Evelyn and Kimber Mac: Halfway Up the Mountain

[memoirsverse.livejournal.com]

kimber_mcleod

Evelyn:

Heavy puffs of frost-tinged breath betrayed Evelyn’s winded state as she clambered behind Kimber along the winding mountain trail.  She shrugged the heavy pack higher on her shoulders and wiped a trickle of sweat from her forehead with a somewhat sun-pinkened arm.

“Only half?” Evelyn murmured, slowing to a stop beside the other woman and unslinging her water canister from a loop at her belt.  “Don’t get me wrong, I love it.  It’s beautiful.  Just….”  She took a swallow of the water.  “All uphill.  I live in Flatville, Louisiana.  Not used to all this… elevation.”  Another small gulp of water, and she returned the canister to her belt.  “What’s so interesting about this ruin at the top anyway?  Some sort of… I don’t know… storehouse of mystical energy or something?”  She was being somewhat tongue-in-cheek, though given some of the things she’d seen in her lifetime, she wouldn’t be overwhelmingly surprised if it turned out to be true.

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Kimber Mac and Evelyn: Don't Fear the Reaper

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kimber_mcleod

Kimber:

 “So, what you’re telling me is that there’s some kind of ghost murderer following us that I can’t see?”

Evelyn:

“I know how it sounds.”  Evelyn drew a deep breath, rubbing her arms with chilled hands.  “But I know I saw… something.  I don’t know what.  But those people didn’t just die in random accidents.  Even you have to admit how… how unlikely those deaths were!  Just out of the blue, like something out of… out of Final Destination or something.  Can’t you see the pattern forming?  I know there were only two of them, but…”  Pleading eyes turned up to her friend.  “You have to believe me.  Something was there with them when they died.  I saw it.”  Glancing over her shoulder, she clenched her small hands into fists, pressing her fingernails into the skin of her palms.  “We have to do something before it happens again!” 

( Trigger warning: depiction of possession that resembles mental illness. )

Evelyn and Uriel: Revelations

[memoirsverse.livejournal.com]

greyeagle2007

Evelyn:

Evelyn has absolutely no idea where the book came from.  For all she can tell, it appeared out of thin air, lying in the middle of the little table in her favorite cafe.  She had been scrolling through messages on her phone, a bit sidetracked, certainly, but one would think she would have noticed someone coming along and plunking a massive leatherbound tome on her table.  She isn't that out of it.

The book is elegantly bound, and very old, with brittle, yellowing pages and crumbling edges.  It looks so ancient and fragile she’s almost afraid to try to open it.  Strange symbols are etched into the front, an intricate bloom of spirals.  There are letters, but not in any language she recognizes.

It is familiar, a familiarity like a knife in the heart.  She passes a hand over the cover.  She has a nonsensical fleeting image of herself with book in hand, brushing ghostlike past the table, not really there but not really here either, somewhere Between, releasing her grip on the tome to let it slip to the tabletop.  It feels like a memory, but of course, she knows that didn’t actually happen.

“Where on Earth did you come from?” she murmurs, gently lifting the cover of the book, grimacing as it creaks with age.


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Fobwatched!Thirteen and Evelyn: Well Met by Moonlight

[memoirsverse.livejournal.com]

10th_13thdoctor

Joan:



“These streets are not the safest place at night,” Joan said. “I should know – I live around here.”

Evelyn:

Insomnia had crept relentlessly upon Evelyn again this night.  As she had found herself in the habit of doing more and more, she had taken to the streets of her aging neighborhood, wandering half-aimlessly and waiting for her mind to relax enough to actually rest tonight.

She had seen the person approaching, illuminated by the streetlight, a tall woman with braids in her hair.  She smiled and shrugged.  “So people keep telling me.  Hasn’t stopped me yet.”

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Benjamin Sisko and Evelyn: Temporal Anomaly

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10th_13thdoctor

Sisko:

Captain Sisko stumbled amidst the smoking wreckage of his runabout to its door, which he pried open after a few moments of struggling. The outside sun streamed into his eyes, and he squinted to block it out as he swept his gaze über the landscape. He vaguely recognised the bald cypress and the swampy ground in the distance: he must have landed somewhere in Lousiana, his home stage. But exactly where, and when?