on_her_korhal: (qob: face)
For Fandom, it had been a week.

For Sarah Kerrigan, Queen of Blades, it had been but a few seconds. The Xel'Naga artifact had taken her and her charge by the metaphorical balls and flung them across time and space bare minutes before something had wiped it from the skein of the universe.

And now it was spitting them out in a flash of blue between the trees.

The loss of her Swarm hit Kerrigan at once, sending her staggering to her knees on her way out of the tear. Her hands flew to her head and she let out a high-pitched whine as her senses compensated for the fact that her massive army had suddenly been reduced to one.

She'd be grateful that she made it to Fandom later. Right now, she'd need a minute.

[[ for one, and nfb. ]]
on_her_korhal: (qob: back)
Her universe was coming apart.

For weeks now, Kerrigan had heard - felt her creatures as they were ripped from this universe. She had had to step in to keep troop movements from falling apart as they suddenly had to work around absences the other zerg could neither register nor comprehend.

But it was moving too fast.

Weeks, she had dodged and weaved and worked her little ploys to ensure the survival of the swarm-- and now Tarsonis was gone. In and of itself, it meant nothing to her: it was a terran planet, and not a zerg one.

But it meant that now they were in danger. And so as she watched the oddity crawl into being in the distance, all impenetrable clouds and utter nothingness, she took a step back. Towards the Xel'naga artifact. The same one that had gotten her to Fandom in the first place so many years ago.

She was the Swarm. As long as she lived, it survived.

"River."
on_her_korhal: (kerrigan: lurks)
Getting to the building had been the easy part. Getting into the building had been slightly harder, but not impossible. Offices. They were all the same, really, after a while.

The true test was coming up just ahead, though, and Kerrigan's pulse was racing in ways she'd be loathe to admit were comfortably familiar. Adrenaline. Anticipation. The whole damn nine yards that had kept her existence going back in the days when she had orders, not friends.

The lock would be a piece of cake with the aid of their guest.

The rest-- well. Her hand hovered over the stealth button on her suit. Her armor pulsed like it had a life of its own. "It's your turn. This once. And then it's on me."

Whether she was referring to the politician or the cowering mess was left, mostly, in the middle.
on_her_korhal: (kerrigan: sleeps)
Sarah Kerrigan was spread out on the couch, staring up at... some kind of unidentifiable brown spot that had affixed itself there. Party. Party planning. Party.

She ran a hand through her hair. Probably had to get up off the couch... soon... she closed her eyes. Soon could also be later.

[ specifically for one, but open to anyone who'd want to visit before then chronologically ]

Profile

on_her_korhal: (Default)
on_her_korhal

2025

S M T W T F S

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 17th, 2025 07:46 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios