Appologies to W. Blake

[fearmeforiampink]

London, London, burning bright!
Fearsome creatures roam the night.
What dark deed, what poisoned lie,
Set our world so dead awry?

Carrion birds do rule the skies,
Long bound forces now arise.
Under Anthelios' brightest gaze,
Face we now the end of days?

And what purpose led us here?
Bold of heart, yet born of fear.
One foe made to loose her grasp,
Another breaking free at last.

Is it now the end we see,
Or are there ages still to be?
Can we yet escape our fate,
Or must we simply watch and wait?

No matter what the truth may be,
We do yet breathe, we are still free.
While life persists, we shall yet strive.
After all, we are, still alive.

London, London, burning bright!
Fearsome creatures roam the night.
What dark deed, what twisted lie,
Set our world so dead awry?

Recruiting

[ksirafai.livejournal.com]

There's not so much gang-on-gang here - check out the colours. 'S'it, yeah; there's just the guys in leather and the wannabe mafiosi.

Mafiosi's the plural of mafioso, dumbass.

Stop. Learn what your reaction's doing and why you're so twitchy.

That's it; you're hungry. And I know you just ate, but these things happen. Guess we're lucky you're not fussy enough to turn down the dead.

No. Take your time, think about it. You needed it, you asked, you got. Listen to me - it's a good thing.

Okay, listen. I know they died. I know you couldn't help them. I know what you did after that. That's why you're here - not all that many people were out in a doorway with a baseball bat when the leatherheads were on the hunt.

Now you've got a new beginning. You're free; you've proved yourself. See what you think about a tomorrow with a new family and a new chance. Shell shock's got nothing on this...

Snapshot

[lawrencegillies.livejournal.com]

He walked through the rushing crowd with little difficulty. His unseen escort kept most away, and his very strangeness seemed to keep the rest at bay. He walked with a sense of wonder. Around him there was screaming and shouting, It seemed the city was sacking itself.

The fires were beautiful, so beautiful and he wandered, entranced. Occasionally he would stop to watch, tearing himself away only at the insistence of the Voice. At other times, the Voice would say:

“This one.”

and he would stop and summon the flames into his hands before launching it at the buildings, through the broken windows, or the shattered doors, releasing the buildings from this tormented state of being, allowing them the brief freedom of the flames.

He would have to get back soon, his pack would be missing him. Perhaps just one more.

Half A Conversation...

[mapp.livejournal.com]

( Why do you think it happened? I mean, I have a pretty good idea, but... )

Snippets: two days after

[ksirafai.livejournal.com]

"No, I quite understand - cancelling the order is the only thing you can do in all conscience, and the money will be a great help to the relief fund, I'm sure."

"Dear Mr Gregory, I can keep the items in stock for a while; do feel absolutely free to get back to me in happier times. In faith..."

"No, I quite understand; there are limits to what one can offer to an individual when ... yes. Yes, as you say. I'll arrange for the balance to be credited back to you, less the deposit."

"Dear sir; I can arrange that. I'll need a few days to ensure we have enough information, of course, and I can give you a costing. Please give me a number on which I can contact you for emergencies. In faith..."

"I had heard, yes. It's a terrible tragedy. If I can suggest that we consider offering a variety of reinforcements; we can supply things that others don't have the resources for currently."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. Please, do let me send you the necklace anyway; I'd be honoured to supply it at no further cost in time for the close. I can only offer my sympathy at this time, and I do very much hope that there was no pain for her."

I've had more cancelled orders in the last two days than I've ever had before put together. And then, there are the four or five requests for 'all my money, in a portable and discreet set of jewellery that will keep its value' which almost get enough money to make up for it. And then there are the professional requests - there are a number of people interested in ensuring that rivals are 'caught up in the rioting'. It's thrown the power balance out both among kine and Kindred. Is there any other way in which we can use this to further the primary objective?

(Is the world actually ending? Rumours of Antediluvians rising are going around. If we act as if it is not and prepare for if it is, we won't be surprised, at least...)

London's Burning

[annwfyn.livejournal.com]

( All the small tragedies, and none of the heroes )

On why living in London sucks sometimes...

[adze.livejournal.com]

( A letter, found in a small flat in South London )

London's burning - throughout the world

[ksirafai.livejournal.com]

PASADENA CONTROL: Hey, wait. I'm getting a no-go signal. Now I'm losing one of the craft. Hey, Bermuda, you getting it?

BERMUDA CONTROL: No, I lost contact. There's a lot of dust blowing up there.

PASADENA CONTROL: Now I've lost the second craft. We got problems.

BERMUDA CONTROL: All contact lost, Pasadena. Maybe the antenna's...

PASADENA CONTROL: What's that flare? See it? A green flare, coming from Mars,
kind of a green mist behind it. It's getting closer. You see it, Bermuda? Come in, Bermuda! Houston, come in! What's going on?

Tracking station 43, Canberra, come in Canberra! Tracking station 63, can
you hear me, Madrid? Can anybody hear me? Come in - come in...

***

The red star is brighter in the sky tonight. If any of the astronomers were at their posts at the observatories, there would be talk about how close it's getting; about orbits and velocities and ranges and gravitational anomalies.

There's just silence in Cape Canaveral.

The newspapers haven't printed; they're relying on the net to let people know what's going on, to save on anyone having to go outside. All the archivists would be tutting if they weren't busy trying to hide the relics of past civilisations from the end of this one.

The Ark is empty in London.

Armies have been called in instead of the emergency services; NATO, the UN, peacekeeping forces - for the first time in years, American troops are firing on American citizens on American soil. Soil occasionally roils and rumbles of its own accord, as the eastern seaboard seems to twitch.

911 rings out unanswered in New York.

Bunker-mentality survivalists are screaming how they told us so. Otaku are charting every uprising, calculating every percentage of the dead, the maimed; of when the supplies will run out and when the world will go nuclear.

There's no food left in the shops in Tokyo.

Can anyone hear me?

Look on my works...

[lanfykins.livejournal.com]

( Everyone's figured this one out, right? )

Rescue Mission

[astro-dust.livejournal.com]

The sirens, screams and other noises of slaughter had been dulled to a mild din within the walls of the Arc. ( Read more )

London's Burning: And it's all my fault

[adze.livejournal.com]

Michael turned away from the rubble, and sagged against a wall. The devastation was so widespread, he’d not been able to stop for more than a few minutes after they’d come back from Scar. Or at least, what was left of Scar. He’d saved dozens – pulling them out of the rubble, healing the worst of their hurts, binding their wounds, and trying to just keep people’s spirits up. It was hard, in the face of how it looked, but Michael had to try. After all, he knew what had happened.

The Sept had gone to Scar, taking with them what allies they could. With Spirals holding their Caern, they’d fought their way to the batteries, and then the Ratkin had joined them. Hundreds, if not thousands of Ratkin had poured out of nowhere, tearing up everything that could be torn up, and hurling the pieces at Charybdis. Soon, almost all of Scar was being poured into Charybdis, and they’d won. Charybdis was free, Flux was repowered, and the death of Scar had dealt the Weaver a massive blow.

But then, they’d come home. They’d gone out to save the world, but when they’d returned, it had looked like it was ending. On the skyline, London was in flames, worse than anyone had seen it before. The Ratkin hadn’t limited their strikes to Scar, but had hit everywhere, it turned out. Cities around the globe were nigh-on destroyed, and millions were dead. And it had all been Michael’s fault.

Not directly, not intentionally, but the plan had been his. He was the reason that the Ratkin had attacked, and he was the reason that all this had happened. And he would have to live with that.

Three things gave him hope of being able to do that. First was that they’d done what they’d set out to do – the world was saved, for now at least. The Weaver was hurt, badly, and the Wyld rejuvenated. The world would be able to continue, even after what he saw around him. Second, was that Meg, and Caitlin, and Bethany were all safe. They were alive, and protected, either by Chantry or Sept, and would be alright.

The last thing was the visit from Unicorn that had happened an hour or two ago. She’d told him he’d done well, that the Spirits respected him more now, and had taught him a Gift, one he’d not been able to learn before. Michael smiled slightly as he thought about that moment. He must have done something right, if the Spirits had rewarded him for it. It might feel at times like he hadn’t, and that the cost had been too high, but what he had done had worked, and that had to be enough.

Now, though, he had to help people rebuild – to make the world he’d saved safe for the people he’d saved, and to give them hope for what was coming.

And that was going to be even harder than what he’d already done.

Any saviour

[twicedead.livejournal.com]

( Humphrey coughed violently... )

Aftermath

[lawrencegillies.livejournal.com]

 

( Read more... )

 

A new understanding...

[flamma-lupus.livejournal.com]

Naughty words warning, for those of you at work
( Read more... )

Jimmy and the Prophet

[big-si-1974.livejournal.com]

Jimmy, lay on the couch exhausted beyond the level that mortals can sustain, his body felt as if it was broken, despite the knowledge that he knew he wasn’t, drifting toward sleep, he could just hear a sound on the edge of his perception, he could tell it didn’t fit, the sound of an explosion muffled by distance. Curious he turned on the TV eager to see what had happened, the shock hit him more than he could say, the Nezumi were there, running free above ground, causing havoc in numbers uncounted.

He stood up he had to help or what was the point, this was far beyond the level of what was acceptable as a Shih he had to intervene, he tumbled towards the door, picking up his sword Xen Xiou on the way, he would need it, he doubted he had the chi to make sustained use of his shuriken, he would need the guaranteed damage of the katana.

Steeling his self against the tiredness he felt he moved towards the stairs, alas he had burnt out, the action within Scar had been too much for his body to handle, and unconsciousness took him…

… the darkness faded his body in a shape not meant to be, he opened his eyes squinting in the bright light of the sun streaming through the windows. using the sword as a lever he stood up, his arm broken from the fall down the stairs, focussing himself he flooded the yin through his body mending the flesh and bone, he would need his arm.

Stepping into the light he surveyed around, scorch marks everywhere he could see, but no sign of the rats. Sheathing his weapons under his coat he wondered out, not knowing where he was. Seeing people in trouble he helped those he could, giving first aid and moving walls to help free others. The devastation was almost total.

Then while helping move the rubble of some collapsed bungalows the ground burst asunder, 1 huge ratkin and 4 smaller of his brethren jumped into the light from the darkness of their tunnels `The prophet, The prophet’ they screamed’. The mortals scattered while jimmy jumped into action, sending forth a barrage of shuriken striking 3 of the smaller shifters, jumping at the 4<sup>th</sup> of the smaller ones he struck slicing it in the front, spinning round to avoid its claws as the beast grasped for him, he swept the leg as he stuck the sword through it pinning it to the ground, with his off hand he loosed off another fusillade of stars at the 3 he struck earlier leaving them on the floor, he let loose the sword as the largest one screamed and charged him attempting to grapple him, he rolled in a suicide throw turning the grapple to his advantage, he struck the nose of his victim calling forth a howl of pain. Pinning him to the ground he said `Talk, Hengeyoki’ he twisted his arm `Come on Nezumi why are you here?’ `The prophet, he comes we are his vanguard, the Prophet, the Prophet’ `Damn’ jimmy said as he broke the beasts neck.

He did not know what it meant, as he picked up his weapons and walked away the humans he was helping just staring at him as he walked off leaving the bodies of the rats in the street.

Eventually he made it back to the room he called home, bare of walls, functional at best a death trap at worst, its only redeeming factor a communal basement that no-one used where he could practice. He took a drink from the bottle, troubled that he had been too weak to help, was he needed in the umbra, should he have stayed, even though he had no for knowledge he felt troubled by his inability to help, he took a second swig of the liquor then when to practice taking his frustration out on the padded dummies he had made up

Meanwhile, in another city:

[lawrencegillies.livejournal.com]

 

( Read more... )

 

(no subject)

[kievala.livejournal.com]

( Judge. Jury. Executioner. )

(no subject)

[kievala.livejournal.com]

( The price of doing business )