{se} all that crawl and skitter

Ophelia

we're just two ghosts
swimming in a glass half empty

Ophelia is not as impacted by the impact (hah) as others. They have lived in the Grounds their entire life, and never left it. The damage is minimal, and Ophelia does not care about regions they have never been to. Screaming in the inner quarter, however, is a more immediate and pressing concern.

Ophelia jogs toward the sound, head tilted slightly and eternal-daydreaming expression slightly crinkled with concern. People are fleeing in droves, and behind them are spiders. Wine spiders - except they look wrong. Given the infect variants Ophelia has already seen, they can only assume this is more of the same, and they pull their scythe off their back with a little hum of sound, generally unflappable.

Only one other person seems to be taking a stand, and Ophelia is surprised to not recognize them - though it's equally startling to see someone who looks so similar. Smiling slightly in encouragement, Phi swings their scythe to cut the webbing in an arc, and lifts a hand to direct the fire in the street lamps to leap out of their cages and burn swathes of spiders closest to their halo glows.

trying vainly to forget
the pain that came with heartbeats