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Found 3 results

  1. Time: September 21st through 27th, 2019 No one likes being locked up. No one likes being run through chemical showers and blood tests and poking and prodding of just about every kind a person could think. Psychological evaluations, "interviews" about what happened during the Storm, background checks and invasions into every aspect of your life. No one likes it, but at least some people understand the necessity. And at least some of the soldiers and officials and pathologists running the quarantine at whatever base you'd all be flown into in the desert were as nice as they could be about it. Some of them. The base itself had been split between the sealed off zones for the "guests" and the free-range areas for everyone else. At the start, there'd just been the large workroom that had been stuffed with cots and blankets for the dozen or so people being kept there, but on the morning of the second day actual semi-private rooms were announced as having been sealed off for people to use. They were paired off and told that rooms would be opened to them by the evening. Workers in HAZMAT suits brought in tables and board games and cards for the internees to keep themselves occupied while doctors tried to figure out if their weirdness was contagious or their if their minds were just falling apart more slowly than all of the people that had turned into monsters immediately. "This is the worst," Lucia complained. "Why can't we have phones or something? At least give us movies to watch!" The last was halfheartedly bemoaned at one of the soldiers guarding the communal bubble in the main room. He just shrugged, clearly not about to leave his post to go get a movie for the young woman. Her all-black eyes rolled, which couldn't be seen, and she slumped in her chair. She looked around the room, picking someone out to go say hi to and maybe make a friend - anything was better than another round of Solitaire.
  2. October 12th, 2019 Donald leaned back on the couch, listening to the track running through his iPod. Hero, by Skillet. It seemed appropriate for these madcap past few weeks. After being released by the CDC, a limo was waiting for Donald at the door. Whisked away to the airport - a private jet taking him to Logan Airport. Mom, Grandpa and Grandma waiting for him at Logan Airport. The Wallaces managed to route away from pararazzi and journalists, but they had caught on and started appearing on the outskirts as Donald got into the limo. Isaac sniffed at them as the limo left them behind. Some people might have gone along with their family's business in the camera eye. Isaac Wallace was not one of those people. He'd had to adjust enough business is dealing with the media's response to Donald being plastered across the nation battling zombies. Free now from the issue of public propriety, Deidre Kennedy... it wouldn't be quite right to say she hugged her son like he was 6 again and scraped his knee, but neither was it quite wrong. Isaac and Maeve sought to remain far more composed in their concerns, but Donald could tell they had a profound sense of relief written all over them. Crazed Stormers did a number on Boston and the North End would be rebuilding for a long time. The University of Pennsylvania decided in light of Donald's quarantine and general fame to give him an indeterminate amount of time off. So Donald took advantage of the time to be with his family again, relax... Well, within limits. There really was no way to get around the media, and Maeve guided Donald through a basic statement to send to the press. More or less it boiled down to: "I figured protecting others from the zombies was the right thing to do. Super-powers was just a welcome surprise. No further comment." Donald had been tempted to have at least one interview but Isaac sternly advised against it. In fact, his grandfather had politely inquired into what abilities Donald had gotten, listened and while not directly saying 'start thinking about your future,' had made sure his grandson remembered the names and numbers of the family's legal staff and not jump into anything without contacting them. Donald loved Grandpa Isaac, but he came off like a buzzkill there. Well, that wasn't fair. Donald had begun starting to think about it, honestly. Being cooped up in the Wallace mansion didn't help though. So after several days, having insisted he didn't need therapy or anything like that, Donald chosen to return to college for now. Some tad of normalcy, if he could pretend. Except you can't pretend when there had been student protests at the U of PA calling for Donald and "Ski-Mask Girl's" release. And counter-protests insisting they'd been released too early. Death threat emails from the Northflow Pentecoastal Whatever because he was the Antichrist's Midwife. Everyone on campus wanting to know everything about him. Thinking they were entitled to. Donald being dropped from the basketball team - because of fairness - though he'd only joined that year because it gave him something to do. Mind you, there were perks. Donald brought girls back every night. Girls plural. When he went out, Donald could get free stuff from a ton of places and share the bounty with his buddies. But then there were moments like these when Donald wanted a break. Thankfully, Lucas and Aaron were the best bros and roommates ever, and went to bat helping keep unwanted callers at bay. Donald just felt the need of... something. Then it settled on him. Someone to talk to. Donald and Renata had traded Skype contacts before leaving, since they both were attending the same college and might want to talk later. TheAmazingRacer wrote: Hey, how's it going?
  3. 11:48 PM Evo Alpha Rho Kappa threw the best parties. The members were almost universally well-monied, well-connected, and that particularly helpful blend of bored co-ed and disaffected degenerate. The Dean wasn't going to shut down the parties when he remembered them himself and when it might affect how much their parents donate to the school. So: booze, co-eds looking for a good time and to impress the ARK boys, and pretty loose regulations on other "recreationals". Donald wasn't a member, but his lineage and trust fund meant he always got a personal invite. The music was loud and even at nearly midnight no one was winding down yet. Lightning burst against the clouds outside - it'd been a clear day, but weather? right. Thunder followed quickly after and Donald fell the faint wave of pressure that meant it had be close. That might also have been Allison Cartwright pressing up against him while dancing on the patio, though, too. Not a lot of skill or natural dexterity, but the tall girl had enthusiasm. "It's gonna rain," she said in a tipsy purr. "I can feel it. Why don't we go somewhere inside? My sorority house is just down the street." Donald opened his mouth to say something clever when laughter - loud, deep, utterly insane laughter - burst out from the ARK mansion. He glanced back into the house to see people looking around wildly and heading for exits. That is, those that weren't biting other people. Renata ARK threw the worst parties, Renata thought darkly as she walked the perimeter of the over-sized testosterone factory called a chapter house. She'd been hearing bad things for a while about the fraternity and the clear favoritism by the college only set her further on edge. The boys could get away with everything short of murder so long as it wasn't caught on tape. And given the lawyers they could call on, maybe even then. She was in camouflage tonight: a school shirt and dark pants, just enough school spirit that no one thought she was too out of place, but non-sexy enough that she'd been avoided for the easier targets of the night. A telescoping baton on her key-ring that looked like a travel pill bottle (seriously, you could find anything online) kept her nice and armed, and a solo cup of Monster and soda was keeping her awake. Picking apart who was willing drunken partners of the night and if anyone actually needed a rescue wasn't easy, but she'd been ancy in her room earlier in the night and being out and about at least helped with that. She'd felt the clouds roll in, quick and ominous and covering up the moon, but the lightning and thunder still made her start. Her head was pounding and the second flash of lighting - the one that was pink and green and orange instead of white-blue - nearly blinded her when it struck the tree only a few feet from her. It didn't even register that she hadn't heard anything with it, no crackle of charring bark, no displacement of air and energy. She rubbed her eyes and her temples. A girl screamed in the house. That snapped her head up and sent her running for the front door when the booming laughter of something inescapably evil rolled over her from inside. She rushed into the front hall in time to see one of the more bimbo-blond party-goers lean into an ARK boy and bite down on his collar bone.
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