Commander Shepard (evertheheroine) wrote in welcomethreads, @ 2014-11-01 00:34:00 |
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Jane's eyes shot open, the cold rush of panicked breathing pulling her directly into consciousness. She felt the hot tremble of terror burn through her whole body as she jerked into a sitting position, her hand instinctively dropping to her bare hip. A cooling breath. A calm moment for a heart that thundered in her chest. A pause to dull the biotic glow that bathed the room in a mild light of danger. Jane relaxed her grip on the sheets. "Keep it together." She told herself, closing her eyes to take another breath. Pushing herself to the floor, Jane let her eyes cast on the pistol. Pausing for a moment. Why was her pistol there? Her pistol shouldn't have been there. It hadn't ever been in her possession the entire time she'd been here on either of her previous visits. Jane had to wonder, for a solid moment, was she still dreaming? Was this just another stage of the nightmare? It was hard to say in a place that had dropped you back once, battered, charred, and on the brink of death -- never mind the part about where the infamous Chinese warrior Mulan had become your friend. Planting her feet firmly, Jane blinked at the pistol again, reaching out tentatively with her hand. It felt solid. She could pick it up, roll it around in her hands. She stared at the weapon for a long moment, letting her muscle memory work its way back around the grip. Everything about it was real, and it was hers. Intimately, Jane knew this was her pistol. She was a soldier, through and through, and this particular M-5 Phalanx was hers. There was no other gun it could have been. Still discontent with what her mind was telling her, Jane ventured into the bathroom. The plan? Cold water and a sleep aid. She'd been using them regularly since her re-arrival in the town. Sleep had become far too elusive and Jane, not being one to suffer exhaustion idly, had finally caved and started medicating. It beat a bottle of Whiskey besides, though Jane probably would have sold one of her hands -- her non-implanted one anyway -- for a bottle of Serrice Ice. Still, tonight was not the night for that. It was the night for, at worst, a hot shower and something to knock her out until after sunrise. The water had been easy enough to come by. A few cold splashes later and Jane was toweling her face, walking out of the bathroom. Her eyes caught sight of the gun again and Jane sighed. "This place is so damn weird.." She remarked, turning on her heel to venture back into her bathroom and grab the sleeping pills from the medicine cabinet. However, when Jane opened the mirror, somewhat eager to get herself some decent rack time, she was forced to pause again. Clear as day there was a compliment of thermal clips, filling what normally would have been the empty space shelves above her toothpaste. Jane stared blankly at what she was seeing. Why now? Why were these things, this items she'd almost contented herself to be without, showing up here? Was it Christmas? Jane snatched at the ammunition irritatedly, forgetting the pills to go back out into her bedroom. If this place was going to give her anything from home, why weren't they going to give her her ship back? Why couldn't they at least bring someone from the crew through again? Sleep wasn't going to happen tonight. It was a clear decision in her mind as Jane yanked open her closet door. "You have got to be kidding me.." Because what else did you say when you saw a full compliment of your old armor, polished and new, hanging right up alongside your old BDU, and your dress uniform? Never mind the find basic and simple things Jane had bought for herself, her old life was now sitting in the room sans ship and fish. Jane didn't know what to think, her hands instinctively pulling it down from it's hanging space, so she simply didn't. She let the muscle memory take over, fastening straps and buckling the plates. She let the weight of it settle over her form, let it wrap around her like a warm blanket, and pulled her away from the chill of her own dreams. She continued to let the movements carry her back across the room, where the weapon was loaded and slid comfortably back into the clip on the rear of her armor. She let it guide her out of her room and down the stairs. She let it carry her away from the room of nightmares, she let it walk her into a sense of pride and confidence. She was a soldier and, even if there was no reason in the world she would need it, what it gave her was a sense of peace. By the time she'd reached the door of the tower she'd set it in her mind that she'd run one lap through the town, and then she'd go back to sleep. And that's what she'd thought up until the moment she'd opened the door. "The hell?" Jane snapped, her eyes focusing on the shambling figure not ten feet from where she stood. Her eyes narrowed for a moment. As the realization began to dawn on Jane, as the horrific reality of the Husk like creature shambled into the light, her eyes went wide. Husks. There were husks in Storybrooke. It didn't exactly look like a Husk, and it sure as hell moved a lot slower, but there was no other thing that Jane thought they could have been. "Oh please.." Jane's mind tried rejecting the notion as she felt her hand draw back and the implant at the top of her spine begin to pulse with energy. Before the thought had even fulled willed itself in her mind, Jane's hand sprang forward and a bright blue ball streaked through the night to strike the creature, freezing it in its tracks. "..Let this be a dream." Without delay, her hand fired a secondary orb, this one sending an explosive shockwave deep into the night as the biotic explosion from the throw tore the thing apart. Already seeing yet another one of these things, some ten yards from her position broke, shattered that sense of hope for her. Her hand already dropped to her hip as she felt her toes dig deep into the ground. She felt the familiar jolt in her muscles, the rush of duty already beginning to dial into her vision. Even as she heard the whine of the Phalanx in her hand, her body burning with a rage she barely felt she knew, the all encompassing drive struck the one true chord. If the Reapers really had come to Storybrooke, it didn't matter what it took or what she had to do, she was going to kill every last one of them. |