( OPEN ) GAME START.

[monstermasher]

▶ WHO: Everyone.
▶ DATE: July 9th, 2015 (Day 1)
▶ WARNINGS: Blood, violence, general zombie horror.
▶ SUMMARY: You've met with a bad... however that line goes. Welcome to Earth.

GOOD MORNING!

---

Please try and ignore whatever it is that you just heard. It should only last for up to a minute... maybe.

It... it is morning, right?

There are no windows.

There's a light, but it's barely considered one. The compound runs on a solar generator, but that doesn't mean it has a lot of power. The light seems to be hanging from the ceiling, swinging precariously. That's when you might actually start to wake up, sit up, find the things that are familiar to you... and then some of the things that aren't. It'd be wise to explore the small room you're in before leaving through the steel door, but there's nobody around to tell you that.

Outside is a tightly knit compound, just as dark and metallic as the room. The hallway you're in houses dozens more doors identical to yours, and if you're unlucky there may be more people poking their heads out through them, just like you. There's a dull glowing sign that reads MEDICAL BAY but not all of you remember being hurt. Some of you may be just fine, apart from the memory of the sound you heard when waking up.

The Medical Bay is stocked with enough medicine to last a couple of months. There's almost everything that can be found in a hospital. Somebody was thinking ahead.

Outside of the Medical Bay are more doors, some are even locked—many aren't. There are living quarters, a food storage, a kitchen, some laboratories; even a room full of computers and nothing else, all with a screen asking for a password. There's only two doors out of the compound, a vehicle bay with what appear to be a few military jeeps and trucks, and the front doors. It's on the inside of the front doors that something is painted in bright red, flecked with what smell like blood:

DO NOT GO OUTSIDE WITHOUT A GUN AND WATER.
GUNSHOTS ATTRACT THEM.
HOLLOWS IS 1.3 MILES NORTH OF HERE.
GOOD LUCK.

And on the outside of the doors, if you choose to open them:

THE WORLD ENDED JULY 3RD, 2015.

Now... how long ago was that? And where is this place? Luckily for you, Hollows is a small town that can be raided. It hasn't been too long since the apocalypse—surely you'll be able to find something there. Batteries, food, weapons, maybe some people—and what you're guaranteed to find. Them, whatever that means.

Outside of the compound there's a fence with a single gate. Nothing can get past this unless you let them in for tea, so be careful. There's a shooting range and a large shed full of weapons and ammo, enough to last two months if you're careful. Guns, knives, anything that would be used by the military and police is hidden away in the shed. There are even a few hunting bows with arrows.

If you climb up the ladder to the top of the wall, there's enough room to walk along the top. There's definitely something moving in the distance, something you should definitely be worrying about. Maybe it's time to get a good look with a sniper rifle...?

Oh.

It's gone.

Maybe it was just a trick of the light. Regardless, it's impossible for everyone to stay in the compound forever. There are nefarious things at work! The choices are to go to Hollows, stick around, or go somewhere else. Really, the world is almost a blank slate. Maybe more of a used slate, but still yours to explore.

When the night comes, you should be hiding. The screamers, the ragers, whatever the hell they are, are running full tilt through the streets and across the landscape, running through anything in their way, ripping apart anything alive. If you don't make any noise, they won't notice you. Especially since they're stuck listening to each other. But if you get noticed by one, it won't be long until a horde forms... you might be able to outrun one for awhile, but they don't seem to let up on their breakneck pace. Maybe someone should have told you how to kill them.

OOC NOTES.

---

There will be zombies in Hollows. Whether you meet them on the way there is up to you. Apart from the undead and the animals (maybe somebody should let those poor creatures out of their houses) the town is completely deserted. In fact, the closest thing you can find to a human are the bodies of those who died without being bitten, and there's even few of those. You can find anything you'd find in a normal town here, and are free to loot and raid the houses and stores—the cops won't be coming, after all. The power is OFF apart from what you can find that is solar powered or still has a charge. If you're lucky and find another town while exploring the first few weeks, you might find an area that still has power—thank hydroelectricity.

Just keep in mind travel time... and travel expenses.

You have creative freedom over everything else. The world is open. The only stationary places are landmarks and cities—if you want to go to Texas and talk to the poor astronauts stranded up in space, it's there. (Might be a long trip, though...)

If your character can figure it out by geography before getting to Hollows, the compound is located a few hours from the west coast, in California.

The way to kill a zombie is blunt force to the head. The head doesn't need to be removed, but significant damage needs to be done to it. This does not include the throat—it needs to be a headshot.

There's also a glaring hint. The computers in the compound, asking for a password. It is impossible to hack at this time. There will be more on this later!

Finally, if your character is exploring outside of the compound (or extensively inside of it) there's a comment here for linking me the thread. You can also PM me! I'll be ducking in with what your character may or may not have found, via a response to the actual RP thread.

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS please direct them here!

Comments

EXPLORATION TURN IN.

[monstermasher]

If your character is exploring the outside (or extensively in the compound) drop a link here or PM monstermasher with a link and/or details.

[controlledvariable]

drops this here because Steph is exploring both the compound and the Hollows

and look someone had to be first

Steve Rogers | OTA | Prose or Actionspam!

[usavatar]

He folds the flag and puts it on his pillow before he leaves the room. It's one-part giving himself time to think, one-part giving whoever did it the proverbial finger. He's in his dress greens, still, not injured as far as he can tell. The shield Howard gave him two weeks ago, his compass, his journal - he's still got everything he had before...

Whatever happened.

A quick search of the room doesn't tell him much, though he does find a drawing tucked away. It makes his scalp prickle. This place is military. It seems military. But it's certainly not a military he's familiar with.

Steve settles the shield on his arm, still not quite used to the feel of it, and moves very quietly into the hall and the compound beyond.

The first think he'll do is try and find a vantage point outside to see where he is. Or, alternatively, try to find someone to interrogate.

[oracleofgotham]

He's so quiet coming down the hall, Barbara didn't hear him approaching her door - she nearly hits him as she rolls out of her own room, pulling up hard to avoid a collision, and narrows her eyes behind her glasses as she looks up at him. Military... just like this place, by the look of it.

"You. What the hell am I doing here?"

It's difficult to seem threatening when you have to crane your neck to look someone in the eye, but Barbara has mastered the art.

Kieren Walker | In The Flesh | OTA

[zombae]

[Nobody wants to wake up in the middle of the zombie apocalypse. Especially if it's the second time.

And all right, the last time Kieren went through this he was more sort of, part of it. He wishes he didn't remember it so well: scratching at the lid of his coffin, then punching through it. Digging his way up through the dirt. And then... the hunger. He really wishes he didn't remember the hunger.

But he's treated now. His Partially Deceased Syndrome is totally, probably under control. And if the white skin and bleached out eyes are a little uncomfortable for the living to look at, well. He's got cover up and contacts for that. Except, not here. There's none of that here. He doesn't even know who here is, or who he knows who might be crazy enough to kidnap him and lock him in a bunker.

No, all right, he knows a few people who'd be crazy enough to kidnap him and lock him in a bunker. But he doesn't know why. The business card lying on his chest when he wakes doesn't do a thing to explain it, and nor do the photos. They just make him worry about where his family actually are.

And is he alone here?

And if not, what the hell was growling at him when he woke?

There's the option of staying right where he is and letting whatever might be out there come to him, or there's the option of heading out to find it. He's not really sure which one frightens him most, but the small room he's shut in is claustrophobic and he needs to...

sort of needs to breathe. So that makes the decision for him. He pulls his hoody as close as he can over his head, too aware of his bare face, and stumbles out into the hall.]

[debts]

[ Too bad for Kieren.

Natasha doesn't point her gun at him. But her hand is on the grip of the pistol at her thigh, and she blinks steadily, one hand clutching the strap of the medical bag over her shoulder. ]

Hey.

[ Old habits. She raises a brow, the turn of it suggesting something a little amused despite how she stands in the middle of the hallway. ]

I don't think they have security cameras here. [ With the hoody and everything. ]

natasha romanoff | OTA.

[debts]

[ Something hums. Large, like an MRI, some sort of staticky hum.

This definitely isn't New York.

Natasha knows what it's like to live in fear. She knows what it is, what it feels like, and it's kept her alive so far. She respects it in a different way than when she was younger, but that doesn't mean she should give it any less credit.

The redhead in a head-to-toe catsuit moves quickly. Having time to process isn't the priority here. The sticky knife next to her is held directly in her hand, shoulders tight with tension as she stalks across the medical bay. No files; some medicine. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a medical bag. Empty. It's small, but it'll do.

You can find her looting, cans of food, a lot of water, one set of batteries, painkillers, that Stephen King book stuffed into the bottom of that medical bag. Syringes, mostly, and morphine. Bandages. Suture thread. Surprising her in the computer room, her bag near-full and waiting at her feet might not go so well, even if she's making frustrated little noises everytime the computer chimes an ACCESS DENIED at her. Notably, the knife is no longer in her hand. A gun sits on the table next to her left.

What the hell happened on July 3rd? ]

[usavatar]

[Steve hears the chiming of the computer, the sounds of displeasure, and follows them back to their source. He eases the door to the occupied room open as quietly as he can, shield raised and ready in case he has to take sudden defensive action.

He blinks.

That... sure is an outfit. She looks a bit like a frogman with gear that's too small.]

I'm going to take a wild guess that thing doesn't belong to you. [That thing being the machine that won't let her in.]

John-117 | OTA

[untodawn]

[ The compact mirror rests in the palm of his hand; when closed it was small, round and ignore it being made from pink plastic the weight of it almost made John think of a half dollar coin. He could accidently break in his hand if he slapped it too tightly in his grip. For whatever reason, John kept it along with the thick sheet of sketch pad paper folder up and tucked away safely inside the compact.

Much of what happened between when he was last on the Infinity and when he had woken up here raised several questions John did not ask.

Instead, he pushed up off the ground (if he tried to sit on the bed again - it would have snapped in two) and walked out into the hall. 'Patrolled' would have been a more accurate work for the long, methodical steps he took that doubled the length of what an average man's' stride would take. Heavy footfalls and massive frame swallowing up the space in the narrow corridor. It was a wonder he didn't have to keep his head down just to clear the hall.

There is sign that beats erratically with failing electricity that reads MEDICAL BAY, and he means to get there. ]

[mucked]

[ her best (her only) weapon is a dark, unpatterned umbrella. and so when she -- standing a few room lengths' away in the same hall -- sees a hulking shape fill the corridor's vanishing point, she raises that umbrella as confidently as she could. tip tilted up at a jaunty, defensive angle.

understandably, they might all be a bit...on edge. and if she distrusts the sudden beast of a frame in the distance, then it's only because every last instinct within the agent is screaming at her to trust no one. trust nothing.

she doesn't speak. merely stands like a lone sentinel beneath the blinking medical bay sign. and if her stance falters? why, that's only because she realizes (at the last moment) that it might be in her best interest not to threaten alarmingly large and armoured people. ]

Ellie | The Last of Us | OTA/any format

[alonetogether]

The weather is wrong. She's barely explored enough to raid the food storage and living areas, finding a backpack and filling it with supplies, before she has to strip off her coat and sweatshirt and knot both around her waist.

DO NOT GO OUTSIDE WITHOUT A GUN AND WATER, the doors say.

No shit.

Too bad the psychotic motherfucking cannibals took all her stuff. All she has is her switchblade and the desire to use it on anyone who shows up unexpectedly.

All she has, at least until she makes it to the shooting range. She takes every gun she can carry, every half-filled pack of ammo she can stuff into her pockets and backpack, and sneaks quietly toward the gate feeling far better about her prospects.

Maybe Hollows is where she left Joel, maybe not, but either way she has to get as far from these motherfuckers as she can before she goes back to him.

She is going back to him.

[untodawn]

[ Paradoxically, in full MJOLNIR - John was a ghost. Towering at over two meters in height with the suits weight reaching a staggering weight that tipped the scales at nearly half a ton, but in that dusty emerald colored veritable tank of a suit John could move through a room like a sharp breeze. ]

Wait.

[ When he moves to cut the girl off at the gate out in the yard in the compound he's a hulking mass taking strides walking towards her at the speed anyone else couldn't pace with at a full tilt run until he's looming right over her. John is unarmed only in the sense he isn't carrying anything with a trigger, but there is nothing immediately threatening in how he has one hand out. Signaling her not to do what he believes she intends. ]

Rikki Barnes | OTA

[withoutaworld]

"This can not be happening again," Rikki mutters under her breath as she walks slowly down the hall, trying hard to keep her footsteps light and quiet... though it's not easy in vibranium-soled boots that make a soft ringing sound with every footfall. At least she's still got her uniform - blue and gold, vaguely military, though it doesn't match any military in any world - her goggles and all her weapons. Things could be worse.

She's also cradling a small puppy in one arm. A puppy that happens to be purple. She doesn't know either, but she wasn't just going to leave it where she woke up.

When she reaches the door, she stops for a moment, staring at the message uneasily. It's dry, when she brushes a hand over it - whoever left it probably isn't still here, and she doesn't want to examine too closely what the rusty flakes the paint leaves on her fingertips are. Grimacing, she brushes it off on her pant leg, pauses a moment, and gently eases the door open so she can poke her head outside.

She keeps the puppy tucked against her left side, where it'll be protected by her shield if it's activated... just in case something lunges at her face. She can't imagine anyone left what seems like a well-stocked compound willingly...

[usavatar]

He sees the girl in the odd outfit just in time to catch her opening the door. And yes, he did plan to explore himself. But he also thinks it's a bad idea for her to go alone, one, and two, the way she's dressed makes her fit in here more comfortably than anyone else he's encountered. It could be that they've all been drawn and left here, but why?

"Hey, hold on." He wishes he had the harness that Howard made him to hold the shield secure against his back. "Excuse me!"

Hopefully she doesn't try to shoot him. His luck has been pretty good on that front so far.

peggy carter | ota | prose or brackets welcome!

[mucked]

-- In the immediate moment following Agent Carter's departure from her strange new quarters (if they can be called that), her first act is to remove her shoes. The well-made kitten heels are simply too loud with every strike they make upon the compound's floor, and she isn't interested in alerting the whole damned place in her every movement. For now, she walks carefully with the backs of her shoes hooked over her fingers. And in her other hand? A long and sinister looking horn, poached from God knows what manner of animal. Certainly none she knows. After an unfortunate mishap with the only other makeshift weapon left to her (a damp umbrella) was ruined, this horn is her one thin defence against...whatever the hell might be outside. Or inside -- after all, what spurs her onwards but the sobs and cries she heard upon waking?

But before she can even begin to consider her sortie, she must do something about this pencil skirt. Something else about the stocking'd feet she now uses to pad her way semi-silently through the corridors. She isn't above sneaking her way into the other small rooms (yours, perhaps?) and rifling through their lockers and beneath their beds. Her own particular brand of looting.

Later, she can be found perched primly on the bed of a military truck. Heeled shoes rather abandoned, she bent to the work tying a pair of more substantial combat boots. A bowie knife sits on the truck-bed beside her, alongside a tightly-tied satchel. Whoever she is, she looks as though she's gearing up for a field trip.

[naturallywavy]

Oi.

_{[ A voice calls out as a silver haired guy stands in the doorway, observing as this girl goes about her business rummaging through his room. Rude? ]}

It's not nice to take people's things without permission.
_{[ Looks like he exited his room for a moment, but now he is back and he didn't expect to see somebody else in there. ]}

The Pyro (RED) | OTA | actionspam preferred

[wplusm1]

[ The first thing Pyro heard was raucous laughter (screaming.) Pyro made it their priority to find out where the laughter was coming from, and then to join them in their frivolity (burn them).

Pyro was no stranger to waking up in strange new places with no explanation; it was the nature of the job. The torn-up cards and paper strip meant nothing to them, so they simply left the items there.

Inventory check time. Pyro was equipped with a flamethrower, flare gun, and a big ol' lollipop (fire axe). Full ammo in the first two and the axe is in good condition.

That done, Pyro slowly opened the door, flamethrower in hand, and began silently walking through the hall. Pray you're not wearing blue if you run into them. ]

prepare to be memed

[ironcurtain]

[If Pyro listens carefully in that suit, they may hear a low sound. Something muffled. A member of its own kind? Some sort of strange beast? Nope, just a faraway voice. As they get closer, it should sound relatively familiar. Loud. Russian. At first it's hard to make out what the voice is saying, but eventually it'll start sounding like "nyet" or no".

Should they enter the room Heavy's currently in, they'll find the large man trying on a series of hats. The current one seems like a football helmet.]

Not bad. But is not even painted. Disappointing.

clarke griffin | the 100 | ota

[omnes]

MEDICAL BAY

[ it isn't the first time that clarke's woken up in an entirely unfamiliar environment with no recollection of how she got here. this looks nothing like the sterile white room of mount weather, but it's still her first association, and it isn't a good one. for a moment, her hands clench into fists, and she has to just breathe and remind herself that she got her people out, that moutn weather is no longer a threat.

( the price had been too high — but she has to bear it. she bears is so they don't have to, and that only works if she actually bears it. so she has to. she can; she's strong enough because she has to be. )

rational thought kicks in a moment later. she isn't restrained. the doors might not be locked. she checks her surroundings first and finds an axe that rmeinds her of bellamy's and some other items. when her gaze falls on the glowing sign saying MEDICAL BAY, she takes another, longer look around. ]

Is anyone here actually hurt?

[ her voice is a little rough; it's been a while since she'd last been around people. but if someone here is hurt, she can help.

and then she can figure out where she is and why she's here. ]

TOP OF THE WALL

[ so far, she's found more questions than answers. the world didn't end on july 3rd, 2015. it's debatable whether the world ended at all because it's survivable again, isn't it?

none of this adds up. none of this makes sense, and there's a feeling of dread coiled tightly in clarke's stomach that hasn't let up since she'd woken up and thought of mount weather. at least there are weapons. at least this is a defensible position. whatever that means, it's something. what it means is probably that whoever built this place knew that there was something or someone out there that might attack, but that's not a surprise.

still, when she catches movement from the corner of her eye, clarke's jaw clenches. there's something out there — and there's someone on the wall with her, and so she turns to them, voice urgent: ] Did you see that?

aaaaaay medical bay

[naturallywavy]

—Does a splitting headache count?
_{[ you a get a response from (1) one not so enthused guy with white, wavy hair. He's perched with his back against one of the walls and has slowly been making his investigation around this place, all the while trying to fight off a horrible hangover that is nothing but his own fault. Gintoki stretches his arms in the air before dropping his temple into one of his hands, rubbing there lightly. ]}

Damn. It's an inconvenience.
_{[ what is??? he doesn't go into detail about it. But to his knowledge, everybody who he has seen seems to be okay. ]}

Gintoki Sakata | silver balls | OTA/any format.. there's also vomit in this post jsyk

[naturallywavy]

<sub>[ The only thing worse than waking up in a zombie apocalypse is waking up in a zombie apocalypse with a hangover. He's dealt with zombies before— he's got this— but the fact that his head was splitting and his stomach was churning didn't help it.
As Gintoki's eyes open, they stare blearily at the little light above him and instantly an inward monologue starts:
"Oi, oiii, did I forget to pay the light bill? Did that old hag cut our electricity? Ah-- my head hurts, I just want to sleep--"

His eyes will shut again. But then:
"I know I paid the electricity bill, I know I did. Hey, Patsuan was there when I paid it. He's my witness, she can't do this-- ah damn, my head feels like it's going to split open. Maybe I should—"
get up. Yeah, maybe you should. And he does, slowly, but steadily and takes a look around the room. This wasn't his room? This wasn't his place of living. Slowly, he blinks, red eyes skirting off and surveying the area as he gives the room the most unimpressed look, taking it all in aaaaand:

no reaction whatsoever.

Gintoki does venture about his little room, and he finds his bokuto and what appears to be a little mo-ped of his. That was really nice to still have with him. But first, he needs to discover what this place is and.. hopefully find the people who are close to him. Once he has finished finding his items with the addition of a bright red wig ( ??? ) he makes his way outside. Nevertheless, the monologue continues:

"It needs more color. Are we running on a low budget again? Let the kindergarteners color the background, hey, we gotta go to the hot springs today. Is that what this is? And oi, such a clever opening! Gin-san wakes up with a hangover, like hell we've never done that before. Give it a rest for a change. I'm going to puke, I know I'm going to puke--" ]</sub>

I'm going to puke.

_{[ and he does: right then in and there in the middle of the hallway. Hopefully you're not standing there. ]}

1/2

[unoradinary]

[Hey is that dude oka-]

Bruce Wayne | Dark Knight Trilogy | OTA

[knightbynight]

Bruce wakes with a splitting headache, and a foggy memory. Neither one does his mood any more favors than the sound of leathery wings or the disorientation of waking up in a new place. The dim light, however, is welcome. He takes stock of his own belongings and the other things that in the room with him that he doesn't recognize.

The map, apparently a toy, is folded and tucked into his shirt pocket before he closes the door behind him. Everything else is left behind. The kevlar armor and cowl are especially left behind. He won't forget where his room is; he doesn't forget anything unless drugs or a hard knock to the head are involved.

He walks quickly, and quietly. He takes in the shape of the place, sticks his head through doorways. He spends time investigating the medical bay, the kitchen, and any other common area he can find. He catalogues supplies, but unless he finds someone in those places he isn't going to linger. He'll visit the computer banks and the laboratories for more in depth investigation later.

His priority, his goal, and his mission is the door outside. When he finds them he pauses in front of the sign, and snorts. Gun? No. Water and weaponry of some sort he does retrieve. Then he goes outside, finds the ladder surrounding the wall and climbs. He needs a vantage point that provides him with a view of the land this compound is on. It's important to complete his mental map.

Important enough to have him out there without a gun, but with a lead pipe, a bottle of water and still not nearly as defenseless as he appears. Possibly more stupid, though - who carries explosives around in their pockets?

When someone else emerges and heads for the wall he pivots, turns immediately but not slightly. He won't turn his back on the world outside that wall. "The view's lousy." He sounds conversational. He isn't really.


[OOC: interrupt him anywhere, if you want him before he gets to the wall]

[debts]

"I bet."

The voice sounds wry, unbothered, matching a sliver of his brand of conversational for her brand of disinterested. Natasha cuts an interesting shape up on the wall; her hair's short, but she's also still in a catsuit. She has a medical bag slung over one shoulder, zipped up in a way that suggests it's full of basically anything other than the pre-arranged supplies it's supposed to stock. The light catches a little on the chrome rim of her hourglass buckle when she turns.

There's the affectation of something casual in her spine. One hand cupped over her eyes, she tucks her gun back into the holster around her right thigh and presses her lips together. "Tell me you see a Chipotle."

The tone of her voice? Just about as dry as the Sahara.

Superman | OTA

[borntochoose]

The first thing Clark notices is that he's on the Superman costume.

Which is probably good because soon he's flying up and down the compound, his feet barely touching the ground as he tries to make sense of it all. Of what he heard, of how he got here, of the files that he's kept hidden and as safe as he could because he isn't sure who he is supposed to trust in this place. His first instinct is to trust everyone because they are holed up in this place together, so he tried to make small chat here and there- name, what they remembered, what they heard upon waking... There's a clue to be found, he's sure of it , he just can't figure out what the right questions to ask are yet. But that's fine, he has time and he's always been good at that. Still, he doesn't stay still for more than a couple of minutes, all over the place . Some might find a familiar face in him, but he doesn't recognize anyone.

The next thing he does is et out of the compound. Not the door, of course (He's no that dumb), but once he gets to the top it's easy for him to just fly and check around and yep those are definitely zombies. An alien facing zombies and he'd laugh if it he didn't think the laughter would come out all hysterical rather than amused. He can't be sure if he's immune and he's too further away to actually take a look at them, so he let's it go. For now.

So next, is survival. Food, water. And getting those, while not exactly easy with so many people around, is weirdly reassuring in the sense that HES still doing something minimally useful. So soon he's got a rather nice pile of all the food he manages to find ready. It's not much but it's something, and he'll even share with anyone that looks like they could use it.

[alonetogether]

There's a figure stealing along in the shadow of the wall, trying to get her bearings. Rikki and the giant robot dude notwithstanding, Ellie has Things to Do. These things don't include being roped in to whatever mess these people are floundering their way through. Her life is complicated enough.

She can see things moving in distance, blurry shapes that seem aimless from where she's standing, which tells her going straight north is probably stupid. She'll lose time getting to that Hollows place, but it's better than getting ripped to pieces. Immunity only does so much.

West, then north. Maybe she can find cover before the change.

wanda maximoff | mcu | ota

[allages]

[ she finds a puzzle about worms next to the bed in which she wakes up. one of the pieces is bloody, but wanda pays it little attention because she's also found a newspaper clipping with a picture of her brother and herself. she doesn't remember the picture being taken, but that does not matter. pietro is alive in it, and he isn't anymore.

( later, she'll find that someone's written THE WORLD ENDED JULY 3RD, 2015. on a wall, and it'll make her lips twist into a bitter smile, because her world ended the moment her brother died — )

there is someone else around, and wanda turns onto them. there is nothing scared in her voice or in her body language. there is anger, and there is confidence. ] Tell me everything that you know about where I am. [ a beat, and her eyes narrow. ] I'll know if you're lying.

[ her brother is dead, but someone still took her from where she'd been and brought her here, and she has no memory of it. maybe she shouldn't have trusted the avengers — but no. tony stark is not to blame for this, no matter what else his crimes. ]

[prepper]

[ pepper is slightly taken aback by the tone in which she's spoken to, but she supposes that she's not the only person here who has questions and is less than pleased by the circumstances. you work in a company like stark industries long enough, you get kind of used to the emotions that people fling at you. the young woman seems familiar, oddly enough, but right now, pepper can't quite place her. it's lost somewhere amongst hazes of unclear news footage and general chaos, and too many thoughts about what this place might be. she shrugs, her brow furrowing a little. ]

I'm as clueless as you are. [ she glances down at her chest, the acronym emblazoned across her found t-shirt. ] Guess this makes me look like I might know something, but I just found it on my bed.

[ how would she know if pepper was lying, anyway? no one's that perceptive, surely. pepper might be a great liar, for all this girl knows. except, of course, pepper is an atrocious liar, but still. ]

steph brown | dcu | ota | prose or action is fine!!

[controlledvariable]

a; the compound

[Steph wakes with a startled gasp, scrambling to her feet with the expectation of pain after having… fallen.]

Wh--

[Except she's on her feet with a bed beside her, and she clearly didn't fall that far considering she can see a ceiling when she looks up. She's sure she heard it, though, that familiar rush of wind that means gravity has beat her again, but while her first thought is that she was dreaming, well-- She's in her Batgirl suit, and she never falls asleep wearing that.

Was she knocked out?

Her fingers reach up to test her skull, feeling for any tenderness that would indicate a blow to the head, but even under her cowl, there's nothing. The more seconds that pass, the longer an unsettled feeling makes it home in her stomach, the hair on the back of her neck standing up as it registers just how wrong this whole situation is.]

Okay, Batgirl, you've got this.

[She taps her comm line, but it's completely dead, something that she finds doesn't surprise her, considering she's in some sort of bunker, with a bed beside her and a locker underneath, nothing of which is familiar to home. So she's been kidnapped, fine, she can handle it.

Checking the bed, her heart leaps into her throat when she sees a bloodied batarang, and with shaking hands she pulls an evidence bag from her utility belt to seal the batarang away. There's nothing she can do with it now, but once she gets away, she can find out who's blood it is. After that, she checks the locker, finding a map (Earth, though there are a few differences that she makes a note to investigate later) and a compass.

When she finds nothing else of interest in the room, Steph packs up the compass and map, flicks out her bo staff for safety's sake, then heads out into the corridors.

Occasionally, she keeps checking her comm line for any response, going through different frequencies, but it's dead silence and that worries her more than the kidnapping itself. Either signals are blocked in this place, or something worse is going on.

There's something to be said for caution, which is the only reason that she doesn't check the locked doors, in case there's something dangerous lurking behind them, or if it's a trap of some kind. She doesn't want to risk it, not yet, and her focus is finding a way out anyway.

Until she hears someone, or something, moving nearby, and Steph comes to a halt, adjusting her grip on her staff.]

I gotta admit, this isn't the sorta game of hide and seek I usually sign up for.

[If it's someone responsible for her predicament, well, maybe the flippancy will lure them into a false sense of security. And if it's someone else in the same situation, she wants to make sure she sounds friendly enough.

This is going to be interesting day.]

b: the hollows

[The sign at the doors is (mostly) ignored; Steph has no interest in guns, but she has plenty of water, and makes a point to double check her utility belt before scaling the fence and dropping down to the other side.

She needs to figure out what happened to this place.

The trip there seems to go relatively well, and the first few houses she checks out are….

Well, the bodies are checked for signs of death, and one suicide and one blunt trauma death aren't promising, especially when neither give an answer to what happened, instead just leaving Steph feeling like someone's ramped her paranoia up to eleven. She isn't much for stealing, but if there's anything in the houses that looks useful, especially medical supplies, she'll likely pocket it. More importantly, though, she's searching for journals, notes, recordings; anything that might explain what happened.

Stepping outside again, the sound of groaning and shuffling draws her attention, and Steph cautiously follows it to the source.

A zombie.]

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

[The "no killing" rules never covered zombies. She isn't sure what to do.]

B!!

[alonetogether]

[Ellie doesn't see Steph. She does see the zombie. It looks wrong. There's no traces of fungus, no bubbles of cordyceps breaking the skin.

And for some fucking reason it doesn't die when she jumps on its back and cuts its throat open.]

Shit!

fliss cousland ( dragon age — ota, prose or brackets fine! )

[rondels]

— in the compound

[ it's not the best sound to wake up to. the murmur of a voice that puts exactly into words the things she thinks about whenever she has a spare moment, the thoughts that creep in unwelcome through the back door of her mind. why does anyone keep trying? why does she? the world was so full of awful things before the darkspawn, maybe it's time to give it up and let everything crumble the way it should, the way it deserves to.

her parents would be so disappointed if they knew she thought like that, sometimes. she can imagine her father's expression too clearly. from time to time it is very difficult to say that there's anything other than their memory that keeps her going.

a familiar, smooth tongue is licking at her hand when she wakes. oskar whines, plaintively, before rumbling happily when he sees her eyes flicker open. she instinctively shushes his cheerful, enthused barking, petting him between the ears as she blearily gathers her bearings. this... is not the camp. for one thing, she is on what seems to be an actual bed, as strangely constructed as it is, and not her sleeping mat, and around her is very definitely a room rather than a tent. one full of people and trinkets of all sorts with which she is note even remotely familiar. she shifts to sit, and something presses into her leg, beneath the bed sheets — a key? not like any key she's ever seen, but recognisable enough. what it belongs to, she doesn't know.

she doesn't linger in the room for too long, quietly calling oskar to follow her as slips out, away from all these strangers, only to find more in the corridors. she is pleased enough to find that she still has some of her belongings, her clothing, and of course oskar, along with this odd little vial of what is supposedly poison. something else she's familiar with, at the very least. she pockets it, operating on the very sharp sensation that she's going to need it, at some point or other.

everyone here is dressed so strangely, so differently. everywhere fliss turns, she finds more rooms, more corridors, and navigating is proving difficult. everything looks the same. to passing individuals, her expression may seem a little blank, but bordering on terrified. running on fumes, on the idea that movement is somehow survival. she keeps pinching her wrist, every so often, trying to rouse herself from this uncomfortable dream that is proving itself to be far too real.

eventually, she finds herself fingering the key and inspecting it at greater length, wondering what it could possibly belong to. she stops in front of an unmarked door, looking between it and the key in her hands several times, wondering whether to try and find out where the silly little thing belongs to. nothing else remotely productive or useful seems to be on the agenda right now, in any case. ]

— by the weapons shed

[ the absence of her knives had unnerved fliss somewhat, particularly when she had found the sign. she doesn't know what guns are, but supposes that gunshots are related to them. and what exactly are they? her explorations of this area have no yet yielded that much information, aside from the general sense that something bad is happening. the walls here are very much made to keep things out, it seems.

the weapons shed, however, is a comforting find, even if fliss finds herself awkwardly hovering outside it for a long moment, glancing around and wondering if anyone would object to her entering. at long last, when the coast seems relatively clear, she hazards a little push of the door, which opens without complaint or difficulty. though she does not directly recognise much of what she finds inside — scarily well stocked, by her personal evaluation — as soon as she spots the distinctly knife shaped weapons that could substitute for her daggers, she feels a faint swelling of warmth. when did she get this way, she wonders? relieved by the sight of weapons rather than cowed by them, exasperated at having to use them once again. biting her lip, she resists the urge to investigate up close, and darts back out of the shed to hail down the first person she sees. ]

Excuse me — sorry to trouble you, but is it known whether we can take items from this shed? [ a little timid, to begin with, but growing a little bolder as she goes on. ] I don't wish to seem as though I'm trying to steal anything, but the contents would likely be useful.

[ ... she's going to take something, even if someone tells her no. that much isn't quite audible in her tone, but damn it, she's not going to wander around this strange place empty handed. oskar, meanwhile, sits like a sentry outside the shed, relatively quiet. subject to change if anyone challenges his mistress, though. ]

weapons!!

[intelligently]

( Lydia had lingered at the weapons shed after Beth had left, eyes moving over everything. She knew that Allison's father had been a weapons dealer as well as a hunter, and even though she hadn't seen much she guessed that that meant they'd had a lot of weapons. Enough to hunt with.

Seeing everything in the shed was different, and with the unease she already felt from being in an unusual place - from seeing the warning sign, seeing what was in the shed didn't make her feel any better. There was so much - guns, knives and boxes labelled with ammunition. Enough for someone to easily get hurt.

It took a few seconds for Lydia to turn after the question was asked, words slow, uncertain )

I don't know. ( The contents would likely be useful. Useful for what? What was this place? What were they expected to do ) Someone's already taken some.

( If they were supposed to have a weapon- it was well out of Lydia's comfort zone, and skill set. She'd never used one before, even if she was well versed in archery technique )

jason todd / dc comics / ota / i'll match you!

[antagonize]

[Well. The initial assumption that he's in a burning building aside, exploring his room turns out to be nothing short of a monumental waste of time. He finds nothing of value, because there is no way a bloodied slurpee cup could prove to be helpful in whatever situation this is. The watch could have its uses, but not when he can't even tell what time it currently is.

Which is, you know. Just great.

After exiting the room he initially finds himself in, Jason will take it upon himself to thoroughly explore the area. Characters doing the same thing will find him, with his red helmet on, doing the following things:

A: In the Medical Bay, checking out the supplies, the facilities, and more or less gauging how well equipped this place is for any number of emergencies. He's pleasantly surprised by what he finds, so, uh. Don't mind him. He's just going to take the opportunity to stuff his pockets with some essentials. Nothing that would significantly diminish the supplies, but enough for one or two persons. Not that it makes him look like any less of a hoarder, anyway.

B: In the hallways, checking out whatever doors he can open and making a valiant attempt to open those he can't. The food storage and laboratory also get an extensive look over from him, but it's not like he's going to carry snacks around at the moment, so he leaves most things where he finds them. There's a nice stock of supplies in the laboratory, though, and he's totally making a mental list of what they have and what he can make with that. Thank you, Talia's wallet, for helping him learn how to poison the heck out of people.

C: The messages on the front door go... more or less ignored. Ignored, but not forgotten, because he can't make much sense of them right now with what little information there is. For now, he'll occupy himself with checking the outside of the compound. That means he'll be taking his sweet time checking out the shed and the shooting range. This also extends to the architecture of the compound itself, which he will be sizing up like a weirdo.

D: Lastly, he can also be found standing on top of the wall, studying the geography and trying to figure out what the hell happened here and who, exactly, is going to be attracted by gunshots. Don't worry if you yell or sneak up on him. He probably won't fall.]

the wall

[untodawn]

[ John is pacing and calling it patrolling the wall. Nervousness wasn't something that came on strongly enough to cloud his judgement, but he was familiar enough with irritation at dropping in on an unfamiliar place with vague intel and nothing but what he carried in. The MA5D assault rifle held at a shoulder ready carry and the sidearm was all he had on him, and has he quickly learned once he exhausted the ammunition on both of them he was SOL until he familiarized himself with the antiquated weapons floating around the compound; unguarded, he remembered with a hint of disapproval.

He was the biggest thing patrolling that wall, looking out over the low ledge at movement he couldn't track from this distance. When he first crossed Jason's path, he didn't even acknowledge him right away. To fixated on what was beyond the borders of the fence. ]

pietro maximoff | ota

[expeditiously]

[He grew up in a troubled country. This isn't the first time that Pietro opens his eyes to the sound of gunfire. He sits up quickly, eyes going to the nearest door, looking for someone or something to burst through it. He's more unsettled by the heavy silence that follows when the sound stops.

The question of where is answered by the glowing sign, or so Pietro thinks, because it makes sense that he would be waking in the medical bay. But where there should be bandages, there are only bullet holes in the same bloodstained shirt that he hit the dirt in. He pokes a finger through one, but that's where the hole stops. His flesh is mended. There's no pain, none except-]

My sister.

[Wanda is not there, and now there's fear. Pietro pushes through the doors, but pauses long enough to read the message scrawled on another.]

Why tell us to not go outside without a gun if the sound of using one is also what draws trouble?

[It makes no sense to him. Pietro tilts his head at the words before shrugging and pushing open the door. He's only giving the compound a quick look around before he heads beyond it, going slow at first to make sure he misses nothing.]

[usavatar]

[Steve is just outside the gate, studying distant movement through the heat haze. It's no easier to see what it is from the top of the wall - he checked. He's still carrying his unpainted shield, though he shed his dress tunic and tie back in the room where he woke up. With his drab olive shirtsleeves rolled up, the heat is more bearable.

He's very much considering putting a small team together to see what Hollows is, and whether or not it provides more answers than they're getting at the compound.

Peggy, Natasha. Who else can he ask? Peggy is the only one whose background he actually knows.

He sighs and rubs one temple with a thumb-knuckle. Don't think about the personal stuff. Focus on the task.]

ollie stallworth | original | prose or action is fine!

[sigillum]

a: @god: why
[Ollie wakes slowly at first, rolling over in the bed and trying to kick the blankets off where they're tangled around her legs. Except the sound of a voice, something about sickness, has her wide awake and on her feet in seconds.

Aside from the part where there's wire wrapped around her legs, so she ends up on the floor, scrabbling to get the wire off her before she bolts out of the room. The sensible part of her is saying she should stop and take stock of the situation, but the sixteen year old girl who spent years in a cage is terrified that she's been taken again, and needs to find her way out as soon as possible.

Everything in the room is left behind as Ollie tries to find an exit, shoving against doors and practically growling when some don't open, before she leaves them to try another door or stairwell.

Someone might want to stop her before she finds a way outside and ends up as zombie food.]

b: this is fine.jpg

[Once Ollie has calmed down a little, she sets to work.

Apparently there's something dangerous outside, which means those inside need to be protected, and that's something she can do. It's a little scary, to practice so openly, but it seems as if no one here truly cares, and despie the military appearance of the place, she can tell this isn't her government.

She can be found with either chalk, a knife, or charcoal in her hand, drawing and carving symbols into the walls and windows. They're all for protecting, half of them sigils she's made up herself over the years, combing what she knows into something stronger, something better. Most of them are enough on their own, but occasionally she can be seen pricking a thumb or finger with her knife, to seal the symbols with a little bit of blood.

Later, she sets herself up in the kitchen to go through her supplies.

There are all sorts of things laid out on the countertops; bones, plants, ash, crystals, and some things that are probably best left to the imagination. She has a lot, but it's all raw ingredients, so she hauls out a saucepan (not a cauldron, but it'll do) and starts combining them to make god knows what.

She isn't wandering around this place unprotected.]

a

[rondels]

[ still mulling over why she's been provided with poison and what door this key might open, fliss is almost (almost) oblivious to the girl very suddenly leading an assault on some nearby doors. there's only a moment that passes between the realisation and an impulse to stop her — help her. by this point, fliss has seen experienced enough in her life, lived it a certain way, that has taught her to internalise her fear, and not everyone could do that, could they? experiences shape and mould everyone individually, and sometimes they don't leave any room for trying to come to grips with your situation calmly. ]

Ah — young lady, are you quite all right? [ the worst phrase of them all, asking if someone's all right when clearly they're not, but it tumbles from fliss' mouth before she can stop it, and she winces a little for the fact. ] Please, I do not think you're in any danger here...

[ not willing to crowd her, fliss keeps a distance, but tries to raise her hands, placating, but she's not entirely sure if it will work. the fear of others is something she knows in terms of being able to associate it with a visible threat, and being able to take down that threat in order to calm them. this? she's not sure how to handle this, but instinctively, she worries for the girl anyway. ]

clint barton | marvel 616 | ota!

[conversed]

A | COMPOUND

[ Waking up to a bunch of pained groaning isn't new, sadly. Waking up in a strange room, also not new. Clint doesn't jump awake; he just lets out a tired groan of his own and drags a hand over his face, and it isn't until something else interrupts — a warm tongue?? — that he really snaps to it. ]

Hey. Hey—

[ Lucky. The dog lets out a small whine as he gently bats him away, then Clint finally sits up and takes in the details. Clothes on. Chinese food… moldy. No weapons. He drags himself to his feet and wanders over to the door, still a little bleary, and as soon as he opens it Lucky bolts out and down the hall. ]

Hey!

[ The dog — some kind of lab mix, missing an eye — doesn't stop, though he does nearly bowl into whoever happens to be a few yards down the corridor. ]

B | COMPUTERS, KITCHENS, SHOOTING RANGE

[ He can't find Lucky. Obviously. Clint eventually doubles back to his room to finish snooping around, and when he heads out to explore the rest of the compound, he's got a folder unceremoniously crumpled up and jammed into one of his back pockets.

He wastes some time in front of the rows of computer screens without successfully guessing the password (not admin or password or 42, go figure). Finds the kitchens and starts digging around in the cupboards like he owns the place, looking for something specific.

By the time he gets outside, it's midday. Stops mid-step when he spots the shooting range, and a few minutes later he's got a bow and some arrows. Draws to test it out, aiming at a worn target. Back muscles tighten and lock, slow your breathing, exhale—

Someone's close. He relaxes his hand and the arrow lodges itself in the target, then he lowers the bow before glancing over. ]

Sorry. Did you say something?

A

[prepper]

[ it's a good thing pepper likes dogs. smaller ones, usually, in fairness, but a dog's a dog, and this one's got no bad intentions, it seems, even when it almost mows her over. she makes a slight noise of surprise, a slightly staccato woah, but aside from that, stays upright and manages to stop the dog from going much further. probably not the time to be thinking it's a good thing i'm not wearing a cream skirt anymore, as she pats him lightly on the head. usually she'd ask for permission to do so, with a stranger's dog, but she thinks she can get a pass this time, what with the good natured almost knocking over and what have you. ]

Hey, now, I don't think you're headed where you're supposed to.

[ she angles a smile up at the man who opened the door, showing that she is unruffled by the interception. she didn't think anyone would have any dogs with them here, but you know. not the strangest thing about this place, yet. ]

Is he yours?

rin tohsaka | ota

[harshwords]

[ This was not her usual bedroom, nor was it a familiar place in the slightest. When she opens her eyes, she finds herself running her slender fingers through her coarse black hair. She's in her casual clothes- thankfully- rather wary of her surroundings.

But then she hears the footsteps.

She instinctively raises her hand, but doesn't allow the Magic Crest to glow as she opens the door and yells out a single question: ]

Who's there?

[unoradinary]

[...okaaaaay.

In all honesty, the girl standing outside that Rin's opened the door to doesn't seem all that threatened by an empty hand, just confused at her, uh, method there...but it's better to answer her first.]

The name's Ranmaru. Who're you?

Kamala Khan | OTA

[embiggened]

[Video games are awesome. But part of what makes them awesome is the fact that they're games and just because she owns every copy of Zombie City doesn't mean that she actually ever wanted to live out a level like this in real life.

Because it's creepy. Too creepy. And she doesn't even remember how she got here. She'd just gone to bed after a surprisingly quiet night and now woke up here. She's seen enough movies to guess this is a military base. Things always go bad on spaceships and military bases. See? There were totally important things that she learned from watching too much TV. If only Ammi could appreciate her mad skills.

Kamala has changed into her Ms. Marvel uniform- a dark blue leotard over red leggings, a red scarf, and a lightning bolt emblazoned on her chest. Just like Carol Danvers. The mask probably isn't much use in the dark but it's an important part of the ensemble. She's thankful that she had it in her backpack near her bed. It certainly offers no extra protection but wearing it always makes her feel just a bit braver. Stepping out into the hall just outside the medical bay and she winces at the flickering light in the sign.]

This is totally horror ambiance 101. If something's gonna jump out at me... just do it.

Outside-The Fence

[So the world is over. Before it even started because she's pretty sure it wasn't July 3rd yet when she left. Ominous, really ominous.

So here she is. The edge of the compound. Time to take a look-see. Concentrating, she wills her legs to grow and raise herself up until she is able to peek over the edge. With baited breath leans forward and sees... nothing. Everything is quiet. Abandoned. Until... something movies.]

Ah!

[Kamala stumbles back. But nothing jumps out at her or anything like that. When she scoots back to the ledge everything is still once more. Still and completely unfamiliar.]

Toto, I don't think we're in Jersey anymore.

hi have a dog tag, clint tba

[conversed]

[ Did you say Toto? Because you're getting a different dog, snuffling around at your feet and possibly wondering, as much as a dog is able, why your feet are so far away from the rest of you.

After a second of that, he sits back on his haunches and stares up at her — way up — head tilted. It might just be the fact that he has one eye, but somehow he looks deeply skeptical. ]

charlie the fucking dinosaur

[raptorminor]

[There is a lot of confusion. Sure, velociraptors might be one of the smartest dinosaurs around, but plop one in a completely new situation, and things are going to take a while to get figured out.

All she can hear is a people. A young people making sad noises. Why is young people sad? Scared? Where is scaredsad young people?

Charlie snorts herself awake, falling with an undignified squawk out of the bed someone decided to put a fucking velociraptor on. Hey, it's a soft nest, but nests are also usually on the ground, assholes. She gets to her feet and strikes a defensive pose, but...there's nothing here. Not that she can initially sense. And the crying child sound has apparently stopped. She sniffs the air, taking account. There's food! Food food food, under the bed, she snorts again and cranes her neck to fit her head under there and draaaag out a bloody box of raw meat. Which she happily snacks on. For a few bites.

The rest she should save. Some of it should be for Blue. Where is Blue? Where is pack? Nothing is familiar, and she doesn't like it. Charlie taps her claws in agitation before poking around the soft nest she fell from. There's a sketchbook, not that she knows what that is, filled with scribbles, not that she knows what those are, of little cartoons. They would be cute if she had the capacity to understand what she's looking at. As it is, she smears a little blood on the pages that are open when she nudges it, and when it doesn't do anything interesting, she moves on, a slow circle around the room.

Where is young people who made sad noises? It alarms her that she doesn't hear it anymore, and the door--she recognizes doors--gives her pause. These are not the original raptors, folks; they never had much chance to learn how to door. Still, give a raptor enough time, and one should be able to work it out. Or she could just push on it with her head and ram into it a couple of times, making cawing help sounds before, after several minutes of nuzzling around it, her snout pushes down on the handle and--it moved! The door! Door moved door open!

And the hallways is a lot of the same. Cold. Metal. Unfamiliar. Well shit.

But she smells other blood. Not the blood of food in her room, which she...is not wholly comfortable leaving there, but what else can she do, but different blood. She takes a few long strides, then lowers her head further to really speed up, tracking it down. She's zeroing in. Only slows as she approaches, and great, there's blood on this wall? But what is it. She definitely doesn't know letters or alphabet or written words.

So, if strange creature sounds from one room didn't get you, or a speeding raptor down the hall in a search doesn't, then you might find her by the front doors, licking curiously at the lettering.

Or outside, if someone opens it for her/she figures out how to front door! Then she'll be making a jog around the perimeter, sniffing at the air, stretching her legs, and being really confused about all the people who are allowed in her pen. (Obviously it's her pen, why else would she be here?) Where is pack?]

[debts]

[ To her credit: Natasha doesn't draw her weapon.

She does, though, stare. Fear that transmutes into something else isn't new — she remembers what it was like, viscerally, how the Hulk had chased her down, how she'd seen him and not-Bruce at the same time. It's an image that sticks.

(Wish you were here.)

A dinosaur licking at a wall isn't quite what she expects. Her hand is on the gun at her thigh, but otherwise Natasha just stares. It's like she's an animal in headlights, though it's not helplessness but some sort of animal blankness in her eyes.

She stares at it. Every line in her body is absolutely still and she just— waits. ]

moira burton | resident evil | ota

[minefield]

[ Moira wakes up to the sound of scratching on the walls, and the first thing she thinks is shit, not again.

This is the second time she's woken up somewhere unfamiliar to the sound of something unusual, strange and discomforting surrounding her. Her crowbar is there, at least, as well as her guns and flash light, so she's pretty damn happy about that. At least she isn't completely without a weapon.

Tucking all else away, she holds her crowbar in her slightly shaking hands, and makes her way out of what seems to be a medical area. There are doors at the end, and she doesn't bother with any others before making her way to them, shining her flashlight at the words to make them clearer in the dimly lit hallway, and has to hold strong in the face of a wave of nausea that hits her at the sight of what the words might be made of, because no matter what she's lived through, the effect never changes.

DO NOT GO OUTSIDE WITHOUT A GUN AND WATER...

And again, all she can think is shit, because this isn't a situation she wanted to end up in, after having just been in one.

(She had just been about to find Barry, about to find her father, and yet... Here she is. In another fucking apocalyptic area, without Claire or Evgeny or her father, and it's fan-fucking-tastic that she would end up by herself again.)

She taps the end of her crowbar against her leg for a moment, before pushing open one of the doors and closing it behind her, looking back for only a second to see the words printed on there, too. They mimic the words on the other side, and are just as helpful in the information they hand her, because at least she knows now she isn't on the Overseer's island, despite the constantly red bracelet that still rests on her wrist.

And fuck. This is a world-wide thing, not just an island-only one. Even better.

It's only when she hears someone else walking, footsteps sounding eerily terrifying in the current world she's stuck in, that she spins around and throws her makeshift weapon up, ready to brain whoever it is approaching because of course it would be a zombie, knowing her luck.

Except it isn't. And Moira doesn't know if she should be happy or not. ]

Woah, shit, sorry! You surprised me— [ then she pauses, looking unhappy and unsure, before speaking again. ] Hey, do you have any idea what the fuck is going on here?!

[harshwords]

[ She takes a step back when Moira speaks, raising her hands to show that she has nothing on her. Tohsaka Rin is completely defenseless in every single way - at least, outwardly - and means absolutely no harm. It seems that most of the people she's ran into seem to be in the same spot as her.

Strange. ]

No, it's fine. [ Her voice is airy and light, and she's being as polite as possible as she shakes her head, trying her best to keep her cool with a somewhat melancholic smile. ] And I apologize, but I'm just as clueless as you are. I've seen the signs around here, but I don't understand a thing.

peter maximoff | x-men | ota

[kleptos]

[ Peter spends about an hour after waking up staring at the plush he's been left with, after he gets away from the noise of nails being scraped down a chalk board (which is a great thing to start with, obviously, and really leaves a good impression for what's going to happen in the rest of the day).

It's a tiny plush of a man wearing all purple, and it looks like that metal guy - Magneto - did when he was making his speech on the TV when he was trying to kill the President. Except older, an old man version of Erik Lehnsherr, and why the fuck has he been given this? What use could a Magneto plush provide him with?

The speedster doesn't know, but still keeps it with him when he exits the medbay, completely ignoring the signs posted on the doors and makes his way to the fences surrounding the area instead, all within seconds. There's nothing out there, nothing that will tell him what's going on, but this definitely doesn't seem like the cute little suburbs he's used to living in and stealing from.

He speeds around again, ends up back where he started by the doors, and frowns. Now he's actually looking at the sign left, and wow, that's pretty intense. He doesn't quite know what it means by the world ending, because that could mean a lot of things, but one thing he knows for absolutely sure is that he doesn't want to know what it is just yet. Though he's happy to see it in films and games, the world ending just isn't a comforting thought.

(Where are his sisters, his mother, those guys he helped break into prison--?)

So he runs, until he finally sees someone, and almost falls over in his haste to stop next to them, slowing down so dramatically that even with how used he is to stopping suddenly, crashing seems inevitable. ]

Hey, did you see the sign on the doors over there? What do you think it means by the world ending? Have you seen anyone else around here? Are we the only ones? That would be insane. [ He pauses for only a small breath before speaking again. ] So?

[harshwords]

I saw it, but— [ There's a pause, and slight disbelief in her tone as she places her hands on her hips, straightening herself out. The sign doesn't make any sense to her. How could it? ] —how is it possible that it's 2015? It was just 2005, last I recall.

[ She doesn't expect the Second Magic to be in play here. Only a strong magician would be able to pull such a feat, and even then it wouldn't make any sense. ]