There was no place safe. He could see the faces in the fog staring, but when he looked for them, for the people who they belonged to, nothing. He kept moving.
OOC: SCENARIO 9
Scenario requirements: *COPY AND PASTE HERE THE EXPLANATION FOR WHAT IS REQUIRED* Characters involved: Dylan Sallow Extra effect: Any player in your party [ carrying a flashlight ] will be able to shine it in dark places. This does an additional +1 damage every time they hit any sort of mob (including boss mobs!) when they flash it at them.
YOUR CHARACTER'S STATS HERE
Quote:
[ Infection Rate ]: 40+10= 50/100
OOC
Character's name: Dylan Sallow Character's faction: University Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: HERE Jersey Number: 31 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER 20 years old. Dylan is 5'9 with a lean runner's build. His skin is a pale beige and covered in freckles. He has short carrot orange hair, and dark blue eyes. He typically wears jeans and plain colored t-shirts. He is currently wearing a jersey with the number 31 on it.
Jaglion rolled 1 6-sided dice:
6Total: 6 (1-6)
Posted: Mon Sep 28, 2015 9:15 am
Eventually as he walked, he came across a wall of thorns. He knew there was something he was supposed to remember about them, about them being dangerous? He couldn't remember. It had been on the radio, but that was so long ago.
A few days. Time was weird.
He could see that old woman staring at him from the fog, mouthing words at him. Why did you leave me to die. He looked away, looking more closely at the wall of thorns. He didn't remember the city having walls of thorns before, but Dylan didn't think he had ever been out here at this hospital either. Maybe they had always been here.
He stared at them, scratching at his leg, avoiding looking at the faces in the fog. The voices were silent too, but he could feel people watching him. Staring at him. He hated them.
The vines were pulsing, glowing a strange light and Dylan wanted to touch them, to see if he could feel them pulsing. He didn't. He had no way of knowing what kind of vine this was, it could be poisonous, make him even more itchy, and while he had bandages, he doubted that there was any itch medicine back on campus.
If they ever got back to campus. Would they even be allowed back? Had they been away too long? Everyone is infected. Did it even matter.
He stared at the glow, and then at the flowers that were blooming. So pretty. He wanted one, so he reached out and touched one.
Jaglion
Enigmatic Gambler
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Jaglion
Enigmatic Gambler
Offline
Posted: Mon Sep 28, 2015 10:19 am
[ There is no actual image in this vision. Instead, you are assaulted with hundreds, thousands of conflicting thoughts, emotions, and ideals, all of them not your character's own. Your actual character's nose begins to bleed, and they fall to the ground, convulsing. They are unable to roll any other visions from the above if they reach this prompt and eventually pass out ].
Otherwise, you may continue rolling until you have fulfilled the 250 word requirement for it!
The flower was soft, velvety even, and as he touched it, he could understand everything. There were hundreds, no thousands of thoughts in his head. Life. Death. Living. Fath. Loss. And he lost himself. What did he believe? Nothing. Everything. So much swirling around in his head.
Pain. Lust. Forgiveness. Torment.
Something dripped onto his mouth, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. Blood. He was bleeding. Everything was bleeding. Everything was living. Everything was dying. They were all dead. They were all alive. Yes. No. He didn't know.
He collapse to his knees, shaking with convulsions. So much. Too much. Too little. He could see everything, but it was so overwhelming. He cried. He was still shaking. He was a killer. They were killers. They had all killed. They would all kill. They had choices. They had no choices. They were lost. They were found.
So many thoughts. So many feelings. Sad. Happy. Sad again. Confused. In pain. In love. Smiling. Anger. Why? Why was this happening? What had they done? Envy. Want. Desire. Home. Safety.
Dylan collapsed farther, laying on the ground as he shook uncontrollably. He was still bleeding. Belief. Lack of. Hope. Hopelessness. Contentness. Sound. He twitched at a sound. Was that somebody coming? Being alone. Being with people. Remembering. Forgetting.
