|
Post by Grace Devereux on Apr 7, 2009 13:51:00 GMT -5
It was hell sleeping out in the cold. Though, Grace didn’t know anything but Hell. She’d seen hellish things in this world and some of it didn’t even make her flinch. Some of it was just normal sightings that she would see daily. Her skin shook, though, as she laid in the back of a car outside of the hotel that it seemed evil didn’t touch. The person was right when they said that California was someplace safe. Someplace where evil didn’t touch it as much. Sure, in LA the streets were completely full of evil, but places like this hotel and around it, it seemed as though evil didn’t touch it. Okay, so maybe at night it might be different. How amazing that it was night now. Joy. She didn’t have enough money for a room and she didn’t want to be one of those people begging for money either. But there was a car that looked completely trashed. That’s where she was sleeping tonight. There was a strange smell in the front seats, so she avoided those, but she laid in the back, curled up in a ball for warmth. Her coat had been lost in Arizona and she didn’t have money to buy another one. As of now, she wished she would have lifted one from one of the abandoned stores.
As she laid in the back, she thought of where she was a while ago. Her past. Well, at least what she remembered from when she woke up. She had been a patient at an insane asylum. As she thought of this, she played with the plastic band around her wrist, showing her name and that she was stationed at Chrondilae. Sure, if any normal person would have seen it, they would question why she was wearing it and they would probably be afraid of her. An escaped mental patient? Yeah, that would be a great person to tango with. A few people she had ran into had run the opposite way, thinking that she was going to chew on their bones and watch their blood run or something. When she thought of that place, the first place she remembered, she thought of some strange things. One thought that came to mind was the fact that her memory was gone. She didn’t remember if she was insane. Or if she was, what disorder did she have? What was wrong with her mind? The scariest question of all… if her memory came back, would the insanity seep through once more?
She shuddered at that thought and curled up into a tighter ball as a breeze came through the broken window in the car. Who knew California could have weather? She smirked at that thought and kept curled up. Grace kept playing with her plastic bracelet and closed her eyes, trying to push her thoughts away. She was in California and she could start over. Maybe she’d be safe. Something fluttered outside and her eyes shot open, her body freezing, not breathing. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t be safe.
|
|
|
Post by Elliott Page on Apr 9, 2009 13:10:03 GMT -5
Elliott was on his usual nightly prowl. He had been rescuing people over the past few months, since he’d been in America in between searching for his auntie, his only living and conveniently magical relative. He had gathered an estimated 30 people into the abandoned shopping mall, from all walks of life, singletons and families, old and young, male and female, black and white, religious and non-religious, native and foreign. If this disaster had taught Elliott nothing else, except pain, it was the strength and unity of people, and how community, social responsibility would always stand strong, always fight through, always prevail, even when put in such extreme circumstances, in fact especially when put in extreme circumstances.
As he walked the abandoned streets, looking for members, hoping to build an army of some sort, he liked to allow small bursts of magic to leave his person, in a sort of practise. It was like exercising and in the past few months Elliott had started to bulge with magical muscle. His time and practise was a strict regime, like never before, and the abandoned mall allowed for a perfect training space. As well as that, his physical training had increased. His endurance was well up and with designer clothes at the ready he still managed to look good, hell on earth and all.
Noticing a girl in a car, he approached, hesitating for a moment as he realised the situation could be intimidating. He still had a few screw looses but he was always getting better, and he had been speaking in full sentences the past few weeks, which was better than panicked shouts.
He tapped on the window lightly three times before standing back and speaking, always shifting his vision to be cautious and weary of potential danger. “Miss, are you ok?”
|
|