There's blood streaming down her temple and she's not on a mountain. Some fucking therapist of hers forever ago told her to wake up every morning and establish who she was, where she was, and how she felt as some kind of coping technique. Jane had shrugged it off at the time like everything else because she's never getting better but right now, she needs the grounding. So.
She's Jane Solis. There's blood streaming down her temple. She isn't on a mountain.
"Good fucking observation," she mutters to herself. She's staggering as she walks toward what looks like buildings in various states of disrepair and it's when she gets to what appears to be the biggest occupied one that she goes down, woozy from knocking her head on a rock and the ligaments in her ankle too taxed from rolling it over a thousand times on the climb down.
"Fuck. I'm Jane Solis, I probably need to be left here to die, and this isn't a mountain."
002. it's the middle of nowhere, why is there signal
( The device is something she's been staring at since she arrived as if it has a tracker on it and someone is going to swoop in and rescue her from the new normal. Hasn't done that yet, though, and as much as she's always been a person to wrap herself in a blanket of isolation and self-inflicted loathing, she doesn't think it will ping off a tower if she doesn't turn it on.
It's connected to a network. Some kind of network. She tries to get to the internet and gets 404s but there's video and text. Fuck. She's still sporting bruises from her world record attempt at rolling down a mountain so she's not sure she wants to see what she looks like. She gives it a try and sees that she looks as awful as she feels and shuts that quick. There's text, though. )
Anyone wanna tell me why I get 404s looking for CNN but I can mass text like my grandma?
jane solis | survive
There's blood streaming down her temple and she's not on a mountain. Some fucking therapist of hers forever ago told her to wake up every morning and establish who she was, where she was, and how she felt as some kind of coping technique. Jane had shrugged it off at the time like everything else because she's never getting better but right now, she needs the grounding. So.
She's Jane Solis. There's blood streaming down her temple. She isn't on a mountain.
"Good fucking observation," she mutters to herself. She's staggering as she walks toward what looks like buildings in various states of disrepair and it's when she gets to what appears to be the biggest occupied one that she goes down, woozy from knocking her head on a rock and the ligaments in her ankle too taxed from rolling it over a thousand times on the climb down.
"Fuck. I'm Jane Solis, I probably need to be left here to die, and this isn't a mountain."
002. it's the middle of nowhere, why is there signal
( The device is something she's been staring at since she arrived as if it has a tracker on it and someone is going to swoop in and rescue her from the new normal. Hasn't done that yet, though, and as much as she's always been a person to wrap herself in a blanket of isolation and self-inflicted loathing, she doesn't think it will ping off a tower if she doesn't turn it on.
It's connected to a network. Some kind of network. She tries to get to the internet and gets 404s but there's video and text. Fuck. She's still sporting bruises from her world record attempt at rolling down a mountain so she's not sure she wants to see what she looks like. She gives it a try and sees that she looks as awful as she feels and shuts that quick. There's text, though. )
Anyone wanna tell me why I get 404s looking for CNN but I can mass text like my grandma?