capeandcowllogs | of those blackholes & revelations

of those blackholes & revelations

WHO: All imPorts.
WHERE: Atropos.
WHEN: January 7th to January 14th.
WARNINGS: Death and destruction.
SUMMARY: Atropos has risen in the night, and the inevitable has come: with her jaws she shears away the City from Earth and swallows it whole.

But the City is not yet dead.
FORMAT: Whatever you please.

The formless mass of metal haunting above, hovering like a lunar tombstone, begins to take shape. Asteroids plummet into the cheeks, the eyes, carving out bone structure. Her features howl with fury, with triumph, as she stares down below, savoring her conquest. A cavity opens. Metal swoops to form jagged, angry shears. Her teeth are born.

She waits as the world rotates, its spin more wobbly than it used to be.

And then she leans down to feast, her bite vampiric. She takes the City and then some, and all that it encompasses, so that every single imPort is captured. She takes the time to drink in any stragglers, any imPorts elusive to the City's thrall.

She holds the City on her tongue as she draws back her fist to punch the world.

And then teeth close to the shuddering, glass shattering vibration of a cosmic laugh. The jaws close, and there is no light for about an hour -- until Atropos begins to siphon solar energy from the sun into her veins. She is dissatisfied with its dying tint, or perhaps she cannot stand the redness of color, so once she injects this energy into her her body (her most intimate domain), she turns it bright yellow again. The universe within her is illuminated.

The City is a floating chunk of broken skyscrapers and puckered asphalt streets. The trauma of consumption has wrecked the usual infrastructure: buildings are half collapses, or skeletal, vehicles are flipped and strewn across the layout. Whatever vegetation that is still clinging onto life has rejoiced under the return of normal sunlight.

You can breathe. It isn't too hot, or too cold -- it's unusually pleasant, in fact. The sunshine veins that light your world are not overwhelming. There is no blue sky to complement the atmosphere, and whatever water still in the City will be constrained to the bottled kind found in shops.

But there are other floating pieces of worlds, and they might have water. Or food.

If you live in the City, your possessions should still be in the City. While about 76% of the natives have fled the City (which had gotten the brunt of focus over the past week), there are still some natives who were too sick, too sentimental or too stubborn to leave.

You'll find that your powers work normally, though you can't teleport within Atropos. You probably wouldn't want to teleport outside of her, anyway.

She swallows, and the City gentle glides down a slick throat. Dust and particles create stunning visuals, like the aurora borealis, except in warmer colors. Light reflects so easily from solar veins and starstrewn flesh.

While you can breathe easily, gravity is fickle. Physics is often defied. Atropos was never one to play by the rules.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Somewhere safer. It's easier said than done. He lifts his head to the rubble around them; he had no idea where Lil intends to take him.

He exhales deeply, to ground himself, before he does as she advises. It will hurt, when she lifts him, and he's as ready as he will be. The angle is awkward, but he does manage to get his arms around her. He grips the opposite wrist, his head bowing against her shoulder. ]

Don't do it halfway. Don't stop when it hurts me. Just go.

[ It'd be worse to stop and start. He wants to get it over with. ]

[ it isn't as if she wants to cause him pain -- but she's never been the type to shy away from doing what needs to be done, and so he doesn't have to tell her twice. she gets her hands on him as best she can with the two of them so awkwardly positioned, and with a deep breath, she hefts him onto her back and stands up in one slightly unsteady motion.

she has to take an extra step or two for balance, huffing a little exhale of effort. her mutant genes give her a little extra strength, and she's not a small woman by any means, but then again, he isn't a small man either. ]

Jesus. [ she manages though. once her feet are under her, it's fine. she starts walking. now would probably be a good time to look for supplies -- a store, a pharmacy, anything still in tact. ] An' y'were always sayin' it'd be me that ended up hurt. Y'figure we're even now?

[ It hurts more than he expects.

He should have put something between his teeth. They grind together when he tries to fight back any sound of pain. It strains and his eyes squeeze closed. Pain. His legs feel like weights and he tastes blood. ]

Whatever you want.

[ It's rough and quick when he speaks, his voice tight and tense. He squeezes his hands together, trying to brace himself, but every motion only proves worse.

Christ. ]

[ she can be hard-headed, but she isn't so unperceptive that she doesn't notice how much the movement is hurting him. still, there's nothing to do but carry on. it won't do them any good to stop now. she can only hope it doesn't get worse -- and she does her best to walk carefully, to not jostle him too much. ]

Sorry, hon. [ for once, her apologize sounds sincere. ] Bear with it, okay?

[ she thinks she spots a building up ahead that doesn't look too wrecked -- with any luck, there will still be some supplies left. ]

I ain't gonna let y'go out like this.

Yeah.

[ His voice is quieter now, obviously strained, and he holds tight to her. There is darkness around the edges of his vision and his body begins to feel numb.

That isn't a good sign.

So long as he keeps feeling in his arms, he can hold on.

Her next statement cuts through the haze and he would scoff if he had the breath. ]

Don't talk stupid.

[ she does scoff. ]

That's what you're always tellin' me. Hasn't stopped me yet.

[ still, even for lil, it's not a complete cake walk to carry him. what was initially easy enough is starting to turn into a building burn in her muscles. she really must be getting old. it's lucky that the building isn't much farther. she can make that distance if she doesn't think too hard about it. ]

Y'think at the end of the goddamn world an' all, y'could stand t'not be a complete asshole t'me, jus' this once?

[ she huffs out another breath, though its more exertion than whatever mild annoyance she feels. as they approach that building, it becomes obvious from the broken sign that it's a little mom and pop pharmacy -- probably more or less raided by now, but it might be better than nothing. lil nudges the door open with her shoulder, managing to get them inside.

a quick glance around reveals that most of the place has been looted already. but a closer look wouldn't hurt. she crouches to set him back down against some of the empty shelves. ]

[ At this point, he doesn't bother straining for more words. He sees the building, same as she, and he quiets himself. He focuses his mind on staying conscious. He isn't sure how badly blacking out will damage him.

He winces and hisses out his exhale when she sets him down. He isn't sure there's an angle he can rest in which won't result in further pain in his legs. Being still does help, minutely, and the small mercy is something he should be grateful for.

Still.

He watches her; she doesn't have wounds as obvious as his own but the stress is obvious. Physical and emotional. Quickly, he catches her arm in his hand, before she inevitably leaves to rummage for supplies.

He speaks, firmly, each word sure and strong. ]

Are you all right?

[ she seems surprised when his grasp unexpectedly stalls her from moving away, and it shows on that honest face of hers. she only blinks at him for a moment or two, maybe unsure how to take a question like that from a man who keeps insisting to her that he doesn't care. finally, she sighs, responding a bit quietly: ]

I'm fine. I'm Diamond Lil, remember? Nothin' can hurt me.

[ her expression softens a little as she considers him, tired and a bit rueful. she pats his hand with her own before carefully pulling free, pausing only to absently push stray hair back from his forehead as she goes on: ]

Glad I found you.

[ then she straightens to turn away and look for whatever might be left in the ruins of that place. ]

[ Satisfied by the answer, he lets his hand fall away. To be honest, he isn't sure he could maintain that hold much longer even if he tried. He keeps his gaze on her, though his vision is admittedly blurred.

He should be glad too, but something festers in his mind about the whole idea.

When she starts searching, he feels doubtful. There is nothing in this rubble that may fix his ruined legs and all the painkiller in the world may not make a dent. He swallows down some of the sick taste in his mouth, and speaks again. ]

Lil?

[ she's rummaging around somewhere in the back of the small space, digging through empty boxes with building exasperation when she hears him say her name. it makes her pause, the way he uses her first name and not her last, and she can't help the slight feeling that it somehow means something is wrong. she stops what she's doing, finding her way back though the shelves to where she left him.

crouching next time him, she looks him over. it's not the best she's ever seen him. only stubbornness keeps her from thinking anything too final. ]

I'm here. Y'need somethin', hon?

[ Beneath some of the dirt and blood, his skin is paler. It's hard to notice, with the darkness and the dust on his face, but it's a clear reaction to the damage his body is enduring.

When she's close enough, he finds enough energy to lift his hand. He drags his gloved fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear before cupping the back of her head. Distantly, it registers that he ought to have removed his gloves; the leather might snag uncomfortably in her hair.

His breaths are shorter, strained by exhaustion, pain, and something else that got into his lungs. That something else is what loosens his tongue and he speaks. He sounds hazy, obviously lightheaded, and his voice is low and rumbling. ]

Beautiful--

Edited (ruins my elegant tag with a stupid typo) 2014-01-12 04:30 (UTC)

[ she isn't expecting him to touch her. he never seems willing to -- not unless she's either pinned the man down or backed him into an often literal corner. it makes her still when he lifts his hand towards her, pushing worn leather through her hair in a way that reminds her too much, too suddenly of other times they'd been together. her eyebrows pinch together as emotion wells up in her chest unbidden.

then he speaks, just that one word, and her chest tightens almost painfully. she'd stopped feeling beautiful years ago, when her husband stopped wanting to see her bare or to feel her skin against his, but more than that -- it frightens her in a way she can't explain, this behavior that's so unlike him. it seems foreboding to her somehow, the way someone might give up regrets and confessions on their death bed. ]

Stop it. [ her voice is hushed, anxious. she lifts a hand to his forehead, checking for fever, for any sign of infection. it's hard to say now -- he's in such terrible shape. ] Stay with me, Frank. I need you t'stay with me.

[ He isn't sure what makes him say it.

It may be delirium from pain, but that's unlike him. Even in agony, and under torture, he's composed. It's hard to tell what compromises him now; maybe it's just the situation itself, and the company he has in it. It escapes him now because... he isn't even sure.

The truth is: Atropos is in his lungs, urging him onward, and he cannot resist it through strength of will.

He can't remember the last time he called a woman beautiful, or even any compliment so direct that had nothing to do with combat. It's something she deserves to hear. She may never hear something kind said to her again, here at the end of all things. What harm would it do now, when the world was in pieces? He might as well give her that. It's as much as he can offer now, in his condition. ]

Yeah. [ His voice is still hazy, distant somehow, as he idly brushes a stray hair of hers back into position. It's hard to connect the words she says somehow, and there's another level to his response that slips by him: ] I'll stay.

[ such few words, but they still make her lungs squeeze tight again. she knows, given the circumstances, that it shouldn't mean anything to her, but it's still hard on her heart to hear him talk that way. maybe it's just that she's too sentimental, always more emotional than she should be.

lil catches the hand that brushes at her hair in both of her own, squeezing tightly before she lets go of him to draw away again. there must be medications left somewhere -- or at least water. anything. she'll look, she'll find it if it's there.

she only lingers another moment, watching him with concern in her face. ]

Y'better, y'damn bastard. I'll never forgive you if y'leave me now.

[ with that she moves, more urgency in her steps than before. ]

[ He just makes a soft sound in reply. He lets her go without calling her back this time, his hand falling back to his side.

This won't kill him; worse things have threatened his life and he survived. However, it isn't his own survival that's on his mind -- it's the survival of the entire world that was created here.

He says nothing. He simply watches her move, his good eye fluttering but not falling shut.

He's too stubborn for that. ]

[ in the back of the abandoned building, she finds a locked door leading back into the actual pharmacy. it seems like the lock and an impressive metal grate kept most of the looters out -- but then again, most looters weren't lillian crawley. she wields a special sort of persistence -- and a little super-strength to back up that six-foot-four frame.

there's two or three loud thuds before the sound of the door slamming open resounds through the space. it only takes a few minutes before lil returns, her mission clearly successful judging by the supplies in her arms. it's not a lot, but it's enough to make due with. ]

Hey. [ she reaches out to lightly pat his face. ] Hey. Y'still with me?

[ if they work, the painkillers she has will probably be a blessing -- and a necessity, before she tries to get a proper look at his legs. she's no doctor, but she knows that'll hurt more than it does now. popping open one of the bottles she collected, lil pours out three or four white pills into her own palm before pressing them into his hand. ]

[ He hadn't realized he fading, not until she touches his face. His good eye blinks open, wide to begin before memory kicks in: Crawley. His legs. The pharmacy. Right. He lost a lot of his bearings for what could only be a few minutes with his eyes shut -- not a good sign.

Still, his expression softens somewhat when he recognizes her face. ]

Hey. [ He repeats her greeting in a dazed murmur. Belatedly, he notices what she pushes into his hand. He takes the pills dry, tipping them into his mouth and swallowing. ] 'preciate it.

[ He tilts his head back, waiting for the pills to kick in and he exhales deeply as he looks at her. ]

You're worried.

[ lil looks up when he says that, eyebrows pinching slightly. ]

I care about you.

[ as if it should be obvious -- as if she's almost a little annoyed that he points out her worry, though that's more likely her festering anxiety over the circumstances than any real temper.

she tries to focus on what her hands are doing instead of what her nerves feel, keeping herself steady as she picks through her supplies for a pair of scissors. she'll need to get a better look at the damage hiding under fabric of his pants. a part of her almost dreads it, but it isn't as if she hasn't seen more than her fair share of broken bodies before. ]

I'll try t'be gentle.

[ that's all the warning she gives before she gets to work, cutting a neat line through one pant leg to just above the knee, exposing the injury underneath. ]

[ She shouldn't worry, nor should she care to begin with -- but he won't have that argument now. Considering the circumstance, there is no reason to waste what little energy he has in fighting with her. It may be the last time he speaks to her at all; he may as well let it be.

It isn't pitying, how he thinks like this; it's merely practical. It's hard to deny the situation with one look around them.

His brow tightens when she gets near the wound, and he exhales steadily. ]

Do what you need to.

[ He finds the energy, eased by slowly working medication, to pull off his glove. The leather will do well enough for him to bite down on, if she tries to set the bone straight. ]

[ she sits back to put the scissors aside and roll up her sleeves -- a gesture that's almost beside the point, when she's already covered in dirt and dust. it's lucky that she's managed to scrounge up some antibiotics along with those painkillers, because this is hardly what one would call sterile. underneath blood and skin, she can see where the break is, ugly and jarring to look at. setting the bone will be an uncomfortable business.

lil glances up at frank almost apologetically. it isn't as if she hadn't caused him pain before -- purposefully even, at times -- but without temper and passion, it seems grim now, even a little cruel. ]

...It'll be quick.

[ that's all the warning she gives before she puts her hands on him, inhaling deeply before she forces the bone back into place. ]

[ It doesn't look good.

He's been worse; he repeats that to himself. He has been chopped to pieces, stitched back up again, and been reanimated. This is nothing. He can survive this.

He puts leather between his teeth and he bites down hard. The glove muffles half of his shout when she sets the bone, but not entirely. His eyes squeeze shut and pain burns white hot through him. It throbs and he throws his head back, chest rising in short, sharp breaths.

He reaches up, removing the glove to utter one command before shoving it back into his mouth: ]

Both; don't wait.

[ stress begins to tighten her lungs a little -- but it only shows on her expression for a brief, fleeting moment. she has a good strong face, this one, and she does her best to wear it now, forcing her hands to stay steady. scissors make quick work of the other pant leg, exposing the second injury. it isn't pretty. the gore makes her hesitate a half-beat before she puts her hands back on him, bloody fingers slipping ever so slightly before she manages a firm enough grip to set the bone.

lil's exhale, once the deed is done, escapes her in a rush. without thinking, she lifts a hand to her forehead, pushing hair back from her face. blood leaves smeared lines against her skin. but she can't be bothered to notice. if she stops to let it all sink in, she'll falter. the secret of her strength has always been to just keep going, to keep barreling forward until the worst is over.

she fumbles a little, getting the bottle of antibiotics open, but manages to get the pills into his hand before she wordlessly reaches for what few bandages they have. ]

[ Nothing exists for a moment after she sets his second leg. His teeth grind into leather and his mind whites out. It'll pass, experience tells him that, but in that instant he knows absolutely nothing. Slowly, the world bleeds back into focus, and he drops the glove from his mouth. He's hazy, vision a bit blurred around the edges, but he can focus on her.

He sees that hand in her hair, and the smear of blood she leaves behind. It catches his attention: bright red in the mess of dust and her skin which has paled due to her nerves. He takes the pills in one hand, but the other reaches out, touching her face again. His thumb rubs against the bloodstain, but he ends up just spreading the mark further. ]

Hey. [ A quiet attempt to get her to look at him, the pills in his hand idly dismissed for the moment. His voice is still slurred when he speaks, made lazy from the pain in his legs. ] C'mere.

[ his touch draws her attention, coaxing her to lift her head from her hands to his face when he speaks. there's a little festering anxiety in her face, making the space between her eyebrows knot and drawing tension into the shape of her mouth. she's strained with worry and tired now, worn down by the weight of her own feelings and the devastation around them.

still, she's surprisingly compliant for him, shifting closer.

quietly: ] What d'you need, hon?

[ Even with his eyes weak, he can see the stress on her face. She's struggling and she must be afraid -- afraid for him, at least. She did admit worry, but not fear; he doubts it's at all like her to admit anything like that.

After all, that's what she always says: nothing can hurt her; she's Diamond Lil.

Oddly, the idea of that being arrogance has never really stood out to him.

When she comes closer, he leans forward as much as he can to meet her, his forehead resting against hers. ]

Worrying too much.

[ He mutters it and his lips ghost over hers. ]

of those blackholes & revelations

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