This… this probably came from spending too much time on DeviantArt… yeah, that's probably part of it… and binge watching Game of Thrones… and Black Sails… hey don't look at me like that. Cmon, stop.
Anyway, Im thinking this may end up being a sort of experiment for me to mix things up. Hell, maybe even make quest chapters if it becomes a fic.
|-| Walker |-|
Normally, ending up in the middle of a desert that was who knew how many Leagues, Hectares, Kilometers, Miles- or whatever system this world used for measurement -wide would have been distressing. For me though, after all the other places I'd ended up in, it was really just old hat.
Hell, I hadn't even had to flee from any monstrous sand worms yet… So that was a plus, though I really wasn't sure what that said about me if I considered that a plus… probably nothing good.
Sighing, I tugged away the thin shawl that had kept me from going the way of the lobster from my time under the sun blazing overhead and dug into the satchel by my side; pushing aside bits and bobs that might have been of use and extricated my backup canteen.
Shaking it next to my ear I could only grimace at the light sloshing from within. "Its always something isn't it," I sighed, unscrewing the containers cap and raising it to my lips to take a sip.
It wasn't much, just enough to wet my mouth and make my thirst that much apparent. But it wasnt anything I couldnt handle and would have to tide me over for a good while. Depositing the now slightly emptier canteen back into my bag, swapping it for a granola bar and a monocular; the granola I tore open with my teeth and went to town, the monocular I put to my visor and looked out across the veritable sea of sand that stretched out below the towering dune I'd chosen to take pit stop on.
Sand dunes, small shrubs, sand dunes, some more shrubs, something that looked like a fox- if that was what it really was, for all I knew it could be some damned poisonous monstrosity like a platypus. Honestly, whoever thought it would be a good idea to introduce those things into north america got what they deserved by dieing to the damn things -and what looked like a solid portion of rock peeking out from behind a dune with the silhouette of what appeared to be a palm tree. Hopefully.
"Bingo."
Lowering the monocular I considered the distance to what I hoped would be my pit stop for the night, and the position of my eternal nemesis in the sky; the sun. I would need to hustle it but... "Meh, I can do it," and with that I crammed the rest of my granola bar into my mouth and shoved it's wrapper and the spyglass back into my bag.
Then, with a weary groan I picked up my bag and stood; slinging it over my neck in what had long since become a practiced motion. As I was adjusting its strap, however; I stopped, just staring out over the desert again and I raised my hands to frame the view.
"Oh yeah, this one'll be a keeper- definitely one for the wall," Reaching into my bag again I fished out my camera and raised it up to eye level to snap a shot of the view. Putting it back into the bag I smiled as I pulled my shawl back over my mouth and started trudging my way down from the dune with a hitch in my step. Even if this turned out to be a complete wash that picture would at least make it worth it.
"And oh I once was a pirate~"
I quietly sang as I settled into a steady pace; the collar and tails of my ratty duster fluttering gently in a breeze that blew past.
"Who sailed the worlds seas~"
|X/\X/X|X\X/\X|
With a weak, meaty thud she smashed her raw and bloody knuckles against the metal of her locker door. Against the door to her cage. Her coffin. Tears, fresh from both the uselessness of her efforts and the pain of them ran freely, she'd have thought they'd have dried up but there they were.
Her eyes stung and burned from the effort however; it was only in part due to the crying. Oh no, the other part was from the cloying, fetid stench of rotting waste that lined her locker and the vomit that ran down her front.
Taking a brief respite from her pounding, she pressed her forehead against the cold, blood slick metal above the small grate that let in fresh air before trying to scream for help again. But it was useless, always useless, she had screamed herself hoarse so that she couldn't even properly speak. But, try she she still did, that last glimmer of hope holding out against the crushing weight of the despair that threatened to break her.
"Please," she begged, her voice little more than a rasping whisper. "Just-" She froze, heavy footsteps coming from outside the door, this was her chance. With renewed vigour she pounded and banged at the door, rasped out pleas for help. Anything to draw the persons attention… but the footsteps just kept going. She was alone again, she was really just going to be left in here.
That little glimmer of hope that she'd held onto, that little glimmer that had driven her forward from day after day, broke.
In the dark confines of her locker she didn't even notice her vision twisting, blurring, distorting; as her legs buckled beneath her. She didn't even notice the black creeping in an engulfing her vision until all was gone.
Ḑ̯̱͎̗̬͇̠͚͈̠̩̗͔ͬ̎̀̒̓͋͗͟ͅe͚̖̭͕͕̎̊͛̅̀ͧ͌͐ͮ͛͡s̛̤̰͎̣̻̬ͦ̿̃͟ͅt̄̊̉̀͏͏̻͎̯̤̳͓̩̣͈̟͙̮̰̪i̴̢̙̠̩͈̣̤̲̦͖͉͉̱̝̖ͯͩ̊̐͗ͫ̎͑̈ͤ̐̀̉ͯ́͘n̶͎͔͖̤̪̩̦͖̩̝̰̬̹̞̰ͫͧ̆̑̍ͦ̕͢ȧ̢̧̱̘̯͈͇͈̤̦͍̿̽ͭ͋͆ͫ̒ͥ̋̂͑̉̆̑ͯ̽͞͞ͅt̴̛̮̱̺͖̺͈͚̝͍̾̅ͯ̄ͪͫ͟͟͡ͅi̧̙̫̼͈̺̫̠̠̩̙͙ͦ̏ͯ̋̈ͬ́̉̒ͨ̀́ộ͓̙̞̺̩͙̹̳̦̰͕͔̺̙ͬ̄̃̓̊͒ͬ̆͡ͅn̶̸̸̠̗̳̼̻̹̯̟̜̩̟͖̋̂̅͑̃ͭ̑ͤ̎ͮͣͪ̽̇ͨ̋ͦ͞ ̷̴̨̛̬̬̘̰͓͐̌̓ͫͯ̀̈ͬ̎̈́̇ͯ͗̾̾ͅA̡ͮ̔̎̒̈́ͣ́̈́͛ͨͭͪ̃͠͏͏̪͖̱̼̗̪̻͙̳̙̳̣̪͙̘̳͔̜ǧ̪̙̦̠̜̰͓͉̎̏̋̿ͪ̉̈̍ͣͬͦ̉ͭ̉̌̉̾́͝͞͡r͎̯̲̲̥̟̹̼ͥ̌͐͋͌̔ͮ̔ͬͬ̒̀ͧͤ̈ͤ͌ͣ̑́̕ẽ̉͆̍ͦ͑҉̻̖̥̥̙̥͔̠͎̥́̕͢ͅë̸̵̡̨͓̹͈̤͎͙̱̘̩̯́̀̌̑͑ͣͫ̔̍ͤ̇ͪ̏͗ͫ͆̑̕ͅm̵̸̪̹͕̳͎̭̤̗̮͐͐̅̊͛͊̂͊̇ͪ̇̉ͮ̉̚̚e̶̹͕̫͈̰̠̘͙̼̙̱͇ͪ̇̂͗͐͋̿ͤͧ̆̐̒̂̈ͬ͝ͅn͆ͮ͐ͪͯ̋̒͛͑ͤͭ̔ͮͭ̃̑̄͗҉̶͟͞͏̮̝̘̼͕̭͖̱̥̹tͦ͆̔͑̅҉͞҉̝̳̩͓͕͇̻͍̫͙̤̥̲͔ ̥̜̱̠̮̜̫̬̻̠̦̟̫̠̦͇̙͖ͮ̂̔͑͌ͮ͂̑̍̂ͪ̍͊́͜͠T͕̹̦̦̼̭͙͕̩̖͓͉̩̹̠̞͇̝́ͦ̇̇̿̃̄̋͒̐͂ͤ̂̿̕͞͞ͅr̶̺̖̲̥͓̻̙̜ͯ̓̓ͮ̓̆͛ͦͫ͊̀͐́ͫ̈ͧ̽̔̕a̸͌ͬ̍̓̓̂̿̒ͣͣͪ̎̿ͥ̕҉͔͙̭̠͎̻͖̺̜̼̤͚̭͕̪̝̯j̸̡̛̭͕̖ͮͣͣ̑̓͆͑̋̍̇ͮͪͯͅȅ̸̊ͣ̂͛̓ͫ͆ͤ̋̅͌̀ͥ̑ͯ͠҉͓̥̺̝̭̹͖͙̘͕͎c̨̔̽̐̍́ͬ͒̍̋ͨͮ͌̅͊͏̨̛͈͔͓̘̹̻̺͓͇̳͇̝̫̀ͅͅţ̴̱͍̯̬̱͖̫̝̈̅͆͐̇ͯ̀ͫ́͠ͅỏ̰̱̱̥͚̠̞̣̞̓̊̊̈́͐͞r̨̰̫͎̮̞̖̳̱͍̾̉ͨͥ̇ͬͯ̆͑́͢y̷̿̽ͯ́̑̅͋ͭ̈̄͒ͧͯͥ҉̳͎̞̠͙̘͕͉̜͍̠͡ ͋̎̔ͨ̎̄́̊̉̄̒͗ͣ͐̂ͦ̀̚҉̪̤͔͎̯̜̤͈̝̱̺͇̜̻̦̗̯͎Ả̷̧̧̨̤̪̘̙̟̤̖̺͚̻̖̜ͩͪg̶͌͊ͧ̐̾͋̋̔̚͘͟҉͚̬͉̗̮̲̮̝͙r͛̋̀̓ͧ̋͘҉̵̶͖͈̼̟̟ͅe̢̢͈̰̟͆̈͌ͤ̊ͦ́̈ͯ͐̿e͉̱̣̙̺̤̤̙͚̜̠͉͐̃ͤ̋̍ͮ̀͘͞m̥͉̗̞̌ͫͯͤͯ̀ͩͯ̈͒̽̽̈ͯ͒̀̕͠e͗ͫ̌͋̏ͮ͌ͦ̚͏͎̳̟́͝ņ̵̛̥͕͉͉̲̱̪̬̟̄̉͒͗͐͟ţ̷̙͇̲̦̙̻̥̱̺̪̟͕̱̩͚̒ͬ͒ͥͭ͋̉̌̐͗̇͟ͅ
The cold shocked her, but oddly it was the brief sensation of falling that startled her out of her daze. One instant she'd been in the locker, and the next she was struggling to swim back to the surface.
The sudden, all encompassing chill of the frigid water was a shock to the system. To be certain. But oddly, it was the brief sensation of falling just before that that startled her out of her daze. One instant she'd been in the locker, begging for the person outside to help… and the next she was falling into the bay.
Thrashing about beneath the water her self preservation instincts kicked in and she swam back to the surface, putting to use her old swimming lessons for the first time in what must have been years. Because really, who had the money to afford a pool in Brockton Bay. Not the Heberts, that was for sure, and the bay itself was so contaminated by the boat graveyard that it was impossible not to taste the chemicals if you had the misfortune of going into it.
However; it was that very absence of that contamination that put her on her guard as she broke the surface and drew in a ragged lungfull of the briny sea air. There was no metallic taste on her tongue and the air smelled clean, fresh and uncontaminated by the cars of the city.
Still breathing heavily and trying to keep her head above water she looked around. Blinking through the salty water that was making her eyes blur and burn in a way her crying had not. Still, she had her glasses, thank goodness for small miracles, so she was able to look around as she swept her arms through the water.
As she bobbed like a bottle over a rolling wave, however; she was able to see a fair bit into the distance with nothing but clear blue skies and an endless ocean for as far as her eye could see. So with not nothing before her she turned around, and immediately took in the great prow of a ship bearing down on her.
|X/\X/X|X\X/\X|
Waking up to find weapons being pointed at you is never what one would call a 'pleasant experience'. But, as your eyes briefly crossed to stare up the haft of the spear being pointed between your eyes by the white and orange robed man; you could do little more than try and appear as non threatening as you could and hope he didn't decide to stab you. Especially with the two other men on either side of you yelling, or giving commands most likely, at you in something that sounded like Arabic… maybe.
Well at least there's humans this time,' I silently mused as I slowly raised my open hands; hoping that this wouldn't be the one civilization where raised hands meant I wanted to fight.
This is the one that helped to inspire this. There's a few others but they will come up later on.
. deviantart fs71 / i / 2011 / 308 / 0 / 6 / desert _ punk _ by _ miscee - d4f2o96 . jpg