Fever Dreams [CLOSED]
Who: Pepper, V, Castiel (emitted)
When: Sometime during the Zombie event.
Where: ???
What: ZOMBIES ATTACK!
Notes: Pepper is experiencing a lot of trippy stuff as a result of being in shock. Expect a lot of confusing narrative and picspam?
( Cut for fever-dream picspam narrative~ )
When: Sometime during the Zombie event.
Where: ???
What: ZOMBIES ATTACK!
Notes: Pepper is experiencing a lot of trippy stuff as a result of being in shock. Expect a lot of confusing narrative and picspam?
( Cut for fever-dream picspam narrative~ )
She had been bitten and it scented her blood; she had called out and it sped up, as if encouraged.
Its face was a ruin, almost unrecognizable although anyone could have identified its mouth---gaping and lipless, with strong squared teeth---immediately, and its intentions, as well. Its expression was vacant… but something in its structure suggested avarice.
Its animation was interrupted as a shadow struck, swinging a bat at the side of its head with savage force. The skull could have crumpled beneath the blow, but the zombie was thrown to the side too quickly to see---
And then there was V, taking her upper arm with one hand and urging her to stand.
“Where there is smoke, there is fire, and flames are fed by human hands---”
He lost the line when he saw, by the blood on her hand, that Pepper had been bitten.
“Pepper…”
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There was a crunch, then the sound of a body slumping bonelessly to the ground and suddenly a strong hand lifting her up. She staggered, but eventually got shakily to her feet. V may find that, when he grabs her arm, his gloved hand closes over what seems to be a man's belt looped and tightened into a tourniquet, thus preventing the bite from infecting the rest of her body.
"V--" Pepper gasped in pain, feeling momentarily overcome with a wave of nausea at the sensation. She kept it together, but just barely. "Where's Castiel? Have you seen him?!"
Funny thing was, he was never here.
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(It was streaked with questionable substances and it stank, but it had proved to be a servicable weapon, and more practical than a blade would have been.)
“We’re going to go back to the museum. Castiel can contact us over the network, whenever he is able… but we will have to escape now if we are going to escape at all. This way.”
The pressure of his arm across her back increased; he was pushing to steer her, through her shock, out his entrance. The way he’d come had been clear; if they moved quickly enough, they could cross several streets in relative safety.
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I haven't talked to him in some time.
Pepper allowed herself to be lead, tripping once until she decided that walking with just one high heel was about as effective as none and just... kicked it off. If it hadn't been for V's hand steadying her, she would have staggered to the floor numerous times.
"But he was... he was right here. We can't leave him, V!" She pleaded, "We--"
Something kept nagging at her senses, and it wasn't the smell from the Louisville slugger V was carrying. There were gaps in her memory -- such as where she was. Or where the Impala had gone -- hadn't she wrecked parked it over there?
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He could have brought the van, and he supposed he should have, but it had seemed like a bad idea before. The vehicle would have drawn too much attention to allow for his investigation, and he had wanted the opportunity to seek out supplies and survivors.
Survivors.
The dead eat hope. We had none to give them.
“Pepper.” When he said her name, he could have said ‘listen to me’; he wanted her attention. “We will move for the museum as quickly and as quietly as we are able. If we are attacked, you will run; I will delay them, I will draw them, and I will meet you at the museum, whatever occurs… although I will not leave you if I am able to avoid it. Am I understood?”
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Maybe he took the Impala to get help.
Pepper glanced back over her shoulder, not seeing so much of a hint of the Impala or the angel. Everything hurt, it was hard to think straight, and she saw no answers for her confusion in the Fawkesean mask. So she just nodded in a daze.
...Does he even know how to drive, though?
Heck, just imagining the angel behind the wheel was a little frightening. Hadn't he tried that before even with Dean's instruction? Pepper bit her lower lip, her pallor only accentuating that sickly look when she shivered.
Focus, Pepper.
"Y-yes." She glanced down as the puppy cradled in the curve of her arm shifted and sneezed. Pepper still didn't remember ever having picked him up at the house. "Before we go, can... can you please carve a note for Castiel to meet us at the museum?"
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His arm still around Pepper, V turned from her and dropped his bat to draw one of the two knives he was wearing. The others had vanished, but these blades were special; silver. He had had to retrieve them from a chest in the attic before setting out when the reality storm struck. He handled them with the same skill as the original six, comfortable despite their cast. The old paint on the wall parted easily, and he scrawled a simple message at shoulder height;
‘The museum
Pepper’s safe
- V’
The request fulfilled, the revolutionary sheathed his blade, picked up his bat, and pushed at Pepper’s back again.
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"Thank you, if you hadn't arrived when you did--"
She probably wouldn't have made it this far, at least not without an unholy desire to taste the brains of the living or something. That's... how it worked, right?
"Wh-what about everyone else? Have you seen anyone?"
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“If I hadn’t arrived when I did, I would have struck sooner.”
It was the only assurance he could offer before another furtive foray into the open. When they were past the next intersection and half-hidden again, he answered.
“KITT is in the museum, and we’ve acquired one John Connor… but I haven’t heard word from many others---none of ours.”
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"KITT can fit in there?" Then, as an afterthought, she adds, "...This is a Shift, isn't it? A Reality Storm. I felt it... a few days before it happened, I think." Now she knew what to expect -- that strange, unsettled sensation she experienced was the fabled 'reality storm radar' the angelii had as an ability, telling her that she needed to trust her instincts more.
After all, that was her job now.
"...I see. He's human, I suppose, isn't he?" John Conner didn't spark any recognition, however...
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“It is, and you should have.”
Someone was sobbing on a neighboring street. V ignored the noise.
“He is---more’s the pity. It means we’ve another mouth to feed, but the museum is manned.”
Fortunately, the building was coming closer.
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Pepper's attention was arrested by an anguished noise from the other direction. While the need for her to get some kind of emergency medical treatment was somewhat dire and immediate, she couldn't help but be distracted by the sound of sobbing. The puppy tilted his head at the noise and gave off a high whine.
"Do you hear that?" It... kind of sounded like it was coming from somewhere over there, didn't it?
"...It sounds like someone's crying, doesn't it?"
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He paused.
Since he was accustomed to close combat, he hadn’t acquired a ranged weapon. Pepper wasn’t fit to wield the bat or knives---not with her health---and her hands were full. They were three breathing bodies… with one active enough to act aggressively.
“Not with our odds.”
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...But that wasn't all of it, was it?
Pepper frowned in confusion; something in the back of her mind was nagging at her again, politely coughing for her attention and she just wasn't picking up on it. Until it finally dawned on her. And good thing she was in poor health -- although she wasn't much of the type to go running into dangerous situations to play the heroine without some helpful words of encouragement.
"...You mean that's one of the undead? Is it... is it trying to lure us?" Thankfully, they were fast approaching the museum and shelter.
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