remembered was drinking his morning coffee, and checking the news on his favourite websites.

Now he has a ringing in his ears, a splitting headache, and his flat is nowhere to be found. Instead, he seems to be standing thigh-deep in seawater.

...It's cold.

Give him a moment to catch up, won't you?

Jun. 27th, 2010

Every little town in Kansas has a bar, still.

Kansas is the only place left in the world where that's so. Everywhere else in the world is pretty much a war zone these days, but life really hasn't changed that much in smalltown Kansas.

Smallville's a bit bigger these days, with a lot more refugees than ever used to come through, but the bar in town is pretty much the same as it ever was.

Just a small room, smelling of cigarettes and beer. Usually populated with between three and ten men, mostly over sixty, talking about the latest events on their farms and sometimes the football. The barman is older than the lot of them, small and wiry and cheerful. (He's named Tom ... of course.) Lots of strangers come and go, of course, and there's plenty of gossip about what's been done to the old Kent place, with its hospital and cruise ship and castle.

The only concession Tom's made to the increased business since the apocalypse is to hire a new girl to help keep up with the drink orders. She's cheerful and sassy, gets on well with the regulars and always seems friendly to everyone. And since she started working, nobody's managed to steal from the place, and there've been almost no fights.

Tom puts that down to her cheerful smile. At least, out loud. He figures it's probably best for their working relationship that way.


It's early evening, and the sun's setting over the cornfields. Anyone want a drink?

Jun. 19th, 2010

Going back means prepping.


And prepping mean guns.


And Jo? Likes guns.

Apr. 7th, 2010

There are important things going on around the farm. Extremely important. Devastatingly important. Life-changing important.

...because if Hana and Loo don't start getting formal lessons in something other than Firebending, their uncle is going to explode.

Thus, there is a young man and two toddlers in the grass outside the farm house, playing with alphabet blocks.

"Can you find your name, Hana?"

"'s."

At least Sokka is quick enough to catch the block she throws at his face. He examines it for a moment, then nods.

"Good job! Find your name again, in Daddy's writing."

Hana frowns, considering this. Meanwhile, Loo discovers her name and hands it nicely to her uncle.


Lessons are coming along nicely, in Sokka's opinion.

Mar. 31st, 2010

Sonia is a woman with a hammer. Also some nails, boards, and other carpentry-related paraphernalia, because there are things that need to be fixed, and Sonia needs to be busy.

She is also a woman with a toddler, who is a boy with a (very small, toy) hammer. He's occupying himself with pounding nails into the dirt. It is very engrossing work.

Mar. 31st, 2010

It's Spring! It's Spring! Yay yay yay!

There are flowers budding on the sidewalk! There are lots of puddles to splash in!

OK yes there are still murderplants to worry about, but Mudkip will keep subway locations and hiding spots in mind because it was a looooong winter and he really, really wants to play now!

Yaaaaaaaay! Photobucket

Tags:

Mar. 29th, 2010

Spots has been growing. This isn't so surprising; things tend to grow. And his mommy, after all, was about the size of California.

But it takes food to grow. And he isn't getting enough, and he's huuuuuungry.


Slosh. Slosh. Slosh. This is a kraken about the size of a minibus, including tentacles, oozing up the slope towards the front door of the farm, large eyes fixed on the kitchen door.

Mar. 15th, 2010

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.)

Shatterverse

Tags

Syndicate

RSS Atom
Powered by LiveJournal.com