Post by jaggardpowell on Jan 2, 2010 11:27:03 GMT -5
Jaggard had been silently stalking the New York streets as usual. It was a cold night. As usual. And the weather had been utterly, entirely, unpredictable. As usual. A few hours into his patrol-come-scavenge, a furious wind had whipped up, blowing flakey snow across the streets. A while later, the rain had begun, throwing down huge droplets of water that soon turned to snow, sleet and hail. Head down, hooded coat held tightly to himself and ski mask and goggles on, Jaggard powered down the street. He needed to get back to where he was staying before he got caught in this full blown blizzard. Even as a Super Human he didn't think he could survive all night in these temperatures.
Soon, desperation started to sink in. It was getting hard to move, to walk. Jaggard needed to find cover. He bolted towards the closest door to him, it belonged to a large suburban house. The front door was bolted and held fast, as many of these houses would have been targets for burglary in the days when anyone cared. Jaggard whipped round the back, his natural instincts made him uncomfortable just smashing a door in. Besides, the more of the house he could keep intact the better. He noticed the back door was already hanging off its hinges and crept inside.
Finally, out of the snow, Jaggard pulled back his hood and mask. Even in the midnight musk, he could see the house was badly rotting and water damaged. The roof was surprisingly low, the houses corridors were unnaturally thin and there seemed to be an overall surplus of rooms for a house that would have been a fairly large family dwelling anyway.
Proceeding further in, slowly, cautiously, always ready… despite the poor conditions and large number of rooms Jaggard needed to compulsively check every room before he would feel comfortable staying in the house until things outside subsided and he was able to get back to his usual safe house. He cringed every time a floorboard creaked, whipped his head round whenever the wind howled… the more he checked and listened, the more his instincts told him he was not alone in the house.
Slowly, crouched low, he started to make his way past the front door and round a corner. The wind picked up and Jaggard's heart skipped a beat when the wind suddenly picked up and shutters on the windows went mad. It was so loud and fast that at first he thought it was gunfire.
Get a grip Powell… finish the checks. He mentally slapped himself out of panic. All the same, paranoia was sinking in. That wasn't so bad; he could focus it, make his senses more effective for what he needed them to do.
He checked another room, slowly opening the door and peering in before entering to check more thoroughly. He was getting used to the darkness now, but he still had upstairs to check… those damn shutters… they were starting to sound like someone manically banging on the door. An image Jaggard now couldn't get out of his mind…
Focus, damn it! He screamed at himself, A few more and you can start to worry about upstairs.[/color]
But he still couldn't shake the feeling that someone, or something, else was already here…
Soon, desperation started to sink in. It was getting hard to move, to walk. Jaggard needed to find cover. He bolted towards the closest door to him, it belonged to a large suburban house. The front door was bolted and held fast, as many of these houses would have been targets for burglary in the days when anyone cared. Jaggard whipped round the back, his natural instincts made him uncomfortable just smashing a door in. Besides, the more of the house he could keep intact the better. He noticed the back door was already hanging off its hinges and crept inside.
Finally, out of the snow, Jaggard pulled back his hood and mask. Even in the midnight musk, he could see the house was badly rotting and water damaged. The roof was surprisingly low, the houses corridors were unnaturally thin and there seemed to be an overall surplus of rooms for a house that would have been a fairly large family dwelling anyway.
Proceeding further in, slowly, cautiously, always ready… despite the poor conditions and large number of rooms Jaggard needed to compulsively check every room before he would feel comfortable staying in the house until things outside subsided and he was able to get back to his usual safe house. He cringed every time a floorboard creaked, whipped his head round whenever the wind howled… the more he checked and listened, the more his instincts told him he was not alone in the house.
Slowly, crouched low, he started to make his way past the front door and round a corner. The wind picked up and Jaggard's heart skipped a beat when the wind suddenly picked up and shutters on the windows went mad. It was so loud and fast that at first he thought it was gunfire.
Get a grip Powell… finish the checks. He mentally slapped himself out of panic. All the same, paranoia was sinking in. That wasn't so bad; he could focus it, make his senses more effective for what he needed them to do.
He checked another room, slowly opening the door and peering in before entering to check more thoroughly. He was getting used to the darkness now, but he still had upstairs to check… those damn shutters… they were starting to sound like someone manically banging on the door. An image Jaggard now couldn't get out of his mind…
Focus, damn it! He screamed at himself, A few more and you can start to worry about upstairs.[/color]
But he still couldn't shake the feeling that someone, or something, else was already here…