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secondfather) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
jumpscares2015-11-04 03:07 pm
secondfather) wrote in jumpscares2015-11-04 03:07 pm
( open ) somewhere in this city is a road i know
▶ WHO: Miles Matheson, and anyone else who can manage to deal with this cranky bastard.
▶ DATE: late August sometime (backdated cause i failed getting him in fast)
▶ WARNINGS: none as of yet.
▶ SUMMARY: Former Commanding General of the Monroe Militia arrives.
[ miles wasn't sure what happened. one second he was coming back into camp from a hunt, and the next thing he knew a wave of dizziness swept over him. it was followed quickly by an exhaustion he couldn't shake. he thought he heard charlie call out for him, but then he was falling---flying---caught in a blast---he didn't know.
he grunted when he landed, finding himself on an empty, unfamiliar highway, and pushed himself up in confusion. he got to his feet, and started to look around, but there was literally nothing to see. no people. no abandoned cars from when the blackout happened. no nearby camps.
miles!
he thought he heard bass. or was that charlie? he couldn't think for the exhaustion starting to seep into his bones again---he managed a few steps, hands on his sword hilts to minimize the swinging from his unsteady gait. the colors fade and blur of any detail, and he's falling again.
he wakes up with a jolt on an unfamiliar bed. his hand finds his sword hilt first, but he stops pulling it out when he realizes he's alone in the room. he doesn't recognize the place, just like the weird dream about a highway that went all salvador dali on him. it doesn't mean he's going to stick around and find out if anyone around here is welcoming.
a quick search around him, finds a box of flares under his bed. he makes use of the pockets on his jacket since he doesn't see a bag or duffle around to use instead, he frowns at the ripped up business card and pockets it as well. the last thing he finds is the radio, and he grabs it as well, hooking it to his guard belt, and moves to make his way out of the room.
with any luck whoever is here isn't well trained or doesn't have guards posted. without knowing the full details of why he was brought here, he doesn't want to have to hurt anyone unless he has to. here's to hoping he can get out of dodge without incident. ]
[ooc: open to brackets or prose! ]
▶ DATE: late August sometime (backdated cause i failed getting him in fast)
▶ WARNINGS: none as of yet.
▶ SUMMARY: Former Commanding General of the Monroe Militia arrives.
[ miles wasn't sure what happened. one second he was coming back into camp from a hunt, and the next thing he knew a wave of dizziness swept over him. it was followed quickly by an exhaustion he couldn't shake. he thought he heard charlie call out for him, but then he was falling---flying---caught in a blast---he didn't know.
he grunted when he landed, finding himself on an empty, unfamiliar highway, and pushed himself up in confusion. he got to his feet, and started to look around, but there was literally nothing to see. no people. no abandoned cars from when the blackout happened. no nearby camps.
miles!
he thought he heard bass. or was that charlie? he couldn't think for the exhaustion starting to seep into his bones again---he managed a few steps, hands on his sword hilts to minimize the swinging from his unsteady gait. the colors fade and blur of any detail, and he's falling again.
he wakes up with a jolt on an unfamiliar bed. his hand finds his sword hilt first, but he stops pulling it out when he realizes he's alone in the room. he doesn't recognize the place, just like the weird dream about a highway that went all salvador dali on him. it doesn't mean he's going to stick around and find out if anyone around here is welcoming.
a quick search around him, finds a box of flares under his bed. he makes use of the pockets on his jacket since he doesn't see a bag or duffle around to use instead, he frowns at the ripped up business card and pockets it as well. the last thing he finds is the radio, and he grabs it as well, hooking it to his guard belt, and moves to make his way out of the room.
with any luck whoever is here isn't well trained or doesn't have guards posted. without knowing the full details of why he was brought here, he doesn't want to have to hurt anyone unless he has to. here's to hoping he can get out of dodge without incident. ]
[ooc: open to brackets or prose! ]