There'll be trouble when the kidz come out

[lucetimods]

Who: All remaining draftees
What: Zombies! Zombies! Zombies!
When: The 29th to 31st
Where: Vaskoth
Summary: Please read here for event information
Rating: B for BRRAAAIIIINSSSS

On the 29th, the Malnosso announce over the radios that the power cap will be lifted to a full 100%. Carol broadcasts a message.

On the 30th, the Malnosso declare Vaskoth completely lost. Those with radio access will discover that the enclosure is to be bombed.

On the 31st, survivors will have one last chance to evacuate or try to find the cure. 3PM is do or die.

Comments

[alloys]

He listened as the real horror came to fruition, and for a split second, everything is simple and numb. Then the heat rose under his skin to a fever pitch, shooting up his spine as he imagined what it must have been like. Skull fragments. Watching the head of a friend blown to pieces--what she had be witness to, what she had been through. It made his stomach churn and he was seeing red, someone had to pay for this, he needed someone to blame, to aim his sick anger at--but he pushed it all back down. If this was how it felt just to hear about it, he couldn't even imagine what it must have been like for her to go through it.

He was at a loss. He had no words. Nothing. None. All he could do was press her closer, tucking her head under his chin and pulling his other arm around her in his increasingly trembling grip. He held on to her so tightly, because it was horrifying. The truth. And it would be burned, scarred into her memory forever. She would have to live with it. It was something a cure couldn't fix, nor was it something he could take away. And that was the worst part.

But if he had only been there...

[handing]

Her breath bated, she waited for him to say something, anything at all after that. But there were no words, and instead Tony pulled her tightly to him. She went easily, too worried to be anything but pliant. Those fears were confirmed when she felt his arms shaking around her, and she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her throat.

"I didn't see it." Maybe that would help him somehow. It helped her, even with everything she had seen and felt. There was that one blissful gap, one sense spared from one memory, even if everything surrounding it was indeed forever etched into her memories.

But the one thing she needed to convince him of most--the impossible thing--was that this wasn't his fault. She never expected Tony to be there beside her the entire time. They had done everything they each could, and things had gone horribly wrong. Certainly Pepper sees where the blame could be put on her own shoulders, but not his.

"This isn't your fault, Tony. Please, please. Don't blame yourself."

[alloys]

It was hardly a comfort after everything she's said, and he didn't doubt there would still be plenty to haunt her. As if there wasn't enough of that already. As if. Oh. How he wanted to fix such unmendable things.

And then she plead with him to not blame himself. But how could he not? The simple truth was this: if he had been there, he could have prevented it. He could have taken the hit instead, gotten her out of harm's way. But he hadn't been there. He'd been held up in the city, where somehow taking the lives of those who were just like them had become commonplace. And now Pepper was among their rank. The infected.

He couldn't say he would, because he didn't want to make this worse on her. But not blaming himself was impossible. It was intrinsically linked to his failure to be there. So he did what he did best. He internalized it, stuffing it down in his inner thoughts where it would undoubtedly rear its head later.

When he spoke again, his voice is quiet and gentle, barely more than breath. "How do you feel?" It was a question he was afraid to ask. But one he needed to ask all the same, providing him with a scapegoat from her insistence.

[handing]

Tony Stark had never been in the habit of making promises he couldn’t keep.  Even things that sounded impossible, he somehow made happen.  Granted, Pepper had the unique perspective of seeing how many them had been fulfilled; had even served as an instrumental part of the process sometimes.  But as much as he skirted around the truth, found ways to say things without saying them, Tony didn’t outright lie.  That especially held true in Pepper’s case.  He never lied to her, and the way he didn’t answer was an answer all on its own.
 
And she had known, even before he asked.  Tony pulled the weight of the world onto his own shoulders, even when it wasn’t a burden he deserved.  Where Pepper blamed no one besides herself for this, saw the fault that ran through each of the choices she had made, Tony would only be able to focus on where he had been, and where he hadn’t.
 
So she wouldn’t ask again.
 
Instead she picked through all the ways she could respond to his question.  How she felt—where did she even begin?  Miserable.  Guilty.  Desperate.  Depressed.  Despairing.  Weak.  Helpless.  Horrified.  Sad.
 
Afraid.
 
“Cold.”  Pepper wouldn’t put her emotions onto him by confirming anything he might have guessed or seen in her face.  Instead she focused on the physical, hoped that it would somehow be safer, even as mentioning it had her pressing closer to him, seeking his warmth.

[alloys]

He felt the chill in her skin as she pressed closer to him, and he sealed off that space as best he could to do what he can. He was cold, too. They could both do with a little shared warmth at the moment. He knew there was more she didn't say--how could there not be?--and he wished she wouldn't spare him the truth. But if that made it easier on her, then he would absolutely not press it.

He wanted to say it would all be okay. He wanted to say it so badly.

But things had never been so far from okay.

So he held her, suddenly so pitched in despair as he was. What else could he do? There seemed so little.