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rainbowfic2013-10-05 04:02 pm
auguris) wrote in rainbowfic2013-10-05 04:02 pm
Blood Red 3, Transparent 19
Name: auguris
'verse: After The World
Story: Escape
Colors: Blood Red 3. gunshot, Transparent 19. East
Supplies and Styles: Pastels: forgetting
Word Count: 569
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: Continues from here. Jean's memory has a few holes. Concrit welcome.
Max reached a hand out to her, then seemed to think better of it and let it fall into his lap. "They've taken a lot of people," he said quietly. "I don't know why."
Jean ran her finger over the scar. It curved behind her left ear, skin barely raised. She'd had a nasty bike accident as a kid, leaving this big ugly scar on her thigh. Two, three weeks with stitches? This one looked like a mean papercut. "Who are they?"
"I have no idea," Max rushed out. "The mainstream news isn't talking about it. They're calling Boston a terrorist attack but they're not talking about what actually happened."
She sat forward. "Boston? Where are we?"
"Outside Pittsburgh. Or I was, when they grabbed me."
Jean looked down at herself, self-consciously crossing her legs when she realized that, aside from a thin plastic shirt, she was naked. "What happened in Boston?"
"Chaos," Max said. "They had some sort of electrical bomb. My phone stopped working and the power went out and then they were... everywhere. Everyone was running, I almost ran someone over, and they were grabbing people right off the street."
"Where were the cops?"
Max shrugged. "I heard sirens everywhere but they never came near me. I don't think the cops knew what they were dealing with. They don't... they're not... like us." He shrugged his whole body as he said it. "They all look the same, and their eyes..."
Like the men she'd fought. Four guards who looked exactly the same, same haircut, same skin and eye color, same bulk. The doctors seemed different, but the first one had goddamn wires sticking out of his back. Some kind of implant?
"What about you?" She blinked at him. "I mean, what happened to you? Did they attack Pittsburgh too?"
"I wouldn't know, I live in Granton." Too small to be a city, too big to be a town, Dana always said. Strip malls and suburbs. Community theater was high brow and pot smoking was the biggest crime in town. Dana wanted to move to the 'Burgh but Jean couldn't stand it. Granton got boring but at least it didn't smell like piss and rotten eggs. "I don't remember being grabbed."
"Memory loss is a normal reaction to trauma." It sounded like something he'd memorized. "What do you remember?"
Waking up. Alone, still not used to it. Bathroom. Staring at hollow eyes in the mirror. Deciding against showering, nowhere to be. "I heard gunshots," she murmured. "Close, like they were down the street, but I couldn't see anything from my window." Thrown on a pair of pants. Thought about grabbing her Glock, decided against it. Walked through her kitchen and. "I don't remember going outside." Morning light streaming through the window over the sink, filtered through those stupid orange curtains Dana'd left behind. Dirty dishes piled on one side.
"Hey, easy." Max touched her arm. She gripped her head, fingers digging into her skull. "Don't push it. If you don't remember, you don't remember."
"Why can't I--" She shut her eyes, temple throbbing. "I walked into the kitchen and I..."
"Jean, listen. Don't worry about it. It might come back to you, it might not. It's not important right now."
She wrapped her arms around herself. "I need clothes." Sunbeams. Dirty dishes. Dana happy to have an east-facing kitchen. "I need to get back to my apartment."
auguris'verse: After The World
Story: Escape
Colors: Blood Red 3. gunshot, Transparent 19. East
Supplies and Styles: Pastels: forgetting
Word Count: 569
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: Continues from here. Jean's memory has a few holes. Concrit welcome.
Max reached a hand out to her, then seemed to think better of it and let it fall into his lap. "They've taken a lot of people," he said quietly. "I don't know why."
Jean ran her finger over the scar. It curved behind her left ear, skin barely raised. She'd had a nasty bike accident as a kid, leaving this big ugly scar on her thigh. Two, three weeks with stitches? This one looked like a mean papercut. "Who are they?"
"I have no idea," Max rushed out. "The mainstream news isn't talking about it. They're calling Boston a terrorist attack but they're not talking about what actually happened."
She sat forward. "Boston? Where are we?"
"Outside Pittsburgh. Or I was, when they grabbed me."
Jean looked down at herself, self-consciously crossing her legs when she realized that, aside from a thin plastic shirt, she was naked. "What happened in Boston?"
"Chaos," Max said. "They had some sort of electrical bomb. My phone stopped working and the power went out and then they were... everywhere. Everyone was running, I almost ran someone over, and they were grabbing people right off the street."
"Where were the cops?"
Max shrugged. "I heard sirens everywhere but they never came near me. I don't think the cops knew what they were dealing with. They don't... they're not... like us." He shrugged his whole body as he said it. "They all look the same, and their eyes..."
Like the men she'd fought. Four guards who looked exactly the same, same haircut, same skin and eye color, same bulk. The doctors seemed different, but the first one had goddamn wires sticking out of his back. Some kind of implant?
"What about you?" She blinked at him. "I mean, what happened to you? Did they attack Pittsburgh too?"
"I wouldn't know, I live in Granton." Too small to be a city, too big to be a town, Dana always said. Strip malls and suburbs. Community theater was high brow and pot smoking was the biggest crime in town. Dana wanted to move to the 'Burgh but Jean couldn't stand it. Granton got boring but at least it didn't smell like piss and rotten eggs. "I don't remember being grabbed."
"Memory loss is a normal reaction to trauma." It sounded like something he'd memorized. "What do you remember?"
Waking up. Alone, still not used to it. Bathroom. Staring at hollow eyes in the mirror. Deciding against showering, nowhere to be. "I heard gunshots," she murmured. "Close, like they were down the street, but I couldn't see anything from my window." Thrown on a pair of pants. Thought about grabbing her Glock, decided against it. Walked through her kitchen and. "I don't remember going outside." Morning light streaming through the window over the sink, filtered through those stupid orange curtains Dana'd left behind. Dirty dishes piled on one side.
"Hey, easy." Max touched her arm. She gripped her head, fingers digging into her skull. "Don't push it. If you don't remember, you don't remember."
"Why can't I--" She shut her eyes, temple throbbing. "I walked into the kitchen and I..."
"Jean, listen. Don't worry about it. It might come back to you, it might not. It's not important right now."
She wrapped her arms around herself. "I need clothes." Sunbeams. Dirty dishes. Dana happy to have an east-facing kitchen. "I need to get back to my apartment."