12-04-2009, 03:11 AM
Sage found herself in a black tunnel - a tube, really - surrounded by stretching, twisting lights of every color. She would have sighed, but she was being broken down at the molecular level, and it seemed a good portion of her body was already just particles hurtling across the sector. Soon, even the lights faded away, but only for a moment.
Soon, she watched the lights dance in reverse, as she was set down somewhere and meticulously reconstructed, molecule by molecule, until she found herself standing nearby a rocky outcropping, with nothing but the wind to keep her company.
But at least, Sage assured herself, she didn’t murder Pierre. He was alive, just unconscious. Somewhere. She spared him after he fainted. After he had ceased to be a threat. It was a bad decision, she knew. Pierre might wind up crossing her a second time before the tournament was over. But she was glad to have made the decision anyway. Somehow.
Realizing her hands were still encased in her claws, Sage allowed the ice to recede. She allowed herself the slightest giggle. The girl must have looked so absurd. Only five-foot-five, rushing her enemies with massive claws outstretched at her sides. The girl frowned. It wasn’t as funny as she first thought.
But Sage wasn’t in a contemplative mood. There wasn’t really much left to contemplate, aside from her waning conviction that she was, indeed, doing what she needed to do. And contemplating that was stupid, because to change course now would mean all of those horrible things she had already done were for nothing.
Forget that.
Instead, she decided to make for the bunker. The azure haired girl wasn’t sure she needed to, but it would at least scratch that nuisance off the list for a couple of days, and there wasn’t really anywhere else to go.
She hoped her friends had survived, but it was difficult, at this point, to assume they had. Still, she didn’t need to see Ashe in a pool of her own blood, or Sophia. ...Again.
The sight of the priestess tumbling down into the volcano made her sick. Sage crumpled to the dirt as the color drained away from her face. Damn you, Kai! The girl rubbed her eyes and tried to relax as her dizzy spell faded away.
Lumping the horrors of Friend or Foe onto her current situation would just cause a nervous breakdown. She knew that, but it was hard to fight it all away. She shook her head, hard. She had just come off the crest of a good deed. She had spared Pierre! It was time to think ahead, not backward!
That’s what the hero would have said, anyway. Sage climbed to her feet, and brushed herself off. She frowned. Her clothing was still in tatters, and she had fought Pierre like that. She cringed, thinking maybe her state of dress might have sent him a different signal than the one she wanted him to receive. Maybe he wasn’t... as creepy as she thought.
The girl hiked through the mountains, having to rest frequently. Her lungs would start to burn after only fifteen minutes or so, and she would have to take a break. Finally, after her breaks began to become more and more extended - out of necessity - she reached into one of the black ribbons in her hair and retrieved a capsule. With a click and a pop!, a purple asthma pump appeared in her palm.
As she put the device to her lips and pressed down on the dispenser, she couldn’t help but notice how long she had gone without it. Sage inhaled the gaseous concoction, and held her breath for as long as her irritated lungs would let her, before she released it with an unladylike, hacking cough.
The girl returned the pump to its capsule, and the capsule to its ribbon. It had been weeks since she’d used the thing, she suddenly realized. Maybe... the girl shook her head. For all of the evils all of this adventuring had thrust upon her - and extracted from her - maybe some good had come from it. Maybe she was getting... better.
Sage took a deep breath of the brisk, mountain air, this time able to fill her lungs without coughing. The hiking continued much more easily now, although the girl lamented not having a proper pair of boots for the occasion.
- - - - -
Exhausted and sore, the remarkably young doctor arrived at the mountain sector bunker. Why Damon decided to put the bunker halfway up the mountain, Sage had no idea. Probably for the same reason he thought it’d be funny to put the arctic sector bunker in the middle of the wasteland, she conceded. Although for her, that one was beneficial. Climbing a mountain wasn’t. She wasn’t Captain Kirk.
Tumbling into the bunker, Sage went straight for the fridge. Please not bread and butter again.
Throwing the door open made the girl’s eyes light up. Either this refrigerator hadn’t yet been touched, or someone restocked it on the sly. It was loaded with all the coolest eats imaginable.
Throwing proper diet to the wind, Sage withdrew a big hunk of smoked beef and plunked it down onto a conveniently placed plate on the counter next to the fridge. Fishing through the drawers for a fork and knife, the girl took her prize to the table, and voraciously dug into the food.
It had been days since she had a good meal, and yet, she was surprised to finish her meal and still be hungry. Still, it was there, so, with a shrug, Sage went back to the fridge, and piled her plate with meats and cheeses and grapes and things. Taking her new dish to the table, she carved into it with the same fervor she had with her first helping.
So much for a strict diet. As a doctor, Sage firmly practiced what she preached, and here she was, gorging herself on whatever she thought would taste good. Still, there wasn’t any inkling of guilt creeping into the back of her head.
Pushing her empty plate away from her, the blue haired girl leaned back in her chair, satisfied, for a change. It probably wasn’t the best for her figure, but it was good. Sage almost laughed. She’d tried to kill herself - more than once - and yet she had always worried about taking care of herself.
Vanity. Maybe.
The diazepam addict put her plate in the sink, but didn’t bother cleaning it. She knew it wouldn’t be Damon Dukes himself who would be forced to clean it, but some innocent, hard-working and poorly paid employee, but right then, she didn’t care.
Even now, she knew it would bother her later, but there were worse things, bigger things, that bothered her now. The unlikely princess sighed. To be so self-aware was, at times, frustrating. What she wouldn’t give to distract herself. Anything, even television.
Surprisingly, as she strode into what passed for the living room, she found a book sitting on top of one of the chairs. Picking it up, she scanned the cover. ‘The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead.’ Sage contained her skepticism, and arbitrarily thumbed to a passage at random.
With a groan, Sage closed the book and tossed it back onto the chair she’d taken it from. Maybe later. First, she decided, she would look for clothes. Slim chances, sure, but it was something to do. And then, as she passed by the bathroom and noticed it contained a shower, ‘first’ changed. Her dirt, sweat, and blood covered clothes and flesh, and her sticky, matted hair was all the motivation the girl needed.
Locking herself in the bathroom, Sage peeled her already-ruined clothing off and unceremoniously dumped it all in the corner of the room, before stepping into the shower, doing her best to hide her incredulity at its existence in the first place.
Deciding it best not to consider the logistics - and sanity - of installing working plumbing halfway up a completely uninhabited mountain, Sage instead opened the ‘hot’ tap as far as it would go.
Soon, she watched the lights dance in reverse, as she was set down somewhere and meticulously reconstructed, molecule by molecule, until she found herself standing nearby a rocky outcropping, with nothing but the wind to keep her company.
But at least, Sage assured herself, she didn’t murder Pierre. He was alive, just unconscious. Somewhere. She spared him after he fainted. After he had ceased to be a threat. It was a bad decision, she knew. Pierre might wind up crossing her a second time before the tournament was over. But she was glad to have made the decision anyway. Somehow.
Realizing her hands were still encased in her claws, Sage allowed the ice to recede. She allowed herself the slightest giggle. The girl must have looked so absurd. Only five-foot-five, rushing her enemies with massive claws outstretched at her sides. The girl frowned. It wasn’t as funny as she first thought.
But Sage wasn’t in a contemplative mood. There wasn’t really much left to contemplate, aside from her waning conviction that she was, indeed, doing what she needed to do. And contemplating that was stupid, because to change course now would mean all of those horrible things she had already done were for nothing.
Forget that.
Instead, she decided to make for the bunker. The azure haired girl wasn’t sure she needed to, but it would at least scratch that nuisance off the list for a couple of days, and there wasn’t really anywhere else to go.
She hoped her friends had survived, but it was difficult, at this point, to assume they had. Still, she didn’t need to see Ashe in a pool of her own blood, or Sophia. ...Again.
The sight of the priestess tumbling down into the volcano made her sick. Sage crumpled to the dirt as the color drained away from her face. Damn you, Kai! The girl rubbed her eyes and tried to relax as her dizzy spell faded away.
Lumping the horrors of Friend or Foe onto her current situation would just cause a nervous breakdown. She knew that, but it was hard to fight it all away. She shook her head, hard. She had just come off the crest of a good deed. She had spared Pierre! It was time to think ahead, not backward!
That’s what the hero would have said, anyway. Sage climbed to her feet, and brushed herself off. She frowned. Her clothing was still in tatters, and she had fought Pierre like that. She cringed, thinking maybe her state of dress might have sent him a different signal than the one she wanted him to receive. Maybe he wasn’t... as creepy as she thought.
The girl hiked through the mountains, having to rest frequently. Her lungs would start to burn after only fifteen minutes or so, and she would have to take a break. Finally, after her breaks began to become more and more extended - out of necessity - she reached into one of the black ribbons in her hair and retrieved a capsule. With a click and a pop!, a purple asthma pump appeared in her palm.
As she put the device to her lips and pressed down on the dispenser, she couldn’t help but notice how long she had gone without it. Sage inhaled the gaseous concoction, and held her breath for as long as her irritated lungs would let her, before she released it with an unladylike, hacking cough.
The girl returned the pump to its capsule, and the capsule to its ribbon. It had been weeks since she’d used the thing, she suddenly realized. Maybe... the girl shook her head. For all of the evils all of this adventuring had thrust upon her - and extracted from her - maybe some good had come from it. Maybe she was getting... better.
Sage took a deep breath of the brisk, mountain air, this time able to fill her lungs without coughing. The hiking continued much more easily now, although the girl lamented not having a proper pair of boots for the occasion.
- - - - -
Exhausted and sore, the remarkably young doctor arrived at the mountain sector bunker. Why Damon decided to put the bunker halfway up the mountain, Sage had no idea. Probably for the same reason he thought it’d be funny to put the arctic sector bunker in the middle of the wasteland, she conceded. Although for her, that one was beneficial. Climbing a mountain wasn’t. She wasn’t Captain Kirk.
Tumbling into the bunker, Sage went straight for the fridge. Please not bread and butter again.
Throwing the door open made the girl’s eyes light up. Either this refrigerator hadn’t yet been touched, or someone restocked it on the sly. It was loaded with all the coolest eats imaginable.
Throwing proper diet to the wind, Sage withdrew a big hunk of smoked beef and plunked it down onto a conveniently placed plate on the counter next to the fridge. Fishing through the drawers for a fork and knife, the girl took her prize to the table, and voraciously dug into the food.
It had been days since she had a good meal, and yet, she was surprised to finish her meal and still be hungry. Still, it was there, so, with a shrug, Sage went back to the fridge, and piled her plate with meats and cheeses and grapes and things. Taking her new dish to the table, she carved into it with the same fervor she had with her first helping.
So much for a strict diet. As a doctor, Sage firmly practiced what she preached, and here she was, gorging herself on whatever she thought would taste good. Still, there wasn’t any inkling of guilt creeping into the back of her head.
Pushing her empty plate away from her, the blue haired girl leaned back in her chair, satisfied, for a change. It probably wasn’t the best for her figure, but it was good. Sage almost laughed. She’d tried to kill herself - more than once - and yet she had always worried about taking care of herself.
Vanity. Maybe.
The diazepam addict put her plate in the sink, but didn’t bother cleaning it. She knew it wouldn’t be Damon Dukes himself who would be forced to clean it, but some innocent, hard-working and poorly paid employee, but right then, she didn’t care.
Even now, she knew it would bother her later, but there were worse things, bigger things, that bothered her now. The unlikely princess sighed. To be so self-aware was, at times, frustrating. What she wouldn’t give to distract herself. Anything, even television.
Surprisingly, as she strode into what passed for the living room, she found a book sitting on top of one of the chairs. Picking it up, she scanned the cover. ‘The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead.’ Sage contained her skepticism, and arbitrarily thumbed to a passage at random.
Quote:A true crisis. Class 3 outbreaks, more than any other, demonstrate the clear threat posed by the living dead. Zombies will number in the thousands, encompassing an area of several hundred miles.
With a groan, Sage closed the book and tossed it back onto the chair she’d taken it from. Maybe later. First, she decided, she would look for clothes. Slim chances, sure, but it was something to do. And then, as she passed by the bathroom and noticed it contained a shower, ‘first’ changed. Her dirt, sweat, and blood covered clothes and flesh, and her sticky, matted hair was all the motivation the girl needed.
Locking herself in the bathroom, Sage peeled her already-ruined clothing off and unceremoniously dumped it all in the corner of the room, before stepping into the shower, doing her best to hide her incredulity at its existence in the first place.
Deciding it best not to consider the logistics - and sanity - of installing working plumbing halfway up a completely uninhabited mountain, Sage instead opened the ‘hot’ tap as far as it would go.
Quote:Sage enters Mountain Sector Bunker
![[Image: Sage.jpg]](http://rebecca.florizone.com/sig/miscsig/Sage.jpg)