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oliver
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Jonah Martinelli
The Church | Anxious | Open for interactions
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AncientBird
Reptile with wings and plumes.
.: Jesse Murre :.
Jesse was walking among the crowd heading for the church. It was something he usually doesn't do on habit and the former hermit found himself quite irritated to do so against his will. However, for the the time he spent with himself out in the wood, one thing that he know was that he will have to adapt to the situation, or die, or face something even way worse... Now, he is a part of the society again, a citizen of Precinct 58 and whatever they do here, he would have to do so as well.
Darby was perching on Jesse's shoulder. Unlike her companion, she was excited and restless, seeing lots of people gathering in the same place. Perhaps she could find some opportunities to get extra food here. The raven croaked and puffed her beard before taking off, cawing loudly. "Guess you are leaving again, huh? See you back at the house then..." Jesse mumbled, getting frustrated even more as his closest companion that he is comfortable with most left.
Stepping into the church. Jesse looked for a space to stand and be elusive as much as possible. He found a corner, anchored himself there and listened to whatever announcement that required the entire precinct to join.
Hearing about the death of Joseph Martinelli, the head governor of Precinct 58, Jesse was surprised, but it wasn't anything to him. Death at this point is a common thing... Throughout his life, it had dulled him to the point of feeling nothing about it. Although Joseph was the one who welcomed Jesse into precinct 58 4 months ago, they hadn't interacted much since as the governor was always quite busy doing his job while Jesse also mostly kept to himself. Still, the action of the late head governor was the very first act of kindness and friendship from human that Jesse had ever received since the death of his younger brother, the last of his family members years ago. If he could do anything in return, then he would probably join Joseph's funeral the next day to pay his respect.
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oliver
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Gallus
Fit For The Gallows
Ediza never bothered with the church. It was an old thing, seemingly intent on rotting away despite the many attempts to restore it. And the preacher did try. The windows were fixed and there was a fresh coat of white paint, but beneath all of that remained the scars of what broke the world. Damage was inevitable, it had been erected long before Ediza was born. Probably even before her own mother, though she'd never bothered to ask how old she was. All she remembered of her age was her face, how young she seemed yet so utterly ancient. She'd never bothered to ask her mother about churches either. For all Ediza knew, they were structures meant to loom and creak and bring bad news.
"He's dead. He died this morning."
Ah. And there it was.
Ediza's footsteps were silent as she joined the crowd. She was late, her own personal hunting excursion taking far longer than usual, but she'd arrived in time to hear what she needed. The governor was dead. The news didn't hit first. It settled in on her shoulders like a resting hawk, surprising at first, but not entirely heavy. The longer it was carried, however, the heavier it grew, until the full weight of the news hit. The governor was dead.
There was by no means a closeness between her and the dead man. She barely knew him, save for as the man who'd probably throw her out if he found her illegal stash of liquid vice in the woods. She could even remember hating him, but that was when she was younger when he was still kicking. When every face on the council, every guard with a weapon, was no more than a monster waiting to be let loose. But that was years ago, and nowadays she recognized the importance of a strong authority -- as long as said authority kept away from her bad habits -- and the worry of losing it. It was not grief that turned her stomach, but pure unease that grew the closer she stared at Jonah.
She knew Jonah as much as she knew Joseph. That wasn't entirely true, no. She had caught wind of his reputation as a hunter, but it was nothing more than a passing mention. A statement of who he no longer was. But she did recognize the look on his face when he finally dismissed the crowd. It wasn't exact, far from it, but a familiar pang sparked in the recesses of her mind. It was enough that the huntress found herself lingering while some people left.
Ediza clung to the sides of the church, only the softest creak of a floorboard giving away her approach. What was she to say? I'm sorry, just like the rest of these assholes. Take my pity and have a nice day. Comforts were never her forte. People in general, really. It was why she stayed away, why she stayed out longer than allowed. But leaving without saying something felt wrong. It was far too late to turn back anyway, as Ediza found herself stopping a few feet away from Jonah. Say something.
"It sucks. That your dad died."
"He's dead. He died this morning."
Ah. And there it was.
Ediza's footsteps were silent as she joined the crowd. She was late, her own personal hunting excursion taking far longer than usual, but she'd arrived in time to hear what she needed. The governor was dead. The news didn't hit first. It settled in on her shoulders like a resting hawk, surprising at first, but not entirely heavy. The longer it was carried, however, the heavier it grew, until the full weight of the news hit. The governor was dead.
There was by no means a closeness between her and the dead man. She barely knew him, save for as the man who'd probably throw her out if he found her illegal stash of liquid vice in the woods. She could even remember hating him, but that was when she was younger when he was still kicking. When every face on the council, every guard with a weapon, was no more than a monster waiting to be let loose. But that was years ago, and nowadays she recognized the importance of a strong authority -- as long as said authority kept away from her bad habits -- and the worry of losing it. It was not grief that turned her stomach, but pure unease that grew the closer she stared at Jonah.
She knew Jonah as much as she knew Joseph. That wasn't entirely true, no. She had caught wind of his reputation as a hunter, but it was nothing more than a passing mention. A statement of who he no longer was. But she did recognize the look on his face when he finally dismissed the crowd. It wasn't exact, far from it, but a familiar pang sparked in the recesses of her mind. It was enough that the huntress found herself lingering while some people left.
Ediza clung to the sides of the church, only the softest creak of a floorboard giving away her approach. What was she to say? I'm sorry, just like the rest of these assholes. Take my pity and have a nice day. Comforts were never her forte. People in general, really. It was why she stayed away, why she stayed out longer than allowed. But leaving without saying something felt wrong. It was far too late to turn back anyway, as Ediza found herself stopping a few feet away from Jonah. Say something.
"It sucks. That your dad died."
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RedLeftHand36
Your Host Tonight
Edward Carver
Fuck, he hated churches.
Ed was among the last to arrive at the kind of place he had actively avoided for most of his life. He could still feel the headaches of Sunday school from when he was just a little tyke. And then how many times in his later life did the local pastor always act so superior when engaging in conversation with him? The tone of the pity you'd have on a junkie... he loathed it. At least his parents were - had been - understanding enough. But days long past were gone and left in the dust. He was here, in the now. The present. What is. And that 'what is' was apparently not what he expected. The smell of cigarette wafted into the air as Ed leaned on the wall, hanging out next to the exit as he took a slow drag of tobacco. One hand in the pocket of his dirty, old, olive-coloured jacket, he fumbled around with his lighter in the other as the announcement began. The reflection of Jonah Martinelli caught in the blackness of Ed's sunglasses.
The mayor is dead.
Ed stopped fumbling with his lighter, and put that hand, along with the metal zippo, into the other pocket of his jacket. It was strange to think about, to say the least. He certainly couldn't say he knew Joseph well, let alone had some opinion. But he knew Jonah, at least somewhat. And Jonah was a gentler soul than some. After the announcement of his placement as mayor of the precinct, and the addendum of his father's funeral going on tomorrow, Ed headed off to the restroom before the crowd could even remotely overwhelm him. He slowly stepped towards one of the sinks, took off his sunglasses, hanging them on the neck of his shirt, and turned on the faucet before splashing his face with cold water. He looked into the mirror. The darkness under bloodshot eyes was getting worse by the day. Sleep was hard to come by when dread was so omnipresent in one's life. He dried off his face with a couple of paper towels, and put back on his sunglasses before heading back out. Ed clung to the walls as he looked around a bit. There he was. Jonah. There were two things they had in common, now: Anxiety and dead parents. He remembered in years past, Jonah was one of the hunters. Back when they were more like an actual group, as opposed to a group of individuals. But then there were the people. They either left already, or clung to the man like flies that caught wind of rotting food.
Society had its ways of imprisoning even the innocent, even in the post-apocalypse when society was scarce and spread thin. It was always either never a moment's peace, or all alone with the worst of your thoughts. Personally, Edward preferred the worst of himself over the mindlessly cacophonous company of half-hearted sympathy. But that was just him. Taking another drag, he took a long look at Jonah Martinelli before heading off and out the door. He supposed it was time to pick some funeral flowers.
Fuck, he hated churches.
Ed was among the last to arrive at the kind of place he had actively avoided for most of his life. He could still feel the headaches of Sunday school from when he was just a little tyke. And then how many times in his later life did the local pastor always act so superior when engaging in conversation with him? The tone of the pity you'd have on a junkie... he loathed it. At least his parents were - had been - understanding enough. But days long past were gone and left in the dust. He was here, in the now. The present. What is. And that 'what is' was apparently not what he expected. The smell of cigarette wafted into the air as Ed leaned on the wall, hanging out next to the exit as he took a slow drag of tobacco. One hand in the pocket of his dirty, old, olive-coloured jacket, he fumbled around with his lighter in the other as the announcement began. The reflection of Jonah Martinelli caught in the blackness of Ed's sunglasses.
The mayor is dead.
Ed stopped fumbling with his lighter, and put that hand, along with the metal zippo, into the other pocket of his jacket. It was strange to think about, to say the least. He certainly couldn't say he knew Joseph well, let alone had some opinion. But he knew Jonah, at least somewhat. And Jonah was a gentler soul than some. After the announcement of his placement as mayor of the precinct, and the addendum of his father's funeral going on tomorrow, Ed headed off to the restroom before the crowd could even remotely overwhelm him. He slowly stepped towards one of the sinks, took off his sunglasses, hanging them on the neck of his shirt, and turned on the faucet before splashing his face with cold water. He looked into the mirror. The darkness under bloodshot eyes was getting worse by the day. Sleep was hard to come by when dread was so omnipresent in one's life. He dried off his face with a couple of paper towels, and put back on his sunglasses before heading back out. Ed clung to the walls as he looked around a bit. There he was. Jonah. There were two things they had in common, now: Anxiety and dead parents. He remembered in years past, Jonah was one of the hunters. Back when they were more like an actual group, as opposed to a group of individuals. But then there were the people. They either left already, or clung to the man like flies that caught wind of rotting food.
Society had its ways of imprisoning even the innocent, even in the post-apocalypse when society was scarce and spread thin. It was always either never a moment's peace, or all alone with the worst of your thoughts. Personally, Edward preferred the worst of himself over the mindlessly cacophonous company of half-hearted sympathy. But that was just him. Taking another drag, he took a long look at Jonah Martinelli before heading off and out the door. He supposed it was time to pick some funeral flowers.
BreeDav
I do desire we may be better strangers
HARPER LOGAN
Precinct 58's Master Weaponsmith, Ironsmith, and Woodworker
Harper was late to the town hall meeting in the church. That was nothing new. Most of the other precincts he’d lived in over his life hadn’t had a town meeting or didn’t require that temporary residents attended. He always lost track of time. It was so easy to forget the clock while working. Nothing kept his attention like a project as it was taking form. Even now as he hurried toward the church, his mind was on the unsharpened blade that he’d left on his workbench. It was beautiful; dark and thin, curved, and long. In the moments before plunging it into oil to cool, he’d been possessed by the idea that the point of the sword was almost thin enough to resemble a spire. He went back to work, reshaping the blade and twisting the tip so that it had a beautiful spiraling point. That was the moment he’d seen the clock. 5 minutes until the morning meeting and 10 minutes walk from the church. He’d started running, grabbing his backpack from the floor by the forge’s door.
The Precinct was mostly empty by the time he made it into the city center. Stalls had been closed up and everyone had gathered in the church. He entered as quietly as he could, pressing a hand against his chest to try and quiet the heavy breaths that originated there. He drew the eyes of a few citizens who’d heard his entrance, but they were all quickly turned back to the front of the room.
“He’s dead. He died this morning.”
Harper’s eyes widened. He looked around, leaning towards one of the people who stood in the back of the church with him “Who? Who died? Was it an attack?” He was shushed by a woman with an angry expression.
As Harper listened to Jonah, he realized that it was the old governor who had died. He hated the idea of death. Just not existing, not being here anymore… It was unfathomable. In a world filled with violence and weaponry, the governor had died in the night. That was something to be thankful for, he supposed. He stepped aside and let the crowd slowly pass him. He figured that while he was in town he should visit the market and see what scrap metal the scavengers have brought in, but it would take everyone a while to make it back to their shops. So he waited, sitting in one of the church’s pews. .
The Precinct was mostly empty by the time he made it into the city center. Stalls had been closed up and everyone had gathered in the church. He entered as quietly as he could, pressing a hand against his chest to try and quiet the heavy breaths that originated there. He drew the eyes of a few citizens who’d heard his entrance, but they were all quickly turned back to the front of the room.
“He’s dead. He died this morning.”
Harper’s eyes widened. He looked around, leaning towards one of the people who stood in the back of the church with him “Who? Who died? Was it an attack?” He was shushed by a woman with an angry expression.
As Harper listened to Jonah, he realized that it was the old governor who had died. He hated the idea of death. Just not existing, not being here anymore… It was unfathomable. In a world filled with violence and weaponry, the governor had died in the night. That was something to be thankful for, he supposed. He stepped aside and let the crowd slowly pass him. He figured that while he was in town he should visit the market and see what scrap metal the scavengers have brought in, but it would take everyone a while to make it back to their shops. So he waited, sitting in one of the church’s pews. .
coded by natasha.
LiquidSaint
New Member
-Talulah Tenrec-
Talulah sighed and rubbed her eyes as she staggered to the back entrance of the assembly chamber. She hated town meetings, it meant she had to get up early and start work late. They never had anything interesting to say, if there was anything that concerned her Joseph would come to engineering and let them know himself. So it was just an excuse to stand there like a zombie and daydream about whatever popped into her head while the town leadership blathered on.
Today, however, Joseph's son Jonah took the podium instead. Talulah had only met him a few times, he was a nice enough guy, kind of quiet. "Denizens of Precinct 58... Um... You're probably wondering why I'm talking up here instead of my father. Well..." Jonah paused, looking at something Talulah couldn't see. "He's dead. He died this morning." Talulah snapped awake with a gasp. Joseph had been a nice man, and had seemed to keep th precinct running smoothly enough. She hadn't known him well but it was still a shock to hear. She wondered what would happen next, would there be an election or something? "I'm the new governor, it seems. I'm... I promise I'm going to do my best to keep everything running smoothly and improve in places that we can. Thankfully, I've got the council behind me to do that." Jonah continued, looking at the other council members. I guess that answers that. Talulah thought to herself.
Jonah continued on, talking about the funeral, but Talulah wasn't really listening. "Oh shit." She whispered under her breath. This was a big deal, the death of a governor and the appointment of a new one; things would change. Would it be for the better, or worse? At the end of the day, how much would it really affect her? Would she even notice the difference in a week? Six months? She shrugged. Some surly guy in an old military jacket shoved past her smoking a cigarette, and that sounded like a great idea. She pulled her cigarettes from her messenger bag and lit one, heading off towards work. She kept her gaze on the ground, trying to remember that everyone wasn't actually staring at her, it just felt like it.
Apparently there was something worth paying attention to at the town meeting today after all. Only time would tell what it actually meant. Talulah had plenty of her own problems to worry about in the meantime. Not the least of which was the intake manifold on Generator 6; which her supervisor was probably staring at and wondering why it was making that damn noise right now...
Socio
Always tired, never asleep
KAIA BECKER
Kaia trudged reluctantly towards the church, the habitual spring in her step absent due to her bitter mood. It wasn't that she hated the idea of being packed into some ancient church to listen to the council drone on about whatever it was they deemed so important, well okay maybe it was. What bothered her most though was missing out on the hunting trip she had planned for the day, she had wanted to leave early to cover as much ground as she could, now she was going to be stuck inside some stuffy church that looked like it could collapse at any moment. She sighed as she spotted her mother taking count at the door, she looked stressed, even more so than usual, clearly whatever the meeting was about it wasn’t good news. Kaia hurried inside as to avoid an unnecessary conversation, she found her place next to one of the hastily repaired windows and scanned her eyes across the room full of people in front of her. The chatter quieted down as Jonah began to speak, he seemed nervous, uncomfortable. She wondered briefly why it was Jonah addressing them and not his father, though that question was soon answered by the man’s next words.
“He’s dead, he died this morning.” Kaia’s eyebrows raised, maybe this meeting wasn’t as boring as she had once thought. She hadn’t known Joseph well enough to dislike the man but she certainly held no sadness for his passing. She shot a glance towards her mother who sat at the front of the church tears falling from her face, of course she was crying, she seemed to possess every ounce of empathy that Kaia lacked. If there was any upside to this it was that her mother would be far too distracted to bother her for the next few days. As the meeting began to wrap up Kaia pushed out of the church doors taking in a deep breath as the fresh air hit her face, she didn’t plan on sticking around for the sob fest that was sure to follow the meeting. For a moment Kaia marvelled at the empty precinct that encompassed her, most of the citizens were still in the church, leaving the rest of the precinct deserted. She jogged the rest of the way back towards her house, if you could call it that, and grabbed her beaten up backpack shoving her map and knives into it before slinging it over her shoulder. She wasn't going to let the rest of the day go to waste, as she headed towards the edge of the precinct the news from the meeting faded into the back of her mind.
“He’s dead, he died this morning.” Kaia’s eyebrows raised, maybe this meeting wasn’t as boring as she had once thought. She hadn’t known Joseph well enough to dislike the man but she certainly held no sadness for his passing. She shot a glance towards her mother who sat at the front of the church tears falling from her face, of course she was crying, she seemed to possess every ounce of empathy that Kaia lacked. If there was any upside to this it was that her mother would be far too distracted to bother her for the next few days. As the meeting began to wrap up Kaia pushed out of the church doors taking in a deep breath as the fresh air hit her face, she didn’t plan on sticking around for the sob fest that was sure to follow the meeting. For a moment Kaia marvelled at the empty precinct that encompassed her, most of the citizens were still in the church, leaving the rest of the precinct deserted. She jogged the rest of the way back towards her house, if you could call it that, and grabbed her beaten up backpack shoving her map and knives into it before slinging it over her shoulder. She wasn't going to let the rest of the day go to waste, as she headed towards the edge of the precinct the news from the meeting faded into the back of her mind.
seasonedcat
bloodless
♡Angel♡
He adjusted his cardigan sleeve bored as he listened to the crowd gasp and begin gossiping as the news was dropped. People's biggest questions were about how it happened and if the pretty boy would be able to handle his new job. Angel himself was aware that the mention of how he died was left out, he wondered why. It most likely was just too painful for him to talk about. Either way he was going to have to look into that, sadly he had not been on the team that took care of the governor.
The meeting ended soon after the big announcement, leaving everyone to begin talking loudly as they left the church. Some were in tears while others in shock. After many years seeing people die that sort of fades on you. He waited till more people left so he did not get trampled, his outfit could get dust on it. As he finally left he walked behind a large man with sunglasses during the day? "A cool and mysterious one, nice.~" he hummed lightly under his breath with a light laugh as he walked.
RedLeftHand36
AncientBird
Reptile with wings and plumes.
.: Jesse Murre :.
Leaving the church, Jesse walked among the crowd that were also making their way back to their daily life. Jesse silently moved about. Around him were people speaking and discussing about the death of their late head governor. Despite being aloof most of the time, Jesse always listen to things around him... It was an essential thing to do, especially when he had to navigate alone in the wilderness. However, this time it was people expressing their thought on the matter that he barely know about. Even if it wasn't as dire as having to listen for danger in the wild, it should at least made him learn more about how this society function.
Older people seemed to be mostly sad and upset by the news. Some expressed their concern over the passing of their long trusted governor and several seemed to be skeptical about how Joseph died. Nonetheless, this event certainly put a lot of pressure on the citizens of precinct 58.
Jesse finally arrived at small building by the side of the main road in the town. It was a convenient store called Wright-Maxwell's Mart. In the front, a small, thin woman could be seen opening the lock of the shop's door. Jesse approached her and the lady seemed to noticed of this silent company. "Oh, greeting Jesse." Said the woman. "Greeting Dorothy..." Jesse replied. "Are you in hurry for something? Sorry, I just got back from the church and this old lock wouldn't let me in..." Said the woman, seemingly frustrated. "...Let me try..." Said Jesse as he stepped in. With a few twist of the key, the lock was opened.
Both of them stepped inside. The woman took out her coat and bonnet and hung them up. She was a middle-age, around Jesse's age if not a few years older, however she still looked relatively young for her age. She tied her long hair into a bun and put up an apron, then quickly dusted the counter. She then turned back at Jesse with a warm smile even though she still seemed stressed by the event earlier. "Thanks for helping me in my shop and sorry for the mess... I didn't expect a customer this early... So, what do you want?"
"I ran out of matches... You have some?..." Jesse replied with a plain expression. "Oh sure, they are over there in the basket." Said the woman as she pointed out the location.
Dorothy Wright-Maxwell had been running this convenient store for a decade with her late husband who passed away several years ago. The widow had no children and had lived alone ever since. Her shop was smaller than others in the town, but since moving into Precinct 58, this shop was Jesse's favorite place to fill up on equipment and other stuff he need. The sole reason was Dorothy. At the other shops, the owners are usually skeptical or mistrustful toward the ex-hermit and some seemed to be questioning him or try to get him to speak more than they should. Dorothy however, usually let Jesse be. Whenever she has to actually interact, she is always kind, soft spoken and goes right to the point, not trying to drag conversation for too long unless Jesse wishes so. Jesse feels comfortable around her and even though he hadn't really talked more than a few line to her each time he visit, he often found himself linger in her shop longer than he would do else where.
Jesse came up to the counter with a pair of matches boxes. He leaned on the counter and handed Dorothy money. The man stopped for a while and suddenly, he spoke. "How was Joseph?... For all those time." Dorothy looked at Jesse with a surprise expression, not expecting this man before her to start a conversation. "Oh, poor Joseph? I think he was nice... He did make this place as tidy and peaceful as he could. He was as friendly and hardworking as a head governor could be but we were not really that close... Still a big loss for us all though... Poor Jonah will have a big shoes to fill from now on." Said Dorothy. "Jonah?" Asked Jesse. "Joseph's son, the one that talked on the podium, you didn't know him?" Dorothy asked with an arch brow. "Oh him..." Replied Jesse, he never really paid attention of who was who's relatives that much before. He had seen Jonah before, just didn't catch his name or knew his relation with Joseph.
"Jonah is a good kid, but I think he should ease up a bit more... He always seems... Stressed." Dorothy said. "Well, Kind of understandable actually, knowing what he has waiting for him... Still, I am betting that he will do great, just need sometimes to adjust and maybe to mourn his loss." Dorothy then stopped and looked at Jesse. "Do you have anything with Joseph, Jesse?" Asked the woman. "...Not much, we just talked..." Jesse said, paused for a bit and continued. "...He accepted me and Darby in..." Dorothy looked at the man before her in silent then she smiled again. "Do you... Maybe want to go to his funeral tomorrow?" She asked. "I plan to go as well, perhaps you could come along with me if you like?" Added the woman.
Jesse paused for a great deal and then he nodded to her invitation. He had never been to any ceremony since his old life was taken away after the blast... He didn't know if he could act properly in the situation... However, if Dorothy will be with him, he might find some solace to calm himself down. Jesse nodded again to say good bye to the shopkeeper and walked out of the shop with his purchase. A black figure suddenly landed on his shoulder.
"There you are, Darby..." Jesse said as he looked over to the raven, who somehow got a piece of pancake in her beak. "Ready to go out and hunt something?" Jesse asked as he headed back to their house.
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