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Bioshock: Infinite AU for @scarecrowing
Jun. 26th, 2015 01:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redwhiteanddefenestratedEnjolras stood with his back to the window. Before him the barrels of muskets of more men than he could count. One of them he'd once called friend. At his side, a friend who knew as well as he that this was the end. This was they had fought for. They could not stand down as ordered to. They could not surrender to these men. To do so would sacrifice their very cause. He'd said to Marius just the evening before that in this their own lives did not matter. Marius who he assumed dead before the barricade like so many others. Now it was time to stand by the words he'd spoken so often and with such passion. Chin raised in defiance, holding the red flag aloft, he said without words all that he stood for. He would not stop fighting until his blood flowed to the streets below.
The first shot slammed into his shoulder, knocking him back. As he hit the open window, another shot aimed for his heart, suddenly all of the color bled from the world around him. Had he time to think of it, he might assume it was death come for him at last. The way everything seemed to shimmer with static, the limits of it traced in blue. The only color that seemed to exist in that brief moment.
The color returned and above him, was nothing but the expanse of clouds and cheery blue sky. How? he thought distantly. The cafe had seemed to just blink out of existence. And he was still falling.
He hit the ground, hard. But it wasn't the debris strewn cobbled streets that should have been there. The piles of wood and furniture were nowhere to be seen. Nor were the familiar buildings. He lay sprawled and groaning on an expanse of grass. Squinting up at the sky, he swore he could see a hot air balloon. Distantly he could hear chatter. People singing. He could smell the faint whiff of food being prepared. No signs of his revolution.
Filthy and bloody, he slow sat up to take in the small park around him. It didn't make sense. He cried out as he tried to move his arm, his shoulder bleeding from being shot. He still held the ragged flag in his hand. Wincing, he started trying to tear it to use on his arm. But with one good hand and his teeth, it may not go so well.
The first shot slammed into his shoulder, knocking him back. As he hit the open window, another shot aimed for his heart, suddenly all of the color bled from the world around him. Had he time to think of it, he might assume it was death come for him at last. The way everything seemed to shimmer with static, the limits of it traced in blue. The only color that seemed to exist in that brief moment.
The color returned and above him, was nothing but the expanse of clouds and cheery blue sky. How? he thought distantly. The cafe had seemed to just blink out of existence. And he was still falling.
He hit the ground, hard. But it wasn't the debris strewn cobbled streets that should have been there. The piles of wood and furniture were nowhere to be seen. Nor were the familiar buildings. He lay sprawled and groaning on an expanse of grass. Squinting up at the sky, he swore he could see a hot air balloon. Distantly he could hear chatter. People singing. He could smell the faint whiff of food being prepared. No signs of his revolution.
Filthy and bloody, he slow sat up to take in the small park around him. It didn't make sense. He cried out as he tried to move his arm, his shoulder bleeding from being shot. He still held the ragged flag in his hand. Wincing, he started trying to tear it to use on his arm. But with one good hand and his teeth, it may not go so well.
