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- Joined
- Feb 7, 2009
(This is a roleplay based in the Resident Evil world, and is likely to incorporate a number of extreme fetishes.)
To be a bird - to fly over high, over the rooftops to travel swiftly from street to street, to see the contrast in one city block from another... Normally such a thing could be considered interesting, though here, at this moment, such a gift would be astounding. To see some blocks alive with stories told upon apartment stoops, to see grocers out peddling their wares and to hear the radio of a car as the driver passed on by. Such streets were in stark contrast to the next over, streets alive, but in a much different sense - streets where the people hoped for death, but if stories they'd learned as children were about to hold true, each knew their imminent fates were far worse.
To be a bird and see it all so freely, that was all Ellen could think of as she laid there on the paved sidewalk, blood trickling from the side of her head. It didn't hurt, not anymore. Initially it had, but now it was just numb. Very, very numb, much as was the feeling of her entrails as they were being gnawned upon by two diseased women, their fingers and teeth stained fresh with Ellen's blood. It had all happened in a flash, all happened out of nowhere, on the way home from work with her grocery bags in tow. They attacked her. They grappled her, fell to the ground, and quickly tore at her clothes and bit into her skin. And from there they feasted, like zombies that belonged alongside werewolves and vampires in a child's storybook. She hadn't seen it coming. She wouldn't have believed it, even if she had. But now it was apparent. Now she could see a young boy at the other end of the block being chased after as well.
Oh to be that bird, to see things from on high. To have seen this before she lay in a growing puddle of her own dark blood. Or to take high upon the wind and perhaps escape this, whatever this was...
One of the oranges from her bag of groceries had rolled out and onto the sidewalk a few inches from her head. Her right eye no longer worked, or at least was too numb for her to notice. Her left was barely halfway open, and of that half, half of her visibility was blocked by the orange. But in the distance she could see him. Run. Run, you poor bastard. Forget about the ball. You don't even see him, do you? Oh god, you don't even see him... Neither did I. Neither did anyone.
Yet a block away Raccoon City had never been more at peace, the scent of summer barbecues and the din of bikini-clad patrons of the city pool filling the air. A few blocks away from that was chaos, cars smashed into cars smashed into storefronts, flames that would engulf entire buildings in a matter of minutes, and possibly the entire block not too long after. The contrasts were sharp. Some knew about the zombie infestation that was breaking out all across their home in that summer evening; sadly, though, they were the unfortunate bastards who had learned the hard way, who would soon be joining their ranks. Word wasn't out yet. At least, the woman thought in those moments when her sight fluttered to a close, at least they have a few oblivious moments with their families left.
"Run little boy... run... f-for... rrr y..."
The soft whisper never made it past her lips.
To be a bird - to fly over high, over the rooftops to travel swiftly from street to street, to see the contrast in one city block from another... Normally such a thing could be considered interesting, though here, at this moment, such a gift would be astounding. To see some blocks alive with stories told upon apartment stoops, to see grocers out peddling their wares and to hear the radio of a car as the driver passed on by. Such streets were in stark contrast to the next over, streets alive, but in a much different sense - streets where the people hoped for death, but if stories they'd learned as children were about to hold true, each knew their imminent fates were far worse.
To be a bird and see it all so freely, that was all Ellen could think of as she laid there on the paved sidewalk, blood trickling from the side of her head. It didn't hurt, not anymore. Initially it had, but now it was just numb. Very, very numb, much as was the feeling of her entrails as they were being gnawned upon by two diseased women, their fingers and teeth stained fresh with Ellen's blood. It had all happened in a flash, all happened out of nowhere, on the way home from work with her grocery bags in tow. They attacked her. They grappled her, fell to the ground, and quickly tore at her clothes and bit into her skin. And from there they feasted, like zombies that belonged alongside werewolves and vampires in a child's storybook. She hadn't seen it coming. She wouldn't have believed it, even if she had. But now it was apparent. Now she could see a young boy at the other end of the block being chased after as well.
Oh to be that bird, to see things from on high. To have seen this before she lay in a growing puddle of her own dark blood. Or to take high upon the wind and perhaps escape this, whatever this was...
One of the oranges from her bag of groceries had rolled out and onto the sidewalk a few inches from her head. Her right eye no longer worked, or at least was too numb for her to notice. Her left was barely halfway open, and of that half, half of her visibility was blocked by the orange. But in the distance she could see him. Run. Run, you poor bastard. Forget about the ball. You don't even see him, do you? Oh god, you don't even see him... Neither did I. Neither did anyone.
Yet a block away Raccoon City had never been more at peace, the scent of summer barbecues and the din of bikini-clad patrons of the city pool filling the air. A few blocks away from that was chaos, cars smashed into cars smashed into storefronts, flames that would engulf entire buildings in a matter of minutes, and possibly the entire block not too long after. The contrasts were sharp. Some knew about the zombie infestation that was breaking out all across their home in that summer evening; sadly, though, they were the unfortunate bastards who had learned the hard way, who would soon be joining their ranks. Word wasn't out yet. At least, the woman thought in those moments when her sight fluttered to a close, at least they have a few oblivious moments with their families left.
"Run little boy... run... f-for... rrr y..."
The soft whisper never made it past her lips.