How did we get here? How the hell - PAN LEFT. ( ACTIVE / CLOSED )

[onetosurvive]

Characters: Mark Cohen, Maureen Johnson
Content: Mark and Maureen meet face-to-face. There is catching up. Also, there are crabs, and biting. Ouch.
Location: Alphabet City, near Avenue B
Time of day: Evening
Warnings: Crab-Violence, and a wee bit of gore? Also, cursing, most likely.
♫ Song Used: Halloween ♫

Comments

[plzpookie]

Maureen had packed her things (the few clothes she'd collected, the laptop she scavenged) and was on her way over to Mark's the evening after they spoke. It only took one duffel bag to fit her belongings in... Not much different from before, really. She was no stranger to living with nothing but the clothing on her back

[onetosurvive]

And there she was. It was like staring back in time. Maureen had aged well, but he could still tell that this was not the same Maureen he'd seen last year. Time had been reversed, and for a moment, Mark forgot where he was.

That is, until a crab parasite sunk it's teeth into the rear wheel of his bike.

"Aw, shit!"

[plzpookie]

Maureen was almost to him when the creature came in the picture. She froze in place, nearly dropping her duffel bag as it bit into his bike. Crap. She glanced over to see a few more skittering forward... These were the parasites she'd been told about...

She looked around, there had to be something she could use to defend herself (because she knew Mark would be incapable of doing so)... Dropping her bag, she went to grab a pipe that'd been abandoned... or broken. Either way, it was hers now... And not a moment too late. She swung hapharzadly as a crab lunged towards her. "Babe! Are you ok?" she called back to him, glancing over her shoulder.

[onetosurvive]

Mark was scrambling off the ground now, the bike forgotten -- but not the camera. He had enough of those, but he'd be damned if he was going to leave without that tape. There was no time to get the camera off the handlebars, it was duct taped securely. Damnit! Scrambling for the release button on the camera, Mark kicked one of the screeching creatures in what he assumed was it's face.

"Don't just swing at it, stab through the sh--AAUGH!"

Mark had never wanted to know if the things had beaks, or teeth, but now he was finding out first hand. His previously deflected pursuer had struck back with a vengeance, tearing it's teeth (definitely teeth) through the denim pant-leg of his jeans, and into the flesh of his calf.