It starts with a roll of thunder.
At least, that’s what you think it is—a low growl through the atmosphere that seems to echo deep and low in your chest—as you turn over in bed, or perhaps as you’re finishing your last drink at a local pub with some new acquaintances, or even as you’re walking home on otherwise safe streets, lamps and moonlight guiding your path. All’s well that ends well: the city is your haven, it’s been sold to you as such, and a little stormy weather never did much harm.
You close your eyes. You take a drink. You turn the corner.
But the sound continues, the vibration grows more oppressive, and you may think to yourself: Thunder shouldn’t shake my nightstand.
Thunder doesn’t send a pulse through the tequila in a shot glass.
Thunder wouldn’t compel the asphalt to rumble and churn beneath my boots.
It all happens very quickly after that; things fall apart.
The cheers of late-night partygoers tumble into a minor chord, sliding into screams—a party of five has just lost sight of two of its members as Main Street splits itself in zigzags rippling out from the city’s center. One side surges into the air as the other half plummets several feet down, small ravines forming along the thoroughfare. The damage replicates itself like dominoes, and citizens new and old alike cry for help into the empty night.
Someone is hanging onto the edge of one jagged, yellow-striped mound of asphalt, fingers slipping, grip temporary. Do you know them?
Do you help?
Within minutes, buildings begin to buckle under the stress of the earth shifting. Metal and concrete siding, roof tiles, window panes—what first sounds like cannon fire clearly presents itself as establishments crumbling while panicked citizens race to covered positions or out into the chaos of the openly shaking streets for any semblance of safety.
“Earthquake!” You hear. “Cover your head!”
The tallest buildings suffer the most damage (the bigger they are, the harder they fall). At the city’s heart, the clock tower sinks almost gently down as if feeling faint, seeking solace in the skirts of its foundation. People blink in shock as the dust rolls over them moments later.
Victims covered in soot and debris, looking for all intents and purposes as if they’d been disturbed from their graves, disperse across the city, trying to reach the authorities, to find their loved ones. It’s clear that amidst the rubble, both formed and newly falling, some of these loved ones are trapped. You hear desperate, muffled calls, buried beneath layers of shattered stone and cement. Voices struggling to be heard through the ongoing shriek and groan of the earth… still… shaking. One of these voices may even be your own. Are you near? Can you lead someone to safety?
Can you pull victims from the rubble? Are you, yourself, in trouble?
The city bank’s vault is loose, no doubt. The shops are in trouble, security gates destroyed. Do you take advantage while you can?
Whatever you decide, watch for the emergency vehicles and fire trucks barreling their way toward the center of destruction, rescue crews ready to spot those in need. Perhaps you can help them. Perhaps they can help you, instead. (Perhaps they can apprehend you, too, if you misbehave and don’t cover your tracks.)
The rumble continues, curls its way like a fist further out towards the city limits, losing ferocity as it does, but it takes the temporary housing district for its final victim. The city’s newest arrivals won’t get much sleep tonight. Rifts in concrete walls crawl their way from the ground floors, up, all vine and sinew and spider web. Some are more severe than others. While the first floor rooms may find more damage to their walls, bedroom windows bursting as foundations tilt, the upper floors will see things end up just a hair off in balance—askew. Put a glass of water on the table, and it may not stay in one place for long.
Surely the building isn’t safe enough to sleep in, not now. Can you make it safe? Can you reach out to your neighbors? How do you manage?
Three hours after the initial disturbance, long after earlier news programs had urgently advised all city dwellers to take due cover during the apparent earthquake, a crackling message filters through across television screens, electronic billboards, and on your city-issued devices. Mayor Drake sits in full view in front of the Energem, the symbol of the city, its life force. It is in one piece, from the looks of it, and so is she (if understandably haggard and dark around the eyes). “Citizens of Cadelle, as you know, we’ve suffered quite the seismic anomaly this evening. Tectonic plate shifting is not abnormal in a city so near the coast, but we had yet to experience an earthquake of this magnitude in all our recorded history. Although most of the damage was focused towards the city’s center, that center was hit hard.”
The side of her mouth twitches minutely, as though she is biting back further words, and instead, she plasters on a smile of pure grit. “Our top tier seismology center is already on the case, and the administration will keep you informed of any significant findings. In the meantime, we wish to thank all our rescue workers and volunteer citizens who helped our loved ones find shelter and safety. Please be advised we will begin reconstruction of our Community Housing Facility immediately. Volunteers to assist with this project, and with the restoration of privately owned establishments along Main Street, are welcomed, even encouraged. After a more in-depth assessment, we may be able to create paying job opportunities for the duration of this project. Please stay tuned.”
A constructive spin on this tale couldn’t hurt, could it?
“For now, we wish for you to stay safe. Food and shelter accommodations at the public gymnasium are being made ready for those of you currently left without rooms. We apologize for the communal nature of these accommodations, but it is the best we can provide on emergency notice. We appreciate your patience, and your help.”
And with that closing remark, the feed cuts.
Mayor Drake’s shoulders slide out of their poised position, and she bows her head, hand over her brow.
Behind her, unbeknownst to anyone, the Energem flickers—just once.
On the far side, beneath the cover of the protective wall, a small fissure has formed in the crystal surface.
A kinetic rift.
For more in-depth information about this event and how it affects your character, to ask event-specific questions, and to plot with your fellow players, please visit the event's OOC PLOTTING POST. |
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cuddlemods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
cuddlecity2017-08-12 12:00 pm
no subject
Don't be stupid — ( of course she'd want him again. the fact that she'd wanted him, over and over, until they were both teetering on the edge of passing out from sheer exhaustion, had been a sign in itself. the fact that she'd remained friendly with him, flirtatious texts back and forth, could have been a sign too. she wanted him, thought about him as much as he likely thought about her, had thought she had made that perfectly clear. ) — god, I wanted... I haven't stopped thinking about the last time.
( if she was feeling a little more level-headed, perhaps she might have been thinking clearly enough to avoid the emotional confession that follows it. to avoid making this anything beyond the mutual satisfaction that it's intended to be. but her head is spinning, breath hot in her throat as she pants for air, and thinking straight isn't exactly top priority at the moment. )
I haven't stopped thinking about you.
no subject
what is unexpected, however, is that she's been thinking about him beyond how compatible they are physically. robbie really ought to slow down, ask her to clarify, delve deeper into the menaing behind the statement, but he's deep inside her and she's got this vice grip on him and she sounds like if he just picks up the pace she'll be screaming his name and clawing at his back with her head thrown back as she rides out a wave of pleasure. so rather than slow down, he speeds up, rocks harder against her with each successive thrust.]
Fuck. That's hot. I'll keep that in mind the next time I find myself thinking about you.
no subject
she regrets the words as soon as they spill out of her mouth. it's one thing to want him, to crave the sensations that pulse through her when they're slick with sweat and pressed against each other; it's another thing altogether to miss him, to think about things like the way the corner of his mouth catches at the dimples in his cheeks when he smiles so wide, or the way his laugh gets rough and low when he's particularly pleased with himself. those are dangerous thoughts, towards something that can't be controlled or closed off, and not the kind she wants to linger on.
but her gaze focuses on him anyway, catches the beads of sweat as they build near his temples and drip down the sides of his face, takes in the way his teeth press into his lower lip in concentration as he moves against her. she focuses on him until she can't focus on anything anymore, until the pinpricks in her vision encourage her eyes to screw shut, fluttering back open with each ragged gasp for breath and closing again on exhale.
he picks up the pace, rocking against her with an unforgiving intensity, and, unsurprisingly, kimberly comes apart just as hard, his name mixed in with a grab bag of expletives and that particular cry he's gotten so good at coaxing from her throat. it doesn't take long, but her body doesn't quite let go; her legs still wrap around him even as she shudders and moans, heart pounding rapidly in her chest. she might be coming down from a high, but he still feels good right where he is, and she's in no hurry to let him go. )
No, don't, ( practically a whisper, exhaled out as he moves to pull away, ) Don't stop.
( but there's something about it, that softened tone, the trembling limbs, that might imply something slower. even just in build-up to something else. )
no subject
it's soft, perhaps softer than any other words she's uttered to him in the past in the dark of night between his sheets.] I won't, babe. I promise I won't.
[robbie presses a light lazy kiss to her temple, then her jaw, and then finally he captures her lips in a kiss that feels sweeter than the bruising kisses that he's given her thus far. cognizant of that post-climax sensitivity, his movements are slow, intended to coax out the maximum amount of friction as kim continues to tremble in his arms.] Kim...Just tell me what you need, babe.
no subject
it feels possessive, in a strange way. something she's got no real right to feel, no claim to him in any way beyond this moment right here. maybe that's it, though. the need to stretch out this moment as long as possible, to lay claim to it before it slips away. )
I — ( a pause, mostly to try (and fail) to catch her breath; her eyes struggle to focus on him as they flutter open again. ) God, you feel good.
no subject
she might feel like she has no claim to him beyond the here and now, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't have his undivided attention right now. robbie wraps his arms around her as she continues to tremble.
he dips his head, drags his tongue along the column of her neck, humming his pleasure at her words.]
Mmm. No, pretty sure that's all you. [and to prove his point, he squeezes her thighs even more tightly around his frame, eyes falling shut as the added pressure spreads warmth through his entire body. a beat passes as he takes a shaky breath.] Think we've taken care of your energy emergency? Or should we maybe go another round for good measure?
no subject
If you're in a hurry to go...
( but she hopes he's not. even if he's satisfied, content with the knowledge that they've most likely met whatever energy debt she's incurred (and then some), she'd like to stay a little longer. it's quiet out here. the community center is loud and crowded and stuffy, too many people milling in a small space, and while she won't necessarily admit it, she's grateful for the privacy the charger provides. )
no subject
[and to prove his point, he meets the slow roll of her hips with his own countermovement, biting back a moan that threatens to spill forth as she brushes against him. his hand slips between her legs, teasing lightly.]
We can stay as long as you want. [he presses a kiss to her lips to reiterate the statement. robbie's not in any hurry to head back to the chaos that is the community center and all the makeshift beds and the first aid tent and mess hall. he's not ready to go back and feel vaguely like a caged animal. here with her, he feels blissfully free.
he can't hold still, utterly captivated by her still sweat-drenched skin. so he drags his tongue to capture a prominent bead that's fallen into the valley between her breasts. he looks up once he's sure he's licked the rest of the salt from her chest, smiling wide as he does.]
Besides, I don't think I could exactly do this to you in the middle of the refugee camp now could I?
no subject
No, ( kimberly agrees, a little breathlessly, hand reaching up to wipe the sweat from her brow, smoothing over her eyes as if to ward off the quiet yawn that follows it. manual labor and then rushed exertion has clearly taken a lot out of her. ) You can't, but I... mm, I want you to.
( she can't help but wish the bench seat was just a little wider, that she could sprawl out like she had before, limbs tangled up as her breathing mellows into a steady rhythm, in and out. his weight, though, is comfortable and warm above her, the sensations he offers slow and promising, so she's not complaining. much. )
We can't sleep out here, can we?
no subject
Didn't know you were that into an audience. Or is it the thrill of getting caught that does it for you?
[robbie hasn't ever really considered sex in public with any seriousness until now. and to his surprise, he isn't as opposed to it when it comes with the promise of being tangled up with present company. robbie's hands find their way underneath her, rubbing circles as they continue to just breathe.]
Might get a little chilly. We'll have to find a way to stay warm.
no subject
( would she? maybe. under a blanket, trying desperately to stay quiet and unnoticed — the mental image that flashes through her mind isn't one she's opposed to. she trusts him, in a way she hadn't expected to. she'd trust him to do that with her, to keep them from getting caught... or at least to keep them from getting in too much trouble in the process. )
But it isn't the worst idea I've ever heard...
no subject
The things you make me want to do, girl. I swear.
[he shuts his eyes and pictures them back in that gym, sharing an all too small cot and comically thin blanket trying desperately to keep quiet even as though he loves how loud she can get. robbie moans low at the thought. he could definitely get down with touching her where anyone might be able to notice.
his hands continue their leisurely trek across her skin, fingers tracing her spine, the spaces between her ribs, her hip. then in a moment of tenderness because they're both pretty good and worn out from all the physical exertion, he brushes the few strands of hair that are still plastered to her cheek, letting his hand linger there as her eyes flutter.]
If you wanna get some rest, I'll wake you up later, babe.