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Snippet #2453675

located in The Medialoum, a part of Coffee in Hell, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Medialoum

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aroha Lightning Character Portrait: Amelia Finch Character Portrait: Atticus J. Locke Character Portrait: Mandisa Khalil
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Aroha Lightning

Aroha remembered a massive flash that lit the sky of the Mediaolum, and then the ground shook. No, the entirety of Mediaolum shook, pulling Aroha out of the air as she flew on patrol. She remembered crashing into a tree, and then that's when she was knocked unconscious. Right now, however, she was conscious but still a little incoherent. Her brown hair had come free of it's headband it seemed, as all she could see was a short curtain of brown hair. She pulled the hair out of her eyes, revealing her face clearly. Aroha grunted as she pushed her self up, her hands slipping on the tree branch. Aroha gently dropped to the ground before checking herself over. Her clothes were a little torn, a few snowy white feathers were missing, and she had a few bruises, but Aroha was fine mostly. She had crashed near a small pond, where some children were playing. Well, they had been before the flash. Aroha looked for the small children, and saw them. Whenever she saw children normally, she had pity for them already, dying before their lives truly began. The three children were cowering beside the tree, their toy Brig Ship lying smashed on its side. Aroha furrowed her brow, and knelt beside them. "May I?" Aroha asked politely, her voice making the air around her feel as cozy as a roaring winter fire. One of the children nodded, the lush brown mess of curly hair atop his head bouncing as he did so. Aroha nodded in gratitude and picked up a few of her feathers and long strands of grass. With shaking hands, Aroha wove the feathers and grass strands together with the two broken halves of the ship, joining them all together. It was a messy job, and a temporary fix, but it lit up the children's faces to see their toy fixed. She handed it back to them, and was surprised as the children launched themselves into a hug with her. Aroha knew that the mess this... Thing had made would upset the balance immensely, so she gave a little back into the hug, wrapping her snowy white wings around the children.

Aroha walked off slowly, her bruised legs aching from the crash into the tree and from the small children launching themselves into her. She was starting to think a little clearer now. She picked up knocked over objects and people as she walked, gathering her thoughts. Aroha took flight, trying to get away from the noise. She looked over Mediaolum, and saw that the damage was mostly around the mansion where she lived with the other guardians. The other guardians. Aroha rushed towards the mansion, especially to one specific part of the mansion. Her large white wings beat quickly as she swooped and soared through the air as fast as she possibly could. The mansion wasn't very well off, and Aroha could only imagine what kind of damage had been done to the other guardians. Especially Mandisa. She flew to the front door and barged into the front hall. She could have just flown directly into Mandisa's room, but even in emergencies she wanted to keep her manners in check. The place was a mess. With hard work it could be cleaned up, but it really was atrocious. Aroha tucked her fluffed wings away, and rushed up the stairs, her red shoes lightly thudding as she ran as fast as she could to find Manidsa. She decided to check her room first, but called her name as she ran through the house. "DISA? DISAAAA?!" Aroha fretted as she took the long route to Disa's room, knowing fully she might well not be there. As she moved she put her hair behind her red hair band again, and observed the damage the flash had done on the place.

{Winged's posts}

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Her chest rose and fell slowly. Her hand lay in cold, clammy dirt... her fingers stirred, gray from dust residue.

There was a buzzing in Disa's ears that made her lips part. She... she felt like she was making noise, but there was too much ringing to be truly sure.

It was then that she became aware of her body. Her eyelids were gummy and stuck-together, throat as hoarse as if she'd been swallowing flames. She was lying on her side, cheek pressed into the ground, and her body was in a ball, knees jackknifed up to her chest, her spine curving in on itself, curled around her stomach and arms wrapped around herself. As if she were trying to become so small she would disappear.

And she also realized she had a long leg-length, and this position was terrible, considering that she was occupying a space that probably only half of her would want to fit in voluntarily.

Dully, she tried to open her eyes. An effort, as they felt glued together.

"H-hey." Too soft to be heard.

There was a sliver of light. She reached her hand up, trying to prop herself up in the miniscule space she had, and weakly braced her shoulder against the slab of... something that had fallen on top of her against the wall. It barely moved. Dirt and rocks poured through the cracks. Now claustrophobia was setting in. She pushed with all the strength in her still (admittedly watery) arms. Shoooove. Creaaaaak. Pour. She gritted her teeth, let out a whimper between them.

With a gasp, the rubble was forced aside, and light came through. She was in a room. Half of it was... blasted apart.

"A closet," Mandisa gasped, wincing and lifting a hand to her head, finding a mass of fuzzy curls; "Damn...." She tried to take a wobbly step on her knees and fell again. Half this... this bedroom was gone. Had she taken shelter in that closet? It looked like it... it hadn't gone to well. The door and... a stone column and some steel beams had fallen on top, blocked her in... if that one slab of wood hadn't braced above her head, would it have all fallen on...?

What... had happened?

Where am I? What is this? Why am I here? Where is this? I- I- I-

She gritted her teeth and wrapped her arms around herself. She stumbled left and lay in the soil and rubble.


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While the rest of the household ran around in panic and horror, Amelia Finch was trapped somewhere between waking and slumber.

Nausea lanced through her body. Crawling, crawling, heaving up through her skin from the inside out, worse than demon poison, worse than hellfire. Yet all that she could think of was Atticus. If he was safe. She wanted to get up and find him, but her body would not obey.

The outside world was just a blur to the pale, skeletal angel. The noises of the screeching of birds and the creaking of branches and the falling of rubble all shifted and slid and melted together until Amelia's stomach heaved in nausea; sweat rolled down her emaciated, trembling frame. Her breaths came in wracking gasps. Nnnno, she tried to mewl. The lightning had rattled through her veins, an aftershock traveling through the ground, and her body felt as if it were shaking itself apart in waves.

She was outside. Near some scorched and smoking oaks. The woods on the property. Yet slabs of cement and scraps of furniture littered the ground (Bodies? No. No. God no. Where were the Guardians-- Atti?!). The world tilted and the contents of her stomach slid and she bent double over a nearby mattress, digging her sharp fingernails into the mattress and shredding the fluff that poured out like blood blood blood blood blood-- stop-- like blood from a wound.

Colors bled into one another. She gasped.

Her surroundings, her thoughts, a grayish mist. Dulling her mind. Her mind clung to her thoughts like liferafts, but they were rendered slippery-- slippery-- Attie-- The ground felt as if it were wrenched from beneath her feet; she fell to the ground, tumbling, couldn't hold on, couldn't think, mindless combinations of stutters poured from her mouth, a sweating, trembling jumble of sallow flesh stretched taught over brittle bones: might angel brought low, oh Lord.

She had been holding onto a name. She couldn't remember it anymore. No! Att-- what? Help. Angel boy, Ocean Eyes. Cotton strands of fluff filling up the spaces in her skull.

No. No. No no no no no. She was losing it she was losing it she was losing it she was losing it she was stop stop stop stop STOP STOP STOP STOP "ATTICUS!"

She hit the ground. Was she not on it before? Emptiness. No more waves. Nausea. Let out a shuddering breath and each muscle fell limply apart; her fingers uncurled themselves, facial expression went lax. Half her body was on the mattress, half beneath a blackened oak, and pearly hair trailed down her cheeks.

One last thought: I llllost it...

Then it was just white.

She tried to support herself on her arms, but slowly dawned.

"Wwwhere...?"