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Jan. 23rd, 2026 09:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
missgandy posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
thecityneversleepsBarefoot and wearing a fucking bathrobe, Justine Gandy stumbled down the ruined steps of what was left of Ocean View Building B.
She'd just gotten out of the shower. Her fucking hair was damp. She'd been in the middle of her admittedly half-assed skincare routine (she's had bigger things to worry about, okay?) when her phone had pinged from the next room. Why she'd felt compelled to check it (maybe it was that guy she'd met at the bar last week, but more likely it was just some spam or news alert) she really couldn't say, but she'd dashed out of the bathroom, stepping through her bedroom door and...
Into this fucking hellscape.
She might've just stayed in her apartment, but the ceiling was half gone, and there was a bug as big as a poodle skittering across her living room wall.
She'd burst out of her apartment, gasping for breath, and into a night so foggy that she wouldn't have been able to see two inches in front of her face even if she had thought to grab her glasses from her bedside table.
It wasn't just fog. It was ash.
In the parking lot, she called out, voice strangled, "Hello?" Immediately, she regretted it. There were things moving in the dark. Things like she'd seen out in the snow last month, and God, she was really getting tired of this fucking place.
It was enough to make her miss that child-stealing old hag. Almost.
Turning back towards her building, she took a step towards the stairs, when she saw it. Headless and creeping like a spider along the balcony in front of her apartment.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
And that's how she found herself running nearly naked down street, wild eyes searching for anything, anyone that might help her.
She'd ended up cowering in the ruins of one of her favorite restaurants– a noodle shop just off the boardwalk. Too angry to cry, she'd managed to find a broken piece of rebar and hoped that would be a decent enough weapon.
It had been hours since she'd seen or heard anything, other than the rusty sounding sirens that droned in the distance. She even dozed a little. When she woke, she had no idea what time it was, and stepping outside didn't help. It was still dark, but the sirens had quieted, and the street was eerily silent.
Shuffling in the direction of what should've been the park, she was glaring at the toppled sign at the corner of Revello and Mulholland when she heard the sound of something clattering in the entryway of a nearby bank.
Freezing, she watched as what appeared to be a woman shuffled out through a shattered glass door, her face obscured by bandages. The dress she wore was yellowed with age and dirt, but it almost looked like a nurse's uniform. Justine watched her shuffle closer, so paralyzed with terror that she almost missed the wicked looking knife clutched in the woman's hand.
"Um..."
The woman went ridged, her bulbous head swiveling in Justine's direction, and seemed to sniff the air. Gasping for breath, Justine turned to run, but not before the woman lurched forward, slashing blindly with her knife.
The rusty blade caught Justine across the palm, slicing deep, and she screeched with both fury and pain, the knife catching her again on the arm before she dashed away. Bare feet pounding across uneven pavement, Justine panted wildly, glancing over her shoulder as she careened around the corner of Mulholland and Charing Cross...
and nearly collided with a stranger.
( The Great Escape )
"Whoa, whoa, hey," he said, following her out into the lot. The evening sun was low overhead and it was cold– a storm coming, maybe, but there was no ash. There were no monsters. Just some guy with blond hair and a leather jacket, and maybe a cool new scar she'd given him, looking at her like she was just hilarious. "You need a doctor. You're bleedin' all over the fuckin' place."
"You're not looking so hot yourself, buddy," she said defensively, even though she knew he was right. "What the hell even happened? Who are you? And what... Oh, fuck..."
She slurred, eyelids fluttering, and she had enough time to think, Oh my God, I can't believe I'm actually fainting, before she collapsed into his arms.
[[This is Justine's post, but feel free to tag Neil, also, or both! You can tag her in Silent Darrow and be the one to help her escape, help get her (both of them, really) to the ER, or find her after she's been patched up and is shuffling dejectedly home. It's all up to you!]]
She'd just gotten out of the shower. Her fucking hair was damp. She'd been in the middle of her admittedly half-assed skincare routine (she's had bigger things to worry about, okay?) when her phone had pinged from the next room. Why she'd felt compelled to check it (maybe it was that guy she'd met at the bar last week, but more likely it was just some spam or news alert) she really couldn't say, but she'd dashed out of the bathroom, stepping through her bedroom door and...
Into this fucking hellscape.
She might've just stayed in her apartment, but the ceiling was half gone, and there was a bug as big as a poodle skittering across her living room wall.
She'd burst out of her apartment, gasping for breath, and into a night so foggy that she wouldn't have been able to see two inches in front of her face even if she had thought to grab her glasses from her bedside table.
It wasn't just fog. It was ash.
In the parking lot, she called out, voice strangled, "Hello?" Immediately, she regretted it. There were things moving in the dark. Things like she'd seen out in the snow last month, and God, she was really getting tired of this fucking place.
It was enough to make her miss that child-stealing old hag. Almost.
Turning back towards her building, she took a step towards the stairs, when she saw it. Headless and creeping like a spider along the balcony in front of her apartment.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
And that's how she found herself running nearly naked down street, wild eyes searching for anything, anyone that might help her.
She'd ended up cowering in the ruins of one of her favorite restaurants– a noodle shop just off the boardwalk. Too angry to cry, she'd managed to find a broken piece of rebar and hoped that would be a decent enough weapon.
It had been hours since she'd seen or heard anything, other than the rusty sounding sirens that droned in the distance. She even dozed a little. When she woke, she had no idea what time it was, and stepping outside didn't help. It was still dark, but the sirens had quieted, and the street was eerily silent.
Shuffling in the direction of what should've been the park, she was glaring at the toppled sign at the corner of Revello and Mulholland when she heard the sound of something clattering in the entryway of a nearby bank.
Freezing, she watched as what appeared to be a woman shuffled out through a shattered glass door, her face obscured by bandages. The dress she wore was yellowed with age and dirt, but it almost looked like a nurse's uniform. Justine watched her shuffle closer, so paralyzed with terror that she almost missed the wicked looking knife clutched in the woman's hand.
"Um..."
The woman went ridged, her bulbous head swiveling in Justine's direction, and seemed to sniff the air. Gasping for breath, Justine turned to run, but not before the woman lurched forward, slashing blindly with her knife.
The rusty blade caught Justine across the palm, slicing deep, and she screeched with both fury and pain, the knife catching her again on the arm before she dashed away. Bare feet pounding across uneven pavement, Justine panted wildly, glancing over her shoulder as she careened around the corner of Mulholland and Charing Cross...
and nearly collided with a stranger.
( The Great Escape )
"Whoa, whoa, hey," he said, following her out into the lot. The evening sun was low overhead and it was cold– a storm coming, maybe, but there was no ash. There were no monsters. Just some guy with blond hair and a leather jacket, and maybe a cool new scar she'd given him, looking at her like she was just hilarious. "You need a doctor. You're bleedin' all over the fuckin' place."
"You're not looking so hot yourself, buddy," she said defensively, even though she knew he was right. "What the hell even happened? Who are you? And what... Oh, fuck..."
She slurred, eyelids fluttering, and she had enough time to think, Oh my God, I can't believe I'm actually fainting, before she collapsed into his arms.
[[This is Justine's post, but feel free to tag Neil, also, or both! You can tag her in Silent Darrow and be the one to help her escape, help get her (both of them, really) to the ER, or find her after she's been patched up and is shuffling dejectedly home. It's all up to you!]]
