Phoebe Donovan knew Peter was dead for the eighth time because the sensation was now all too familiar and she couldn't stop choking on a pop tart.
This is so not on. SHE DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS.
Thankfully it wasn't a bus this time. Looking for Peter after sensing his temporary death has become routine since the plagues began. If he is dead, he was probably outside enjoying his locusts.
Because he is Peter and he wants to drive Phoebe insane.
Phoebe finds him on the sidewalk and some of the anger fades away at the sight of him. Despite Peter's assurance he will always come back, what if he doesn't one day, for whatever reason?
There are many things Phoebe's heart could take, but Peter dying for good isn't one of them. She'd die along with him, she knows it.
...Which doesn't mean she won't smack his dead-for-now body repeatedly with her tiny hands. If she's angry, she doesn't feel the pain and hollowness in her chest that lets her know a chunk of her is missing.
"Damn you, Peter Petrelli. Damn you and your fantabulously emo
Peter comes to as he's being pummeled, coughing up a bunch of locusts. Who scurry on their merry way. Gross.
He props himself up on his elbows, coughing, hacking, gasping for breath, and when he finally gets enough of one into his lungs to actually speak, he looks up at Phoebe, his eyes holding hers, and he says,
"I will not leave your hair out of it if I don't want to leave your hair out of it and I don't want to!" Phoebe says, hands now balling into fists. She's lost the initial gumption however, and she isn't really looking to pummel him.
"Eight times. You have died on me eight times. Which probably makes me the world's worst guardian ever but then how was I supposed to know you'd be CHOKING ON LOCUSTS. I don't CARE what you say I am chaining you to a bed and never letting you out of my sight AGAIN."
...The narration is deeply sorry your guardian angel is so special, Peter.
All the work getting people hidden away in the JCC has to be put on hold, given the sudden advent of locusts, which means Aaron Barnam is taking time out of his busy schedule acting as a bodyguard to do what every sensible person would do.
Get very, very drunk.
Thus why there's currently a very inebriated archangel wandering around the JCC with a bit of mistletoe in his hair. It is best not to question where that came from.
Hey, it's the end of the world. A lot of people will be dead by Wednesday. Aaron intends to live it up.
Piper is in the greater Chicago area, because she's supposed to be helping keep people calm at the JCC and, really, she only left for a few minutes to get some breakfast. Theoretically, the odds of something happening in those few minutes are astronomical.
...But she's currently standing on a street corner on the verge of a major panic as she notes the dark, buzzing cloud descending on Chicago. Eventually, she will remember to move and duck into the nearest building. Right now, she is a terrified girl.
Re: [Locked]with_coffeeNovember 3 2009, 03:35:28 UTC
Robin is smoking a cigarette against a building when the cloud begins to descend. He just finished meeting with Wyatt, and he's feeling much better about the rest of this week.
It will all be fine.
He has a plan. When the last plague passes no matter what happens, it will all be taken care of. Robin's on his way back to the Conrad, pausing to take a break, collect his thoughts. He knows Rachel already has her suspicions, but he'd rather not Ruvin have them as well even if they're true and no one has any right to ask any differently of him.
And then there's an unexpected cloud of locusts which really should have been expected considering it's all bloody well been written out ages ago and did he not bother to weekly planner of what to expect on what day? What was the point of making it if he can't even utilize the damn information?
And there's a young, frightened girl staring at the cloud. Robin drops his cigarette and rushes toward her, grabbing her as gently as possible and pulling her away from the spot she was frozen on. "When
( ... )
"Hu- what?" Piper blinks, but allows herself to be pulled away, because she's not the type to protest under panic. And, anyway, she doesn't want to be eaten alive by locusts. She has a feeling that's not the best way to go out.
She collapses onto her knees when they reach shelter, panting. She's out of shape and she's never had to run for her life before. She.. Really doesn't want to have to do it again.
Unfortunately, she doesn't have long to deal with it, because the overwhelming cocktail of fearpanichatefearhatepanic coming from everyone in the room is almost overwhelming and she has to cover her ears and clench her teeth, like she's shutting out a bad sound
( ... )
The panic and rage comes over him all at once, battling for control. His hands form fists at his side, and he looks at her when she speaks though he hardly sees her. If he stays here, he could hurt her- everyone here. And she's a young girl who's terrified enough as it is without him freaking out at her, and it's not fair. She's Rain. She's Ruvin. She's-
"I have- I have to go," he manages in a tight, shaking voice as the last of his ability to maintain control over his emotions leaves him.
It's useless to try to get out, because no one wants that door open. Not with locusts on the other side. There are several locks on it. There's an iron bar in the handle. His hands are shaking as he tries and fails to get them all unlocked and pull the bar free. People are yelling at him. Someone tries to pull him away, but he punches them in the face, knocking them out. The effort hurts. His mind erupts in pain and for a second, he forgets. It's only a second though. It's not long enough, and he's trying to open the door, again
( ... )
[locked to Liam]rattle_thecagesNovember 3 2009, 03:58:23 UTC
Rachel stumbled upon a suicide just an hour ago. She is refusing to let it get to her. The fact Robin isn't back isn't panicking her either. It isn't. She is trying to tell herself that.
He's fine, he's saying goodbye to his friend.
He promised and Rachel believes him.
Her hand is dripping blood. Blood spilled onto her hand while she tried finding a pulse on the body. Her heart is hammering in her chest and it almost drowns out the rest of the noise within the Conrad. Almost, but not quite.
Everywhere she turns, there's panic and chaos.
Rachel leaves the infirmary. She needs air. She needs a moment. She needs something.
On the other side of the glass doors she finds Liam Booth.
It seems whenever she's about to lose her steely resolve, there he is.
Rachel walks toward Liam, and once she's in front of the glass door between them she flattens the palm that isn't bloody against the glass. I am so tired.
Liam knows he's needed. He's never been the sort to pry or push; he knows often the best way to be invited to help is to allow the invitation to happen. Let someone come to you, don't chase.
But when he sees Rachel pause at the door, hand up, he moves to intercept. He steps through the door and gently pries her hand away from the glass, holding it gently.
"We should find a sink, yeah? Get your hands washed. I'll walk with you, if you like."
Rachel nods wordlessly, falling in step beside him.
She's lost count to how many times she's been in front of a sink wiping blood off her hands.
"Hope is so important, as long as it inspires action. Hope is very hard to lose. But it's good to do your damn best and hope for it, too--while being prepared for the worst, I've always thought."
Growing quiet as she washes her hands, Rachel allows the silence to fall between them. Her chest clenches when she asks, "...You aren't a firstborn, are you?"
Liam plucks a paper towel from the dispenser, holding it out by one corner for Rachel to take.
"Hope's all you've got sometimes," he agrees. "Y'can't go losing it. You might as well just lay down and die if you lose it. Nothing will save you at that point, if you well and truly lose all of it, yeah? That's why you fight to keep it. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard."
He pauses, watching her thoughtfully. "I'm not, no. I fall smack in the middle of me clan. You?"
Comments 39
He's dead.
...He choked on some locusts.
The narration is deeply sorry that your ward is so special, Phoebe.
Reply
This is so not on. SHE DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS.
Thankfully it wasn't a bus this time. Looking for Peter after sensing his temporary death has become routine since the plagues began. If he is dead, he was probably outside enjoying his locusts.
Because he is Peter and he wants to drive Phoebe insane.
Phoebe finds him on the sidewalk and some of the anger fades away at the sight of him. Despite Peter's assurance he will always come back, what if he doesn't one day, for whatever reason?
There are many things Phoebe's heart could take, but Peter dying for good isn't one of them. She'd die along with him, she knows it.
...Which doesn't mean she won't smack his dead-for-now body repeatedly with her tiny hands. If she's angry, she doesn't feel the pain and hollowness in her chest that lets her know a chunk of her is missing.
"Damn you, Peter Petrelli. Damn you and your fantabulously emo
Reply
He props himself up on his elbows, coughing, hacking, gasping for breath, and when he finally gets enough of one into his lungs to actually speak, he looks up at Phoebe, his eyes holding hers, and he says,
"...Leave my hair out of this."
Reply
"Eight times. You have died on me eight times. Which probably makes me the world's worst guardian ever but then how was I supposed to know you'd be CHOKING ON LOCUSTS. I don't CARE what you say I am chaining you to a bed and never letting you out of my sight AGAIN."
...The narration is deeply sorry your guardian angel is so special, Peter.
Reply
Get very, very drunk.
Thus why there's currently a very inebriated archangel wandering around the JCC with a bit of mistletoe in his hair. It is best not to question where that came from.
Hey, it's the end of the world. A lot of people will be dead by Wednesday. Aaron intends to live it up.
Reply
...But she's currently standing on a street corner on the verge of a major panic as she notes the dark, buzzing cloud descending on Chicago. Eventually, she will remember to move and duck into the nearest building. Right now, she is a terrified girl.
Reply
It will all be fine.
He has a plan. When the last plague passes no matter what happens, it will all be taken care of. Robin's on his way back to the Conrad, pausing to take a break, collect his thoughts. He knows Rachel already has her suspicions, but he'd rather not Ruvin have them as well even if they're true and no one has any right to ask any differently of him.
And then there's an unexpected cloud of locusts which really should have been expected considering it's all bloody well been written out ages ago and did he not bother to weekly planner of what to expect on what day? What was the point of making it if he can't even utilize the damn information?
And there's a young, frightened girl staring at the cloud. Robin drops his cigarette and rushes toward her, grabbing her as gently as possible and pulling her away from the spot she was frozen on. "When ( ... )
Reply
She collapses onto her knees when they reach shelter, panting. She's out of shape and she's never had to run for her life before. She.. Really doesn't want to have to do it again.
Unfortunately, she doesn't have long to deal with it, because the overwhelming cocktail of fearpanichatefearhatepanic coming from everyone in the room is almost overwhelming and she has to cover her ears and clench her teeth, like she's shutting out a bad sound ( ... )
Reply
"I have- I have to go," he manages in a tight, shaking voice as the last of his ability to maintain control over his emotions leaves him.
It's useless to try to get out, because no one wants that door open. Not with locusts on the other side. There are several locks on it. There's an iron bar in the handle. His hands are shaking as he tries and fails to get them all unlocked and pull the bar free. People are yelling at him. Someone tries to pull him away, but he punches them in the face, knocking them out. The effort hurts. His mind erupts in pain and for a second, he forgets. It's only a second though. It's not long enough, and he's trying to open the door, again ( ... )
Reply
He's fine, he's saying goodbye to his friend.
He promised and Rachel believes him.
Her hand is dripping blood. Blood spilled onto her hand while she tried finding a pulse on the body. Her heart is hammering in her chest and it almost drowns out the rest of the noise within the Conrad. Almost, but not quite.
Everywhere she turns, there's panic and chaos.
Rachel leaves the infirmary. She needs air. She needs a moment. She needs something.
On the other side of the glass doors she finds Liam Booth.
It seems whenever she's about to lose her steely resolve, there he is.
Rachel walks toward Liam, and once she's in front of the glass door between them she flattens the palm that isn't bloody against the glass. I am so tired.
Reply
But when he sees Rachel pause at the door, hand up, he moves to intercept. He steps through the door and gently pries her hand away from the glass, holding it gently.
"We should find a sink, yeah? Get your hands washed. I'll walk with you, if you like."
Reply
She's lost count to how many times she's been in front of a sink wiping blood off her hands.
"Hope is so important, as long as it inspires action. Hope is very hard to lose. But it's good to do your damn best and hope for it, too--while being prepared for the worst, I've always thought."
Growing quiet as she washes her hands, Rachel allows the silence to fall between them. Her chest clenches when she asks, "...You aren't a firstborn, are you?"
Reply
"Hope's all you've got sometimes," he agrees. "Y'can't go losing it. You might as well just lay down and die if you lose it. Nothing will save you at that point, if you well and truly lose all of it, yeah? That's why you fight to keep it. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard."
He pauses, watching her thoughtfully. "I'm not, no. I fall smack in the middle of me clan. You?"
Reply
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