Aftermath

[aeons_crackshot]

She'd been too drunk to dream the night they came in, but there's no alcohol to drown out the memory tonight.

The earth shakes, and the world is full of the terrible sound of buildings being ripped apart and the air screaming as if in agony

Comments

[leadinghome]

And Connor can feel something bothering her. No specifics, that would need an indiscretion, just the general feeling, but that is enough to bring him over, knocking lightly on the door.

[aeons_crackshot]

The sound of the knocking wakes her instantly, breaking the grip of the nightmare.

She swings out of bed, and walks, pajama-clad, to the door. "Connor?" she says, surprised, as she opens the door.

[leadinghome]

"Hi." A bit sheepish. "You... were having a nightmare?"

[aeons_crackshot]

"Sort of," Annabelle replies, faintly sheepish herself. She stands back to allow Connor to come in.

"Yesterday was.....bad, very bad, she says quietly.

[leadinghome]

Connor steps in, turning to her, curious. "How bad?" He will gently tug the woman into his arms after she closes the door.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle's not entirely sure where to even start with what happened yesterday.

"Well, it started with a device being used to mind-control every citizen in Chicago and got much worse from there..."

[leadinghome]

Starting at the beginning is a good idea. "Okay, and I am guessing you went there to help."

[aeons_crackshot]

"I did," Annabelle says with a nod. "Tanya Adams' world is in the middle of World War Three. Which would be bad enough if they didn't have at least one very powerful psychic with no morals worth mentioning."

Annabelle sighs. "The U.S. had already barely managed to stop a similar mind control device in Washington D.C., and the Soviets had put another one in Chicago."

Her expression is grim, "It was rather handy for them to have that many extra bodies to keep us away from the even more powerful version they were building in Chicago...."

[leadinghome]

He makes a face, nodding... mind-controlled drones, your own people fighting against you.

What is it with all worlds seeming to have a Mark or someone similar? If not in powers, in ideas and intentions... "Gotcha... go on."

[aeons_crackshot]

Human nature, possibly.

"Tanya and I were helping thin things out a bit so the army could blow the thing sky high," she continues.

"It was a damn bloody mess, but we managed it," she says with a pained expression. There were so many innocent people that she had no choice but to put holes in, and the nagging pressure of the Device on her mind wore on her nerves.

Her expression turns a bit distant, "And then somebody high up in the Soviet military ordered them to drop a nuclear bomb on Chicago..." she says, voice cracking a bit.

[leadinghome]

Jaw hanging.

No, he has no words, at all.

"Shit!" Well, besides that.

[aeons_crackshot]

That was Annabelle's thought at the time too, more or less.

Annabelle keeps talking, voice distant. It's possible that she's forgotten when and where she is. "You run, even though you know you can't escape. The air screams and the world is full of fire...." she shudders a little.

[leadinghome]

Connor frowns and holds her closer, tighter, to remind her she is not there anymore.

She is safe now.

[aeons_crackshot]

"It was only 20 feet away when the Door showed up," she continues. "I suspect the two of us are the only ones who got out alive...."

"He killed his own soldiers. Men, women, children, on purpose....I don't....I don't understand how anyone could do that." she whispers, voice cracking.

[leadinghome]

"Someone who does not care about anything, or anyone." Connor sighs, stroking Annabelle's hair.

[aeons_crackshot]

"I suppose," Annabelle says with a sigh. She leans into Connor's touch.

It's comforting, being held like this.

"I couldn't save them," she says quietly. "It's not....why just the two of us, why?"