'Alright, this is getting ridiculous!' Harold thought as he made his way home. The tingling sensation kept growing stronger and weaker at random, though he was beginning to note that they particularly spiked when he was around places that had suffered some damage. Even these were hit and miss though as some places suffered structural damage and yet had almost no tingling coming from his head at all, while even in places that had minima damage could sometimes cause his head to go crazy, so he ruled out the possibility of it being a damage sense. It was only sheer stubbornness that kept him from going back to the doctors and telling them about it.
In an effort to get home quicker and avoid the rubble and buildings, Harold took a detour through the park, figuring that if it kept tingling around buildings, then it would be easier to move as far as he could from them instead of getting close and dealing with it. This worked out until, just off of a walkway, sticking out of a bush, he spotted a dead dog, one of those...pugs? Pitbulls? Was there a difference? He didn't know and really didn't care as he walked towards it's general area.
It seemed to have been killed by a falling tree branch, probably during the quake. He felt a bit bad for it but just shrugged his shoulders and walked on, after all, nothing could be done for it and it wasn't like he would be punished for it. Then the tingling came back, hitting him hard, stopping him in his tracks. Calling it intense was putting it mildly, as he began holding and pounding his head, trying to get the sensation out of there with movement, pressure, whatever he could. Eventually, he was able to back away far enough to at least lower the intensity of the sensation, and was able to compose his thoughts.
At first, he began to question what just happened, wondering if some vengeful dog spirit had tried to bite him, but dismissed this idea quickly as the sensation was already present beforehand. He began to build a new theory then, using whatever high school science that he could remember to deduce what was happening. He first began to try and get close to the pug again, which resulted in the same sensation coming back. Next, he began walking around, going around the dog and looking for another dead thing. He found one in a dead bird, not an uncommon sight in any city, and tried doing the same as with the pug, getting a similar result. Every dead thing he came near on his journey home gave the same feeling, giving him ample warning when such a sensation would occur, though he investigated as much as he could before it became too intense. He even found a body of someone who had died and not been gound yet with this radar-like feeling, notifying the authorities of what he had found and streching the truth a bit as to how he found him. As he went, he also noticed that the semsation was getting less and less potent as his mind became used to it.
At last, he made it to his apartment which to his relief he found to be relatively intact. It seemed that nobody had died as je climbed the stairs and entered in. His apartment was a bit of a mess, the TV had fallen over but amazingly remained intact...outwardly. The dishes were ruined though and the few pictures he found the time to put up would need new frames but overall, there wasn't much that needed to be replaced. He decided to put that off as he headed to his room, fell face first into his bed, and contemplated what he had learned today.
'So i have Deathdar...Radeath? This will come in use, surely...as soon as pigs fly and tina fey becomes a turtle.'
He guessed that it was from the earthquake and weird energy brought out from it... this cataclysmic event, as the Caller had called it (or was he paraphrasing?). Well, as long as it didn't kill him or shorten his life in any way he could work around it...assuming that it didn't get worse. Anyways, at least he knew what was causing the tingling sensation now...so now what?
'Probably nothing. Life goes on, weird ability be damned...'
As if on cue, his cell phone started to ring. He answered to find a familiar voice on the other side.
"Harold? You there?"
Harold sighed a breath of relief and said, "Yeah Tristan, i'm here. How is everyone?"
In an effort to get home quicker and avoid the rubble and buildings, Harold took a detour through the park, figuring that if it kept tingling around buildings, then it would be easier to move as far as he could from them instead of getting close and dealing with it. This worked out until, just off of a walkway, sticking out of a bush, he spotted a dead dog, one of those...pugs? Pitbulls? Was there a difference? He didn't know and really didn't care as he walked towards it's general area.
It seemed to have been killed by a falling tree branch, probably during the quake. He felt a bit bad for it but just shrugged his shoulders and walked on, after all, nothing could be done for it and it wasn't like he would be punished for it. Then the tingling came back, hitting him hard, stopping him in his tracks. Calling it intense was putting it mildly, as he began holding and pounding his head, trying to get the sensation out of there with movement, pressure, whatever he could. Eventually, he was able to back away far enough to at least lower the intensity of the sensation, and was able to compose his thoughts.
At first, he began to question what just happened, wondering if some vengeful dog spirit had tried to bite him, but dismissed this idea quickly as the sensation was already present beforehand. He began to build a new theory then, using whatever high school science that he could remember to deduce what was happening. He first began to try and get close to the pug again, which resulted in the same sensation coming back. Next, he began walking around, going around the dog and looking for another dead thing. He found one in a dead bird, not an uncommon sight in any city, and tried doing the same as with the pug, getting a similar result. Every dead thing he came near on his journey home gave the same feeling, giving him ample warning when such a sensation would occur, though he investigated as much as he could before it became too intense. He even found a body of someone who had died and not been gound yet with this radar-like feeling, notifying the authorities of what he had found and streching the truth a bit as to how he found him. As he went, he also noticed that the semsation was getting less and less potent as his mind became used to it.
At last, he made it to his apartment which to his relief he found to be relatively intact. It seemed that nobody had died as je climbed the stairs and entered in. His apartment was a bit of a mess, the TV had fallen over but amazingly remained intact...outwardly. The dishes were ruined though and the few pictures he found the time to put up would need new frames but overall, there wasn't much that needed to be replaced. He decided to put that off as he headed to his room, fell face first into his bed, and contemplated what he had learned today.
'So i have Deathdar...Radeath? This will come in use, surely...as soon as pigs fly and tina fey becomes a turtle.'
He guessed that it was from the earthquake and weird energy brought out from it... this cataclysmic event, as the Caller had called it (or was he paraphrasing?). Well, as long as it didn't kill him or shorten his life in any way he could work around it...assuming that it didn't get worse. Anyways, at least he knew what was causing the tingling sensation now...so now what?
'Probably nothing. Life goes on, weird ability be damned...'
As if on cue, his cell phone started to ring. He answered to find a familiar voice on the other side.
"Harold? You there?"
Harold sighed a breath of relief and said, "Yeah Tristan, i'm here. How is everyone?"