Bubble.

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

A hot bath is exactly what Corrine needed. After soaking to prunish-feel with a good book, she's wiping condensation from the mirror to comb out her hair. It's been quiet recently. Quiet is good. It's given her a lot of time to focus on herself, which is nice, and get some research done on things that still don't make sense.

Mmm. Right now, she's actually thinking about just slipping into her pajamas and flopping down in front of a good movie. There's hot chocolate to be had and she has a bag of mini-marshmallows stashed away. Yeah... that sounds perfect.

There's another sound, an actual one. She closes the cabinet mirror, then turns to make sure she's actually seeing what she thinks. It's like a super-awesome shiny disco-ball.

Yeah. Definitely report this, pron--

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[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

It's been a while since manifesting to the physical plane. Corrine's shaky at first making the transition, but the atmosphere she arrives at doesn't help. In her 'second ear', she can hear screams of desperate ones bound into their shells. They were making quite a commotion across the leylines, so she's here to see what's going on.

Undead. A mass of them, apparently. This happens from time to time, but most are not as persistent as this lot. She sweeps through streets and buildings, merely touching the ghouls with hands of holy light and letting them drop as the force animating them breaks. Through stray and hoard, she silently moves forward.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

Caleb, too, is helping to free them from their shells. In fact, he’s already helped three boxes of ammunition worth of them just this afternoon.

No one thought an outbreak would get this big, but over the past several hours, the problem has come under control. The heroes – much like every other organization involved in the “quarantine,” as the news has been calling it - are spread pretty thin. Caleb’s nearest backup is a block to the north: A total of 20 exhausted SCU who, like Caleb, have been in combat for over ten hours now.

Tired, but alert, Caleb continues down the concrete stairwell, heading towards the cluster of souls he feels huddled in the basement.

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

She comes through the wall of the adjacent building's basement, appearing silently and undetectable behind Caleb. There are several targets in front of him, trying to get into a smaller room with a barricaded door, two alive inside.

, she says. She disappears, reappearing a few moments later as she opens the room's door from the other side. The child and his father are safely at the nearest Red Cross station, now. One of the zombies rushes at the open door and merely drops when it makes contact with Corrine's aura.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

He doesn't feel anything approaching, so the voice behind him causes quite a fright. He reflexively snaps back around, his Desert Eagle’s laser finding only the indistinct concrete wall. He turns back around, wondering if he had imagined her voice.

I must have. Corrine hasn’t been around in years.

Dismissing the thought in favor of focusing on the task at hand - Which is search and destroy for bloody zombies, Zukov, so steer clear of distractions! - He continues towards the …

The souls disappear, and he’s certain that’s a teleportation he just felt. And then another. And now Corrine’s standing…

He blinks for a moment, a tired awe about his face, before firing at the zombies. “God have mercy, it’s good to see you."

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

She watches them drop with muted curiosity. Their suffering is ended, but it barely affects the cacophony she hears.

That sounds cold. The aura surrounding her wanes until it disappears completely. She hasn't aged a day since he last saw her, or at least it looks like. "Coming to help seemed the thing to do."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

He gives her a smile as he comes the rest of the way down the stairs, and quickly looks around for Zombies.

“So, it’s, uh …” He looks up the stairs, and then back to Corrine. He wants to catch up with her so badly it hurts, but how many other people would pay the price? On the other hand, she’s probably going to leave again as soon as she’s done here.

“Do you want to…” he motions up the stairs, then smiles like a nervous college student. “I mean … you teleport, so you wouldn’t slow me down. And I, uh … I could use the help.” Right. Jolly good show, Caleb. That wasn’t awkward at all.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

That’s reassuring to hear. True, she did almost say accommodate, but that’s not what she went with. She just doesn’t remember who she is.

Caleb smiles as he holsters his pistol, and proceeds to crack every joint on all ten fingers. Then, with a roll, his neck. Odd back contorting and twisting attempt to do the same for his spine, but his vest is just a touch too rigid.

He begins walking up the street, hopeful that she’ll follow, and obviously more interested in un-strapping his vest than in watching out for strays. It would be easy to misconstrue it as weariness-induced (and quite risky) sloppiness, but in truth, even after all this time, he just trusts Corrine.

Corrine. Corrine. God, she’s even a pretty word! Flows right off the tongue.

Oh, do listen to yourself, Caleb he goads as he slips the vest off, and finally manages to crack his back. The time for thinking like that has come and gone. Just enjoy a … a French Vanilla Latte with an old friend, and understand that she probably isn’t here to stay. “God, my back’s been waiting for that one since the siege back by the airport.”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Corrine's keeping watch as they pass potential areas for ambush. She doesn't look up from the path she's traveling ahead of her as something flashes to the right, twice on the left, then just coming out of that doorway ahead. They make crinkling sounds in the fallen December snow when they go down, the ice crystals crushing and collapsing under their weight.

It's getting dark fast now. Several orbs of light appear scattered around them, lighting the way. Corrine listens to the other sounds in the falling dusk. Sound doesn't happen the same way on the leylines. In technicality, sound doesn't exist there. All of it is the perception and broadcast of what can be many different things, but things generally only make sound here when they're in motion.

The noises and eccentricities of the human form. It's entirely disconcerting, how everything is only exactly what it is and takes so much effort to accomplish simple task. Even right now it feels constricting, and strangely nauseating, to realize her flesh is only a representation of what the magic remembers it being and recreating that instantaneously to give her skin to walk around in. Still, she can hear air moving through her and blood pumping in her veins. The shell feels solid and stable, but yet she knows for a fact that it isn't.

A hand reaches out and shoves an undead would-be assailant away, and it lands upturned, face smoking from the contact. How troublesome this must be, expending motion for everything you want to do. These troubled shells are a perfect example of the finite she gave up.

Knowingly.

Didn't she?

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

“Dammit!” Caleb exclaims as he presses the butt of his rifle into his shoulder, and takes one down at range. “I guess I didn’t do a good job clearing the area,” he says throwing his vest back on. “If I’ve left zombies in my wake, then they might cause the swarm to flare back up in the rear areas. We’ll be totally out of position to deal with it. I can’t let-”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

"Stop."

A hand tilts his face towards her. "You're worrying over a few stragglers. The area is clear, there's friendlies on all sides, placed right where they need to be for engagement. I'm purposefully leading us close to any worries and by our mere presence they're no longer a threat. Others have the rest of this fight. Let it go."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

Her touch is intoxicating, drawing his attention firmly to her. The words find their target, and Caleb visibly relaxes.

"That sounds like a plan to me," he says, a slight grin returning. She's still got her magic, if you'll pardon the pun.

The walk down twenty-two city blocks of carnage is another sight that one just never gets used to. Broken windows, glass. Burned out cars, wrecks left on the road. Oh, and bodies. Bloody, mauled, bullet-ridden bodies. All of which are missing all or part of their craniums. The farther they go, the more people they see. State police patrols, army convoys. People collecting bodies, and other people dumping the collections into bonfires. But the real sights are still a few blocks back: Ambulances and Red cross stations in parks and on sidewalks, overwhelmed by people. Doctors treating the injured in every open space because the soldiers won't let them back into the city until they're checked for bite wounds. And with all the manpower needed for security, there isn't much to spare for inspections. (In fact, those look like meter maids and rent-a-cops performing the actual bite-checks.) Masses of confused, scared, grief stricken people, some calling to their loved ones across police barricades. And in the middle of all this chaos and inhumanity are people the police are arresting for trying to reconnect with people they thought were dead.

It's a morbid sight for a morbid world.

Even Caleb and Corrine are stopped at a corner by a DEO agent who insists that they have to be checked for bites. Too tired to even consider arguing, Caleb instead just quietly gets into the line to be searched.

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Both of them are safe. Time is being wasted on them that could be better used on checking others.

They walk past the agent who is now suddenly pursued with someone else.

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Jeanine felt it when her mother left. For a brief moment the entire lines screamed in pain, only the prick of a needle, and then she was gone. It wasn't supposed to go like that. Mother said guardian had been with Jean most of her life, but if so, why didn't she know what to do now?

She was supposed to go... there, back with the blood and flesh. It seemed so much more tempting to stay home, on the leylines, where at least she knew what she was supposed to do. She didn't particularly like the idea of the fuss mortal living seemed to be, but a dying wish under such circumstances wasn't something to be ignored.

In simple logic, Jeanine knew of physical needs to be met. Shelter could be found easily, and she even knew precisely where to go. Materializing was unpleasant, and Kinsey seemed to like it even less. Summoning the tired magics of the land was proving tricky. There was an aura left over of what was, a mess to untangle...

"This isn't working." Jeanine looks over to her familiar, who, much more interested with his form than she, is rolling about the grass in the yard.

Well. She'll simply have to rip out the old and in with the new. The leylines can more than power bringing the old house back as it was and jump-starting the dormant magic in this place. It's only a matter of concentrating and channeling right, and then cleansing the whole place and filling in the gaps where necessary...

[thessaly-ann.livejournal.com]

Thessaly is old. Older than old. Not nearly as ancient as the few who know her, but old regardless. She has lived through many a turnover of magics, leylines included.

It's somewhat of an experience everytime.

Minutes after the house is again standing, Thessaly arrives as if on the very wind. She does not make her presence known yet. She merely stands and waits, intent on observing this new guardian.

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

What to do first? Each room the twelve year old finds unsuitable. It will still be a bit before she understands how magic practically works here. It takes her six tries to change the carpet color in the parlor before she gives up. A lot will have to be done, and that will take time. Multiple efforts. Tedious and tiresome, and more uncomfortable a thought by the second.

Already, there's someone here. It's polite to be gracious when someone calls upon you, but what if they're there to hurt you? Jeanine makes her way to the front door, but she won't cross the threshold to the porch just yet. What she feels here isn't like the souls mother used to usher to and fro. "If you're not here to hurt me," she calls out to the yard, "You can come out. I think, though, if you are here to hurt me, you should probably go."

A threat isn't a very good one without reason, and Jean may not be able to back that up, but mom always said bravado goes a long way.

[thessaly-ann.livejournal.com]

All these years, and she gets careless. Never suspecting the new guardian was called from beyond, she'd hid her presence on the physical plane and nothing else.

As for whether she's there to hurt the girl or not, well, that's still undecided. She does drop the mask however, and steps into the front yard. Like the girl, she does not approach the porch, but stands within a reasonable distance in case things should turn sour.

"Hello, then. Continue your work, by all means. I'm simply here to observe."

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Jeanine blinks dumbly a few times, then seems to be measuring out her visitor. On final conclusion less than ten seconds later, Jean shrugs and goes back inside, but leaves the door open.

Restoring the house from a previous state makes for a multitude of curious impressions left behind. Jean doesn't have the fine control to pull forth objects from one period all at once, but as she wanders about the house, she recreates things which still have a strong enough impression on the aura. Most objects get a passing glance. The old radio she brings forth in the dining room gets her attention, though.

There's a muted yelp and a quick scrambling of feet just after she turns it on. It harmlessly blares static at her. Pride bruised, Jean *pops* the nasty noise machine away again.

[thessaly-ann.livejournal.com]

This isn't just someone from beyond the earthly plane. This is someone who's possibly never set foot in it before.

In fact, watching her stumble her way about this place is annoying. So much so that Thessaly does something she's never done before.

She moves to help.

Stepping into the house, Thessaly finds the young girl and speaks.

"Focus on what you're seeing. This place was here for years, and there's bound to be more than one impresson per place. Feel them out, pick what you want, and then focus on it."

[green-shield.livejournal.com]

"That's how Kevin Costner does it in the movies. We laugh at those movies." She has them both today and she's going to teach them one of the other things "Aunt Tara," can do.

"Pull back and hold. Put your fingers here and here..."

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

"Is that the one with the song and dance about tights? Because I'm not wearing tights."

Wes is nervous. He's not usually the one doing this kind of stuff, that's left to his sister. Like D&D rules, she gets to use all the neat weapons, and he considers himself the neat weapon. "Uh, I'm not gonna be in trouble if I put someone's eye out, right?"

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Dian's blinking incredulously at her brother. "No, you're thinking of Cary Elwes, or whatever it is. And why on earth wouldn't you get in trouble for putting someone's eye out?"

[green-shield.livejournal.com]

"Which is a damn shame, because 'Princess Bride,' will make you want to swordfight." Back to Wes. "And that's why we're on a neat little topical island. No one to remove the eye from. Now just focus outward. We're not aiming today. We're just going to focus on holding the bow and arrow."

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

"The big, sharp, metal thing I can handle. The damage is only as far as the end of my arm. Projectiles? Ehhn..."

Focusing. Holding. Wes can do that.

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Dian, on the other hand, is perfectly comfortable and waiting for more action to happen. "We can give you a bag of cottonballs if you'd be more comfortable." Yes, she just likes teasing him. That lightning trick he learned last week is way better than her kicking people in the head... not that she's 100% managed that, yet.

[green-shield.livejournal.com]

Tara still has to move his fingers around the string and arrow, but not as much as his sister. Wes doesn't have the raw power of his sister, but he's has intensity, finesse, and he pays very close attention. It's an amazing partnership.

"There's two schools of archery. Zen and actual aiming..."