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Lightbringer
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Atlas Pan Booker | Male | Hunter | Heterosexual | M: Rowan Caddel, Calvin Borelson Atlas watched as the first giant, Calvin he remembered, began to speak. He had almost forgotten that he was there due to the second giant’s—Rowan’s—interruption. He remembered his name now but he had almost lost it. His memory wasn’t the finest when it came to people but it was an uphill fight that he was getting too tired to battle much longer. It wasn’t like he could help it. Rowan began to speak dangerously as he played with his switchblade and approached him. He kept his arrow trained at the ginger giant, leaving the blond alone and safe from any danger of a stomach piercing. However he didn’t shoot because he was right, he couldn’t shoot a fellow member even if he was acting like a paranoid jerk. He felt the cold touch of the steel blade on his throat. The sharp knife tickled his neck a little bit, but it definitely had his attention. Atlas stared cooly into Rowan’s sharp green eyes that had a sheen of mistrust in them. He listened intently to what the ginger giant had to say, if he didn’t then he could die. It was obvious that this man’s faith was to be earned by acts and not reputation. Atlas had to smile a little bit, this moment was surely neither of their finest. Teammates turning on teammates due to lack of recognition. We should really be better introduced with everyone. Might save a life, he thought, might’ve saved my life if I was going to die. “Can I prove it?” Atlas asked with a condescending look. “Yeah,” he looked over at Calvin who was definitely seemed more friendly, “that man’s name is Calvin.” His eye contact returned to stare into Rowan’s meadow-green and his dirt-dark eyes narrowed their almond shapes. He was getting sick of this back and forth bravado between themselves. They were after all on the same team. However, he couldn’t help on more scuffle, even if it was only verbal.“And you’re Rowan the Jackass. Is that enough proof to you, Newcomer?” He strained this last word to remind Rowan of his seniority. Rowan pressed the knife down with more pressure. Atlas could feel a little trickle of blood, like one from a razor only that this cut would be so much worse if more pressure would be applied. He then relaxed the bowstring. Not because the monstrous tower of a person told him to, however, but because he knew that his words would have told him that he was truly apart of the group. However, he didn’t removed the arrow from the string and back into his hip quiver, mainly because Rowan was too close for him to unnotch the arrow with the grace and ease that he preferred. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt his weapon. He then heard what Calvin had to put in. Oh wow, this was romantic in this guy’s book. Hmm, I like this guy, he thought, but turn ginger giant into a sexy blonde. Then he heard him refer and he decided to respond, as it would be the friendly thing to do. “I’m sorry Calvin,” he said and changed his eye contact to the more friendlier face. He had to stop himself from saying “Cal” as it would be pushing for any friendship too hard and it would be wrong and awkward in this situation. “I’ve never been good with names. ‘Makes you feel any better, I’ve forgotten the name of my biological pops.” This was more or less true, but wasn’t exactly a lie. His biological father’s name was Helios but he could remember how to pronounce it or how to spell it. “I’m Atlas. Iapetus was—is my actual father.” He corrected himself to the more positive output. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was dead as he didn’t do much physical exercise before the apocalypse. “So, Rowan, buddy, are you going to, I dunno, let me go?” He returned his gaze to the guy with the knife at his throat. “Am I free to go now? ‘Cause those houses aren’t going to sweep themselves.” |
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Lightbringer
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Louis Lee Jackson | Male | Gay | Observer | M: Kolos, Valentina, + Grayson (Dir) Kolos was a cool guy and Valentina was a cool girl. Neither bothered him much and neither seemed to be huge assholes. Louis, while not a fan of much human interaction, was completely fine in the company of these two. That much couldn’t be said of some of the other members who were always climbing to the opportunity to bother him… Honestly, it was as if they craved his glares and cruel stares that prayed for God to strike them dead where they stood. Really, deep, deep, and several layers deeper down, Louis didn’t mind their idiocy. Fifty percent of the time. “Oh, you got pills?” Louis asked softly, perking up as he sat up and extended a hand up to the man to get them. “Let me take a look. I have seen- and taken- my fair share of drugs so I am sure I can figure out what they all are.” As soon as Kolos handed him the pills, he inspected the label of the first bottle. Studying it, he could be heard muttering under his breath as he squinted at it. The soft mandarin color pill bottle still contained a decent amount of pills which was good considering what they were. “If I remember correctly, this one helps with pain. It makes your tongue feel a bit fuzzy, but it works wonders. I was force fed these things at one point… It tastes bitter.” Louis paused, placing the pills down on the ground as he observed the next container, sitting criss-cross to focus better. Louis paused for a moment before laughing to himself. “Holy fuck! Unisom! Never thought I’d see this again!” Louis showed a mischievous smirk to Kolos as he showed him the bottle. “This gives you trippy ass dreams, but it puts you to sleep like a baby on crack. And to think those morons didn’t think I knew they were feeding these to me! Ha! Fucking idiots!!” Louis laughed to himself before his smile faded quickly. He quickly opened his duffle bag and put the pills in the bag beside others pills, tapping the bag with slight pride. “All packed away and safe. That’s all of them right?” That’s when Grayson revealed himself. Grayson was the absolute best person imaginable. Well, not the best, but as close to the best as anyone in Louis’s life has come to be. It was about a year ago when Grayson brought him to the group and, although it took time to warm up to the man, Louis found him to be one of the closest people in his life. It was somewhat disappointing and depressing to think Grayson most likely didn’t care for him as much, but Louis still looked up to him a lot. He acted like his father before everything went down and it was nice to have someone in his life who actually seemed grounded. “‘Eyyyyy Grayson!!” Louis chirped, smiling like he was a totally different person. “Found some supplies!” That was when the image of the strange man with the axe reappeared in his head. “And a masochist. He was wacky. To be fair, I panicked and didn’t throw out the best insults, but he still looked like he enjoyed the pain which I can’t tell if that was him being pervy or about to turn into a crawler fucker… He’s weird but kinda buff? I woulda brought him to the group, but, ya know, he was shady…” Louis briefly muttered a small ‘and he wore a weird turtleneck,’ under his breath. He laid down on the ground as he closed his eyes, his hands on the back of his head. “Oh! And there were two stalker people. Hella strange and shady. I gave them the death glare so they should be smart enough not to come near, but if they do, can I fuck them up?” Louis’s grin grew giddy with excitement, ready to hurt whoever thought sneaking up and spying on his group was a good idea. He wasn’t one who loved hurting people, but this was his group. His and not whoever those two were. “Please? Pleeeeeeeeease??” |
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Neutral
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Rowan Caddel | 21 | Male | Hetero | Newcomer | Mentions: Atlas, Calvin Rowan laughed when the arrow was pointed at him. "Oh, yeah. Real reassuring to someone when they use arrows against me. Even though I can usually dodge them." he said casually, picking at a small spot of dried blood on the switch blade, even though the last part was an exaggeration. He just used that to intimidate and discourage, usually. He said it casually and genuinely enough to sell it. He rolled his eyes slightly when he said who they both were, but he gave him a sharp grin. "That's correct. But don't push it, Hunter." he said, putting the same inflection on the word as he had on Newcomer, pressing the knife down with more pressure (just sort of repeating what you said there) and watched as the man loosened the bowstring. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?" he asked, though he got the feeling it wasn't because of him that he loosened the weapon. He now knew he was truly a part of the group, which put some of Rowan's nerves at ease. The eye contact with the dirt-dark eyes of the man made Rowan uncomfortable, if he was being completely honest. The last eye-contact he'd had with another human that was truly human before this group was with his little sister, when an undead had shown up at their house. All he saw when he looked into someone else's eyes was her eyes, terrified, staring back at him. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn't know if she was alive or dead, and he'd lost sleep at night at first thinking about it. Now, he'd pretty much resigned himself to the fact that she must be dead by now. He lightened up the pressure of the knife a bit as the man spoke to Calvin, still eying him suspiciously. You never knew when there might be a traitor. Rowan tended to be a bit paranoid in these situations, making him extremely dangerous to anyone who crossed his path. Rowan listened to Atlas, and how he said is after correcting himself from saying was. He sighed. They were all just looking for a tiny sliver of hope that their loved ones were alive. He jerked out of his thoughts as Atlas spoke to him, and nodded, pulling the knife away from Atlas' skin, leaving a decent cut that could scar possibly, but not so much that he'd bleed out. "Don't call me buddy." he growled, walking a few steps back to stand beside Calvin. Draven followed, rubbing his head into his master's hand, and Rowan gently stroked Draven. "I'm alright buddy." he murmered, before going back upstairs to see what food he had in his pack. He hadn't eaten for a few days, trying to spread out what he could find over time. He picked up his pack and began rummaging through it, looking for any food. Hope Caddel | 20 | Female | Hetero | Loner | Mentions: Zephyr, Grayson Hope noticed him look towards the forest. She'd always felt at home in the forest. She'd always felt safe. Protected. Now, nowhere was safe. Not for her, not for anyone. "Yeah...." she said, remembering when she had stumbled upon a group that had been preparing some unknown meat. Her eyes had fallen on the bones. Human bones. She had been the one to make it out alive from that one. She had seen red seeing them eating it. She had left them for the night crawlers. They were sloppy kills, so they probably would've attracted them within hours. Minutes, even. She heard him chuckle bitterly, and she figured everyone had seen a lot of shit go down since this all started. "Hm.....baggage, but they can also be trained to hunt, protect, and are used as transport......but they do consume a lot of food. Food that most can't afford to lose." she said simply. "So I understand both sides, wanting to keep animals, and then eating your animals. Both make sense, in some way." she said. "Yeahm I already said, I was being an idiot to go out in broad daylight. Betcha he's gonna tell the leader about that." she said, mentally beating herself up about that. 'I shouldn't have been so stupid as to go out in borad daylight with a suspicious man following me outside!' she thought, slightly annoyed. "Yeah, he seemed pretty crazy.....or just crazy annoyed with our general existence." she commented. "Really don't need to be chastised right now. I get it. I'll be more careful." she said. She looked up when he laughed after her comment about them having to lay low, and was rather surprised and unerved to see him smiling, eyes glistening. "I care about my wellbeing, just sometimes care about others more. If I didn't, and cared for my own wellbeing more than others, you'd be dead." she said bluntly, locking eyes with him, her own glistening like cold steel, the grey flecks more prominent in her green eyes whenever she was angry, annoyed, or really any negative emotion. She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't do it for you to put your life on the line for me. Sort of defeats the purpose of me saving your life, don't ya think?" she asked. "I'm not gonna get you ousted, like I said the last two or three times, I'll. Be. More. Careful." she said. She watched as he opened his mouth to rant more, then looked over her shoulder back at the group, and she turned around to see him looking at the man who Hope had seen before that looked to be the leader of the group. She raised an eyebrow as he spun on his heels and went back to the house, her following a couple steps behind. She snorted slightly at his comment. "Good god, you make me sound terribly annoying." she said jokingly. "Of course, I probably am to most people. Well, I probably WAS to most people." she said, correcting herself. She raised an eyebrow at his offer. "Oh? And what price are we talking?" she asked. It had been annoying trying to use her left arm because of the gash, so his offer greatly intrigued her, but she obviously still didn't trust him entirely. |
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Darkseeker
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Valentina Lopez | Resident | M: Louis, Gray, Kol . Valentina watched as Louis was examining the pills, explaining what each of them were. Amazing. She thought. Val could never do that in a million years. However, Louis did explain that he was on a lot of drugs at one point. It still amazes her how he was able to remember each pill. From the sounds of it, it looks like they could potentially be useful. As long as they are used correctly, of course. . Her attention was immediately drawn to a man that had walked over to them. Grayson. Their leader. She looked up to him as well. He knew how to run a group and how to do it smoothly. Val did admire that about him. She watched as he spoke to Louis, almost as if her and Kolos weren't sitting there. She was about to get up and leave to leave them to interact when suddenly, she heard Grayson's voice directed at her. He had told her to go sweep more of the buildings. Perfect opportunity to be able to find useful supplies. . Val stood to her feet and turned her head towards Grayson. "Of course, Grayson. I'll be back shortly." Valentina said and nodded her head towards him. That is when she was on her way to a building. It was slightly bigger compared to the houses she checked. So that means there has to be more supplies. . Clutching her machete on her back, Val slowly walked into the building. Looking side to side, she noticed the coast was clear. She relaxed her body and went to investigate. She remembered Kolos' words to check everything. That stayed in her mind as she was in the building. She walked into one room that had a ton of drawers and cabinets. She scuffled through the drawers and cabinets, suddenly finding a pocket knife. She slid the knife in her bag and went on to the next room. . When she entered a different room, Val stood in shock at what she saw. In, what she had assumed was blood, wrote, "HE IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU." Valentina had to leave the room as she almost threw up. Luckily, she didn't. For some reason, that room gave her bad vibes. She didn't know if it was simply the writing in blood, the message of it, or just by how to room looked. Val straightened herself up and explored the building a little bit more. |
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Darkseeker
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Kieran Sang Larter Female | Second-in-Command | Mentions: Louis, Kolos, Valentina, Gray, Zephyr (ind); OPEN Song's warm eyes scanned the road as she walked down it, watching a few members of the group mill about, rifting through piles of garbage and unintelligible items. A whisper of a smile traced across her lips as she watched, seeing some individuals discovering items that might be valuable. Turning into a cracked and weed-ridden driveway, she came upon a tan house with clay tile roofing. The style being rather common, it matched many houses along the road. The familiarity of it in these dark times was... odd. It wasn't comforting or off-putting, just... just really strange. It was like the house she had grown up in with Jay, wherever the idiot was right now. Simply walking through the doorway, with old white-washed wooden door knocked down conveniently, Song's hand hovered involuntarily near her belt, which her old machete was hanging dangerously from. Constantly sharpened and cleaned dutifully by her, it was nearly as good as new, and deadly as ever, if requiring slightly more force to cut through things. A floorboard creaked, she nervously went to grab the handle of her blade. Being alone in a dark and dank house was no fun, especially because the windows had been boarded up as a vain attempt to keep out the creatures that had most likely killed the past tenants. Most the shelves seemed empty; the fridge was dead, plus she had no way of storing refrigerated items; many toiletries were used up or gone; garbage bins were overflowing; and blankets were worn thin by overuse and moths. There was little to be found but moldy canned beans and furniture that looked like it would fall over if someone sneezed. Although, sneezing was a constant hazard with the many layers of dust. Wandering into one of the bedrooms, Song opened the walk-in closet to find many moth-eaten articles of clothing. However, she was able to savage a seemingly untouched sports bra, in addition to a light blue t-shirt that wasn't her size. She could ask anybody if they wanted it later. She stuffed both in her pack and moved on to the next building, which Grayson had just come out of to go talk to some of the group about a container of pills, and Valentina had just gone into. |
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Neutral
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Agris ‘Blair’ Bairugih | M | Gay | Loner | 21 | Mentions; Eden, Open. Blair had just gotten comfortable in the tree when he saw someone sit underneath it. Shit. Why now? Well, maybe he’d be able to kill him and get some stuff. That would be nice. So slowly and quietly, he grabbed his CJ Yari and made his way to somewhere he’d be able to stab the dude with it. -- He risked a look and- Holy shit, was that Jackson? He leaned further to get a better look, and then went tumbling out of the tree. Luckily, he ended up landing in front of the guy, who may be Jackson, so he turned in a swift motion grabbing his CJ Yari for if it wasn’t J. -- It wasn’t. Blair could tell that much as soon as he saw the neck. The terrible sense of fashion was the same, the square face, the dark hair, the pale skin, the eye. But Jackson also had a tattoo that matched his own. So eyes narrowing, Blair put the CJ Yari’s sharp ends to his throat. -- Only he kept imagining Jackson now. Fuck. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to think about Ryan and The Hunger Games. This wouldn’t have happened otherwise. -- He huffed and placed the CJ Yari on the good nearby. Fine, he’ll fix up the man’s wound and then tell him to fuck off and find his own tree. Yeah. He has enough bandages for that, right? Yeah, probably. He stole three whole medkits recently. “You steal my weapon, I have two karambits that’ll love to do the job instead. Or a Glock. Take your pick. I’m going to get gauze and if I have any, some rubbing alcohol and a rag. Don’t move, bitch.” -- Okay, the insult wasn’t necessary but Blair was not taking it back. He climbed back into the tree where his stuff had been organized and looked for where he had placed the medkit stuff. Ah, two rolls of medical rank gauze, two relatively full bottles of rubbing alcohol, and a kind of clean rag. Good enough. He grabbed the stuff and jumped down from the tree. -- He turned to the Jackson lookalike and sat down in front of him. “You gonna let me do this or am I wasting my time? I honestly want to know, because if this is a waste of time then you can go ahead and leave. Otherwise, take off the shitty bandage job you did so I can fix it before it gets infected somehow.” Kolos ‘Kol’ Seare | M | Bi | Newcomer | 24 | Mentions; Louis, Valentina, Grayson, Open. “Oh, you got pills?” Kolos nodded, grabbing the three bottles from his bag and passing one to him. There wasn’t a reason to overwhelm him with the three all at once, it’d go faster if Kol just handed one at a time. “Let me take a look. I have seen- and taken- my fair share of drugs so I am sure I can figure out what they all are.” -- Kol watched as Louis began to work, not going to question what was just said yet. “If I remember correctly, this one helps with pain. It makes your tongue feel a bit fuzzy, but it works wonders. I was force fed these things at one point… It tastes bitter.” Kol nodded and handed him the next bottle. -- And then Louis started laughing, which had Kol raising an eyebrow at him. “Holy fuck! Unisom! Never thought I’d see this again! This gives you trippy ass dreams, but it puts you to sleep like a baby on crack. And to think those morons didn’t think I knew they were feeding these to me! Ha! Fucking idiots!! All packed away and safe. That’s all of them right?” -- Kolos actually had to chuckle at that, about to hand him the last bottle when Grayson appeared. “Louis, what ya need, bud?” Kol decided to wait after that, seeing as interrupting a leader anywhere was always a bad idea. And then Grayson looked at him and Valentina. “Since you two seem so busy, you wouldn't mind looking at the end? There's some buildings that I'm pretty sure nobody's looked at just yet.” -- Don’t talk back, Seare, just do it. His mother had said it to him once, and it was a mantra in almost any conversation or situation where someone held more authority than he did. They had the authority for a reason. So he nodded and stood, placing the last pill bottle on the ground next to Louis. Hearing as Valentina spoke he tensed ever so slightly, deciding if she was going to say something it would be better to just keep walking. “Of course, Grayson. I'll be back shortly.” -- Oh. Alright. He didn’t think that would get her into any trouble, given how fair Grayson usually seems to be. So he returned to going to one of the further houses down the street. He wouldn’t study it, he would never study a house’s appearance. It didn’t do anyone any good. -- He stepped in and made sure the coast was clear of any of the ill-fated creatures. It seemed to be. And then he smelled it, rotting flesh. He couldn’t tell what level the decay was at, he’d need to see the body too, but it wasn’t a creature. The stench was different, and he knew this one better. -- He prepared himself for the worst and began making his way inside. Was he supposed to report dead bodies? Like, actual dead bodies? He hasn’t heard anyone else do so, so he would just wait and see if he should. He stepped into another room, scanning it. No ill-fated creature but… Blood on the wall. He didn’t bother to read what it said. It didn’t matter. The people were long dead by now. -- He made his way into the kitchen and checked the pantry. Some canned beans. Why was everyone obsessed with getting beans in an apocalypse? Why couldn’t someone have done potatoes or military rations? Those worked fine too, if not better than the beans would. He sighed and grabbed the beans, putting them into his bag. He checked under the kitchen sink, not much there. He’d find either the broom closet or a bathroom next, this one was smaller than the last one he’d been in anyways. |
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Lightbringer
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Atlas Pan Booker | Male | Hunter | Heterosexual | M: Rowan Caddel, Calvin Borelson Atlas eyes went dull yet glaring and his eyebrows were arched when Rowan claimed to be able to dodge arrows. His facial expression plainly had a sarcastic “really?” written all on it. He doubted anyone could dodge one, even if it was shot from a weak fifteen pound bow. However, he decided not to challenge him on it because things were just wrapping up and he felt like he needed to get back to work. His appearance didn’t change much when the ginger giant put an inflection on his own ranking. So what? He was a hunter; someone with enough survival skills and seniority to have an important job. “Okay,” Atlas agreed when Rowan told him not to call him ‘buddy.’ “I will then call you Giant Coyote Man. They do, after all, say that a master and his dog share common features.” He then waved the ginger giant and his ugly brute goodbye with a smug smile on his face. Then he changed direction to Calvin and he couldn’t help but like the big blond. He smiled to himself, ginger giant and big blond. Why did that tickle me so much? He didn’t know and didn’t care to investigate. “Sorry for the whole threatening thing, Calvin,” He said in a friendlier tone then what he used for Rowan. “You can never know these days, y’know. Anyway, wanna go scavenging with me? We can cover houses twice as fast.” Whether Calvin agreed and followed him or not, Atlas turned for the door with his bow relaxed and arrow still notched. He didn’t forget his bag of supplies. Since this building was already occupied with other group members he didn’t bother searching it—assuming that they already did when they secured it. When he went outside, he couldn’t help but relish in the soft summer warmth. The air was comfortable but not a heavy, compressing humidity that the southeast had a tendency to carry. However, it was drier than what he preferred but it didn’t downcast the good weather. His noble horse was still in front of the building where he had left him. This time, however, most all the clover was well spent. “Good boy, fatty,” he murmured to his horse with a good natured tone. His horse was not fat, however, but actually slowly edging towards underweight, but in the times of plenty he had been known to carry a swollen belly. “Let’s go raiding some.” Wyn didn’t answer but instead tried to steal another bite of grass as his master led him away and to another house which was a fairly decent size. Atlas left his horse in the backyard as there was a decent-ish amount of greenery there. Plus the front yard was nonexistent as it was directly in front of the sidewalk. He entered the front door and walked carefully through the first room which seemed to be an art studio. The majority the paints were splattered everywhere and there were dried drops of brown that didn’t look like either acrylics or watercolor. There were a couple of clean notebooks both of them were a decorative leather. A couple of drawing pencils were on the floor and some where on the messy desk. There was also a fine tip sharpie too. Atlas took the notebooks, gathered as many pencils as he could plus the sharpie. On the walls of the studio there were pieces of modern art that this ill-fatted artist probably painted themselves. He didn’t bother looking through some of the drawers as it would be pointless supplies for art. And unfortunately art isn’t needed. |
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Neutral
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Calvin Borelson | Newcomer | Male | 22 | Mentions: Atlas, Rowan, Open Calvin watched with curiosity at the scene that unfolded before him, watched as the two men continued to threaten each other. It was interesting to him how quickly friend turned to foe if you weren't recognized, even if you were. It seemed to him that these two just had an itch to fight, specifically with each other. Calvin didn't bother getting between the two, he would wait out there little spat, he would only stop Rowan from killing him, if that was necessary. Turns out, it wasn't. Rowan let the man, Atlas, go, moving up the stairs and out of sight with his black dog, whatever it was, it seemed more wild than a dog, probably a coyote. He contemplated following him, he did seem like he was an ally after all. Before he could Atlas stopped him. "That's quite alright, just don't do it again, especially now that we are formally introduced." He called after Atlas as the man started to leave the building. "It would be bad manners!" He was gone. Calvin considered following him, he had invited him to go raid houses with him. Calvin thought over his options. He could follow Rowan and get to know the man better. He could follow Atlas and perhaps dissolve any hostility between them. Or he could set out on his own to explore the houses alone and gather supplies in solitude. The last option did not sound very pleasing to him. Calvin shuffled towards the stairs and glanced up, hearing Rowan moving around. "You alright up there?" He called out pausing for a second before continuing. "I think imma follow this Atlas dude, I'll see you around." He turned to leave then added. "If you get bored come find me and we can go raid some houses." He chuckled then exited the house, glancing around for the smaller man. He spotted him leading his horse away towards a house. Who knew the man had horse. Calvin wondered how he had kept the creature alive for this long. Calvin strode towards them, not bothering to catch up with them, just following. When Atlas stopped and entered a house, Calvin followed. He stopped outside of the house to admire the horse, the animal catching his interest more than Atlas did. He squatted down a little ways away from it, watching it eat. It was satisfying to watch the horse munch the grass, chew, swallow, repeat. For the most part it seemed to ignore him, which he didn't mind. He wasn't much of an animal person, at least not a big animal person, surprisingly. He liked horses, but he had never really been around one for long. He understood dogs better, they were loyal wanted to be pet and fed, he could understand that, many times people would compare Calvin himself to a giant golden retriever. Horses however were a different story, they tended to be moody and had a mind of their own, they didn't need people, people needed them. That made them an unknown to Calvin. He did like them though, from afar anyways. |
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Lightbringer
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Eden Milos Nedbalek - Male - Outsider - Mentions: Blair, Open Eden pressed up his back against the cool bark, knife in one hand and bandages in the other as he wrapped the wounds on his hand. His right was the one that he’d cut, and given that that was his dominant hand, the wrapping job was messy. Not to mention painful, too — his fingers would often brush against the deep gashes during his work, which most certainly didn’t help his aim. He held up his hand through a gap in the foliage of the trees, letting the light shine upon his wounds so that he could at least marginally improve his work. He retracted it pretty damn quick, though, when someone came tumbling down from above him. Eden must’ve picked a bad spot, he figured as some guy came down, basically falling onto his ass. Judging by how rough the fall was (which was kind of hilarious to him, but that was besides the point), the guy’d been resting in the tree above him and fell out when Eden came to settle there. Maybe he should’ve looked up before he chose his spot, he thought, a thought that was reinforced when the stranger thrust up his weapon against his throat. God fucking damn it. This was the second time today, and it was kind of getting stale. The look on his face could really only be described and completely and utterly unimpressed, staring at the redhead like he’d just attempted and miserably failed a magic trick. The man huffed and removed his weapon (coward), allowing Eden to lean back forward and look back down to his hand, initially attempting to just ignore the stranger entirely. He’d had his fun for today and if this guy wasn’t going to try fighting him, he didn’t have to bother with him. It didn’t matter to him, either way. What did make him look up, however, was the guy saying he was going to get alcohol and a rag. He paused in his movement of cutting off more bandages and looked up to him, blank expression turning to incredulous as he went from threatening to… helpful, he guessed? The guy even left his weapon with him (albeit not before telling Eden not to steal it, but that in itself was far too much trust to place in a shady-looking stranger). All he was able to get out was an “uh” before the guy walked past him, climbing up the tree he’d been sitting against. Somewhat disoriented, Eden kicked out his legs (partially because he needed to stretch and partially just because the guy told him not to move) and glanced over at the weapon that had been left behind. He’d seen it before, he was sure, but he didn’t kn — actually, who was he kidding, he knew perfectly well where the knowledge was from. Still, even as he tilted his head back and furrowed his brow, trying to recall as hard as he can all the useless (not so useless now, he supposed) knowledge he’d been given, he couldn’t recall what it was. It was Japanese, he was sure. It started with a S — or maybe a Y? He might’ve been confusing it with some other weapon from Japan… Yeah, there was one with a bunch of branches that started with a S. A shi-whatever. Eden supposed there wasn’t much of a point in considering it for too long, though. He didn’t know how to wield it, either way, so there was no point in stealing it. Eden had just turned back to his bandages again when he heard a loud THUD in front of him. Heaving a sigh, he pulled back from his hand and leaned forward over his lap, letting his arms rest over his legs so that he could look this guy in the eyes as he sat down in front of him. He was carrying rags and small bottles he figured held the alcohol he promised — Eden must’ve been doing something right when he was on his own, then. What did he think he was doing, anyway? He really couldn’t tell what he was getting at — he threatens him and then decides to help him, all the while acting like the helping part was some kind of obligation? Was he a fan, or was he just strange? Eden leaned forward a bit more, just about staring the man down. Cool gray eyes flickered over his face, searching for something he wouldn’t find. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, really — he knew that he wouldn’t be able to tell the man’s story from his face alone, didn’t care about the man’s morals, didn’t care whether there was naivety or hardened bitterness in his eyes. He didn’t even really care whether this was a trick or not — it was certainly an interesting offer, and if there was poison in those bottles of his, there was only one way to find out. In the end, Eden shrugged, pulled back, and still with his perfectly unreadable and disinterested expression, took his knife in his hand and slashed off the bandages on his right. He held it out to the stranger, a slight line of blood bubbling where his knife’d run. "Go for it." |
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Darkseeker
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Zephyr Eliades | Loner | Male | M: Hope, Louis (Briefly) Zephyr stopped in his tracks. An utter silence falling over him as he blocked the entrance to the house, with his broad shouldered back and examined the ground in which the scuffle had happened. "That's very selfish of you," He added, briefly exchanging looks with Hope before resuming his examination of the drying puddle of blood. "Saving people I mean." He paused as if mulling over the idea of helping others in his head. Prior to the apocalypse, Zephyr still wouldn't have sacrificed himself for another. Perhaps this was because the figures in his life had never enforced such common biases, or maybe simply because he was born incapable of feeling those notions. The draw to help someone was superficial almost, only truly ever skimming the surface, until completely blocking it from his mind. How many people had he sacrificed for his own skin? A lot. He had practically lost count at that point. "What if they didn't want to be saved? Maybe, they figured dying at the jaws of one of those things, was better than slowly dying from starvation, or.. " Zephyr trailed as he inhaled sharply, almost as if the thought alone annoyed him exponentially. "Y'know Hope, some people aren't worth saving, and ultimately, you will come to regret doing so one day." He offered a glance over his shoulder, a deadpan expression taking over his previous playful one as he eyed her carefully through his only good eye. "That person you save today, could be your enemy tomorrow." It was almost ironic. Had she joined the group in the near future, she too would be tied in his little plot. Her life would be rendered useless at the hands of his acquaintances, whose only sole purpose was to kill the survivors and assume their supplies. A dismissive grunt escape his lips as he turned to look away again. Zephyr gritted his jaw somewhat upon vaguely catching onto the mans words from earlier. Fuck us up, huh? He thought, clearly amused at the thought of a man no taller than the woman he currently found himself talking with, had threatened to beat the living shit out of the two of them. Or by the looks of by far anyways. Regardless it had sent a wave of mirth over Zephyr. "Seems he already has. So unless you're tryna kick the bucket today, I say we both run, and do the explaining some other day once they realize we aren't rhe real threat." Stepping from within the house, Zephyr gestured his hand in the direction of a house a couple streets further down, not necessarily distanced from the group, but enough where they weren't entirely barging in on them. "Also. I find it very insulting that you'd think I wouldn't make the cut for their group." His eyebrows furrowed in an exaggerated manner to express the distaste. " Yeah, I may look a tad bit rough on the edges, but I'm genuinely a good guy Y'know? Plus, I know how to handle myself very well." He mustered a weak smile again, completely brushing aside the fact that he would've been made a meal had it not been for this nosy nobody. Securing his lance on his back, Zephyr started down the street, opposite to the survivors, before coming to a cool stop once again. "Teach me something." He finally concluded in response to his previous request. "I'll properly care for that wound, as long as you teach me something I have yet to learn. Any skill is a luxury these days, and as annoying and naive as you may be. I'm sure even you have something of value to me." |
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Summer 
Night Weather: 
Clear Moon: 
