Nightshift 37: Soccer/Recreational Field

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

[from here.]

Since the recreational field was quiet tonight, Phoenix found himself pausing briefly between doors, glancing up at the sky. It was what the sky looked like on television, pitch blackness interrupted by bright points of starlight, which was what really made him stop in the first place, really. He'd spent his entire life in Los Angeles. He didn't expect anything from the night sky but a dark, dusky rose, dotted with perhaps five valiant stars, assorted satellites, and the blinking slow-motion of airplanes coming and going from LAX. Seeing the sky the way he'd always known it was supposed to look pulled at him strangely. There wasn't supposed to be a single thing about this place that was beautiful, but there were the stars, cold and twinkling and completely unfamiliar.

He turned away abruptly, walking quickly for the next door before he could stare any longer. This wasn't the time to get caught up in things like that.

[to here.]

Comments

[hailmegatron.livejournal.com]

Lugnut was no fool, and he didn't take the bird's retreat as final-- it was probably lurking just out of sight, waiting for him to try and escape.

Well, Lugnut could wait better than it. He was six million years old; he could outwait the birth and extinctions of entire species of organics. So he settled in the far corner, deep in the shadows and snugly far away from being exposed to the bird, and tried to go into high-alert stasis.

Then he remembered that he was stuck in a human body, and couldn't simply deactivate until his proximity sensors rang alarm. And his vague attempt to deactivate the pain sensors in his still-leaking arm had been utterly ineffective.

He was going to have to wait, in pain, while conscious?

Lugnut grumbled faintly. Useless Human body.

[damned-monsters.livejournal.com]

The aquila waited on its roof perch, ever more impatient as time passed. And always, always hungry. There was never enough prey out in the open, not of the good kind, the pure flesh that it craved. There'd been another on the field for a moment, but it was tainted and unappetizing. Not like this.

Shifting from one foot to the other impatiently, the avian gave a low-voiced cry as though to remind its prey that it was still there. And not planning to move, not until it had a chance to strike.

[hailmegatron.livejournal.com]

Lugnut knew it was there, and it was beginning to irritate him-- more quickly than it would have in his true body; this human body was restless, and beginning to shake, and the liquid still dripping down his arm was uncomfortably cold and refusing to stop leaking.

He couldn't stay huddled like this. He needed to... get under a roof, yes, and look for a weapon to replace his lost guns and mace. The building he'd come from was too far away, but the shed he was huddled behind...

As quietly as he could, Lugnut struggled back to his feet in the narrow space and squeezed out, peering around the edge. The doors were broken in-- access. Good.

Before the bird could try and get at him, he half-ran, half-stumbled (why did he feel like the world was tilting under him?) into the shed.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/525193.html) ]