Is This Home?

[animusmods]

Characters: anyone who got sent "home", anyone going to rescue them
Setting: your world?
Format: any
Summary: Post your nightmare world! Travel to other nightmare worlds! Save people from nightmare worlds!
Warnings: general angst/horror warnings for now

There's a bright flash of light and a screech of sound before you pop back into existence in familiar territory. Maybe something's off about it, though...

Comments

[sullenandroid.livejournal.com]

A world of pure mechanical industry and robot-enforced martial law.

Almost just as he'd left it. Except when he'd left, it was just one city like this. Now, the entire planet belongs to Wily. No one stood up to him. All the humans are just as complacent as before with their situation.

Only now, instead of Protoman leading Wily's armies, it's a familiar boy in blue... The one who'd stirred a small, flicker of hope in him before he left, now in his place.

hope you don't mind a late arrival

[consumedpast.livejournal.com]

Alice had little recollection how she had arrived there, which in turned provided even less regarding a secure exit. Not that much of an unfamiliar situation to be placed in, and she certainly wasn't going to learn more by simply standing around and doing nothing.

Further exploration revealed more of her overly mechanical surroundings. She held little fondness for such a sight, the dreary atmosphere serving only to remind her the world she had left behind. Standing out, however, was a red helmet.

It was a sight she was able to recall, along with the rest of figure.

"What's this? I wasn't expecting to find you here."

so basically, the "Mao destroys the world" ending? It happened.

[weirderscience.livejournal.com]

The Overlord has risen from the dead.

Or at least, Mao thought he had.

In reality, the Overlord had never really died; he just stayed in a state of limbo, waiting for someone to finally teach his son the meanings of compassion, kindness, and most importantly, human/demon rights, such as the one that states they should not be used for mad science experiments without their consent.

This was so in the 'real' world, and it is so in this one. But in the real world, Mao's insecurity about his father's ghost hating him was unfounded; it was just him superimposing the worst case scenario. In this world, however, his father does hate him, and he has made everyone else in the Netherworld hate him as well.

Raspberyl, Almaz, Sapphire, Mr. Champloo, even the units he created with his own hands, all want to hunt him down. But not to kill him, oh no. They have created an impossibly-high-security prison slash mental ward, and it is here they want to lock Mao for the rest of his long, long, long life. The hope they had for him in the real world is now gone. The people who were supposed to help him regain his mind were now angry and on the hunt, ready to isolate him forever.

And isolation leads to weakness of the heart, which leads to the terribly powerful, primordially violent 'inner demon' named Dark Mao.

[princesspowaful.livejournal.com]

It's been said that Molly is the glue that held her team together. Without her they would have kept fighting and disbanded. So how did they do after she was gone? Not very well, that's for sure. She arrives in what she thinks is LA, but there are no buildings so she can't tell. The few people she can find have never heard of the Runaways, or told her that they had a very short career and soon disbanded due to difference of opinions.

No one knows where they are. They're probably dead, they tell her. Without her to keep the team together, more and more villains got away with crimes. LA was full of criminals, then California, then the West Coast. Superhero teams and solo acts, mutants and X-Men couldn't stop the villains from taking over. The whole country was base to super villains attempting to take over the world.

There were no more heroes, they had either been killed or sent to another planet. She wasn't sure which story was true but Molly hoped that they were sent to a tower like she was. No matter what was true, she was alone here. She wished the tower would take her back.

[token_vengeance]

So the door Charles and Erik found didn't take them back to the Tower.

That was...troubling.

Letting out a breath, Erik steps out into the deserted street, watching every building warily. This is clearly someone else's dream--it will be based on their own horrors, their own fears.

They could face anything, and it isn't something he's interested in dealing with, especially with Charles with them.

Because as much as the other might not want to admit it, in a chair, in battle--he's a liability.

So hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

He looks down at Charles, raising an eyebrow. "Check to see who's dream this is?"

[straightupzorra.livejournal.com]

Santana knew that she wasn't that well liked, and she was totally okay with that. She had a group of friends who had her back no matter how much she insulted them. They were a family. A family, she discovers, that has been doing much better without her. When she shows up for Glee club one day they all just stare blankly at her, "What are you doing here?" they ask. No one was worried about where she's been.

She was replaced by a some skinny white girl cheerleader she's never seen before. The girl was all over Puck; Santana snarled at them. Brittany was sitting in Artie's lap, they were together again and happy as ever. No one was happy to see her. In fact...

"Could you just leave? We were doing super without you."

[2toadstoolsdown.livejournal.com]

It was weird, but when Rory walked into the hall in the morning, there wasn't nearly as much shoving and pushing as usual. In fact, the walk down the hall was downright pleasant in comparison to what he usually had to go through. And that was just downright odd.

That's probably why it seemed like a good idea to walk towards the choir room. He doesn't know if the Glee club will still remember him, if they still wanted him. If they even reminded him. It's like his heart is in his stomach as he walked towards the familiar room.

He took a deep breath when he reached the door, let it out when the knob turned. Unlocked.

And then let out another breath in the form of a sharp inhale when he nearly ran into a familiar figure.

"Santana?"

[knightofangst.livejournal.com]

Suzaku blinked at the flash of light and the screech and then he was home. Or sort of home. He was stood in the crater of FLEIJA, the one he had made except it seemed bigger. As if more bombs had been fired, he couldn’t see Ashford academy anymore and he went cold as he realised the whole of Tokyo had probably been destroyed now. It got worse.

Moments after he arrived he was surrounded by Knightmare Frames pointing guns at him, arresting him and taking him to Schneizel. Scheneizel had won, when Suzaku had disappeared Lelouch hadn’t been able to infiltrate Damocles and Schneizel had won, taking Lelouch and the others prisoner. Now Suzaku was his prisoner as well and the others hated him.

He had left them, been taken to the Tower when they needed him most and now they were captured, had been tortured, would probably be killed soon. All because he had failed them. Lelouch’s face was angry as he blamed him, told him he had failed him, just after he had began to trust him. That Suzaku had betrayed him again.

Suzaku knew it was all his fault, Lelouch told him he wished he had just killed him when he had the chance, before he had cast the Geass on him. That he should never have trusted him. It had been better without him, now he was back he would just mess more things up, if things could get worse.

Schneizel told him this as well, asked where he had been, asked why he had come back. Told him he could choose death, told him it was a kindness. And perhaps it was, perhaps the Geass had been a punishment all along, for he had to live and live with what he had done, the lives he had destroyed. Listen to them as they told him how much they hated him. Knowing that once Schneizel decided to kill them he would be left, with just his guilt.

[evokemydread.livejournal.com]

After reading the sign, Minato walked in to help with his sword and evoker ready. Unfortunately for him, upon arrival, it doesn't took very long before he's noticed by others.

When they point their guns, real guns with bullets--whether they're real or not, he dare not risk it--at him, Minato let them arrest him under accusations of trying to murder 'His Highness'.

Stripped of his evoker, for looking too much like a gun, and his sword, they shoved him into a prison. Sitting up, he glance around and see someone familiar through the glass wall.

[isnotagiraffe.livejournal.com]

Taiki appeared in Tai, he knew it was Tai but barely recognised it. It was worse than it had been when he and Gyousou had first decended. It was completely destroyed; it smelt of blood. The few people Taiki saw looked frightened and starving, running away as they saw him approaching.

He wandered through the destroyed streets scared and disorientated and the worst thing was he couldn’t sense Gyousou anywhere. No light on the horizon no direction that felt more hopeful than the others.

He headed towards the palace feeling dizzy and sick with the smell of blood and violence. The palace was mostly destroyed as well, the glass statues smashed and scattered around the gardens. Bodies still lying on the floor, as if there had been an attack and they had been left there. He walked in a daze, clutching onto walls as he tried to keep himself upright, tried to stop himself from fainting.

It didn’t take him long to find Gyousou’s body, in the throne room, surrounded by his advisors. Shaking with horror Taiki stumbled towards him fighting the diziness as best he could. Once he got there Taiki collapsed at his side. Sanshi appeared and rocked him in her arms as he sobbed.

[gentle-souldier.livejournal.com]

Vivi hadn't known what was going on - he'd just found the strange door and curiosity had beaten fear, helping him open the door and step through.

Then everything had turned black, before light had returned, rushing in with sound, sight and smell, the foreign world forming around him. Vivi blinked and nearly retched from the far too familiar scent of blood, eventually leading him to the ruined palace. "H-Hello?" he called before covering his mouthwith a hand and hiding behind whatever cover he could as he moved along, too many times of moving in dangerous territory giving him enough sense to be careful.

The sounds of crying drew him to the throne room, and he came around to find Taiki in the arms of a strange... woman? Well, the top half seemed... female? "T-Taiki?"

[nursenotweapon.livejournal.com]

Death City lay half in ruins, the crumbled towers of the Academy visible from the distance he stood at. Something had happened here while he was gone, that much was obvious. Soul took a step back, placing a hand on one of his arms to rub it nervously, wondering what had happened here. It was nighttime, but there were no lights on. Perhaps the fact that there were so many corpses surrounding him, some just bits of bone but a few fresh bodies laying here and there. Blood, old and dry, splattered the ground and walls surrounding him.

Without him around to keep her in check and look after her, the madness had taken control of Maka. He only had to reach out with his soul to find hers to know, searching through their link, perhaps a dangerous move but right now at this point in time he didn't care. There had been a change to it. A dark, evil change. With so many souls consumed and so many pure Weapons and Meisters taken, it was only natural that she would become a Kishin in his absence. Nobody could kill her; the black blood made her much too strong, the madness making her crazy but cunning.

It was only when he reached their apartment - somehow still standing - that it finally became reality. The apartment was completely trashed, looking much like something from a horror movie. His name is scratched over the walls in blood, over and over again as though she'd been trying to summon him back from the tower. Placing a hand to the wall, Soul heaved a sob before he dropped down to his knees. He had left her when she needed him around, been taken to the tower. He'd failed.

Again.

hello i suck a lot

[boldmilquetoast.livejournal.com]

This was a horrible decision, and dangerous, stupid, reckless, unplanned...

And yet Crona wasn't really regretting it, even while following the trails of gore and flesh through the unlit city. This wasn't home, or at least their specific home- but it shouldn't have had to be anyone's, especially Soul's. Crona wasn't sure where to go, or what to look for specifically, given they hadn't had long enough to chat about their differences. Both he and this Soul were too skiddish and worn, but one thing at least held true.

When Crona spotted the still-standing apartment building, it was only a matter of getting in, up the stained staircase and through the rubble and mess, finding the apartment door slightly ajar. The door creaked slowly open, Crona gripping the frame and poking their head inside. They heard something like a sob, and jostled from the doorframe, skittering inside out of concern. The place felt sick, and frankly, they didn't want to linger here long. "U-uhm...Soul? A-are you, here?"

[invisiblebombs.livejournal.com]

This was it, he was in hell. That was basically all he knew this could be. Karasu knew he had next to no chance at reincarnation, at living again, none of that. He thought he had come to accept an eternity of facing his own deeds, his victims.

He hadn't expected nothing. Just blank, dark, nothing. No sounds. No light. No activity. It was like being stuck in an endless vacuum, where even the sounds of his footsteps clicking through the halls gave weight to his existence.

Karasu didn't know what he had expected, honestly. Had he really thought that tower would reverse what had happened? He had been given a second chance at living and rather than try and do something, he had lazed around. He had celebrated serving none but himself. He had no regrets about how he had acted, but he could say he wished he had done more. Now, as he felt that old scar from the plant that had killed him, a dull ache in the background, he stood, and waited for eternity to pass.

[lucidmutant.livejournal.com]

Upon returning home, Fawkes finds out good news - the Lone Wanderer and the Brotherhood of Steel were successful in reclaiming the water purifier from the Enclave. The Lone Wanderer is currently in a coma, however - the intense radiation knocked them, as well as the Brotherhood Elder's daughter out, and they haven't woken up yet.

Fawkes, knowing he's more than likely better off not attempting to visit the Lone Wanderer while they recover, opts to spend his time at the ghoul city of Underworld. What he finds there is an outbreak of some mysterious sickness that has bedridden a great many of the ghouls there, who complain of feeling as if they're being burned alive from the inside out.

Unknown to Fawkes, the source of this sickness comes from what is thought to be the wasteland's salvation - the water from the purifier, dubbed 'Aqua Pura' by the Brotherhood of Steel, who are distributing it. When the Lone Wanderer activated the purifier, they inserted a modified strain of the Forced Evolution Virus, the virus that is responsible for a great many of the mutations in the post-war world. This modified version, however, is intended to cull mutations and people who have been exposed to too much radiation, intended to create a new, pure world.

On the way to Underworld, Fawkes picked up a bottle of Aqua Pura, and drank it shortly before his arrival. He shortly joins those sickened by the virus, bedridden and in torment...

tl;dr angst

[lamentless]

The Tram Comm was silent and still, with no way to get to Sunset Terrace. He couldn't find anybody at the shops in Station Heights, not even Wantz. All of Market Street was deserted, Central Station, the Sandlot, all the way to the back alley-

The hangout was empty. Everything was calm, but devoid of life, of energy and vibrancy. The more he wandered and sought, the less he felt like he was home. His feet eventually lead him to the haunted mansion, wearily as a last resort. The air always felt stale and cold, but it was an automated response to push those doors open, hoping that everyone was simply hiding, not wanting to address the more likely conclusion.

Jittering physics, bits and pixels...the world became consumed by glitches, sweeping and consuming everything, until all that was left was a never-ending blackness.

He didn't care. He didn't feel a thing. He wasn't supposed to, after all.

they can be emo together y/n/duck?

[drknss-bnd-lght.livejournal.com]

Ventus had noticed the new door. While he was wary about the note on it, it stirred something in him. Something that he would normally push down and lock away out of fear. The desire to help, to do something. That maybe it would be OK to try and save someone though, help instead of hiding away from people. A glance around and Ventus nodded then pushed on the door and headed...

...straight into that blackness and he froze, eyes wide. "NO!"

Never mind that it was darker than what he'd been kept in, it was still darkness and that was fear/pain/terror/choking/Unversed. 15 days of freedom could not erase 6mths worth of psychological trauma at his Other's hands.

All thoughts of trying to rescue anyone flew from his head as he cringed back, expecting the very worst. "No...."

[spiritsup.livejournal.com]

Romeo appeared in his village and grinned running towards his house. He had been gone so long! As long as he had been in Milano! “Mum! Dad! Nana!” There was no answer and he frowned. Maybe they were all inside; it was winter after all. “Pedro? Carlo?”

Finally someone appeared, it was Pedro but he just stared, as if he didn’t recognise Romeo anymore. “It’s me!” Romeo said but the little boy just turned round and walked off. Romeo followed him. He grinned in relief to see his nana but she just looked at him with annoyance.

“So you’re back?” She muttered and went back to chopping wood. Romeo bit his lip.

“I am, and it was really scary nana, I got kidnapped and taken to a tower and there were really bad people, and they turned me into a deer and I couldn’t properly walk and then my friend killed me!” His nana looked at him angrily over the wood.

“One of your stories again Romeo, I don’t know what they thought they were doing, teaching you to read. As if you needed more nonsense to stuff your head with.” She mumbled at him and he went to try and find his mum and dad. He found Carlo first who looked at him angrily.

“Where’s mum?” He asked his baby brother, not so much a baby anymore. Carlo stared at him and then started walking. Romeo followed him to the church, the bells were silent. They didn’t go into the church though but to the graveyard in the back and Romeo finally understood.

His eyes filled with tears as he looked at his mums grave. He had been taken away and she had died, and he hadn’t even been able to say goodbye properly. He was still crying when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned round to see the angry face of his father.

“I thought…” his father slurred, like mister Rossi had when he was drunk, “I sold you…”

“I came back remember but then I got kidnapped by some bad people and they took me to a tower and…” His father took his arm and took him to the town. There was someone Romeo hoped never to see again.

Luini the god of death, Romeo was powerless to do anything as his father sold him and he was once again in Luini’s clutches. “Not my son anyways…” His father murmured as Romeo was led away.

So tl;dr: the tower is almost Chidori's nightmare already guys

[floreatnoctem.livejournal.com]

She had known this was coming.

Perhaps not this exactly, but she'd known their attitude of 'live and let live', of 'understanding'- it was all a lie. They had only been willing to put up with her silence for so long, and Minato, Jin, Ken... she'd have liked to think they'd been trying, but they never quite managed to reach her. So she was given from the Doctors to the Scientists- almost the same thing in the end, when it came to the Kirijou group- so that they could try and 'help' her. Their 'help' came in the form of more tests first- her resistance to medications, Medea's reaction to certain others, how long they could keep her without suppressants...

Those only lasted so long.

It wasn't too long before they moved her someplace 'more secure' to 'properly test the negative effects of her persona'. They took her somewhere that, while it wasn't the same laboratory as the one of her childhood, might as well have been- they took her back to the cold, the dark. Back to constant nights of Medea being forced forth, most of them against Chidori's will, the strain slowly but surely taking its toll on her. Back to days without suppressants and Medea's will slowly but surely overtaking hers. Back to days of wishing that she'd finally outlive whatever usefulness she still had for these people (monsters really, worse than shadows, because the shadows at least didn't have the capacity to do this to one of their own) so they would finally just. Stop.

But still she hoped. She hoped that Strega would come. That her family would save her. She hoped that the Kirijo girl would demand answers as to what was being done with her, would become suspicious. She hoped-- until she simply couldn't anymore.

The night Medea finally broke free of the last of Chidori's wavering will, they all burned. Chidori, largely immune to the flames herself because of Medea's presence within her, watched them, flames flickering in her eyes. She watched their skin blister and melt, watched their bones char, watched them become ashes and then nothing until finally someone appeared to douse the flames and sedate her. They were more careful with her then- suppressants administered on a strict schedule, sedatives on another- they weren't sure if it was the girl or the persona that had destroyed their coworkers and part of their lab so indiscriminately, but they weren't taking any chances. They didn't realize that the girl and the persona were all but one and the same now, their goals and feelings flowing seamlessly together. And in their shared mind, they all still burned- and that alone kept them satisfied.

But it wasn't enough to dissuade them entirely, and the experiments eventually continued, now trying to figure out how to once again draw personae out of other subjects using Chidori as a template. She was horrified, but unable to do anything, trapped in her own body as she was. But her mind screamed, as did Medea's, and once again, they burned- test subjects this time, instead of scientists. It was a small mercy, but it was the best she could do. All she could do, really, until The End came, and rendered everything ultimately, completely, and endlessly dark.

The Fall could not come quickly enough.

[forcingrins.livejournal.com]

When Redglare finds herself in the room of Chidori's imprisonment, she has no context for why she might be there. But her roommate is easy enough to spot, presumably creatively strapped to an examining table, and Redglare draws closer in order to examine the situation.

"Chidori."

[hoboherooo.livejournal.com]

Eiji's return home was ...unsettling, to say the least.

Without him around to fight, Date had been left alone as Birth, and while he wasn't incapable, he become quickly overwhelmed without Eiji's help as OOO. Now all that was left was the Greeed being a menace to the world at large, fighting each other over core medals. Ankh seemed to be gone, or in hiding... Either way, when Eiji was found, his only option to fight back was the purple medals - they were useful, but with only those to use, he would soon become consumed by them - and become just another Greeed in the fight.

okay that got tl;dr and dramatic and stupid, whoops.

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

He panics, first and foremost, when the light and the sound assault him. He thinks he has a right to, after all that the Tower has proven capable of. He takes a fast breath and braces himself for some kind of impact or pain. He doesn't expect to feel water when the light subsides.

It's rain -- one of the precious few things that has stayed constant ever since he was a tyke. To be specific, it's very heavy rain, from how quickly he's drenched upon being thrown under it. This isn't the light shower of norm, it's a tempestuous downpour.

He can barely see even once he has opened his eyes. There's a pull in his heart and a looming silhouette of a clock tower in the distance that tell him where he is, though. He's in London. He's home.

But something feels very wrong.

He holds his hands out, palms facing up towards the blackened sky, trying to measure the rain as he used to do in his youth. The drops hit like pins and needles. The clouds are darker than he's ever seen them (but he doesn't even hear thunder, only the seemingly endless crash of the water falling down).

He's suddenly aware of water saturating his shoes, and the clouds are spared his scrutiny so that he can survey the streets. They're flooding. He could swear that the water hadn't been that high when he touched down.

He casts a look around, trying desperately to figure out what to make of his soaked capital and the odd weight in his heart. People are running, but none have bumped into him -- they almost seem to part around him, and yet pay him no mind as they pass by. He doesn't have to strain to hear their screams over the countless raindrops; their terror rings as clearly within his mind as his own thoughts do.

He hears something about the River Thames spilling out and over its flood barriers. Things about what diplomatic allies, someone please help, we've been sinking for years now, no one cares anymore. It's a cacophony that shrieks hopelessness.

The water is rising faster than scientifically possible, with so much ground to cover. It's practically at his knees. His heart feels like it's in his stomach. And more importantly, his lungs feel like they're about to join it.

He opens his eyes as widely as the skies themselves have opened, suddenly overcome with a horror so much more profound than what his people are feeling.

His country is sinking. No one cares enough to help. They've known and were just letting it happen. He's alone with the engulfed shores and flooding streets and screaming people and thousands and thousands of volumes of history being lost to the depths faster than they could ever hope to be salvaged--

He's drowning.

He has never before been in such chilling awe of the fact that his body is seventy percent made of what is killing him.

The water is at his waist on the outside and filling his lungs on the inside. He gasps for breath but only gets mouthfuls of rain -- claws at his torso but yields no opening for the water to escape from. Chest-level. There's barely room enough in his strained organs to breathe. He chokes on whatever mixture of air and liquid he manages to take in. Neck-level. He can't breathe, there's no air left, it feels like water is about to start spilling out of him--

Chin. He doesn't dare open his mouth. Lips, nose, eyes-- the world goes dark. He holds his sparse breath as long as he can, feels his flailing hand brush by what something that seems like it used to be paper in its better days. All the others, everyone he ever trusted to at least remember his sorry arse when he was gone, they all just--

It burns. He can't take it anymore.

He opens his mouth and swallows.

No it was beautiful. Hero to the rescue o/

[ocariness]

Luckily enough, Link is not the type to merely give in. She searched the Tower along with many others, and it was England upon whom she came first.

Or rather, his home, being drowned along with him. Admittedly, it took her some time to reach him, of which she is deeply sorry, but when she does, she grabs him, lifting him towards a nearby aclove of reckage. Not yet flooded, there is a collapsed piece of roofing over them which for now should at least shelter them from the awful, thunderous rain.

She is reminded of Ganondorf and the terror he would spread. Of how he would kill in ways like this. But she would not give in, and she would not leave Arthur here to drown. Once she is sure he is safe, she checks him instinctively, to see if he is breathing or if he needs CPR. Her voice is quiet, and very concerned.

"Arthur. Arthur? Can you hear me? I'm going to put a piece of clothing on you now if you don't respond."

Never in her life had she been so glad she'd taken to carrying the Tunic that allows one to breathe underwater with her, or that she'd taken the time to earn those scales to become the best possible diver and swimmer that she could be.

all you need to know is purple is bad and I can't shut up

[handpuppeeet.livejournal.com]

"Home"? That wasn't a concept that Ankh had. There was a familiar city filled with familiar faces, and a base of operations at Cous Coussier. That was all it was, so Ankh was largely unaffected.

Everything was destroyed. No surprise there. Eiji and him were both at the Tower with the belt and the medals; even if they couldn't become whole, without OOO, the other Greeed could still easily have their way with the world. Their medals were gone forever as far as they knew. They must have gone on a rampage to fill the gap. And that meant destroying everything in their futile attempt to become whole again.

And now everything was leveled. Destroyed. Massacred. And so on. Cous Coussier was gone, the Kougami Foundation building was destroyed. Hina and Chiyoko were probably dead. Everyone was probably dead, or close to dead. Figures. He didn't care. Not like it was an unfamiliar sight. Good riddance, in a way.

So now he was stuck by himself in this dump of a wasteland, without any idea where Eiji was. Shouldn't he have come back with him? Maybe the new idiot behind the scenes had messed something else up. That wasn't surprising. So Ankh simply stepped around the rubble, walking to who the hell knew where. Standing around wasn't going to get him anywhere. If anything it meant the Greed would be able to find him sooner.

But then one of them already knew where he was. And they always knew where he was.

His body-- that stupid goddamn imposter--was there leading the charge, of course. They were both more incomplete than any of the others. Most of the destruction must have been his fault-- in fact, maybe the other Greeed are already gone. Absored. And as much as he hates to admit it-- this time he has no choice but to run. Eiji isn't here to fight him off, and his imposter is angry-- furious, insatiable. Here's the chance for him to be complete, for Ankh to be his own, complete, singular entity. Finally.

Except that's stupid. It's imposisble. Without that last medal from OOO it's impossible--

No, running is impossible. It's futile. That's stupid. Doesn't he want to be whole?

No.

His body has already caught up with him. And he is so fucking tired of running. Doesn't matter. He feels weak but there's a chance and he will never give up. Not to this bastard. Especially not to this bastard.

His mind is racing. There's too many thoughts. Too many that aren't his but come from his own mind.

No, he keeps thinking. Keeps thinking goddamnit until he closes his eyes and the last thing he sees is black.

And yellow. And green and red. Eiji?

No.

Purple too.

But it's on his side.

He gives up.

[hoboherooo.livejournal.com]

Hey. Hey imposter.

There's an open gate nearby, and there's another OOO, gunning for you with an axe.

[2toadstoolsdown.livejournal.com]

His phone is empty. No matter how long Rory stares at it or tries to program his mum's number, Finn's number, anyone's, it just beeps at him. He's walks through the halls of McKinley, backpack slung over his shoulder and he doesn't get a single reaction. There's no where've you been Rory? We missed you! There's no oh god, Rory, are you okay? Not even a simple eyebrow raise of recognition.

He does get slammed into the lockers every time he passes a single person wearing the red and white of the Titans. He's still pinned against walls and threatened, still beaten every chance someone gets. But there's no one there to stroke his cheek and tell him he'll be fine this time around.

When he flees to the choir room, desperate to ind some sort of solace, the door is locked. He peeks into the window and finds everyone smiling, singing, having the time of their lives.

There's just enough chairs for them. No extras.

No room.

[craaaaaaaazy8s.livejournal.com]

Vriska didn't really know what she was doing. She'd managed to walk through so many arbitrary doors and end up in other worlds. But this was the first time she'd wandered into one alone. Somehow she'd lost sight of all the people she'd met up with, but that was fine. She wasn't sure how much longer she could put up with Terezi or Karkat or Molly.

But this place she'd stepped into was... Strange. Humans everywhere, which was never a surprise because it seemed like everyone was human, and violent acts she hadn't really been sure they were capable of. Sure, she had seen human movies and they had violence, but all of that was staged. She thought she needed to reconsider her takes on humans being a gentle race, based on some of the things she saw as she passed through the halls. Her wings flutter in agitation, leaving trails of dust from door to door as she tries each of them to get out of this world.

She wasn't sure whose it was, and she didn't particularly care. No one was here with her making her help but... Maybe she needed to help. This could be a chance to make up for her recent nasty streak. She knew it wouldn't wipe it away, but it could probably help. It could help tilt the scales closer to balanced. Well, if she found the person this dream belonged to before she found the door out, she'd help them out.

Someone's shoulder bumped into her, and she bristled in their direction. "Hey, watch it!"

fun times incorporated

[begin0peration.livejournal.com]

Nothing works anymore.

Fran comes back to her home just as she left it - clamoring with the sick and the needy and the diseased. What's wrong isn't some fundamental new problem with the world - oh, no, it had all the problems it needed already.

The problem is with Fran herself.

She can't.. operate right, anymore. She knows all the procedures and the cures and how to cut just so. But when she tries to actually employ it, nothing works.

She's watched more hearts beat their last in this short stint home than she had in her entire previous career.

Usually Fran can overcome anything, with a little effort and some creative thinking. It isn't that there's a problem here that she can isolate and overcome. She's the problem. It's her head, her mind -

She's got a screw loose, and she can't fix it because she can't fix anything now.

[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

Paris.

The rush of familiarity, the feeling of finally being home had nearly overwhelmed her when the darkness faded and she found herself standing in the familiar streets.

She first noticed something was off when she passed the baker who had always been fond of her, knowing what she was. Francisca had chirped a hello to him, but he'd simply glanced at her and scowled, muttering something under his breath before practically demanding her to buy something or go.
Trying not to be affected, she'd politely declined and continued homeward.

Needless to say, it was... disturbing, when the people who had grown used to her existence, the ones who had come to enjoy having France as a neighbor as well as their beloved nation, all showed the same disgust and annoyance at her reappearance. The little girl who always played jumprope close to Francisca's home had stuck her tongue out and all but screamed that she hated France.

Francisca found herself hurrying home, grateful the door was unlocked.

When she stepped into the kitchen, intent on some coffee though...

All her things were gone.

Crockery, food, the quirky little framed embroidery she'd gotten as a grudging birthday present from England... All gone.

There were muffled voices in her house as well. Dread building in her stomach, Francisca ran upstairs to her study, tearing open the door to find her neighboring countries there - Germany paid her no mind, murmuring in her soft voice about how the land (land? What land?) should be divided, Prussia loudly claiming that she should get the majority since she'd been the one to "deal with the vain bitch" for millenia. North Italy huffed and slammed her hand on the table, complaining that she and her twin needed the land more than the Germans, Romana sneering as she commented that she didn't want any of France anyway - she'd always hated the nation, the thought of having any of it for her own made her skin crawl. Spain laughed, placating everyone by saying they could just evenly split the land amongst them - everyone had tasted a piece of that defiled flesh more than once after all.

It was England who finally noticed France, lifting her gaze from the map to stare at the woman, lip curling in an expression of pure loathing that Francisca had never seen before. "Why the bloody hell are you back?"

Francisca sputtered, "I-I've been sent back from the Tower - Chiara knows what I mean-"

Romana scoffed. "Idiota - have you been drinking yourself to death all this time? Why am I not surprised... probably sleeping with every man and his dog too."

Germany raised a brow and added, "That's what she always does. Why do you think her own people don't want to be French anymore?"

England waved an irrate hand at France. "We're busy - go back to the gutter you crawled out of."

Francisca wanted to be angry. She wanted to scream and tell them to get out of her house but her throat wasn't working that way. She was so tired and instead of the warm homecoming she'd hoped for after so many months in that Tower...

"What..." she licked her lips and continued, "What are you doing?"

Spain's smile was sweet, but her eyes were cold and gleaming with hatred. "Stupid girl, can't you see? You were gone for so long and the world realized that we were better for it. Even your people."

England's sharp voice all but pierced her heart as she clarified, "There is no France anymore. We're dividing the land between us."

"Just disappear."

The floor was painfully jarring on her knees as she crumpled down... and then she couldn't feel the floor. In fact, she could see the floor through her knees and skirt. With a cry she held up her hand to her face, and saw it growing more and more transparent by the second. Tears rolled down her eyes and she lifted her head, ready to beg for help, when the breath froze in her lungs.

They looked so... satisfied.

They were tearing her apart, forcing her to fade away, and they were happy about it.

Rage, hot and painful grew in her chest until it burst from her in a scream akin to that of a dying beast, and the sound echoed throughout the house as she completely faded into nothing.

oh my god why do i write so much

[f0rceless.livejournal.com]

It was so bright. Bright white light, bright light white. The light didn't cease after the initial instant; all of the walls were white. That seemed to be a common theme, but these white walls were unfamiliar. This room was unfamiliar. Wasn't he supposed to be back home?

He glanced down; Ven was sitting on a chair. A large chair. Almost a throne. Blank white. It made him kind of uncomfortable. It was unfamiliar and he simply didn't like the feel of this place. It wasn't light or dark and he wanted to go home.

Ven jumped off the throne and ran out of the room. He darted out of the building--a large castle it turned out. He wasn't sure how big it was; all of the hallways looked the same. It let out into a wide, open, empty field. It was unsettling; they must have dropped him in the wrong spot. Aqua was probably at home, waiting. Maybe Terra would be too, even if that was far more unlikely. Regardless, Ven slapped the pauldron on his shoulder, the armor appearing on his body, and with the help of his keyblade, he flew off into the Lanes Between.

He didn't know what direction the Land of Departure was in; but a cursory glance around as he flew, he saw various planets in the distance. A lot of them, actually! He grinned under the helmet; he had been right, there was no way all of the worlds could have been destroyed! It had been ten years since he had seen most of them, but it was better late than never to go visit them, and surely he could spare the time. Were Herc and Zack already heroes by now? What kind of treasure had Peter Pan and the Lost Boys found? Wonder if Lea and Isa were still sneaking into the castle....

Ven chose one and landed; Olympus Coliseum. He looked inside; Herc was far taller and much more muscular. He was amazed. Looks like he was a bona fide hero now; he greeted him, but Herc didn't recognize him. He asked about Zack, and he got hostile. He shouted at him, told him to leave. It wasn't his business.

Had it really been so long?

Ven left, as he was asked. He stopped by Neverland. Peter and the Lost Boys, they looked exactly the same, for whatever reason. They'd definitely recognize him, right? Ven greeted them cheerfully. He was actually about to ask why the wooden keyblade wasn't in their treasure chest-- but they were immediately hostile when he mentioned the treasure. How did he know about it, they asked. Had they stolen it? He must have been working for Hook.

Ven left of his own accord that time.

He still couldn't find Land of Departure, or Aqua. No one recognized him. He stopped in Disney Town and he asked the triplets about the Ice cream Machine. They accused him of working with that no good Pete to steal the prize again. He peaked in on Yen Sid, and Donald and Goofy were suspicious when he knew about King Mickey and the Star Shard. He went to visit Jaq, and the mouse just got angry before he even asked a question; none of it was any of his business, get out of here! You'll attract the cat!

No one knew him.

He ended up in Radiant Garden and collapsed in the main square, sitting off to the side against the wall. Maybe he could take a break for now.

A familiar blue creature crawled by; it took him a minute and he realized-- Stitch! Had this been where he landed after they split up? A small grin came to Ven's face as he called out to him; he twitched and looked back at Ven, and watched carefully. Did he recognize him?

No. A moment of silence and Stitch growled, whipping out his plasma gun and pointing it at Ven. He gasped and dodged out of the way. He left after that.

Listlessly, Ven landed in the Keyblade Graveyard. Plopped down in the giant dead field, leaning against some unknown weapon, long since forgotten. He still couldn't find the Land of Departure. Couldn't find Aqua. Couldn't even find Master Xehanort. Even seeing him, being acknowledged by the man that had ruined their lives would make him feel better and at least confirm that he still existed. That someone knew who he was.

Even Vanitas would at least be company right now.

He sat and lamented. And when he still couldn't find the urge to go anywhere, a wisp of darkness came out of him, taking shape in midair, forming into a floating, blue and black creature. It was lonely too.

hey, hey, hey ven, bigsislulots :C

[prayerless.livejournal.com]

Aqua had been passively paying attention to the network every since the incident with Ienzo. She hadn't posted anything -- that would have required some figuring out, since technology was far from Aqua's strong point -- but seeing mention of "home" made her take pause. That was impossible. She couldn't speak for any of the others, but Aqua had no home anymore, as painful as that was to acknowledge. She'd long ago decided to use what was left of her home to make sure that Ven was safe.

Finding the door in the cafeteria was a matter of word of mouth. Listening carefully yielded talk of it eventually. Aqua didn't waste any time in approaching it, and only little on examining it before entering.

Aqua wasn't sure what she had expected, but the Keyblade Graveyard was not it. She felt an uncomfortable lurch in her chest at the sight of the yawning chasms of rock both above and beneath her. Distant memories of battles long since irrelevant surfaced in her mind; she cautiously turned to hazard a look behind her, to ensure that nothing is there.

When her survey brought no results, Aqua faced forward again to begin the trek between the huge faces of rock that led further into the Badlands. Emerging from them brought her within view of swirling vortexes of dust, just as she encountered the last time she had come here. She fixed a stony expression on her face, tightening her fingers around Master Keeper's handle. She wasn't in the mood to deal with Unversed, but if Ven was on the other side of this valley, she'd do it.

Wordlessly, she surged forward, Aero magic swirling to life at her feet to propel her towards the tornadoes.

By the time she had cleared the valley of all the possessed twisters, Aqua was weary, and covered with more than her fair share of grime from the perpetual dust storms of the Badlands. She emerged from the chasm out into the field where so many Keyblade wielders had once been struck down, and felt a tug in her heart for them. She and her friends were lucky that their Keyblades were not among those that shaped the crossroads.

As she took the road that led to the intersection, a figure in the distance shaped itself, and her eyes widened. The young Master accordingly quickened her pace to get a better look.

Ven.

She broke out into a full-on run when she realized who it was, blinking dirt from her eyes and kicking it up in her wake. Alarm set in at the sight of the creature next to him; she skidded to a stop mere feet away from her friend, holding the Master Keeper at the ready. "Ven!" prompted Aqua. "Ven, are you okay?"

[ryuuzaki]

L doesn't feel pleasure or excitement at being sent home. There's been no reversal of the "official" position that his world was destroyed, and he doesn't yet understand how the abductions have been accomplished. Even without the events of the previous few days, the scary show that has been performed for the captives in the tower, he would still be skeptical of what the return might mean.

The first sensation is that of the cold pavement against the soles of his bare feet.

It's Tokyo, but not the Tokyo he left. The next thing he notices is that an energy is lacking among the people who pass him on the street; they're subdued, almost to the point of being furtive. Then, he sees that there are fewer of them all together, as if the population density of the city has declined. The streets are cleaner, even, than he remembered, and the reason soon becomes clear.

The signs aren't everywhere--Light is more subtle than that, or his current followers are (which would set them apart from the early ones, the ratings hounds at Sakura). It's hard to say how direct Light's responsibility is. Turning one way, L sees a large sign, but turning the other, he has to crane his neck to see a small one. LORD KIRA IS WATCHING. DON'T LET HIM DOWN. The typeface is almost tasteful and the admonition is repeated in three languages. He walks down one block in what he's sure is the direction of his headquarters... it had been around here somewhere... which brings him to a new sign. ARE YOU A GOOD PERSON? Up and down the street, even on some of the screens that change to flash images of the latest idols, smiling to show how clean their mouths are, how clean yours would be if you would just--LOVE KIRA, OUR SAVIOR--yes, even there, the slogans show. He has no trouble identifying whose city this is, even if he doubts that many of its citizens would recognize Kira if they met him on the street.

How it happened... does it matter? Some link in the chain must have been broken. Roger hadn't received his communication, or he had, and no one had been able to see the fight through to the end. For curiosity's sake, he'd like to know, although changing it... changing it will take some doing. It seems unlikely that all this has been accomplished in the few weeks he's been held in the Tower, so he can only assume that, if it's real... and it does seem real... time has passed. Years. This could only be the status quo that came after all Kira's plans came to fruition, and that couldn't have happened overnight.

He's been too stunned to feel much dismay, but when he realizes where he is, a knot of anger and frustration takes heavy shape in his stomach. The headquarters should be here, but it's another building entirely. The money doesn't bother him... but the loss of his own tower leaves him rootless, without a clear place to start. There's another safe house, but not within walking distance. Even if it hadn't been identified as his, it still might be gone.

In this situation, he'd have to go to ground. But that depended on contacting whoever was left, without drawing negative attention to himself, without access to any of his resources. He has no money in his pockets, no telephone, no shoes, no jacket for the winter weather, and certainly no way to get out of Japan safely, or to shield himself, apart from anonymity.

He wonders if Light still allows the homeless to live in the public parks.

He wonders how difficult it will be, under Kira's presumably all-seeing gaze, to steal a bicycle.

[brotherseyes.livejournal.com]

Nina almost lost track of how long she stood in the front of the elevator shaft, staring at the note in front of her. Please rescue them, it beseeched her, and it was hard not to imagine a pleading note in the words, despite the neatness they were written it. She peered down the shaft but saw nothing but darkness, and no hint of what might be beyond. Stepping into the empty elevator shaft felt deeply counter intuitive, but no other course of action made sense, and there was no telling how long the opportunity to help the people who had been taken would last. She would have to act now if she wanted to have any hope of helping anyone. And Nina was going to try to help them. She had to. Her conscience would not allow her to simply abandon them to whatever cruel fate they had been abducted to.

She took a deep breath and moved forward, and the next thing she knew, Nina was outside. She was in a place she recognized only from movies and television and tiny captioned pictures in her World History textbook, but even with that level of exposure to downtown Tokyo, everything felt completely wrong. First, and most obviously, there were far too few people. It wasn't as crowded as she would have expected such a big city to be, and everywhere around her, the people acted strangely. Some walked with their heads down. Others shot oddly furtive glances at her, with too much fear in their eyes to be mistaken for mere curiosity.

Something was desperately wrong, and Nina felt an unpleasant shiver creep slowly up her spine. What's going on? she wondered. Was it the Tower's poor imitation of Tokyo, or something even more sinister? Was this where everyone who'd been taken away had been sent? Why?

There were a few signs she couldn't read, not knowing Japanese, but most of them were translated into enough different languages that Nina could make out their cryptic (to her) messages. The suggestion that someone was watching your every move seemed like something the people in charge of the entities Tower... or the weird thing that seemed to have taken control instead... would do, but something about it didn't feel the same as the Tower's cryptic games and messages. It was all too neat, too organized, and too straightforward, without enough guessing games or deliberate obfuscation. She had never heard anyone mention "Lord Kira" before. The entire feel of the city around her was simply wrong, and something in her gut twisted every time she locked eyes with any of the people around her. It was like something was missing inside their soul, although Nina couldn't say what it was.

Nina moved at twice the speed of anyone else around her, traversing streets and alleyways, desperately seeking anyone who looked familiar or even seemed like they didn't belong in such a strange place. Anyone who looked lost, or panicking, or like they somehow didn't belong.

Her hurried pace and purposeful gait made her stick out like a sore thumb even more than her blonde hair and blue eyes did, but Nina wasn't expecting to need to blend in right now. She just wanted to get to the bottom of this. So even as Nina may her way toward a quiet-looking nearby park, she was on full alert. Maybe, she reflected, she was sent here to look for someone specific. Someone from whom Tokyo held special importance. But who? Who had she met who was from Tokyo or even seemed like they might be?

The sudden sight of a lone, hunched figure, sitting on a bench, answered her question for her.

Nina approached him quickly and as quietly as she could.

"Ryuuzaki!" she said, softly but not quite in a whisper, as soon as she was standing directly behind the park bench.

All alone with no where to turn.

[groovy_mutation]

He's back in his mansion again, the school, but there's no one here. None at all. Charles can't feel the minds of the children... no Alex, Sean or Hank. Everything is eerily quiet, all but the sound of his wheelchair as he moves through the hallways. He'll stretch his mental reach as far as he can, looking for them... for anyone really. Nothing.

It's then he ends up in Hank's lab, in the back area of it, sees the prototype Cerebro he's making. Or had been making. It seemed finished now. It couldn't hurt to test it out to find where they'd gone to even see if Erik might have been sent back as well. And so getting it all set up he'll feel the initial jolt as his mind seems open up, to expand and he can reach further, all over the world. It always amazed him. And there. THERE. He can see them, touch their minds. But something is amiss, something is wrong.

Alex is speaking to someone and he'll move gently into his mind, to see and hear what was going on.

"But what about the professor? When and if he shows up again, huh? What are we going to do about that? I mean... they're going to find the school. The humans will find it and if he's there they're going to kill him." He sounds worried, but a little upset too. As if it had been expected all along, that one day they'd be found and hunted down like animals.

"Charles made his choice. There is no turning back." The voice belonged to a man wearing a helmet, a man with cold eyes and a stern face. Erik. But this Erik wasn't the Erik he'd known. He seemed colder.

"But we can't just leave him--"

"He would have us putting our heads to the chopping block for the humans. If that is what he wants then he and he alone can do that, I will not allow the Brotherhood to suffer for his ideal that we can live peacefully with humanity." Erik turns away from the younger mutant, cape framing his shoulders and waterfalling down his back.

"We have nothing to fear any longer, and there is no point in risking all of that for the one man who cannot see how blind he is in his desire to be like them. Humanity will find out soon enough how it feels to be despised and hunted, all of the world will know it." And Alex goes to retort but Charles is pulling back from his mind, shocked and appalled at Erik's words. This wasn't Erik... this couldn't be. It's for curiosity and fear of what Erik had threatened that has him once more reaching his mind out, and he pushes Cerebro as hard as it can go, feeling for the minds of all the mutants in the world.

... and they're all together. Together with Erik. The Brotherhood.

All but him.

He was alone and Erik was going to leave him to the CIA's hounds that were searching for his school. Charles lifts Cerebro from his head and hands run through his hair, gripping, and he feels fear gripping him. What was this madness and how had it happened? Erik had been with him all along in the Tower and yet... and yet he was back home and everything had fallen apart, as much as the world hadn't been destroyed, it felt like his own little world had been.

He'd never felt so utterly alone and helpless in his life. Hands come down to rub at his face and he tries to think of something, anything. Should he try to contact Erik through the boys? Should he try to work something out with the CIA? What should he do? But he knew that either option was dead to him, as much as he wanted to try, he knew there was nothing he could do. And so he just sits there, motionless, besides the tears slowly working down his cheeks.

[token_vengeance]

So he had found the damn door. Erik had known that Charles hadn't been sent back to their world; while he had no proof, none of it had felt right...too many people had felt the same way, as well.

So for a day he searched, reached out, trying to feel any sense of the other man's wheel chair, of him. Kept his mind open and clear in case Charles reached out mentally.

Nothing. Then suddenly, a message on a door. Erik only hesitated long enough to grab his helmet, then he was pushing through the door.

Yes, it was a rash move, one without a plan, one without any worry about what was on the other side. It didn't matter to him. Trap or not, he knew that he would find Charles--and that's all that mattered.

Traps, even ones made specifically made for him, were nothing. Nothing compared to his will, his drive.

He would find Charles. And they would get out.

The second Erik passed through the door, he found himself on the grounds of the Xavier Mansion, watching the strange tableau. Of CIA agents descending on the house, guns drawn. Cars surrounding the area, helicopters flying.

It may or may not have been real. It may have been just something that the Tower produced.

It didn't matter. Charles was most likely in the Mansion, and he was under attack. By idiot humans.

Slipping on his helmet (he wasn't taking any chances), Erik sprung into action, and began his own attack.

First the helicopters were taken down, his own rage and anger feeding his power, and that desire to protect Charles. Sending them flying into the cars, he started to run into the throng of agents.

From here it was a blur, of stopped and redirected metal, of people screaming, blood flying. He showed no mercy, as they would show no mercy to them.

By the end Erik was covered in blood not his own, and was the only living soul he could feel outside. So he moved into the mansion, taking off his helmet, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach that he was too late.

"Charles?! Charles! Answer me, damn it!"

TL;DR: Namine Is A Bad Person Who Ruined Everything (1/2 oh boy)

[lethechained.livejournal.com]

The darkness that greeted her made her believe for a moment that her eyes were still closed. The more she blinked and rubbed her eyes and turned this way and that way, the more she realized that this was no illusion. The fact that she could see her hands in front of her when she looked down at them, raised in front of her, was proof enough that she could still see. Even then, her mind protested - where could she possibly be, for everything around her to be nothing but endless black?

Perhaps... perhaps this was Kairi's heart. But-- Kairi's heart had no darkness. Surely it would not look like this. And yet that was the only answer Naminé could come up with, as the seconds turned into minutes and still, there was nothing but the endless darkness. Had this been her fault? Had she somehow tainted the heart of her Other? The very thought knocked the breath right out of her lungs, and suddenly, urgently, she reached out with her powers, searching for evidence, any evidence, of what was truly going on. It had been so long since she'd used them that, though long ago they might have been second nature, now it was only after recovering from her initial bewilderment that the thought occurred to her. Her powers found only evidence that this was indeed Kairi's heart. So, somehow, Naminé had completed her return to her Somebody.

She was whole.

She was whole. She was whole. Desperately and in vain she tried to grasp that thought, to make it real, to somehow reconcile this dark abyss with the wholeness she'd forced herself to believe in, that - an even more excruciating thought - she'd tried convince Roxas to believe in. But this-- this endless and empty place was nothing like what she'd hoped for. And if she was here, more thoroughly isolated and incarcerated than in any place before, then what of Roxas? Was it the same for him? What had happened to Kairi, to Sora? Were Nobodies truly never meant to rejoin their Somebodies? Had she made some horrible mistake? Nothing was proven, and yet already the guilt threatened to consume her.

She wasn't certain how long it had been - minutes, hours - but her agony was still all too fresh when she felt something in her surroundings change. It was subtle at first, a faint and distant rumbling, and then all in one rush great streaks of lightning split through the darkness, so harsh and violently bright as to make her shield her eyes.

When at last the earsplitting noise ceased, it was replaced by a silence so complete that for a moment it seemed almost as loud. Beneath her was cold ground, solid and familiar in a way that sent chills creeping down her spine before she so much as opened her eyes. When at last she did, she saw the white walls of Castle Oblivion before her. Her first and severe urge was to leap to her feet, but her legs seemed to have turned to jelly, and she found that her quivering limbs had not the strength to raise her from the position in which she'd landed, sprawled on the ground. It was only after a few panicked seconds that she mustered the wherewithal to control her body enough to force it to stand her up. The edges of her vision seemed to teem with spectres of dark, hooded figures as she turned her head, desperately searching for any indication that she was not alone, and found none.

(2/2 I am so sorry just scroll on by ;;) repost

[lethechained.livejournal.com]

She didn't stay there long. Confused and afraid, she conjured what was probably the most slipshod portal she'd ever managed to make that was still functional and ran through it, shuddering at the feeling of the darkness around her once more but not stopping until she'd come out the other side and was stumbling across the sand of Destiny Islands.

It was deserted. At least, that was what she believed at first, when the portal had only just closed and she was practically spinning in her attempts to seek out any other lifeform. The portal she'd made just before she'd been taken by the tower should have sent everyone else there. But, she reminded herself harshly, time had obviously passed since she'd left. There was no reason for them to stay on this particular island. Once she'd had a moment to collect her thoughts, she reached out with her powers once more, seeking the hearts she knew best.

They weren't there.

Never before had they been so far out of her reach (anywhere but in the tower) that even when she expended as much effort as she was capable of she could not find even the barest hint of their presence. It was an exercise in futility, but again and again she reached out, again and again she sought the familiar memories, but again and again she failed. Just as she was about to give in, she discovered the heart of her Other. It was so close by that she couldn't believe she hadn't found it sooner, but a brief brush against it told her that there was a good reason. It was... wrong. So, so wrong.

She found Kairi in the Secret Place.

The redhead was on her back, still as death, her eyes open and staring. If not for the faint rise and fall of her chest, Naminé would almost have been convinced that the other girl was deceased.

Kairi's heart was nearby, hovering low to the ground. Naminé did not approach it; she did not need to to be able to see how the darkness had ravaged it, how its once strong light was muted and gray. Numbly, she wondered why it had stayed. Perhaps it was simply too damaged to return from whence it came. Naminé was afraid to touch it, lest it break, but in her desperation made only the concession to seek the memories within it with her talent to try to find out what had transpired.

The more she saw, the harder it was to breathe. She watched through Kairi's eyes as both Naminé herself and Roxas rejoined their Somebodies, as Xemnas made his return, as Sora and Riku stood against him... and perished, as the King and Donald and Goofy returned through the portal in time only to keep Xemnas at bay long enough for Kairi to escape before being defeated themselves, as the Heartless swarmed Destiny Islands and sought out the hearts of the inhabitants, including Kairi's, which, upon being assaulted, was nearly torn asunder by the darkness both from the outside and the darkness that her wretched Nobody had unintentionally brought into her formerly pure heart.

Naminé did not feel her own tears until suddenly she was on her knees in the dirt, sobbing into her hands. It was vehemently that she cursed herself, that she lamented her own existence, that she hated her own greed. If she had not so thoroughly ruined Sora's memories, she never would have had to take so long to repair them, and he could have spent all of that time better preparing to fight Xemnas. Riku would never have had to spend all that time working to assure his friend's recovery. If Naminé hadn't encouraged Roxas to return to his Other he might have been able to help them. If she hadn't returned to Kairi, that wreckage of a heart might still be intact. If Naminé hadn't caused all of that, Terra, Aqua, and Ventus might still have had someone to save them.

If only Naminé had never existed.

[thursdaywings.livejournal.com]

He was a celestial wavelength again, outside of Jimmy Novak's body. The devout man was nowhere to be found, and Castiel was worried he wouldn't be able to find another vessel in time to find Sam and Dean and assist them in stopping the apocalypse-

Dean.

He killed Dean. In the tower. Dean the faceless. And Dean didn't return to the tower.

Perhaps he was killed and revived back on Earth.

Spreading his Grace, he searched for Jimmy first, hoping to at least have an inkling of where his vessel might be. But there was no Jimmy, not even Claire, Jimmy's daughter, who has the same vessel bloodline as her father.

There was no one on Earth.

Castiel grew even more worried, reaching out for the Winchesters, for Dean.

Instead, he felt the Grace of the second-eldest, Lucifer, bound in Sam Winchester's body, and the countless demons surrounding him. Michael was no where to be found, and Gabriel and Raphael were missing as well.

No, no, no, no…

It was just as he feared.

The Apocalypse had begun.

[romcomedian.livejournal.com]

White noise.

Its a black room, cold as steel, filled with nothing but the awkward thrum of computer screens and desktops that tickles the base of the neck. Its almost impossible to see -- that is, if you're using your eyes. The only light in the room comes from the monitors, but the light is enough to see some strange things.

Those with a keen sense of smell will notice something immediately. The air is thick with heat and the smell of copper. The farther you step into the dreamspace, the more clear it becomes that something very wrong is happening. If you don't slip on it first, you might notice that the room isn't as quite as gray as you thought. In fact, its covered in several different colors of some coagulated substance.

Blood. Its everywhere. Hunter Green, Blue, Purple, Indigo...Red. The bodies (http://img576.imageshack.us/img576/5090/altbloodline.png) that match them are scattered, sprawled and deceased. Teal, Brown, Jade and Candy Red are noticeably absent from the slaughter.

And then there's cerulean. This puddle is fresh and it leads in a trail around the room. Its light in some spots, heavy in others. The longer you follow it, the harder the darkness seems to swallow you until you come to a great pool of it.

Then the giggling begins. The crazed, high-pitched and strangely benign titter of laughter seems to come from nowhere, fading in and out from various corners of the room. Its impossible to pinpoint any direction, and you might swear you hear the sound of something heavy being dragged along the ground.

Karkat is pinned against a wall, his once well-pressed clothes shredded like paper to leave deep scores in his skin. All trails of cerulean liquid lead to him. The state of his body suggests he's been stabbed multiple times over the course of several hours. His body shakes, his eyes are wide in terror -- he can't see, he can't hear anything but that horrible giggling, and he he's been rendered immobile. Occasionally, a scream echoes far in the distance -- screams of familiar friends, of their dying cries. Each one pulls a flinch from the cerulean troll, but that seems to be the only response he'll offer.

Everyone is dead. Everyone except Karkat...and the invisible demon who flits about the room unseen.

In fact, now that you think about it, that giggling sounds pretty familiar too, doesn't it? Did you perhaps catch a glimpse of teal (http://ib.skaia.net/image/7719.png) out of the corner of your eye?

[foretolds.livejournal.com]

Of course Terezi has noticed the goings-on in the Tower, especially that message about people being sent home. Apparently she wasn't one of the lucky ones, but it wasn't hard to notice that Karkat was gone. They did have rooms right across from one another, after all, and even if she was trying her hardest to avoid him, it was pretty much impossible not to see him at all.

And then the door in the cafeteria appeared, and Terezi couldn't help but panic a bit. She was furious at Karkat, yes--he was an immature, thoughtless asshole--but she still cared about him, even if she couldn't trust him as far as she could throw him. So she'd scoured the Tower, to no avail, and had finally made up her mind to go through the door.

The first thing that strikes her is that it's like the Veil, down to the soft whir of the computers and the cold, slippery scent of steel. And then there are the bodies, different from her friends but smelling so, so similar. The match Karkat's descriptions perfectly--Sollux, his scent so strange and warped as a highblood, but still recognizable. And Nepeta, smelling of mulberries just like Feferi did. There's The grief that she still hasn't dealt with threatens to well up on her, but she shoves it away. She's seen this before. She's seen worse in her time as Seer. These aren't her friends.

And then she catches her own scent, or close to it. It's a strange combination of herself and Aradia, and though she's seen herself die a million times in her visions, smelling it up close and personal like this is so deeply bizarre and unsettling that she moves on immediately.

The giggling is different, and strangely disturbing. Terezi does her best to ignore that, too, though she moves as stealthily as possible through the darkened hallways of the lab. Her stomach sinks when she catches the scent of blueberries, so familiar and thick that she nearly chokes on it. Karkat is here, and he's most definitely hurt.

[wwaterboy]

Eridan looked around as two huge brutes of blue bloods grab him by the arms, a whole phalanx of them surrounding him. "Salt licker," one of them sneers. "You're going to hang for this."

"Wwhat?" Eridan struggles, but he can't reach his knife, and one of the guards start to strip him of his belt, tossing the oyster-shelling knife far away.

Another catches him by the chin, smirking, and runs a fingertip up Eridan's fin, making him squeal and squirm with terror. "You should have kept running, feral. Should have stayed away. We know you did it, just look at you."

Eridan looks down at himself, and sees the yellow blood spattering his clothes. "No! I nevver did! I didn't kill Sol!" he protests, as they drag him towards the punishment gibbet. Another comes with the irons, heated to a red glow, and he screams as they clap them on his unprotected skin and haul him up to hang beside another unfortunate sea dweller.

But the pain is nothing to that he feels when he sees who's hanging beside him. Feferi's head lolls limply - she's already succumbed to the torture, and tyrian blood drips steadily from the wounds they placed on her fragile body.

"You weren't there to protect her," one of the blues says with a laugh, as he runs a hand up under Eridan's shirt, taking his time. "And there's no one to protect you."

[allthefeelings.livejournal.com]

Alternia. Wow he...didn't expect to end up here, of all places. But it clearly can't be his version, due to that one being destroyed. Which means it must belong to someone else in the tower. With any luck, he won't run into the version of himself here, he can pretend to be someone else better, and he can avoid all the stupid shit that goes on in the tower. Good stuff.

He first notices something is off by the kinds of looks he's getting. They aren't fearful, so much as a weird mixture of irritated and dismissive.

The second useful indication is the point where a couple of bluebloods push him into an alley, kick him a few times, and steal all of his rings. Ragged, desperate-looking bluebloods. Attacking HIM.

Clue number three is the point where, after a bit of practise sidling and looking as unassuming as possible, he makes it to the edge of a main area, and sees himself and--oh god--Fef hanging from a gibbet. Holy shit. Okay. He isn't sure what the hell shitty lowblood him could have done, but nobody gets to kill Eridan Ampora, even if it's a different version of him. Except, er, Kanaya.

He finger combs his hair out of its gel, forward over the purple streak, and ties his scarf so it covers his symbol. Now what...