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Aug. 3rd, 2015 03:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notalldeadThere’s a subway entrance in the Nexus.
Like all things in the Nexus, either it was always there and has gone, somehow, magically unnoticed before now, or it simply appeared overnight. It’s heavily graffitied, mostly with phrases about death, pictures of skulls and phrases like ‘LAST JUDGEMENT’ that take the shape of gang tags. The metal and general make of the subway entrance is grubby, rusted, even charred in some spots.
A figure appears from the depths of the presumed underground, creeping slowly to avoid detection and peeking hesitantly. The man has seen much, much better days; his skin is green with decay and his face appears slashed red and raw with a flurry of cuts. The injuries seem to bother him very little; what he sees, on the other hand, gives him a startled yelp and sends him scurrying back down into the subway, yelling for someone named Jesse.
Some time passes before another figure emerges. He carries himself casually and straight-backed, looking around once he’s at the top of the stairs.
“Well, would you lookit that,” he drawls in a rather exaggerated southern accent. “Looks like we’ve found ourselves a whole new rodeo, boys!”
He turns around, taking in more of the view, giving a low whistle of appreciation when he spots The Sign, tilting his cowboy hat back to look up at it proper.
“Question, huh? All right.” Jesse smiles, showing the gaps in his teeth as he hooks his thumbs in his belt, pushing his duster back from his hips to do so. “So what’s yer favourite zombie movie, cowpokes?”
Like all things in the Nexus, either it was always there and has gone, somehow, magically unnoticed before now, or it simply appeared overnight. It’s heavily graffitied, mostly with phrases about death, pictures of skulls and phrases like ‘LAST JUDGEMENT’ that take the shape of gang tags. The metal and general make of the subway entrance is grubby, rusted, even charred in some spots.
A figure appears from the depths of the presumed underground, creeping slowly to avoid detection and peeking hesitantly. The man has seen much, much better days; his skin is green with decay and his face appears slashed red and raw with a flurry of cuts. The injuries seem to bother him very little; what he sees, on the other hand, gives him a startled yelp and sends him scurrying back down into the subway, yelling for someone named Jesse.
Some time passes before another figure emerges. He carries himself casually and straight-backed, looking around once he’s at the top of the stairs.
“Well, would you lookit that,” he drawls in a rather exaggerated southern accent. “Looks like we’ve found ourselves a whole new rodeo, boys!”
He turns around, taking in more of the view, giving a low whistle of appreciation when he spots The Sign, tilting his cowboy hat back to look up at it proper.
“Question, huh? All right.” Jesse smiles, showing the gaps in his teeth as he hooks his thumbs in his belt, pushing his duster back from his hips to do so. “So what’s yer favourite zombie movie, cowpokes?”
