Post by Jay on Dec 22, 2019 20:52:21 GMT -5
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[break][attr="class","nikki101"]IF THERE'S SOMETHING STRANGE
[break][attr="class","nikki102"]IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD
[attr="class","nikki109"] January 3rd, 26 AV. [break][break]
Infirmary, 1905hrs. [break][break][break]
The infirmary was a shadow of its former self, a war-ravaged warzone devoid of warriors, but where war had probably happened.[break][break]
A war to end all wars, because it was like, a really bad one this time, dude. Hospital beds were pushed up against all but a single door, haphazardly lining the exits to the room, and bookshelves were blotting out the windows. A handful of flashlights did their very best to keep the room illuminated, but it was clear that they were not really the most sufficient lighting. Luckily, a microwave set up on a table by Doctor Haragitanai's intern's desk provided some small relief, in that it was dust-powered, and not connected to the rest of the power grid. Its small light contribution was not to be discounted, though. Next to the microwave, there were a handful of lightning dust containers, partially filled, though looking a little low. Medical supplies were strewn everywhere, as the sole survivor of the like, super-gnarly scary war, which is by now, a metaphorical war, not a real one, that would be stupid, uh... Oh, right, sole survivor had tossed everything around in his noble quest to find stuff to fix these damn heaters with. The heaters were his last line of defense in his war against winter, the Winter War of 26 AV as it would later be called.[break][break]
Also, he'd scored like, two hot pockets in the process of seeking out the tools he needed. Frickin sweet, man.[break][break]
A loud ding from the microwave evoked a girlish shriek from the pile of blankets and pillows huddled together in the center of the room, and a shoe flew soundly across the room, missing the microwave by a good foot or two, because the man hiding in the pile of warmth didn't actually look before flinging it.[break][break]
He immediately regretted throwing his shoe, though, because it meant two things.[break][break]
One, he'd have to leave his hiding place to retrieve it, and two, if he didn't retrieve it, his foot would be colder than the other one. He could throw the other shoe too, but what if a scary Grimm or a spooky intruder snuck in? He'd be barefoot, and then how would he escape with his life? This was very hard for Valko to deal with. He just wanted to go back to bed, but nooooo, he had to check his scroll, and some rat kid just had to go and tell him the school was full of Atlesian spies intent on murdering everyone.[break][break]
Well, okay, he didn't say that, exactly, but what he said was close enough.[break][break]
"Aw man, oh fuck, oh shit, oh damn, oh gosh, aw geez, oh shoot... Pull it together, dude... You can do this..." It was a very reassuring pep talk. Or well, it would have been, if the words were different, the delivery was better, and literally anyone else was giving it to him.[break][break]
Whatever. He dragged himself out of his blanket fort, revealing a relatively short guy, built like a stickball bat, with droopy brown eyes that needed at least ten more hours of sleep. Maybe twenty. His lab coat was rumpled and a little dingy from hiding in the aforementioned bedding pile, which was itself on the floor, because why the fuck would he use one of the beds? Those were for barricading the doors, duh. He wasn't an idiot. [break][break]
Twitchily, he made his way over to the microwave, ducking behind nearby furniture, and jumping at the slightest breeze, throughout his perilous quest. Eventually, he made it, and carefully pulled his shoe back on, shivering at the chilly winter air that had drifted in through the building. [break][break]
It really didn't help that he'd left the window open earlier, when the indoor heating was making the infirmary too hot, but he didn't feel like getting up and walking all the way across the room to adjust the thermostat. Now his regrets were as deep as his yawns. Thinking about yawning, he yawned. A big, fat, sleepy yawn. Then his yawn made him yawn again. He glanced back to his warm, safe, pile. Then to his desk, where like, a billion textbooks, forms, and signup sheets sat in a disorderly pile. Fuck. He didn't finish writing his weekly inventory report. Doc was going to murder him. She would murder him to death even worse than the Atlesian Grimm invaders or whatever was lurking out there in the shadows.[break][break]
Thinking too hard about the shadows, he grabbed his hot pocket and made a beeline for the pile. Except, actually, he didn't, because the hot pocket was way too frickin hot, and he tripped over his untied shoelaces and fell over, bumping his head on the heater he'd been trying to fix earlier, before he gave up on that until help arrived.[break][break]
Speaking of help...[break][break]
Laying on his back on the ground, dropped hot pocket scorching a hole in his thigh, and the sweet embrace of sleep looking more and more appealing with every second he was awake, Valko stared into his Scroll, before shooting off a quick message in the main Haven Academy chat.[break][break]
"uhhh dude you still coming??? hurry up my guy i cant hold out much longer... please help!!!"[break][break]
There. That ought to be an inspiring message to spur that rat boy on. Maybe even the weird kid who sleeps outside or whatever the fuck he said, or even the other normal students who stopped talking before Valko woke up. Hopefully someone got to him soo-[break][break]
"Shit, shit, shitshitshitshit!!! OWWWW!" The hot pocket had finally caught up with him. At first, the warmth was uncomfortable, but helpful, but now his leg was on fire (figuratively), so he leapt back up, and flung the offending food item back into the microwave, before settling back down into his blanket pile. A wayward glance was offered to the fire dust heater, and then to the spots in the room, where he was sure his tools were. Except getting to them meant traversing the spooky infirmary... In the dark... Alone...[break][break]
Suddenly, the blanket pile seemed much more inviting.[break]
[break]
[break]Infirmary, 1905hrs. [break][break][break]
The infirmary was a shadow of its former self, a war-ravaged warzone devoid of warriors, but where war had probably happened.[break][break]
A war to end all wars, because it was like, a really bad one this time, dude. Hospital beds were pushed up against all but a single door, haphazardly lining the exits to the room, and bookshelves were blotting out the windows. A handful of flashlights did their very best to keep the room illuminated, but it was clear that they were not really the most sufficient lighting. Luckily, a microwave set up on a table by Doctor Haragitanai's intern's desk provided some small relief, in that it was dust-powered, and not connected to the rest of the power grid. Its small light contribution was not to be discounted, though. Next to the microwave, there were a handful of lightning dust containers, partially filled, though looking a little low. Medical supplies were strewn everywhere, as the sole survivor of the like, super-gnarly scary war, which is by now, a metaphorical war, not a real one, that would be stupid, uh... Oh, right, sole survivor had tossed everything around in his noble quest to find stuff to fix these damn heaters with. The heaters were his last line of defense in his war against winter, the Winter War of 26 AV as it would later be called.[break][break]
Also, he'd scored like, two hot pockets in the process of seeking out the tools he needed. Frickin sweet, man.[break][break]
A loud ding from the microwave evoked a girlish shriek from the pile of blankets and pillows huddled together in the center of the room, and a shoe flew soundly across the room, missing the microwave by a good foot or two, because the man hiding in the pile of warmth didn't actually look before flinging it.[break][break]
He immediately regretted throwing his shoe, though, because it meant two things.[break][break]
One, he'd have to leave his hiding place to retrieve it, and two, if he didn't retrieve it, his foot would be colder than the other one. He could throw the other shoe too, but what if a scary Grimm or a spooky intruder snuck in? He'd be barefoot, and then how would he escape with his life? This was very hard for Valko to deal with. He just wanted to go back to bed, but nooooo, he had to check his scroll, and some rat kid just had to go and tell him the school was full of Atlesian spies intent on murdering everyone.[break][break]
Well, okay, he didn't say that, exactly, but what he said was close enough.[break][break]
"Aw man, oh fuck, oh shit, oh damn, oh gosh, aw geez, oh shoot... Pull it together, dude... You can do this..." It was a very reassuring pep talk. Or well, it would have been, if the words were different, the delivery was better, and literally anyone else was giving it to him.[break][break]
Whatever. He dragged himself out of his blanket fort, revealing a relatively short guy, built like a stickball bat, with droopy brown eyes that needed at least ten more hours of sleep. Maybe twenty. His lab coat was rumpled and a little dingy from hiding in the aforementioned bedding pile, which was itself on the floor, because why the fuck would he use one of the beds? Those were for barricading the doors, duh. He wasn't an idiot. [break][break]
Twitchily, he made his way over to the microwave, ducking behind nearby furniture, and jumping at the slightest breeze, throughout his perilous quest. Eventually, he made it, and carefully pulled his shoe back on, shivering at the chilly winter air that had drifted in through the building. [break][break]
It really didn't help that he'd left the window open earlier, when the indoor heating was making the infirmary too hot, but he didn't feel like getting up and walking all the way across the room to adjust the thermostat. Now his regrets were as deep as his yawns. Thinking about yawning, he yawned. A big, fat, sleepy yawn. Then his yawn made him yawn again. He glanced back to his warm, safe, pile. Then to his desk, where like, a billion textbooks, forms, and signup sheets sat in a disorderly pile. Fuck. He didn't finish writing his weekly inventory report. Doc was going to murder him. She would murder him to death even worse than the Atlesian Grimm invaders or whatever was lurking out there in the shadows.[break][break]
Thinking too hard about the shadows, he grabbed his hot pocket and made a beeline for the pile. Except, actually, he didn't, because the hot pocket was way too frickin hot, and he tripped over his untied shoelaces and fell over, bumping his head on the heater he'd been trying to fix earlier, before he gave up on that until help arrived.[break][break]
Speaking of help...[break][break]
Laying on his back on the ground, dropped hot pocket scorching a hole in his thigh, and the sweet embrace of sleep looking more and more appealing with every second he was awake, Valko stared into his Scroll, before shooting off a quick message in the main Haven Academy chat.[break][break]
"uhhh dude you still coming??? hurry up my guy i cant hold out much longer... please help!!!"[break][break]
There. That ought to be an inspiring message to spur that rat boy on. Maybe even the weird kid who sleeps outside or whatever the fuck he said, or even the other normal students who stopped talking before Valko woke up. Hopefully someone got to him soo-[break][break]
"Shit, shit, shitshitshitshit!!! OWWWW!" The hot pocket had finally caught up with him. At first, the warmth was uncomfortable, but helpful, but now his leg was on fire (figuratively), so he leapt back up, and flung the offending food item back into the microwave, before settling back down into his blanket pile. A wayward glance was offered to the fire dust heater, and then to the spots in the room, where he was sure his tools were. Except getting to them meant traversing the spooky infirmary... In the dark... Alone...[break][break]
Suddenly, the blanket pile seemed much more inviting.[break]
[break]
[attr="class","nikki103"]1016 words | [attr="class","nikki103"]EVENT | [attr="class","nikki103"]1016 TOTAL WORDS |
NOTES
Death EnabledPHARAOH LEAP CREATES
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