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fandomtownies2014-03-28 09:51 am
erasesdebts.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomtownies2014-03-28 09:51 am
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Across the Island, Early Friday Morning
The rifts had reached a critical threshold. Whatever Booker had done, it had destabilized the entire area surrounding the island; even with him in captivity, rifts were now opening in faster and faster succession.
The first one that morning was likely the least damning: just off Galactica Point, a large block of ice sprang into being, stretching towards the far shores. The glacier did not move, but neither did it melt; it was there to stay, quiet, implacable.
More problematic was the park.
A rift split open across its length sometime right before classes began. It spread and it spread until it covered the entirety of the park, and then its edges blended in with the scenery until there might as well not have been a rift at all.
What it left in its wake was black and dead. Trees that were stumps, or leafless husks. Bushes torn to the ground. An ocean of deep, dark brown grass. The pond had dried up, and even the flamingos were gone.
A rift touched upon the butcher shop as well. In a flash, its windows had been boarded up, the insides blackened with soot. WE WILL NOT GIVE IN, read a defiant slogan splashed across the walls.
Elsewhere, creatures kept pouring in. Cold snowmen with deadly ambitions that didn't seem to melt came in through a rift on Galactica Point. Enormous scorpions twice the size of a human found their way in through the park rift. And then there were the zombies, appearing in every shadow, out for human flesh.
It was not a good day to be on Fandom.
The first one that morning was likely the least damning: just off Galactica Point, a large block of ice sprang into being, stretching towards the far shores. The glacier did not move, but neither did it melt; it was there to stay, quiet, implacable.
More problematic was the park.
A rift split open across its length sometime right before classes began. It spread and it spread until it covered the entirety of the park, and then its edges blended in with the scenery until there might as well not have been a rift at all.
What it left in its wake was black and dead. Trees that were stumps, or leafless husks. Bushes torn to the ground. An ocean of deep, dark brown grass. The pond had dried up, and even the flamingos were gone.
A rift touched upon the butcher shop as well. In a flash, its windows had been boarded up, the insides blackened with soot. WE WILL NOT GIVE IN, read a defiant slogan splashed across the walls.
Elsewhere, creatures kept pouring in. Cold snowmen with deadly ambitions that didn't seem to melt came in through a rift on Galactica Point. Enormous scorpions twice the size of a human found their way in through the park rift. And then there were the zombies, appearing in every shadow, out for human flesh.
It was not a good day to be on Fandom.