Johnny Alpha (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
strontiumdog) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2017-01-21 12:30 pm
strontiumdog) wrote in nexus_crossings2017-01-21 12:30 pm
Strange Awakening
He was supposed to be dead. Not wherever he is now.
Not even moments ago he was on a hopeless mission, standing in the ruins of the parliamentary chambers surrounded by dead guards and the quailing politicians who'd spent years spitting and stamping on people like him. In his hand, he clutched the explosive that would bring the whole corrupt system crashing down on all of them.
He knew he was on a suicide mission from the instant the tide of battle turned against his forces and had no choice but to turn to panicked flight into the countryside. But he'd stayed. Despite the danger, the scattered executions and volleys of gunfire echoing across the field, it was his only chance. They were so close, and they would never get this opportunity ever again. This all had to be for something.
He had glared at the chamber with his white eyes, one hand still on his blaster. Wounded, vicious, victorious - He'd clicked it, and then... nothing.
Or it should have been.
He felt the wave of fire flash up his arm, then was left blinking and disorientated when he found himself lying on the edge of a small pond, waves lapping gently at his wounds. And more importantly, alive.
He stared at his hands, and then his surroundings. Just a quiet copse of trees, birds chirping sweetly around him. No stench of smoke and blood in the distance. Just a peaceful, forest setting. There was even a picturesque cobblestone path set into the ground, winding its way into the distance. Climbing painfully to his feet, completely lost for words, he only managed to whisper out -
"What the sneck is going on?"
Not even moments ago he was on a hopeless mission, standing in the ruins of the parliamentary chambers surrounded by dead guards and the quailing politicians who'd spent years spitting and stamping on people like him. In his hand, he clutched the explosive that would bring the whole corrupt system crashing down on all of them.
He knew he was on a suicide mission from the instant the tide of battle turned against his forces and had no choice but to turn to panicked flight into the countryside. But he'd stayed. Despite the danger, the scattered executions and volleys of gunfire echoing across the field, it was his only chance. They were so close, and they would never get this opportunity ever again. This all had to be for something.
He had glared at the chamber with his white eyes, one hand still on his blaster. Wounded, vicious, victorious - He'd clicked it, and then... nothing.
Or it should have been.
He felt the wave of fire flash up his arm, then was left blinking and disorientated when he found himself lying on the edge of a small pond, waves lapping gently at his wounds. And more importantly, alive.
He stared at his hands, and then his surroundings. Just a quiet copse of trees, birds chirping sweetly around him. No stench of smoke and blood in the distance. Just a peaceful, forest setting. There was even a picturesque cobblestone path set into the ground, winding its way into the distance. Climbing painfully to his feet, completely lost for words, he only managed to whisper out -
"What the sneck is going on?"
no subject
He kneels by the pond and sticks his arm in, feeling only slightly foolish. Nothing happens. He gets up, sighs, and wades in the water to the waist. He turns to face Steve again, the cold water making him shiver.
"I don't think this is working."