http://skaldssong.livejournal.com/ (
skaldssong.livejournal.com) wrote in
tvk2011-10-23 02:19 pm
♫3 - Cold Steel Coffin
[Action - The mean streets of Prospero, the Dark Hour]
[Almost two weeks ago there was a corpse brought into the hospital. It was an arrival brought in near the start of the (now-forgotten) zombie "invasion" and, much like the other victims of the upcoming inhuman assault, was barely able to be called an intact corpse. Limbs were torn off, the face was caved in, great gobs of flesh were simply missing. Sadly, there were more pressing matters concerning the intact cadavers actually rising up to life again. While the extra-ordinary violence of the case caused discussion among the coroners, doctors, and orderlies, it was placed upon the back-burner. Jane Doe wasn't going anywhere, after all, and those who had perished at sea and washed up on shore were doing quite the opposite.
After the full moon had passed and all trace of revenants was scoured from the streets of the city and the minds of the population, the case of Jane Doe was merely treated as an unsolved violent crime. Nothing too unusual in Prospero in recent months, sadly, even if it was an astoundingly brutal case compared to the rest. The only thing of note was the victim herself - female, assuredly, but one who's physical traits did not match any specific ethnicity. While interesting, this was merely written off as a side-effect of the condition of the corpse, and the body was shuffled away into the morgue as attempts to identify and contact the departed's relatives were made.
This evening, when the dark hour struck, a certain drawer in the morgue slid open, the sound of a person in motion echoing throughout the deserted building shortly afterwards. Whatever solemn stillness the location maintained was then be shattered by a sharp, startled cry.]
Damn it's cold!
[Not too long afterwards, a certain red-haired woman could be found - in admittedly tattered, bloodied, and all-but-demolished clothing - employing as much stealth as she could muster in order to sneak back into the Bay View Hotel unnoticed.]
[Voice, near the end of the Dark Hour]
Sorta funny. I never really realized how damn cold it got during the dark hour 'till now.
[A familiar voice, but one that's been kind of quiet as of late. Devola hums to herself slightly before following the statement up with a question.]
How've you all been holding up? Between the temperature dropping and the shadows and everything, that is.
[Almost two weeks ago there was a corpse brought into the hospital. It was an arrival brought in near the start of the (now-forgotten) zombie "invasion" and, much like the other victims of the upcoming inhuman assault, was barely able to be called an intact corpse. Limbs were torn off, the face was caved in, great gobs of flesh were simply missing. Sadly, there were more pressing matters concerning the intact cadavers actually rising up to life again. While the extra-ordinary violence of the case caused discussion among the coroners, doctors, and orderlies, it was placed upon the back-burner. Jane Doe wasn't going anywhere, after all, and those who had perished at sea and washed up on shore were doing quite the opposite.
After the full moon had passed and all trace of revenants was scoured from the streets of the city and the minds of the population, the case of Jane Doe was merely treated as an unsolved violent crime. Nothing too unusual in Prospero in recent months, sadly, even if it was an astoundingly brutal case compared to the rest. The only thing of note was the victim herself - female, assuredly, but one who's physical traits did not match any specific ethnicity. While interesting, this was merely written off as a side-effect of the condition of the corpse, and the body was shuffled away into the morgue as attempts to identify and contact the departed's relatives were made.
This evening, when the dark hour struck, a certain drawer in the morgue slid open, the sound of a person in motion echoing throughout the deserted building shortly afterwards. Whatever solemn stillness the location maintained was then be shattered by a sharp, startled cry.]
Damn it's cold!
[Not too long afterwards, a certain red-haired woman could be found - in admittedly tattered, bloodied, and all-but-demolished clothing - employing as much stealth as she could muster in order to sneak back into the Bay View Hotel unnoticed.]
[Voice, near the end of the Dark Hour]
Sorta funny. I never really realized how damn cold it got during the dark hour 'till now.
[A familiar voice, but one that's been kind of quiet as of late. Devola hums to herself slightly before following the statement up with a question.]
How've you all been holding up? Between the temperature dropping and the shadows and everything, that is.
