Everywhere Else and At No Particular Point in Time, Monday

[endsthegame]

The Nothing did not care for vacations-- though it had rolled over a Newfoundland on an Earth, but where and which one it was less easy to determine. It didn't matter, for very little mattered once it touched the Nothing: it simply ceased to be, in all times and all minds, though perhaps not in all worlds.

It nibbled further. Not just whole universes now, but at the edges of ones that were harder to consume. A person there, a plant here, small things. Forgotten things.

Things that no one would miss.

[[ as of now, minor, forgotten NPCs are starting to disappear. but: post is still open for drops to ping in! ]]

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[puppy_fair]

Trapped.

He hadn't seen the sun in weeks, months... too long, and there was no way of knowing just how long that was. Only that each day seemed to go on for an eternity. Only that old aches never had the time to fade before something new, twisted, wrong was being run through him, torn out of him, and only sometimes was he fortunate enough not to feel it at all.

Sometimes he could forget that all of the screams that he heard in that distant, real place that he didn't want to go to were his own.

Now and again he'd get a glance at his companion, blond-haired and mako-soaked and completely unresponsive, his only friend down here. He'd long given up hope of rescue. It wasn't coming. There was no way out. He'd lost. And Cloud had to pay for that. Because Zack had failed him in that regard too, being unresponsive to whatever sick project was next on Hojo's agenda. S-Cells. JENOVA. Words that were said so many times now that they lost their meaning, and they were still somehow becoming all that meant anything down here.

He'd stopped struggling. Struggling meant that he'd be restrained, swiftly, and it wouldn't do him any good at all anyhow.

He'd stopped looking. Looking meant nightmares, somewhere in a mako-soaked darkness.

He smiled, when the Nothing closed in on him. He didn't know what it was, didn't know what it meant, but it was the sweetest release that Zack Fair never knew.

[one-who-goes.livejournal.com]

With the way Henry existed on the edges of time, he was practically daring the Nothing to reach out and swat him away -- he might be a smart mouse, but he was still a mouse at the mercy of a large, patient cat. It took no effort at all when the Nothing reached out a paw and took him as he staggered nude through the Wisconsin woods in 1972. His last jump through time had been fresh; he barely stopped vomiting and took three steps over the crunch of dead leaves before darkness descended and he was gone. Only a squirrel took any note of the sudden arrival and just-as-sudden departure, and the squirrel was soon gone too.

Back in his present, Clare had the usual mix of confusion, worry, and disappointment when she went to look for her husband and realized he'd gone traveling. He always came back, but she always worried: It was how this worked.

Then her concern went away and Clare was fine. If anything, she was freer than she'd ever been. After all, as far as she was concerned, she'd never known Henry. Never loved him, never married him, never had his child. How could she have? There had never been a Henry DeTamble in her world to begin with.

The time traveler was gone from time entirely.

[sonofmogh.livejournal.com]

Worf growled in frustration. "She was here!" he exclaimed. "She was your chief security officer!"

The captain exchanged a worried glance with his other staff members. "Worf, it's not that we doubt your belief however none of us nor the ship's log ever mention a Tasha Yar."

Worf turned and looked at Beverly. "What about Wesley?" he asked in a demanding fashion.

"Who?"

Worf hit the table in frustration. "They. Were. HERE!"

"Calm down, Mr. Worf!" Riker snapped.

Worf huffed and sat back in his chair. People were disappearing and for some reason only he seemed to notice. The only one who seemed to care. It was one thing when he could face an enemy but this... mystery.

It was not for him. A warrior. One who who hoped to die with his eyes open and in battle.

And when he disappeared into the nothing, it was not a warrior's death. No Klingons yelled to the sky to warn the afterlife that warrior's soul was arriving. There were no starfleet officer's attending a wake in his honor.

Instead the meeting went on like the conversation never included a Klingon officer. A Klingon in Starfleet? How absurd.

"Captain," Troi said. "We do need to talk about Captain Picard day coming up next week."

Picard sighed and pulled on his uniform slightly as he sat back in his chair. It was going to be one of those weeks.

[mildly-super.livejournal.com]

When danger threatened, Clark Kent's powers returned to him. It had taken getting used to not having all his powers all the time, but the important thing was that Superman could still be there when needed.

It was believed by many that there was nothing Superman could not do. There those who even revered him as a god.

But on this one, terrible day, everyone learned that not even Superman could fly faster than the speed of nothing.

And only seconds after he'd been retconned erased, everyone forgot he had ever existed.

[saveonpostage.livejournal.com]

It was a typical day for Yzma: doing all the work while Kuzco did...something...being forced to eat Kronk's spinach puffs for dinner, it was almost enough to make her miss the days she could terrorize teenagers and get paid for it.

Sigh, Fandom.

She stomped into the entrance to her secret lab, distracted and grumbling to herself, and pulled the wrong lever.

"Why do we even HAVE--"

Her thought, and her life, disappeared as though it had never existed as the Nothing cleaned up her universe.

[meg-powers.livejournal.com]

From her position propped on her bed, Meg eyed the pitcher of ice water on her nightstand and weighed the pain of moving against quenching a thirst that hadn’t left her since she’d been left for dead, chained in a mineshaft, after being kidnapped by some unknown terrorist group.
But despite all the odds, she’d survived. Her physical injuries, the knee the terrorist leader had kicked out and the hand Meg herself had smashed in order to escape the mine shaft, were healing. The mental ones? The ones affecting her whole family? The ones that had them tiptoeing around each other waiting for the next trauma? Sometimes Meg doubted they’d ever heal.

Her door burst open and Meg flinched as Garth and Martin, two of her agents, burst into her room. “Come on, Meg. We have to move fast,” Garth said as he pulled her wheelchair over to the bed and tried to hustle her into it.

It took Meg a moment to process that her agents were in her room on the family floor of the White House, the one place they SHOULDN’T be. “What’s going on?” she asked, grimacing in pain as Martin tried to position her injured leg on the wheelchair. Neither agent responded, too focused on the task at hand to bother. Meg felt panic rising as Garth pushed the chair out into the hall and she saw her brothers’ agents escorting them in a similar state of urgency.

The elevator ride to the main floor was tense. Recognizing Meg’s growing unease Garth tried to explain. “There’s a threat. We’re moving your family to someplace safe. You, your brothers and your father will go to Air Force One, your mother is going to the NEACAP.” The threat was serious then, Meg realized, if her mother was going to the National Air Command.

Then they were out the door and rushing towards Marine One for the trip to Andrews. Meg could see her mother seated in the helicopter, her father next to her, both anxiously watching as their children moved towards them.

“Meggie…” Neil murmured as he stopped short mesmerized by the sight of the darkness that was engulfing the Washington Monument. Jeff, his chief agent, started to reach for Neil, but he stopped, his training overridden as the darkness moved over the fence of the South Lawn. “I’m scared.”

And then there was nothing left to be afraid of. Because there was nothing left of the White House, or Washington D.C. or any other part of that corner of the universe.

[feels-special.livejournal.com]

Two months in and neither Jane nor Daria was quite ready to start slacking on college yet- give it about another week- so it was only the second time they were getting to meet up between their respective schools. "We fail at this," Jane said when she sat down and grabbed a slice of pizza from the table.

"You suck harder. I've been here for an hour," Daria told her.

"Yeah, but that's not my fault."

"Whose fault was it?"

"My car's."

"That'll teach you to buy cars out of the back of some guy's truck."

"Mock all you want, but I swear it happened," Jane said. "I got out of studio late, and then the damn thing wouldn't start, and then there was nothing but traffic between BFAC and here-"

"And now there's something weird going on outside," Daria cut in, looking to the window.

"-and now there's something weird going on outside," Jane said without missing a beat.

It probably would have improved her day just a little to not have to see the Nothing as it rolled in, but as that was when Jane, Daria, and everything in the vicinity got swallowed up, it didn't really make it that much better.

[gobrookeyourself]

It was Rachel who decided Brooke had to go to the Fashion Week pre-party, even though honestly, Brooke was not feeling it. She'd been on a plane on Sunday to New York, then flew from New York to LA this morning, and was trying to make sure she had everything good and ready for her show this week, and her feet hurt and she was tired.

Brooke would tell anyone who asked that she was not slowing down, it was just a tough week, and also, suck it.

She left the party early and came back to her hotel alone- see above, re: sucking it, that did happen sometimes- glad to have a little time for peace and quiet. At least until she took her phone from her adorable little clutch and found that she had three new messages just since the cab ride here.

Brooke sighed and tossed the phone on the sofa, kicking off her shoes and heading for the bedroom area of the suite. She deserved some time to herself, and she could just lay down for a minute without it bothering anyone. You could lay down after ten pm and still have it be only for a minute, right?

She never found out, because sometime after her head hit the pillow, Brooke Davis ceased to exist. It'd just have to be a question for the ages.