(no subject)
Characters: 00 (ghost_of_00), Qi (enchainement) and later Stellaris (lingeringlegacy)
Date/Time: December 5th, morning
Location: Fisher Island
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Summary: How does I survival instinct?
Fred's location was still unknown.
00 had been making another circuit of the islands in search of her. That she had been caught in the elevator seemed the highest likelihood, but it was still possible that she had been injured and unable to send for help through the journal.
Now there were strange life-forms in Edensphere. 00 did not like them. They stank of rotten meat and though human in appearance, displayed no human qualities. Zombies, they had been called. Undead. How could something be undead? Life was a binary state. An organism was living, and then it died. What force could bring it back? Something seemed to lay dormant in her mind... an answer that would not clarify. But whatever power had resurrected these, it was not benevolent.
She recognized no faces. They were probably a generation of whatever power generated things for other occurrences. That was speculation she could not afford right now. The relevant information was that they were invading the islands and endangering everyone. 00 didn't know if the item she had found in her room yesterday was a weapon... it did not look like any conventional one, modern or medieval. It appeared to be two long, flat pieces of red material twisted around each other, opening at one end into two sharply-pointed tips. It struck her with a sense of strange familiarity, as though this was something she must have handled. Yet when she picked it up, it felt... strange. She held it in her hands. That was right, and not. 00 did not understand it.
But as a plain object, it was proving effective against the zombies.
Her arms and legs burned with fatigue as she ran towards the bridge leading away towards Captain Planet. Defend. The instinct rose so strongly in her now that there was no denying it--she was here and she was equipped. There were more zombies following a panicked young man across the bridge. 00 stabbed into them, aiming for the eyes, even using the lance as a bludgeon and stabbing backwards with the single end. She glanced over to see that the man was standing there, watching with fear plain on all his features. "Run!" she ordered as she smashed the lance into a zombie's face. He hesitated--she opened her mouth to shout again when he finally turned and fled across the island. Good.
There had been five zombies. She had dispatched three. Now there were twelve.
That is not the correct answer, said one thought in her fatigued mind. Five minus three is two.
If she fled, they would pursue her from the bridge and reach the person she had just helped escape. There would be others too. They were hunting people--they were an enemy of mankind.
Familiar.
She raised the lance and attacked again, a fierce look on her face. But the lance felt too heavy to lift and her movements were too sluggish--00 felt sharp fingernails rake across her arms, teeth biting into her shoulder. She cried out in pain, trying to shake off the ones that had reached her, but... too many. Outnumbered. Too close to use the lance now... 00 struck out with her hands and feet as much as she could, but she could see that it wouldn't be enough. I'm going to die. Oh. But... no. The thought was not so blank... she thought back to her first memory. He cried. Will this make anyone here cry? I don't want... More pain. Somehow she lost her grip on the lance. She cringed against the bridge support, too weary to try lashing out, instead trying to protect her head with her arms as they pressed in on her. More pain. Why? Why am I making this gesture. Death is inevitable. Instinctual movement. It hurt. It hurt so much. She couldn't think. Only hurt.
I hope I come back.
Date/Time: December 5th, morning
Location: Fisher Island
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Summary: How does I survival instinct?
Fred's location was still unknown.
00 had been making another circuit of the islands in search of her. That she had been caught in the elevator seemed the highest likelihood, but it was still possible that she had been injured and unable to send for help through the journal.
Now there were strange life-forms in Edensphere. 00 did not like them. They stank of rotten meat and though human in appearance, displayed no human qualities. Zombies, they had been called. Undead. How could something be undead? Life was a binary state. An organism was living, and then it died. What force could bring it back? Something seemed to lay dormant in her mind... an answer that would not clarify. But whatever power had resurrected these, it was not benevolent.
She recognized no faces. They were probably a generation of whatever power generated things for other occurrences. That was speculation she could not afford right now. The relevant information was that they were invading the islands and endangering everyone. 00 didn't know if the item she had found in her room yesterday was a weapon... it did not look like any conventional one, modern or medieval. It appeared to be two long, flat pieces of red material twisted around each other, opening at one end into two sharply-pointed tips. It struck her with a sense of strange familiarity, as though this was something she must have handled. Yet when she picked it up, it felt... strange. She held it in her hands. That was right, and not. 00 did not understand it.
But as a plain object, it was proving effective against the zombies.
Her arms and legs burned with fatigue as she ran towards the bridge leading away towards Captain Planet. Defend. The instinct rose so strongly in her now that there was no denying it--she was here and she was equipped. There were more zombies following a panicked young man across the bridge. 00 stabbed into them, aiming for the eyes, even using the lance as a bludgeon and stabbing backwards with the single end. She glanced over to see that the man was standing there, watching with fear plain on all his features. "Run!" she ordered as she smashed the lance into a zombie's face. He hesitated--she opened her mouth to shout again when he finally turned and fled across the island. Good.
There had been five zombies. She had dispatched three. Now there were twelve.
That is not the correct answer, said one thought in her fatigued mind. Five minus three is two.
If she fled, they would pursue her from the bridge and reach the person she had just helped escape. There would be others too. They were hunting people--they were an enemy of mankind.
Familiar.
She raised the lance and attacked again, a fierce look on her face. But the lance felt too heavy to lift and her movements were too sluggish--00 felt sharp fingernails rake across her arms, teeth biting into her shoulder. She cried out in pain, trying to shake off the ones that had reached her, but... too many. Outnumbered. Too close to use the lance now... 00 struck out with her hands and feet as much as she could, but she could see that it wouldn't be enough. I'm going to die. Oh. But... no. The thought was not so blank... she thought back to her first memory. He cried. Will this make anyone here cry? I don't want... More pain. Somehow she lost her grip on the lance. She cringed against the bridge support, too weary to try lashing out, instead trying to protect her head with her arms as they pressed in on her. More pain. Why? Why am I making this gesture. Death is inevitable. Instinctual movement. It hurt. It hurt so much. She couldn't think. Only hurt.
I hope I come back.