Realistic or Modern 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 — at the end of the world

[Aegis]

SCENE THREE
The Fight

In Collaboration with Safton​

For the first time in a year and a half, Connor was utterly alone. There was no other way to sugarcoat it or to convince himself that it was any way other than it was. Every time he was able to bring his eyes about the room he expected to see Tanner coming to find him or playing or sleeping or... something. Yet, he was alone in a room in a place that sent every survival instinct he had firing on cylinders with each creak of the air vents. The somber atmosphere alone seemed to seep under the doorframes and erode at one's thoughts, but he still he held firm an unbreakable exterior.

The LT's appearance was strangely welcome as the door popped open and in appeared a rather well-kept man. However, the joy of company was short-lived compared to the horror of his suspicions being confirmed by the LT's announcement. At first, it was just a few solemn nods from the soldier as he coped with the reality of his situation. He knew then and there that he should've let Freddy pass, but his overactive mind just wouldn't let the danger slip by without confronting it-- too dangerous. The cell seemed very small. He felt very small beneath the reality of his choices and the lack of Tanner's whereabouts being privy to him.

"In that case, let me speak to my boy."

Connor may have been overstepping the bounds of the last rites afforded to him, but he needed to take that chance.

“No can do. You want to see the kid again, you go out there and you take care of business.” The enforcer raised a placating hand. “Don’t you worry, he’s being well taken care of.”

Yet, as the LT spoke, another horrible fact of the situation settled on the soldier's mind. Connor gazed upward to the man across from him-- shadow captured in creases of his solemn face, "Am I gonna have to kill this man?"

He didn't want to-- not by a long shot. Connor didn't want to have to kill anyone else, but even more so he didn't want to have to do it in front of Tanner if they were to make him watch.

The LT crossed his arms again, arching an eyebrow as he gave Connor a pointed look. “If you don’t, he’ll sure as hell kill you.”

Bullyboy Squad NanLia BeyondDandy​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

SCENE 2 and 3
The Helicopter and The Fight​

"Fuck you! Ain't bit!" Toni shoved Lawrence back before Denise used her mother voice when getting in between them. Toni was still on edge even after the machine touched the ground and their wrecked party spilled out of the chopper.

He was ready to get the hell away from the courtyard and get all the rotten blood off of himself when King directed the order at Toni.

Da fuk?! He saved the leader's ass back there! He just saved the fucking pilot too!

Glaring as King marched away with his bodyguards, Toni spat thick phlegm in the dirt. Muttering something in his local dialect. He looked at the chopper, at the mess inside and growled to himself before forcing his knotted muscles to move. He grabbed the dead man's ankles and yanked his body out of the bird, letting his back and skull hit the pavement.

The enforcer paused, staring at the dead man's face. The eyes were open and the mouth was gaped. Old spurt of blood gradually coagulated over his chin. The blood that hit the side of Toni's face earlier when Denise stabbed the bastard.

Toni looked like from a fucking slaughterhouse movie.

"Spot-less." He repeated King's words through clenched teeth and hurled his body into motion. Hammering his foot down at the peaceful expression of the freshly killed undead. The sole of his boot slammed down again and again, smacking against the red sludge with satisfying squelches until the ungodly sound of facial fractures crackled in the air.

Toni panted, staring at the caved skull and gray matter shining through the fissures. Some people who stayed to admire the helicopter witnessed his violent outburst.

"What!" He snapped at them.

Then he looked back at the machine. "Fuckin spotless…"

BeyondDandy Namazu Togy The Cat Man
NanLia Aegis Safton ​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy​

Cabrera was pissed.

It was evident what Nate tried to do. Why he sneaked into the girls' room. And even though his buddy acted like an imbecile he didn't do anything. But he was the one who got massacred by the local leader.

First the young woman getting point blank, now this. It was a goddamn mess.

Ignacio left the High School prisoners in their bathroom cell so they could mentally prepare for what was to come. He wanted to see their true colors.

"Get me the local engineer, the woman. Nari." He was going to go grab a shirt and bring her to the kids and the husband. Either could probably use feminine affection after all that Cabrera and his men did to them.

"You sent her away, sir."

Ignacio's stride faltered and he squinted at the man. "What? Dutchess is supposed to escort her."

The guard looked confused. "Yes, Dutchess already left, sir. She said you sent th-"

"She left??"

Cabrera swore with passion. The mother was gone. Fuck!

He grabbed the walkie talkie and switched frequencies without stopping. His companion kept his mouth shut. The man never saw Cabrera like that. Furious.

@MokaChan Togy Safton

BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow The Cat Man @SlaughterMelon ISHTAR ​

 

[Miaow]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy

Collab with Safton Togy
[TW: Medical Trauma, Gore, Language]​

Mackenzie didn't turn to look at Haewon run out of the room as he shifted through various supplies in one of the cabinets. Piling bandages, suturing equipment, disinfectant, and dry cloth into his arms, he stood and hurried across the room to Minnie.

"Alright, first things first. Font, calm the hell down. If she hasn't bled out yet then she won't anytime soon." Mackenzie shot the man a look as he began setting down the equipment next to Minnie, trying to convey that as the only adults in a room of scared and injured children, they had to be the ones keeping their shit together.

"Second," Mackenzie said, soaking cloths in disinfectant before handing one to Font, "Start cleaning the wounds on her right while I take the left. Switch off once Pandora gets here. And keep her calm, will you? This'll sting."

Xander didn’t like the idea of Haewon wandering the halls alone even for a moment under the circumstances, but he accepted it as the lesser of two evils as she departed to find Pandora. More trained hands on deck could only help in this situation, right? But wasn’t there also a saying about too many chefs in the kitchen?

He was losing it. Mackenzie’s voice snapped him back to reality, the assertive tone of a Corpsman still unmistakable all these years later. Xander gave the slightest of nods at the instruction, taking a deep breath to steady himself before accepting the antiseptic-soaked cloth he was given.

He turned toward Minnie with a sympathetic smile, squeezing her hand softly with his free hand.
“All right, lovebug. This might hurt just a bit, but I need you to hold still so Doc here can get you all fixed up, okay?” Another deep breath. Slowly, Xander brought the cloth forward, guiding it toward the deep gashes that even now oozed red. He ignored it, dabbing softly at the lacerations while doing his best not to miss any of the exposed flesh, his jaw clenched in vicarious pain for Minnie. Every part of him hated this: causing pain to the person he was supposed to protect and look after, a child who would know nothing but happiness if he and Nari had their way… but life had other plans.

“You squeeze as tight as you need to, baby girl,” he murmured, very aware of her tight grip on his hand – he’d rather feel that than a slackening hold that might indicate that she was losing consciousness.

Minnie looked up at Xander as he spoke, nodding. She was tired and cold, she just wanted to sleep. Her hand shivered within Xander's. She braced herself for the pain, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she clung to Xander's hand. As she felt the cold cloth brush against one of her wounds, she winced, her body tensing. She tried her best to stay still, her toes curled, her legs writhing. If she kept her torso and arms still, she could wriggle as much as she needed with her legs, right?

She whimpered as Xander hit a particularly sore spot, the liquid dripping into the wound and burning her flesh. She squeezed his hand tightly, squishing his fingers. Her pain tolerance had always been surprisingly high, she was stronger than she looked, but it was hard to stay still.

It was a few moments before Pandora rushed into the room in only her pyjamas and slip-on shoes.
"Haewon gave me a rundown on the way," She told Mac before he could give her a sitrep, shooting Xander a smile as she took the cloth from him.
"Stay by her head so she can see you," She instructed, giving Minnie her sweetest paediatrician smile as she took over cleaning her arm.
Haewon stood by her feet, frowning at the scene before her.
"Why haven't you given her anything for the pain?" She muttered. Out of everyone in the room, she was the only one who hadn't been present during the stock check. Even Minnie knew there was nothing left.
"We don't have anything for the pain," Mackenzie said, finishing coating the wounds with antiseptic and swabbing away the remaining blood with a dry cloth, "No Hydrocodone. No oxycodone. No fentanyl. Not even Morphine. Short of getting her shitfaced, we don't have any options."

Was it fucked up? Yes. Incredibly so. Mackenzie had needed to treat others with the same lack of materials however-himself with even less-but doing it on a kid was a first. Why the hell were so many kids getting caught in the crossfire today? He felt forty years older than he was yesterday.

Mackenzie placed a needle and thread next to Pandora before handing a small stick carved from wood to Minnie. "From what I can see, they weren't deep enough to cause nerve damage or cut tendons. That's good, we can skip straight to sealing it. Bite down on the stick, kid. This'll be the worst of it, but we'll be over soon."

"Shit--" Haewon hissed. What the hell did they mean? How could they have no pain meds? She ran a hand through her hair, stepping back from the bed to pace. They were really going to stitch her with no pain meds...

Minnie took the stick with her good hand, looking bewildered by the situation. She looked up at Xander, her eyes wide. She didn't want this. There had to be another option, right? She wanted to beg Xander to stop them. Just wrap them up and leave her to heal on her own. She shook her head in an attempt to plead with Xander.

Sutures were something Pandora was very well versed in. Almost every surgery required a suture and she'd completed many a surgery in her day... but her patients were normally unconscious. Even her patients that were awake were drugged up to the teeth with pain meds. She couldn't imagine stitching a grown man without anaesthetic, let alone a little kid.

"I'll do it as quickly as I can, okay?" She assured Minnie, resting her hand on top of hers, "Just keep looking at Xander."
Minnie hesitated before putting the stick between her teeth, bracing herself.

As Pandora pierced her skin, she cried out in pain, clenching her teeth. She shut her eyes tight, turning her head to the side and burying her face into Xander's stomach to muffle her moans of pain. She tried to stay as still as she could to stop Pandora's needle from slipping, but the feeling of her tightening each stitch, pulling her flesh together, made her want to scream. It felt like torture.

She wanted to ask Xander why. Had she done something wrong? Had she done something to deserve getting hurt? Why had that man picked she and Haewon? Had they done something to make him angry? Her cheeks were damp with tears. She wasn't allowed to cry. Would she get in more trouble for crying? Would Xander be mad? Would that man hurt her again?

"I'm sorry..." She sobbed, over and over, though her words were muffled by the stick between her teeth. Haewon stood helplessly at her feet, her hands resting on her legs as she writhed in a feeble attempt to stop her from knocking Pandora as she worked.

Pandora did her best to work as efficiently as possible, blocking out any noises Minnie made. God, she felt guilty. She tried her best to push those emotions to the back of her mind, her eyes focusing on the stitches.

Xander had felt his heart breaking as Mackenzie and Pandora made their intentions clear: stitching Minnie up without anaesthetic or pain medication. He turned toward the young girl, deliberately placing himself in front of her, steeling himself and forcing an expression that he hoped reflected resolve… resolve that he didn’t feel.

Now Minnie had her head buried in his chest as she groaned with pain while Pandora worked. Xander’s hand clutched the back of the girl’s head softly, his fingers running through her hair as he murmured soft reassurances. He could hear Minnie’s muffled sobs through the stick that was clutched in her jaw – no longer unintelligible cries of pain, these were certainly words. It took a moment for him to realize what she was saying:

Sorry

Xander’s heart shrivelled inside his chest at the realization, a pit forming in his gut. He felt warm tears running down his cheeks, dripping into Minnie’s hair. He swallowed hard, forcing his shaky voice to steady itself before murmuring, “It’s okay, baby girl. We’re almost done. Just hang in there. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

The irrational part of Xander – something deep in the back of his mind – wanted to yell at Pandora, to curse at her to hurry up and stop putting Minnie through this pain. But he knew that Minnie’s life potentially centred around getting her lacerations stitched up and distracting Pandora in any way wouldn’t help matters in the least.

Pandora took a deep breath.
"This is the last one, I promise," She spoke up, her hands remaining steady despite the anxiety she felt. She pierced her skin for the final time, tightening the last stitch and tying it off. She couldn't help but smile. They'd made it through it, Minnie was still conscious and breathing, they'd somehow gotten her through this with no medication, no blood transfusions, and no surgery."I just need to cover these and I'll leave you alone, okay?" She reassured her, though Minnie was already half asleep, pulling the stick from between her teeth. Pandora grabbed a roll of bandages and began working on her more damaged arm, relieved the hard part was over..

Bullyboy Squad ​

 

[Namazu]

In collaboration with:

SCENE ONE
The Convoy​

Weston was still staring at the wall when the walkie-talkie blinked and beeped. His first thought was that Wes was going to ask a question, which made him sigh heavily. He really was not in the mood to answer further questions about the upcoming execution or fight. He was sick of that pit. That was, at least, until he realized it was an indication another frequency was open. One of those special frequencies that not every walkie-talkie held by every average Joe in this place could access. He spun the dial to the secondary frequency and clicked it on.

The static wheezed and crackled before Ignacio's voice came through, sharper than normal:

"You have a woman I want."

Weston made a confused face at the device, as if Cabrera could even see it, then held down the button to respond.

"Cabrera, I am pretty damned sure that any woman I might have right now, you don't want - but you're more than welcome to put up with the bitch if you're really that desperate. She can be someone else's problem." Was he still irritated at Valentine? Oh yes, yes he was. Weston let up off the button, then held it down again.

"Who do you want?"

There was a sound of footsteps in the background on the other end of the transmission. Firm cadence of boots beating against the floor and echoing in the hallway. Cabrera's patience for his men was wearing thin but hearing the voice of Second in Command was surprisingly refreshing.

"You have a woman I want to be kept safe until I'm back. Dutchess will bring her in." Or already did. "Can I count on you?"

Weston flopped back into his bed, staring up at the ceiling, taking his thumb off the button so he could sigh. More prisoners? This meant he'd have to track down Dutchess and find out what's up and who she brought in. He wasn't even sure if she was back yet. Part of him wanted to tell Cabrera to fuck off, just as a reflex, but he didn't really have it in him.

"Yeah, I'll handle it. What do you want with her?"

He almost immediately regretted asking. Knowing Cabrera, he was about to get a five minute lewd description of various things he wanted to do, and Weston just really didn't have the patience. He was already getting up from the bed to go track down Dutchess.

"I want her to be in a perfect condition for when I come back." Cabrera spared the details. He also didn't mention his men started acting up recently. Nor what he planned to do about it. "Well fed, comfortable bed, not locked but on a leash." The sound of steps was cut. "Her name's Nari."

"Nari. Got it. I'll leave a mint on her pillow." Weston responded dryly, thankful he was spared details. He paused a moment, unsure what to make of all the background noise. "Is shit handled out there? King came back with the helicopter, if you can believe if. If you need backup, we can send some guys."

"It's handled. Thanks, Jones." Cabrera usually sounded smug, often playful. So the sternness had to feel new for Weston.

Taking his thumb off the button promptly, so that Cabrera couldn't hear him, Weston looked directly at the walkie talkie with an eyebrow raised.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He shook the walkie-talkie a bit, possibly imagining he was shaking Cabrera by the neck instead. That response didn't sound great but it wasn't a request for help either, so he wasn't going to push it.

"Right. Holler if shit changes." Weston responded once he was done.

There was no reply. Back at the high school, Cabrera had already lowered the volume of the device and stepped into the medical room.

Weston, meanwhile, was switching back to the normal frequency and leaving his room, locking the door behind him.

"Someone bring me Dutchess. I gotta talk to her about cargo." Weston put the call out on the general frequency, for all enforcers to hear.

NanLia Bullyboy Squad ​

 

[NanLia]

SCENE Three
The Fight​

Dutchess made it back to her room in record time, partly because people were geared up for a second fight but also because she pointedly avoided anyone that might want to stop her and chat. Those people were few and far between on regular days and today she was just thankful for her solitary lifestyle. She stepped into her room and paused, flicking the lights on and surveying the sparse furniture she ‘owned’.

Nothing appeared to be out of sorts, but she didn’t have a doubt in her mind that someone or someones had been through her room searching for anything they could take, which if Dutchess had stashed her shit right, would be nothing. In fact, she was surprised to find it in nearly the exact condition she’d left it in, save for the thin layer of dust. If she didn’t know better, she would say that no one had trespassed in her absence.

She sighed, feeling a relief she hadn’t expected and hadn’t felt after returning from the Ranch. She dropped her pack next to her dresser, heading for the bed. It wasn’t happiness, certainly not, to be back within the cement walls of the prison but certainly peace. She idly wondered if that had to do with one particular lead enforcer who had been on her mind in the days passing. She grabbed the top sheet of her bed and shook it, knocking the dust off in a small cloud when she heard a knock at her door.

“For fucks sake.” she hissed, dropping the sheet in a crumpled pile before striding to the door. She cracked it, enough to peer out, not foolish enough to open it enough for anyone to stick a hand in. “The fuck do you want?”

On the other side of the door, the same enforcer who had pestered her about Nari, now stood at her door, looking rather nervous. “Uh, Weston needs to speak to you. Told us to get you, he wants to know about the cargo you brought back.”

Dutchess felt a cold pit settle into her stomach at the mere mention of Wes looking for her. Even while the enforcer spoke she opened the door and stepped out. What fucking cargo…? She thought, there wasn’t anything of value, nothing beyond food, meds, and ammo and so she was perplexed as she started back towards the intact area, fighting the urge to chew her lip.

As she arrived she realized what he had to be talking about: Nari. That fucking woman is more trouble than she’s worth! Dutchess turned the corner to see Wes waiting, looking less than impressed and more than a little stressed. “You called, boss man?” She knew better than to arrive with fire, even if she felt it. “Was told you were too busy to do an intake interview, I set up our guest in a cell. Had them bring her comforts until you were ready.”

She glanced at the enforcer in tow, who swiftly scrambled down a hall of open cells to the last one. Fumbling with keys he swung the door open and flicked on the lights to reveal the small Asian woman, huddled in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, the tray of food untouched on the floor where the guard had left it.

I’m so fucked. Dutchess fought the urge to sigh, stepping aside the door to let Weston in. “Nari, this is Weston.” She hoped to make any kind of amends and smooth this over. “Weston this is Nari Font. She’s the wife of one of the leaders.”

Namazu ​

 

[Miaow]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy

Collab with Bullyboy Squad
[TW: Mention of assault and sexual assault]
​

The door to the school infirmary opened with a whoosh. Cabrera was still shirtless and there was blood sprinkled on his sweaty chest. His jaw set with what looked dangerously close to rage.

His hard gaze swept the room, scanning the two girls and briefly pausing on the father. Then it focused on McKenzie.

"You done? Good. You'll continue when I'm done. Leave." He looked at all of them. "Everybody except for the girls. Get out." He ignored Font's death glare and waited until the room was cleared.

Minnie was clinging to consciousness as Cabrera entered the room, one of her arms tightly bandaged and held across to her chest in an attempt to slow the bleeding. Pandora frowned as Cabrera told her to leave, setting down the bandages for Minnie's other arm.

"I'll be back in a second, okay?" She her, though she wasn't sure how long Cabrera wanted them for.

Minnie watched helplessly through teary eyes as Xander left. She didn't want him to go, she didn't want to be left with Cabrera. Neither she or Haewon were fit for any more fighting, they were completely at his mercy.

Haewon sat up, her legs hanging over the edge of the gurney as she held her chest.

"Your men almost killed my sister," She muttered, glaring at him through her one working eye.

Cabrera snatched the chair from the nearby desk and put it by the bottom of the girl's beds, in between them. Then like on second thought he stepped away to grab one of the white doctor coats that McKenzie had stocked in the room. He pulled it on to somewhat cover the bare skin and blood.

He took a seat and the hard expresion cracked a little. His gaze softer. "I need you to be honest with me. Tell me exactly what happened." He knew. He thought he knew. But he had to be sure.

Haewon watched him cover himself with the white coat, taking a seat between them. She considered what would happen if Cabrera did decide to attack. She'd thought he made his men do his dirty work but, after watching him fight off their attackers, she'd begun to doubt that. Maybe she could pull the back of that coat over his head, blind him while the two got help from Xander... no, he wouldn't do anything with Xander and Mac waiting outside. Maybe he did just want to talk. She sighed at his question, resting on her arms. She leaned back, lowering her head as if to give her neck a rest from having to hold it up.

"Minnie woke me up. The guy who called for backup, he was stood over me. He grabbed me. I don't even think he knew Minnie was in there. I think he was trying to..." She muttered. She didn't even want to say it. The idea of it made her feel sick.

"He tried to take my trousers off," She admitted, distain in her voice, "Fucking pervert..."

"He attacked us because I told Minnie to get help. Then his buddy came in-- asshole, he saw Minnie with a knife and made his assumptions. If we'd jumped him, why the fuck would we take him to our bedroom!" She complained, aggressively gesturing towards the door.

"I thought he was Xander..." Minnie murmured drowsily, quickly wiping her damp cheeks with her bandaged hand.

Ignacio listened intently, his brows drawn and his expression serious. He slowly nodded when he thought Heawon was done. Then he looked to Minnie when the younger teen mumbled something. He swallowed and looked back to the older girl.

"What's your name?"

"Haewon," She responded.

"Alright Haewon. I want you to know that you were very brave." He glanced to Minnie. "Both of you."

He seemed tense when adding with sincerity and conviction. "I'm sorry it happened. You will no longer have to worry about my men doing something like that, I assure you." He focused on Heawon. "And the man that tried to impose on you will pay the highest price."

She rolled her eyes as he called her brave. She wasn't a little kid. She didn't need him to talk down to her, pat her on the head for not crying when she skinned her knees. She especially didn't need it from the man holding them captive. She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. Brave? He didn't even know the half of it. Before she could give a piece of her mind, Minnie piped up.

She didn't bother sitting up, her head spinning as she lifted it to get a better look at Cabrera.

"Why are you doing this..?" She asked.

"Minnie--" Haewon tried to warn her, but she was focused on Cabrera.

"Why? We were happy before!" She snapped, though her voice remained timid.

Ignacio silently watched the young girl. His expression more rigid. He finally peeled his gaze away and clearing his throat he stood up.

"Rest now. You have people who care for you." He glanced at the door and mused. "They will do anything to keep you safe."

After casting one last glance at the battered children the man headed for the door.

Minnie's chest felt tight as he stared at her, wordlessly. She swallowed, trying her best to maintain eye contact, to stand her ground. She watched him finally get to his feet, relieved he had broken first.

She looked to Haewon for support, though she remained quiet. She always jumped at the opportunity to run her mouth. Maybe it was the concussion, maybe Cabrera was actually scary enough to put her off... but she stayed quiet, laying back in her gurney.

"What are you gonna do to us..?" Minnie piped up as he stood at the door.

Cabrera stopped with his hand on the handle and it took a few moments before he looked back with an apologetic, rueful smile.

"I'm going to save you."

Then he was out.

Safton
​

 

[NanLia]

SCENE THREE
The Fight
Collab with Namazu

Trigger Warning: mention of rape, assault, and death ​

Nari didn't know how long she had been first on the truck, seated across from a silent Dutchess or how long she'd been in the dark cell before the door opened, casting light into the cold cement room. She glanced upwards as a man, who didn't bother to introduce himself, dropped a blanket, a bottle of water and a tray of food on the floor before turning around to leave, shrouding her in darkness once more.

She'd remained strong in the truck, at first asking Dutchess over and over again what had happened to Minnie and Haewon. What she had overheard on the radio before they left but she'd been ignored. Eventually, she felt her stomach knot and her chest tightening, fearing the worst. She left them alone! She thought they were safe in their home! She was an idiot and now they were hurt and alone, Xander had been assaulted by the Samaritan's leader and she was too far away to do anything to help.

Nari had somehow swallowed back her tears until that door closed and then she sobbed. She wept and cursed herself as she buried herself beneath the blanket with the hope of muffling the noise she made.

Footsteps approaching silenced her, she desperately wiped away the tears from her cheeks using the sleeve of her tan mechanic jumpsuit and winced as the light filtered first in through the open door to the hall, then further when the overhead light came on.

"Nari, this is Weston. Weston, this is Nari Font, the wife of one of the leaders."

Weston stepped into the room, doing his best to hide the look of surprise on his face when Dutchess introduced her as the wife of the leader. No wonder Cabrera wanted her for something - this was a high-value asset since, sadly, people were now regarded as just that. Assets.

"Thanks, Dutchess. You can go." He nodded his head towards the door. "Close it on your way out." He waited until Dutchess was gone before he said or did anything else.

Once the door was shut, he approached closer to Nari, staring down at her - then crouched down on the balls of his feet, tilting the tray of food.

"Yeah, I don't blame you for not eating that. Its pretty tasteless. Nothing bad but - ain't great." He stood back up, taking a step away so he wasn't in Nari's space, and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out one of those plastic-wrapped packets of peanut butter between crackers meant for kid's lunches and snacks. Leaning down, he placed it on the floor and scooted it towards Nari. The plastic was still sealed.

"Possibly a little stale, but the peanut butter is good."

He paced to the other side of the room and leaned against the wall, next to the door, and casually looped his thumbs over his leather belt.

"The name's Weston Jones. Second in command here. I take it you've already met Cabrera? Hispanic guy, talks a lot. Loudmouth. You probably already want to punch him for one reason or another, yeah? He called ahead and wanted to make sure we keep you safe. So that's exactly what we're going to do. I just want to ask a few questions first. Think you can handle that? Afterwards, we move you into a nice room."

Nari watched Weston warily as he stepped into the room and dismissed Dutchess, her eyes flicked to the biker woman who, without a word, strode from the room and closed the door behind her. How on earth had so fallen so far as to hope Dutchess would help her now? Of course, the last time she had spent time alone in a room with a Samaritan man, he’d threatened to impregnate her.

The thought alone made her gag again, and she stared at the likely expired bag of peanut butter crackers that Weston had left on the floor, like some kind of peace offering. She wanted to curl up into the corner and weep, to make herself smaller and maybe go unnoticed.

Expressionlessly, Nari looked up as Weston introduced himself, asking her about Cabrera and making light of how she might feel about him. Either this man was dumb and had no clue about his colleague's exploits at her home, or, he was in league with him and blatantly didn’t care. “What do you want to know?” She croaked hoarsely, unconvinced that there would be anything nice about where she was about to stay.

Weston tilted his head a bit, looking Nari over from a distance for any sign she'd been hurt.

"Do you have any idea what he'd want with you?"

Nari shifted uncomfortably under Weston’s gaze, tugging the thin blanket up further over her shoulders and around her neck. “Besides wanting to punish me? To make Xander angry.” She paused, considering. She didn’t know how much he knew about her but she knew Dutchess had already revealed much to Cabrera. “I’m an engineer, I have my masters in Mechanical Engineering. I imagine he thought I would be useful to him and his people.”

Weston considered this a moment, nodding. He wasn't about to let on what he did or didn't know, but it made sense - piss off the leader. He was far more interested in the fact she was a mechanical engineer, though - now that was valuable.

"What kind of mechanical... stuff... are you familiar with? Engines? Machinery?"

Nari nodded. “Yes, I minored in electrical engineering.” She frowned, wondering how much was too much information to share. “I was here on a VISA, working with a tech-company to make their next EV when it went under. Took a job at the school as a mechanics lab teacher.”

Weston couldn't claim to know what the hell an EV was, but it sounded complicated. Maybe as complicated as, say.... something that flies?

"You know anything about helicopters?"

Nari blinked at the question, seeming entirely out of place. Wouldn’t they be more concerned with well pumps and generators? “I’d have to see it, I’ve never worked on one before.” It had to have the same basic mechanisms as other vehicles, right?

Weston nodded. That was an entirely fair, not-bullshit response, which was all he wanted. He didn't know if that was the goal, though, so he didn't say anything further.

"Makes sense. I'm sure we have plenty of things around here that need fixing.... and I know this is technically plumbing, but the showers can get fucked up sometimes. Maybe you can help with that too?" Truth be told, he was getting real tired of Cabrera inviting himself in to use what was supposed to be Weston's private shower.

"Have things at your school been peaceful since we got there?" A difficult, loaded question to ask, but he needed to, so the best way to do it was to just abruptly change topics.

Nari’s eyes flashed as momentary rage filled her gut. She wanted to scream at the man and his question about how their hostile takeover had gone. She swallowed back the few curse words she would use and spoke evenly instead. “Your men killed a little girl, running to meet her lost family. Cabrera threatened to impregnate me and raped Xander. And my girls were being attacked as Dutchess had your hired henchmen drag me out of my home.” In a rather uncharacteristic growl, she continued. “I wouldn’t call that peaceful.”

That was... not at all what Weston expected to hear. He expected punches thrown and possibly some shots fired. At adults. Not kids. Nor did he expect rape. He blinked at her a moment, disgust on his face.

"I'm sorry. I know that means fuckall nothing from me, but that wasn't the plan."

He stood up straight, hand reaching for the door. He paused a moment there, glancing back at Nari.

"If he touches you, let me know. In the meantime - I'm going to find someplace better for you to stay. A real bed, too." No mention a real bed generally meant a cot around here, but it was better than the floor. He stayed there a moment in case Nari had any questions or anything else to say about the ordeal.

Nari said nothing, only tucked herself deeper into the blanket as she watched Weston leave.

 

[Namazu]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

Every single light in the fight pit was turned on. No strategic dimming of the lights around the periphery above the seating for the crowd this time around. No spotlights on the center of the ring either. This time, the harsh light of the large room was going to make everything perfectly visible to everyone. The crowd couldn’t hide in the dim light anymore, either.

A crude gallows made of metal stood in the center of the fighting pit. As the crowd filed into the room, an enforcer was busy tying the last knots in the long rope and securing it to the beam across the top of the makeshift structure. He gave the noose a test-tug, making sure it would slide smoothly with the weight of a body. Two other enforcers, armed, stood nearby to observe. Once the rope was prepared and checked, that same enforcer tested out the lever. Pushing it in and pulling it back, it triggered the two doors beneath the rope to swing open suddenly. They dangled for a moment, before the enforcer pushed the lever forward, closing the doors again.

Weston stood nearby in the pit, hands on his hips, watching this preparation in silence. Pushing up the long sleeve on his shirt, he checked his watch. It was time. If anyone in the prison wasn’t already present, it meant they weren’t coming at all.

There was no announcement this time. No speech, no grandstanding. Nothing. What little quiet murmuring there was from the stands quieted down as Weston lifted the walkie talkie to his lips and turned it on.

“Ready.”

After a minute or so, an enforcer escorted Kenny out of where he had been held. Kenny’s face was covered in tears and snot from sobbing, and the enforcer had to nearly carry him to the gallows to get him to move. The kid stumbled his way forward, stopping here and there to ineffectively plead.

“I’m sorry - I’m sorry - I don’t know - I’ll do whatever you want, please, I just - don’t - I’m - I can’t’-” Kenny’s pleading and sobbing blended together, making half of what he was trying to say unintelligible. His hands were bound together with rope tied at the wrists, and ropes around his ankles kept him from making too big of a step, ensuring he couldn’t run away. Not that there was anywhere to run to.

The enforcer escorting Kenny kept pulling him along, until he finally had to just pick the kid up and sling him over his shoulder like a sack. Carrying him up the few steps onto the platform of the gallows, the enforcer finally deposited Kenny in the middle of the secured door. The two flanking enforcers joined him on the gallows, keeping Kenny from wriggling free as the main enforcer slipped the noose around Kenny’s neck.

Weston himself approached the lever, waiting for the enforcers gathered to move safely away. Wrapping his hand around the lever, he paused a moment, staring at Kenny as the young man squeezed his eyes shut, hyperventilating behind the tears.

There really wasn’t anything he could say. No way to make this better. No way to stop it. So, Weston pushed in the lever, pulled it back, and kept his eyes on Kenny as the doors swung open beneath Kenny’s feet. The young man’s negligible weight was not enough to break his neck immediately. Instead, he dangled at the end of the noose, struggling. The sounds of his struggle were the only noise in the entire room.

Rather than let the young man suffer a slow, agonizing death, Weston slid the gun that King gave him out of its holster, aimed for Kenny’s head, and squeezed the trigger.

After the echo of the gunshot faded, the silence of the crowd was deafening.

“Clean it up, and move this out of the way. We got a fight tonight.” Weston ordered as he stepped down off the gallows, boots echoing heavily off the metal steps. The enforcers scrambled to haul Kenny’s body off, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. For this fight, they left the gallows contraption standing in the middle of the fight, bloody rope and all.

Weston exited the fighting cage and climbed up into his typical reserved seat, a grim look on his face as he waited for round two: Connor, versus… whatever unfortunate sucker they threw him in with. The seat next to him was empty, and would remain empty. Weston had left word for Temma that Valentine's time and services were no longer needed by him.

Bullyboy Squad Safton BeyondDandy NanLia Aegis The Cat Man ​

 

[Aegis]

vs.



SCENE THREE
The Fight

TW: Gore, Strong Language​

With Wes's ominous warning delivered as though wax-stamped with the crest of death itself out of the way, Connor was whisked off toward the place he assumed the fight would take place. The cold concrete of the halls of the prison seemed to suck the warmth from his body as they walked. They were hard, unbreakable and as long as you were within them it seemed certain that you would never escape nor would ever defy the people running this place for it was on their word that you walked unfettered. Paint-chipped bars greeted each new turn The Soldier was lead down, and with each greeting came an increase in people who sat and stared from the shadows. Their faces were shaded in the dark, unlit corners of the room heading toward what he could only assume was the pit. They slinked their way up toward their seats after sizing him up like a fighting dog to see his chances, and left him alone but with his armed guards at the door.

It was bright. Hum of voltage pops in the lights took a dominating hold over the blinding environment as he stared from the dark into a narrow slit of what seemed to be pure energy. Connor winced and tried to raise his hands to block out the beams, but a quick jump from one of the guards who nearly hit him was enough to dissuade The Soldier from any further attempt at comforting himself. Then, out of nowhere one of the guards behind him gave him a stiff shove with the barrel of his shotgun and sent Connor stumbling into the arena before he righted himself. If this was Rome, he may have been greeted by the thunderous cheers of an adoring crowd that rained flower petals and encouragement upon him like a mid-Summer's rain, yet this experience was anything but that; it was as though he found himself at a funeral reception.

Connor's eyes struggled to adjust, but as they did he saw dozens of people gathered in audience of what was about to take place. Terror-stricken faces watched with absolute obedience into the center of the pit as Connor entered. It was impossible to read their thoughts beneath the masks they had constructed in living day-to-day life here. This-- this is what worried Connor about ever interacting with other survivors. He had been right to avoid them, and now he was paying the price for ever trusting other people in a world gone so fucking mad. The crushing despair he saw in the faces of others was enough to put a slight chink in his previously unbreakable will. If Connor had been utterly alone in this place, perhaps he could have held on forever, yet seeing the the iron grasp the dictators of the prison had over their populace was enough to make him wonder how long he could resist the colossal weight of oppression he could feel exuding from the very grounds themselves.

The soldier took to scanning the rest of his fighting area. It wasn't anything too special, and perhaps that's how the people here liked it, bareknuckle and brutal. However, his eyes settled on a makeshift gallows and a trail of blood scarping off into some other hallway. A pit formed in Connor's heart as he finally understood why the whole event reeked of crushed wills: this room was a pillory and it was simply a matter of who was locked up and who was swinging the axe.

A pop of metal lock hitting the ground was enough to draw Connor's attention directly across the room to a cage door that flew open and the man who emerged. He was a trey-aged man covered in freshly-tended wounds and bravado. The man walked into The Pit and threw his arms up in a flourish of his wrists that was supposed to send the crowd cheering for him, but silence did naught but suffocate the room. The man's face flared in rage as he teeth grinded into a violent screech that scream from his throat, "I SAID TO FUCKING CHEER!"

Connor wasn't sure who this guy was, but he must've been well-known around here as his demand sent a flicker of panic through the faces of the crowd before a whoop sounded from the one of the rear stands. Then, the crowd erupted into a supportive roar that contrasted the twisted fear that stitched itself onto their faces.

"NORTH! NORTH! NORTH! NORTH! NORTH!"

The crowd chanted in a terrified support of Connor's challenger as the Soldier sat drowned in an ocean of opposition. North carried on into the center of the room to face his opponent with a slow saunter and outstretched arms as he pumped his thumbs toward his chest and crouched with his hand cupped around his ear that sent the crowd screaming louder because their lives depended on it. Truly, it was a wrestling intro fit for Smackdown vs. RAW. The braggadocious man settled his gaze on Connor who was more confused than intimidated by his grand-standing, "So, who the fuck are you?"

Connor opened his mouth to respond. However, the words that Wes said came back to him. If he wanted to see Tanner again, he needed to win this fight, and that meant playing things his way.

The Soldier lurched back and exploded outward in a violent right hook that sent bone crashing against jaw and spit flying from the off-guard North's mouth. Without hesitation, North pivoted back forward and sent a haymaker into Connor's nose that sent blood pouring down his lips in a gush of crimson. It erupted to a brawl of back and forth strikes as Connor launched his splitting knuckles into North's kidney and sent the man doubling over while The Soldier wrench his foot up and sent a straight-kick toward North. However, the Wrestler slapped it aside with his palm and dove straight into Connor's knees sending the two men spiraling to the ground in a bundle of rolls, screams, and blood. The Wrestler clawed at the Soldier's cheek with jagged fingernails as Connor rolled on top of his opponent and sent a balled fist smashing into North's ear with enough force to send his eyes rolling. North was already concussed, but Connor didn't know that.

Dragging themselves to their feet, North and Connor circled each other waiting for an opening. The world had become a dull, numb throb in the Soldier's mind as everything outside of the five-foot space around North vanished into a blur. His eyes lasered his opponent with vicious intent as North's face shifted between pleasure and serious wariness at the animal hate poisoning Connor's eyes.

"Oh yeah! This is good! You're good. I'm gonna love popping those eyes of yours."

"..."

Stoic as usual, Connor let out a deep huff of breath that sounded like steam being released from on overheating engine. His heart raced with a viscous violence implanted deep within him by the situation the duo found themselves in. Again, North and Connor charged each other with the force of two bears smashing and slamming as the two of them smashed into the side of the gallows and made grabs for each other's throats. Each man's skin was slick with dripping blood and sweat that made getting the necessary grip a matter of Connor digging his fingernails into his opponents throat leaving trenches of upturned skin and oozing blood. The two men seized each other's necks like sharks violent ripping the meat from their prey in shakes of exertion, but as each face lit up red and blue North twisted Connor around and threw him against the wooden frame of the gallows. On the backfoot, The Soldier's vision began to blur and fade as North wrenched his throat with such a force that it sent him bending backward over the stairs leading up to the execution platform.

It seemed everything was decided. Until, Connor's eyes went alight with realization at the sight of North struggling to even keep his eyes open. This guy was already fucked up from something else entirely. With the last ounces of his energy, The Soldier stopped the fight for North's throat and delivered two open palm strikes to either side of the Wrestler's ears. The force of the blow sent the man limp for just a moment as Connor snagged his collar, sunk to a knee, and ripped downward sending North's face smashing through one of the planks on the stairs. In the following moment, he launched upward with a shoulder into North's sternum that sent all the leftover air venting out of his mouth with a croak; the upward movement of his body causing wood splinters to catch in his chin as he smashed against the edges of the hole his face had created.

The duo crashed to the floor just next to one another with each combatant choking for air while they glared at each other with all the grim intent of a cornered wolf.

Bullyboy Squad Safton BeyondDandy NanLia The Cat Man Namazu ​

 

[Namazu]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

Perched from his privileged seat, elbow resting on the arm of his chair and chin resting in his hand, index finger occasionally tapping on his cheek, Weston watched the brutal brawl passively. He looked like he was deep in thought, but about what, it was unclear. Maybe he was just that invested in watching the outcome of the fight, or maybe his mind was elsewhere.

The stiflingly quiet crowd cheered as North egged them on - always a crowd favorite, that one. He wondered if North really did love the attention and the adrenaline of the fight that much, or if he was just secretly begging for death. Weston knew plenty of guys like North from before. Judging by past experience, it was a mix of both.

The fight had the men paying their blood dues, red adding to the stains Kenny left behind. He wondered if the new guy, Connor, heard the gunshot from where he was being held - if it occurred to him what was happening. Curious, he gave a quick glance around the room, looking for that kid that came with the man, wondering if he was present for the barbarism.

Before he had a chance to get a visual on Tanner, he heard the crack and crash as the soldier sent North’s face straight through the planks of the gallows’ steps. With the brutality the two were going at each other, it was only a matter of time before one of them died. It wasn’t necessary to have a fight to the death tonight, so he made the decision then and there to call it.

Pushing himself up from his seat, Weston whistled out to get the attention of the enforcers, gathered outside of the pit to observe. Raising his voice, he announced the winner.

“It’s over. Connor wins.” The decision was met with a mix of cheers, and a few boos from people who probably just lost money on a bet on North. Weston crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the enforcers to enter the pit.

Aegis Bullyboy Squad Safton BeyondDandy NanLia The Cat Man ​

 

[NanLia]

Flashback
Several Months Ago ...​

Nari stood in her barren living room, watching the chaos unfold around the world, the dead returning to life and hunting down the living. She hadn't been able to even turn on her television after the first outbreaks started, the sounds of the dead too much for her to listen to, sending her into panic attacks and fits of dry heaving. She had spent days desperately trying to call her father back in Japan with no luck, the lines were always busy and then they were down entirely.

She worked her way up to watching the news with the television turned towards the wall but the volume on. It was the only way she was able to learn of what was going on and not immediately feel overwhelmed, even then, when the newscasters played audio clips of the growling moans of the dead she had the remote in hand to mute until she felt safe enough to unmute and listen on.

After a few days the phone lines went down, then shortly after that the internet and cable, then the lights. The world outside started to quiet down: fewer screams, fewer gunshots. It didn’t make the outside any safer, however. She learned this the hard way only days after her building fell silent and she tempted fate by leaving her apartment.

* * *​

Nari slipped out into the hallway, stunned at the trash and abandoned items, and the other apartment doors left open. The building was on the better side of town, and even had a doorman! She’d never seen it in such disarray, even when someone was moving in or out. She carefully trod down the hall, pausing at the first set of open doors and peaking within. Much like the hallway, the apartment was not filled with litter but this time the Iyashi family's belongings were strewn around. It had not been lost on Nari that she and the other residents of her floor were all of Asian descent or had immigrated from an Asian country, save for poor Mrs. Johnston, whose family was from Honduras.

She heard shuffling in the darkness of the family home and she called out through the open doorway and was greeted with a rasping moan. Mr. Iyashi senior shambled forward, tripping over the strewn objects, arms outstretched towards her. Nari had reached to help the senior citizen as he was clearly struggling when her eyes finally fixated on what was wrong with him. As he moved further from the darkness into the light she could see his left hand missing fingers, his right foot twisted at an impossible angle. His bloodied lips parted over gray teeth and that rasping moan escaped his throat.

She pulled back before their hands met, Mr. Iyashi lunged forward and tripped, tumbling noisily into the hallway. His clothing was shredded, and despite a serious fall, Mr. Iyashi continued to reach for her as she steadily backpedaled down the hall toward her apartment. From other apartments more moans and shuffling grew louder, some occupants banging on the doors. Nari retreated back to her apartment and to the relative safety it brought.

* * *​

It tooks days for Mr. Iyashi to leave her front door, eventually shuffling away. She'd spent the time silently praying that he would leave, that she could remain safe. That safety only lasted so long, while the doors and walls would keep the dead out, food was scarce and the water turned off shortly after that. She knew she couldn't stay in the safety and comfort of her home; she needed to leave to find sustenance. Gathering what little courage she had, Nari cracked open her apartment door and peeked down the dark hallway. No sign of Mr. Iyashi or anyone else. She made it as far as the stairwell when she heard him, growling and shuffling out of an apartment nearby. She slammed the door to the stairwell behind her, knowing that she would not be able to return home again, she would need to find somewhere else to hide.

The only place she could think of was the high school, it had been closed when the state of emergency declared the residents shelter in place. It had to be empty and she knew there would be food and hopefully water. The school's water was independent of the city, having a well system.

After hours of travel by foot, Nari made her way to the school. The distance wasn't so far, not more than a long walk on a good day; she would know since she had done it often. But every time she heard a noise or saw movement she hid until she felt safe again to keep moving. This made for very slow progress towards the school. She eventually reached the gates of the school and found them chained. Luckily the chains left the gates loose enough that she could squeeze her slim frame between them, leaving the death groaning behind her.

As she approached the building she didn't see any lights on, or any movement in the front offices of the school and she could only hope it was empty and abandoned and no dead were already inside. At the main entrance, she punched in her code and pulled at the door only to find it was bolted on the inside. Someone was inside or had been, and she swiftly weighed her options: she could knock and hope whoever was in there was still alive and willing to let her stay, or, she could try and find another place to shelter.

Nari stood with her back against the door as she chewed her lower lip and considered her options. She could certainly find a way to engineer her way into the school, but with what and how much time did she have before she attracted unwanted attention? Alternatively, she could smash a window and gain access that way, but, again, unwanted attention, and then she'd have to fix the window.

Before any decisions could be made she heard the bolt slide free from the door behind her. She spun around in time to see the door open and the barrel of a gun slip out, pointed at her…

Collab with Safton ​

 

[Namazu]

TRIGGER WARNING: Difficult, emotional instances of bigotry and threats of violence.
Flashback​

Dave sat up in bed, smoking a joint as he watched television in the motel room. Reception was a little spotty on the cable channels, but the local ones came in fine. A replay of last weekend’s football game was on. He hadn’t put his prosthetic on yet - he’d get around to it when it was time to leave. For now, he was enjoying the sense of relief - from being here with Weston, and the less-than-legitimate “medical” marijuana. He had a medical card, of course - one valid in Mexico.

Knobs squeaked in the small bathroom as Weston shut the shower off, stepping out and toweling off quickly. Stepping in front of the fogged-up mirror, he cleared a circle in the middle with his hand.

“Who’s winning?” Weston called, grabbing some small scissors from his travel bag. He didn’t pay enough attention to sports to remember who won - Dave was the real fan. He leaned in closer to the mirror, lightly tugging at a stray hair in his beard that needed a quick trim to stay in line.

“Fuckin’ Bucks are up. Only consolation I have is they eventually lost in the last quarter.” Dave called back, smoke curling around his head and rising to the ceiling. Smoking technically wasn’t allowed inside, but nobody ever enforced those rules. Especially when the smoke detector was empty, the battery long gone. Dave’s response made Weston laugh, shaking his head as he put away his scissors and wandered out of the room.

“Gimmie that.” He motioned for the joint, which Dave offered up. Weston took a quick drag, then handed it back - pressing a kiss to Dave’s temple in the process as a thank-you. He circled around that bed to the second one in the room - neatly made, unused save as a surface for their meager luggage.

Weston was partway through getting dressed when there was a knock on the door. He looked over his shoulder at Dave, who was already putting the joint out in his old ceramic ash-tray and hiding it in a drawer. The pair exchanged glances, concern and fear in both faces. Zipping up his jeans and fastening his belt in a hurry, Weston answered the door, still shirtless.

“Jones.” Big Jim stood in front of the door, blocking its width. His bike was parked not far behind him, in the parking lot. Weston blinked at him, surprised, at both the serious look on his face and the fact he’d been found. His stomach sank as that realization hit him. The club had found them.

“Jim - what-” Weston started, but Jim held up a hand to shut him up. His attention moved past Weston to Dave, who was sitting up in bed now, hurriedly putting on his prosthetic leg. Jim stared at him a moment, leaning to the side to peek into the room. Only one bed looked slept in. He cleared his throat, looking to Weston again.

“It ain’t none of my business. We all got our faults and vices. I ain’t gonna tell Cliff about that.” Jim frowned at Weston, looking him up and down as he took a half step back - like he didn’t want to catch something from Weston.

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?” Weston scowled, keeping his voice low and even.

“You went off-radar and left your cell phone at home. Cliff wanted to know where the fuck you went. We got a job to do. Pearl said she saw you and Dave take off in his truck and head north. Ricky and me left early trying to find your ass.” Jim paused, taking off his baseball cap to run a hand over his buzz-cut head.

“Listen. Just don’t bother showing up for this job, yeah? And-” He glanced over Weston’s shoulder again, even as Weston tried to position himself to block as much of the door as possible.

“Quit whatever weird fuckin’ deviant pansy-ass shit you got goin’ on here. You know Cliff ain’t gonna tolerate that. You better be glad I found you, and not Ricky. He brought his shotgun.” Jim didn’t explain what, exactly, that meant - but Weston knew a threat when he received one. Big Jim stepped away from the door and headed back to his bike, leaving Weston to slam the door behind him.

Leaning his back against the door, Weston pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and took a breath to steady himself. Dave was already up, shoving their things back into their bags so they could get out quickly.

“I’m so fucking done with this.” Weston muttered as he exhaled, pushing himself off the door and heading for the bathroom to grab the rest of his belongings. “We’re getting out. That’s it. Last straw, okay? We get back, pack our shit, and go. I don’t care if we have to live out of your truck. I can hitch my trailer to it for extra space.”

“Weston-” Dave started, caution in his voice. “You can’t just walk away from the club like that, and you know it. You still owe them money. They’ll find you.”

“Then we’ll drive to fucking Canada if we have to.” Weston emerged from the bathroom, travel case in hand, just in time to look up and see red and blue police lights outside through the thin curtains.

​

 

[NanLia]

Flashback
Twenty years ago...​

Diamond Rose sat with her back pressed to the footing of a large brownstone building. It was an office of some sort. It had a swanky lobby and was one of several surrounding the intersection, that was the point, the high-end lobby. High-end lobbies meant that businesses inside hired people that looked high-end. Ideal for targets for sunny Fridays in the early summer. Lunch hour was coming to a close and those fancy-dressed people would be coming back to their fancy offices with their fancy lobbies. Diamond Rose had a need for their fancy watches and thick wallets.


She stood, torn knee jeans letting the sunlight warm her skin, she shrugged out of her oversized black leather jacket and slung it over her shoulder, heading to the intersection to wait for the crosswalk. In all, in fifteen minutes she walked away with three men's watches, two silver-looking bracelets, and a dozen wallets, safely tucked into the hole in the pocket of her jacket. Easy days work, and she knew just the club who would want some of the finer things she'd picked up.

* * *​

Diamond Rose waited patiently outside the clubhouse, arms crossed over her chest, her jacket wrapped around her thin form as the cool night air started to turn to freezing. She had to wait and didn't have a choice, cops had her face posted at local pawn shops and none of the owners were willing to lose more merchandise because it was hot. She'd spend more hours here waiting if she needed to, this club was her meal ticket, at least until she could get herself something stable.


Finally, the RC's Old Lady of the club opened the side door and walked away. She wouldn't get another opportunity. She took the steps two at a time, walking into the clubhouse she knew exactly where she needed to go, headed for the Road Captain. A low whistle caught her attention and the RC pointed to a man she hadn't met before. He was older than the Captain, how old? She was terrible at guessing and it didn't matter much, everyone was old compared to her.


She approached the new man, he was handsome, with dark hair, combed back, and a salt and pepper beard. He smiled and the creases in the corners of his eyes wrinkled and for a reason Diamond Rose couldn't explain, she wanted to see him smile again.


"Good evening, Princess." He drawled as he dabbed out his cigarette in an ashtray on the table in front of him. "Sheila here says you nabbed a few things you want to get rid of?"


She nodded and emptied her pockets, finding her mouth dry. She watched him as he looked over the jewelry and credit cards - the cash she'd already spent on food. And when he looked up and smiled at her again she felt her stomach flutter.


"Looks good, Princess. You did good work here, anyone notice these missing?"


She shook her head in the negative, still finding her voice gone. He smiled further and she felt her cheeks heat.


"Good, that's real good." He handed the items over to the RC's old lady, Sheila, she guessed, "Well, Princess. I think we might have more work for you if you're interested."

* * *​

Diamond Rose didn't need to find a shelter or safe alley to sleep in that night, she was invited to stay at the clubhouse, given a blanket, and directed to sleep on the couch, the next morning she was fed more food than she'd ever seen in one place before, except for maybe in the movies.


The man was back and now she'd learned he was the Treasurer, in from out of town to check on things for this part of the club. He dropped into the chair next to hers, his thigh brushing hers. "Good morning, Princess. How did you sleep?"


"Good, thank you." She whispered and jumped when he laughed loudly. At first, startled by the volume but then she felt her cheeks burn.


"She speaks!" He called out to others in the club, who laughed along with him. "So, what's your name, then?" He asked as he piled more fresh fruit and cream onto her plate.


"Diamond Rose." She immediately picked up her spoon to scoop up the offered sweet food.


Once more the handsome man whistled. "Mother named you to be a stripper, Princess." His gray eyes traveled down her body and back up again, that smile returning to his lips. "Put a few pounds on you and I think you'd make a killing on stage." he sighed, reaching out to tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "Good thing I don't like to share my women."

* * *​

Diamond Rose swiftly found herself a place within the club, she was sent to pick things they needed, from people who would recognize anyone from the club coming. She would infiltrate, distract and steal. She stayed with Earl, she later found his name and on her eighteenth birthday they were married at the clubhouse, documents were witnessed and signed and she turned them into the courthouse herself. She didn't think she could ever be happier.


The day the certificate arrived in the mail Earl framed it and hung it at the clubhouse. "Guess this means you can't be Princess any longer." He turned to regard her. "I suppose this makes you a Dutchess, now."

 

[Aegis]

One Week after Initial Infection (Approximately seventeen months ago)...​

The call had come from out of nowhere. Connor's national guard unit was on alert for some QRF mission for the last week, but they didn't know why it was necessary. After all, it was the states and aside from a few riots and disasters-- neither of which were on the news, they had never really been on any missions. It was always just training. Always training. That's what they though until they found themselves sitting in the briefing room with their Captain going over an obviously hastily thrown together PowerPoint presentation.

"That's why we're implementing 'Operation: Archangel'. Infected numbers have reached an almost critical level, and if we don't act now then we're going to lose the whole East Coast in the next month."

The chilling proclamation sent chills down the spine of all two-hundred men in Connor's unit. A sense of unease swelled among the men as anxiety took hold of each of them, but the Captain continued to speak before any alarming questions could be asked.

"'Operation: Archangel' is a plan in three parts: find the VIPs, extract the VIPs to camps set up in the classified locations you will be briefed on, and protect said VIPs until such a time as they are to resume their duties in society. A list of different names and locations will be given to each platoon based on their AO. The VIPs include lawmakers, civil engineers, physicians, and other professions deemed necessary to operate these camps. Remember, these camps are just a failsafe in case we are unable to contain the infection."

Their Captain shuffled a few steps expecting some sense of reassurance from among his men, but Connor and the others could only give him a blank, uneasy stare. Someone in the back cleared their throat and The Captain took it was a queue to continue, "Details on order of march will be given later, but the most important thing to note is the RoE..."

The Captain paused for a pregnant second before he clicked to the next slide that drew an palpable intensity out in every onlooker in the room, "If any erratic behavior is seen in someone who is observed, you are free to use lethal force. That is all for this portion-- any questions?"

Silence. A silence so loud it was deafening.

Connor spoke up, "Sir... define 'erratic behavior'."

"Exactly what it sounds like."

Connor only realized afterward that they were being intentionally vague about wording to save their own ass, but really they meant that they didn't know. Nobody knew what it was going to be like once they went into the city.

* * *​

The six Humvees and three LMTVs from Connor's platoon, Charlie-- although everyone called them Crossroad Blues, coasted down the highway on the uncrowded route into Indianapolis. Trees lined either side of the road and blocked all impression of civilization with the exception of the occasional McDonald's billboard. It was great for their mission, but the endless sea of SUVs, Sedans, and trucks lined bumper to fender as far as the eye could see heading out of the city was enough to make every man question what they were driving into. Connor sat in the gunner's seat of his Humvee swiveling the 240 back and forth in an attempt to look like he was pulling security on the sides, but secretly he was just a little nervous and was using it as a bit of a tick. The shaking bump every time they rode over a pothole sent his back slapping against the armored screen around him and his knees bending. However, the worst part was knowing that in just a few minutes he would have to to use it. The belt of 7.62 dangled haphazardly into an ammo can attached to the side, and he feared the intent that they showed by having the ammo already loaded.

Crossroad Blues flew down the road until finally they began to take a corner that revealed the city; it was then that the true test would begin. The skyline of Indianapolis bled grey and orange as buildings burned and smoke splashed its grim grey across the clouds, but the true kicker was how quiet it was. If it wasn't for the engines of all the cars and the occasional horn, Connor could've sworn they would've been able to hear the flicker of the flames from where they were.

Morales smacked at Connor's leg from the Driver's seat, "Hey, check our left. Get a load of that shit, homie."

Connor cranked the lever off to his side and spun the turret so he could see what Morales was getting on about, some Redneck standing in the back of his Ford flying a big ass American flag as the convoy passed. A few of the other people near him seemed to notice what he was doing and stepped out of their vehicles to whoop and cheer as the soldiers passed them. The excitement spread like wildfire, and soon a large portion of the parked vehicles were honking their horns, rolling down their windows, and screaming at them as they drove past, "GO GET EM'!"

"PLEASE! IF YOU FIND MY WIFE--"

"SAVE US!"

Connor gave a curt wave to a few of them as they rolled past. This whole situation made him feel horribly guilty-- because if they didn't have at least eight years in college or happen to have married a politician then they weren't the ones being saved. The best he could do was smile, and be happy he wore the shaded inserts in his goggles today so they couldn't see the fear in his gaze.

If only they knew... if only they knew.

​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

SCENE 3
The Fight​

The thunder of his voice boomed through the arena. "Don't let him dictate the pace!" Rough and gravelly, like the sound of a rock scraping against stone. It commanded attention.

He watched how they rolled to Anthony's favorite position. "Good! Keep him on the ground!" Each following word like a spear to the point as he saw North snatch man's throat and tightened the hold. Jagged piece of scolding advice chosen with precision and topped with a praise. "You're wearing him down!"

Derek was far from his prime in the ring, but fighting was a craft and he was proud to be the teacher. So his heart sank when he saw tables turning with the brutal performance from the newcomer. His champion's face repeatedly thrust into wooden edge.

"North!"

He stepped forth and his fists clenched over the metal bars. So tight that the veins stood out on the back of his hands. His knuckles, gnarled and scarred by many brawls and matches went white with the strain. His shoulders tense. Thick traps stuck out of a wife beater bulged with muscles stretching under skin like steel cords under tension. His jaw worked hard as he mindlessly gritted his teeth.

Derek's whole body responded almost like he was the one in the cage. Reliving the past. So tuned with the fighters' moves, breaths and their language of violence that he failed to hear Weston's justified verdict.

"Come on, you son of a bitch!"

BeyondDandy Namazu Togy The Cat Man
NanLia Aegis Safton Crono ​

 

[Miaow]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy

[TW: Mention of child abuse and neglect]
A flashback
​

The walls of the tiny apartment trembled as screams echoed down the corridors, bouncing from door to door and waking the other residents. Newborns were known for crying. In fact, that was the only reason nobody had any complaints. If they were able to hear the cries, imagine how Himari would be feeling. What a poor woman... A single mother with an infant and a 5-year-old. From the perspective of their neighbours, it was strange, really. She and Dae-Hyun had been what looked like a perfect family. They were perfect for each other. They were always affectionate in public. Their apartment had always been perfectly quiet, no late-night arguments, no loud parties, no crying children. They seemed like a model family.

Haewon sat silently on the sofa, facing her mother. Her legs hung, her feet unable to reach the floor. She covered her ears, glaring at the floor. She hadn't asked for this. She didn't want a stupid little sister. A stupid little sister that wouldn't stop screaming. Why had her mother done this to them? They were happy without her ruining it.

Her mother lay across from her, her mouth hung open, saliva leaking from the corner of her lips. The air was heavy with the scent of alcohol. The stench made Haewon's nostrils sting and her throat burn. She glared at her. She'd never done this before. Not before Daddy had left.

Her mother groaned, burying her face in her hands.
"Go shut her up, would you?" She slurred.
Haewon frowned, her hands cupped tightly over her ears.
"How?"
"I don't care how you do it-- Just get on with it."
"Mommy, I think she's hungry--"
Her mother lurched forward into a seated position, glaring daggers through her daughter.
"That's not my fault! If she's hungry, she can take it up with her daddy. He's the one who took all her fucking food." She snapped, collapsing back onto the sofa and turning her back on Haewon.
There was a moment of silence between them, punctuated by the screams of a hungry newborn.
"What am I meant to--"
"I DON'T CARE, HAEWON." Her mother yelled, turning over and flinging an empty bottle across the room. Haewon covered her head with her hands, shielding her brain from the oncoming projectile. It missed.
"YOU SHUT HER UP OR I WILL!"
Haewon scrambled to her feet, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Oh don't you start, too!" Her mother yelled after her as she shut the door to the bedroom.

Haewon snivelled, clumsily wiping her wet cheeks with the palms of her hands. Her ears were ringing as she was deafened by her baby sister, wailing and wailing, pleading for something. She stood on the tips of her toes, peering into the cot at the thing that had ruined her family. She swallowed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
"You have to stop crying-- You'll get us both in trouble!" She pleaded, clinging to the edge of the cot.
"Stop crying! Please!"

​

 

[Safton]

​

Scene One:
The Convoy

Collab Post w/ Bullyboy Squad
​

Cabrera exhaled sharply as he shut the door and focused his cold look on the two men outside.

Stripping off the white fabric he spoke to McKenzie. "Make sure they have all they need and give me a list if there's something you don't have."

He tossed the thing into the medic's chest and looked to Xander.

"You stay here with them tonight." Their leaders date had to wait. "Your wife won't be joining you. But you will speak with her in the morning."

Xander's head snapped toward the door to face Cabrera, eyes narrowed on the Samaritan as he spoke. He remained silent even as the man offered supplies to Mackenzie... that is, until the man brought up Nari.

"What do you mean? Where is she?" Xander asked, his tone sharp.

Ignacio remained braced and his face was serious. "She's on her way to my home. She's going to be taken care of and you'll talk to her in the morning." He repeated.

Xander's posture stiffened, jaw clenched as his hands tightened into fists at his side. His muscles twitched as he briefly considered crossing the distance to Cabrera to lash out, but resisted the urge as he glanced at the door behind the man.

His furious gaze settled back on the Samaritan. "You son of a bitch," he hissed between gritted teeth. "That wasn't part of the deal."

Ignacio didn't falter but his chin dipped, seeing the knotting muscles in the other man's arms. He watched and waited, ready to put Font in his place if the local leader was to try and express his anger with fists.

"It is now." He moved, about to pass the other but their shoulders clashed and he turned his head to speak towards man's ear. "I'll make sure your wife is treated right. You focus on the girls."

Xander felt the anger boiling up inside him at Cabrera's matter-of-fact, dismissive tone. The mention of treating Nari right was too much, especially given what had happened between the two of them earlier that evening.

Xander moved quickly -- not striking, though he certainly could have. Instead he interposed himself bodily in front of Cabrera, eyes narrowed in a challenge.

"The same way you were gonna 'treat' me? The same way your men were gonna treat my girls?" The latter was spoken in a low hiss, as if mindful that his voice might carry down the hall and through the infirmary door. Font shook his head with a scoff. "And I'm supposed to trust she'll be safer in a place full of you pricks?" Xander demanded, his tone dripping with venom.

Cabrera was about to walk but he halted. His bodyguard tensed up on high alert. But the guy didn't move without an order.

Dark eyes on dark eyes. Ignacio stared into that glare without a waver. But his own gaze was not just a warning one. He couldn't hide the weight of responsibility he felt. The guilt. But none of that was for Xander's ears. He wasn't his priest and sure as hell he wasn't his lover.

"Move." Reverberated in his chest. Guttural promise of violence. Just to release that pent up anger.

Xander was all too aware of the intensity behind Cabrera's glare. Font felt vaguely like a matador taunting a bull in that moment, to say nothing of the armed guard standing just a few meters away. Yet it didn't cross his mind even for a second to stand down -- even as Cabrera ordered him to.

Xander stood defiantly still, every muscle tense and coiled like a spring as his jawline dropped toward his chest -- a subconscious protection against a sudden punch.

The tension in the air was palpable. Like fucking static. Charged. The guard nearby shifted his weight from one foot to another, never taking his eyes off of them.

Cabrera took a step forward, closing the gap between them until there was only a breath of space separating them. He could sense the heat radiating off man's body. See the pulse throbbing at the other man's neck.

Cabrera leaned in until his cheek brushed Xander's. His voice dropped to a low growl, soft enough that only the other man could hear.

"Kiss me. Punch me. Or get the fuck off my face."

Xander was utterly still, able to hear the sound of his heart pounding in his ears as Cabrera closed the space between them -- so close that Font caught a whiff of the sweat on his skin. His teeth ground against one another at Cabrera's defiant challenge. Xander didn't delude himself into thinking the man's words were anywhere near as playful as they came across.

An intrusive thought flashed through the forefront of his mind: an image of his hand snapping up to grab Cabrera by the head, smashing his face against a row of lockers until red flowed.

But his eyes unfocused for a brief second, looking past Cabrera's form just long enough to settle on the infirmary door beyond. A new image now settled in his mind: Nari, Haewon, Minnie. If Nari was gone for now... it was on him to watch over the girls and the rest of the School. He couldn't do that if he got himself killed or sent away.

Xander let out a slow breath he didn't know he'd been holding before taking a measured half-step back. He didn't deign to look Cabrera in the eyes again as he went to step past him, his shoulder grazing harshly against that of the Samaritan.

NanLia Miaow Crono @MokaChan Togy BeyondDandy @SlaughterMelon The Cat Man​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy​

Greg's body hummed with anticipation as he hobbled out of the building. The moonlit courtyard greeted him with a sullen crowd that just began to gather in the usual place. They were summoned out of their rooms and beds without explanation. Not like he was in his room or bed, though. He was making new friends.

The air was crisp yet the atmosphere seemed thick and heavy with apprehension. The dried stains of blood on the concrete looked black. Like dark flowers blooming in the night. For her.

Greg scanned the faces. Taking in the fear and uncertainty shining in their eyes. He could practically smell the hopelessness that seemed to emanate from every one of them.

He didn't like it. Weak prey. Not made to face the wolf pack.

His keen gaze shifted to the Samaritan leader as Cabrera stepped forward and his voice cut through the heavy silence.

"I gathered you here to apologize." He let the words sink in before he continued. "You might have heard what my men have done. You have the right to be upset." He looked at the gathered Samaritans. "Let me make this clear, though. There always will be consequences to disobedience. And even my men will pay for such actions in blood."

Greg's attention was momentarily diverted by a sharp growl of the engine in the distance and the car spotlights shooting through the dark. They illuminated a baseball batting cage and the three men inside. One on each side of the narrow tunnel covered in the black net and one in the middle. Each shirtless and barefoot. Their bodies, exposed to the bright light cast long shadows.

With a slow, measured gait Buster limped towards the cage even before Cabrera encouraged it.

"Go on. Come closer." The raider said, strutting there as well. "Revenge is an act of passion." He stared directly at the man in the middle who kept staring back like a betrayed dog. "Vengeance is an act of justice." The leader stopped and gave the two men on the fringes of the cage a firm nod. "You decide what it is for you."

So it wasn't a test. It wasn't just entertainment either. It was sustenance for the angry hearts.

Buster's holler startled the crowd. "Beat them to the ground!" His gaze locked on Arthur's face. Hoping the man had it in him. To kill.

BeyondDandy NanLia Safton Togy The Cat Man @MokaChan @SlaughterMelon Crono
​

 

[Safton]

Flashback
Several Months Ago...​

Xander was doing his second perimeter check of the day – a routine he had hammered home within himself at his new home. Complacency was a cold-blooded killer, after all. He was pacing along the roof, surveying the fenceline when something caught his eye. The gate. He paused, lifting the pair of binoculars that hung around his neck to his eyes.

The gate had been shifted slightly – still chained together, but a sufficiently large gap remained to perhaps allow someone – or something – through. He muttered a curse under his breath, knowing that it was possible the school’s yard had already been breached. He cast a cursory glance around, seeing nothing, before hobbling downstairs to the school’s front door. He drew his weapon in one hand, taking a deep breath before lifting the crossbar and throwing the door open.

In the moments that followed, he froze for what may have been the first time in as long as he could remember. There was a human figure on the other side of the door, but it was no ghoul scratching to get in. This form was immediately familiar. Some small part of his mind wondered if perhaps she was a hallucination: a manifestation of his loneliness.

Gun hanging loosely in his hand at his side, Xander stared, wide-eyed at the young woman. “Nari?” he said in a shaky whisper. The gun dipped instinctively in his hands and he saw Nari’s eyes widen as she burst into tears, stepping forward to throw her arms over his shoulders.

Xander didn’t hesitate, enfolding Nari in his arms and squeezing her tight against his chest. He felt her tears soaking his shirt, resting his chin against the top of her head as he held her. In their embrace he felt the emotions seeping out of him in the ultimate catharsis: the months of isolation, the hopelessness. The acceptance that most of the people he knew were likely either dead or somewhere that he’d never find them.

He wasn’t sure how long they remained like that before pulling away. Xander reached down to give her hand a soft squeeze. “Stay here,” he murmured. “I’ll be right back.” He slipped away reluctantly, stepping outside and slipping across the courtyard to the gates. He saw the dead there, approaching steadily – only a few dozen yards away. He pursed his lips. That was a problem for later. He ran forward, pulling the gates together and making sure the chain was secure before retreating back inside and bolting the door.

Xander placed a hand on Nari’s shoulder. “Are you all right?” Xander immediately drew his hand back with an apologetic look as Nari jolted underneath his touch.

Nari nodded slowly in the low light. "Yes, better now, thank you. How long have you been here?"

Xander took a deep breath, casting a look back down the hallway… one they’d both frequently walked down together on their way to lunch. “Almost two weeks now. Not long. I had to… clear it out. I’ve barely been able to do more than that,” he said solemnly, his memory floating back to the images of having to put down their undead former students and coworkers.

"I'm sorry,” Nari whispered softly, barely audible even in the silent confines of the corridor.

Xander felt a lump in his throat as he saw tears welling up in Nari’s eyes. He reached out slowly, gauging her reaction to his intent, before slowly taking her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. “Thank you. But it’s not your fault.” After a moment, he offered another squeeze before gesturing down the hall. “C’mon, I have some food and water stocked along with a place where you can get some rest,” he offered with a smile. “You look exhausted.” An expression of concern creased his features. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

As they talked, Xander escorted Nari down the hall toward the back of the school, where his old office awaited. Inside were several stacks of canned food he'd pilfered from the cafeteria alongside bottled water. Towards the corner were gym mats covered in blankets and pillows, which she could only assume was his bed.

"I'm not hurt, not very. Just a few scratches but not from… Nothing to worry about,” Nari replied awkwardly.

Xander nodded slowly, understanding Nari’s meaning as she explained. He wasn’t going to press following the reassurance, as shaky as it was. He gestured over toward the mats, scrambling to grab a bottle of water for her and some canned soup. “Please, by all means,” he said.

He sat down across from her once she began eating, a respectful distance away. “You’re the first friendly face I’ve seen since…” Xander shook his head, glancing away.

Nari's hands shook as she opened the tin of soup and brought it to her lips, drinking the cold salty liquid swiftly, before quickly guzzling down the water thereafter. Once she finished, she nodded. "Me too," she said quietly, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "Well, I could see people in the streets from my apartment, but that was right after. No one since." She bit her lower lip. "I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse to have survived," she whispered softly.

Xander felt a pit in his gut. He wanted to say something encouraging to Nari. Something like, Don’t say that. Your life is valuable. Every hour we have is precious!

But nothing of the sort came out of his mouth, mostly because he’d been in the same position as her – very recently, in fact – and had experienced the same thoughts. Someone spouting trite platitudes like those would have been tempting to punch at the time. So instead he nodded his solemn understanding and spoke softly. “You’re here now. Neither of us are alone anymore. That’s what matters.”

Nari smiled sadly and nodded, setting the water aside and capping the top. She sat in uncomfortable silence before she spoke again. "Is the building… clear? I'd like to go to my classroom, get a clean jumpsuit?"

Xander nodded at Nari’s question. “Yes. I’ve checked every classroom, office, closet, and hallway I could think of. Gym, cafeteria, and labs, too. I cleared the last of the service corridors a couple of days ago. Your room was intact, last I saw.”

He paused, looking around before grabbing a few items and offering them to Nari. “Um, here. I’ve been harvesting rainwater for bathing and washing my clothes. And here are some wet wipes. It’s not the lap of luxury, but it’s what we’ve got.”

Sensing the question behind her eyes, Xander continued: “I checked the water pressure when I first got here, but for some reason it doesn’t seem to be working. Best guess is that someone shut it off on this side, maybe worried about contamination? The school has its own well-water system, independent of the rest of the county. I thought I could get it working again… but that’s way over my head.”

Xander waved it away. “But that’s not important right now. You go get cleaned up. If you need anything, you know where to find me,” he said with a small smile.

***​

A short while later Nari returned to where Xander was, refreshed and in a change of clothing. She smiled weakly as she returned the wipes and rainwater to their respective stockpiles. She'd clearly made an effort to avoid using too much. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Xander smiled. “No worries. This is your home as much as it is mine,” he said, a sentiment that seemed to bring an immediate smile to Nari’s features. He glanced around at the room. The illumination through the skylights had dimmed considerably and soon it would be time for his normal sleep rotation… as much as he could manage at any given time, at any rate.

Nari, for her own part, looked exhausted. “You must be tired and it’s getting to be about that time anyway,” he said. “You should stay in here for the night. There’s a sofa in Coach Mills’ old office. I’ll, um, go keep watch while you sleep,” Font remarked, understanding that she might not be comfortable having anyone nearby while she was vulnerable in her sleep – even him. Xander was already moving to stand up when Nari spoke.

"No, please." Nari said quickly before pausing, a deep flush crossing her cheeks as she swallowed nervously. "I've been alone for so long. I'd rather not be alone, if that's okay."

Xander looked at her in surprise, eyes wide before nodding slowly. “I understand,” he said. And he did – more than he cared to admit.

He went about setting up the bed for them, scrabbling together more makeshift blankets and deciding to use his own rucksack as a pillow. “I’ll keep watch for a while, okay?” he reassured Nari, sitting down on the mat a respectful distance away from her.

Nari nodded slowly, moving to crawl into Xander’s makeshift palette he'd been using for quite some time. He watched as she pulled the blanket up over her shoulder and curled onto her side facing him, swallowing hard before turning away.

The minutes ticked by.

Xander sat on the gym mat, arms wrapped around his knees, listening to the near-silence that surrounded them. He had chosen the interior office specifically not only because it was spacious, defensible, and well-positioned inside the school to reach other areas… but because you couldn’t readily hear noise from outside like the dead.

Now, however, he almost wished for something… though the sound of Nari’s soft breathing helped more than he cared to admit. He was about to settle down himself when her voice in the darkness suddenly made him jolt.

"Xander?" Nari paused, seemingly holding her breath before blurting out the rest of what she had to say. "Will you hold my hand? Please?"

Xander turned, his eyes widening at her request before he nodded slowly – though he knew that the gesture would likely be lost in the dim light. Without a word, he slid to the very edge of the gym mat until he was nestled directly next to Nari’s sofa, his former “bed”. He placed his back against it right below where her head rested, swallowing hard as he reached up to take her hand, her arm resting on his shoulder easily. Her hand felt small, delicate against his… but the callouses there spoke the truth of the gifted engineer he’d once known. Xander resisted the intrusive thought that had him leaning his head down to plant a soft kiss against the back of her palm. Instead, he settled for interlacing his fingers with those of Nari and giving her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze. “Is that better?” he asked, his hoarse voice little more than a whisper.

***​

Xander woke up the next morning to the early morning sun streaming through the skylight, instinctive panic setting in. Not only had he fallen asleep on watch, he had slept through his early morning patrol!

He went to bolt upright, only to freeze at the sensation of Nari's form nestled against side, breathing softly, her head resting on his chest… the same chest that was now blossoming with a deep, steady warmth that he couldn’t attribute solely to the morning sunlight. Any thought of leaping out of bed to attend to his chores was forgotten as he settled back into place and closed his eyes…

Collab Post w/ NanLia​

 

[Aegis]

vs.



SCENE THREE
The Fight

TW: Extreme gore and strong language​

The intensity of their combative stares was razor wire coiling and cutting each other to ribbons with sheer menacing eye contact. Connor was numb to the spray of spit leaving his mouth as he heaved. He was numb to his split lips oozing blood, the nauseating crunch of his guts from the tension in his body, and the monotonous thrum of his heart in his ears blocking all sound. It seemed as though North was the same as the drooling monster stumbled toward Connor on all fours.

Connor staggered up onto his feet and shot a kick into North's shoulder as he twisted backward and staggered to the ground. This guy just wouldn't FUCKING quit. The soldier leapt onto The Wrestler in a full mount before North swung wildly and backhanded Connor across the chin sending a rain of sweat from his swamped hair, but that wouldn't be enough to dissuade him. It was sink or swim here. If Wes was to be believed, kill or be killed here, too. The man let out an aggravated scream that tore every ounce of air from his lungs and left his muscles howling for oxygen as he hauled back and slammed his knuckles straight into North's face.

Spoiler: Warning: Gore

Teeth gave way to bone and skin as Connor felt two things: the reverberation of impact shoot through his skeleton and rattle his brain and the more gritty, toe-curling crunch of The Wrestler's teeth sinking several centimeters back into his mouth. The Soldier withdrew his fist from North's face as he reviewed the damage in quick flick of his eyes; skin and meat peeled from his knuckles like bugs splatted across the windshield of North's teeth, but the real damaged was North's mouth looking like someone punched in a window with shards of enamel and gum sinking into his throat. North let out a sickening gurgle as he spat the debris.

Then, a laugh. A laugh so unhinged and sinister it gripped the audience and the ring in the repulsive tones of a mad man. Instantly, Connor was drawn into the insanity.

"SHUT UP!"

The Soldier demanded as he threw another blow across The Wrestler's cheek, but still he laughed. North's belly tensed and buckled as the man began to cackle as though he had thought of a joke but was too busy laughing at his own punchline to deliver it. Punch. PUNCH. PUNCH. Connor delivered hammer blow after hammer blow on North to lessening effect every time as the laugh merely grew in volume, but the worst was the broken smile he gave the man above him.

Spoiler: Warning: Gore

North's lips cracked out and peeled back as though the muscle in his face was enough to tear the tissue Connor had broken time and time again, and the actual inside of his mouth looked like a shark with haphazard teeth dotted in uneven rows down the length of his gums. Each draw of air spat out in that mind-twisting euphoria sent spittle, blood, and chunks of teeth spilling from the corners of his mouth.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

North's excitement pressed at buttons in Connor's brain that were better left undisturbed. It sent anxiety screaming through his nerves as his mind struggled to comprehend the inhuman tangle of emotions such a sight elicited in him. He needed to shut him up. Connor needed to shut him up-- now, or else something was going to break inside him and he'd never be able to fix it.

At this point, in the faint, dull scene that was the world beyond the combat the duo was locked in someone had announced something. Yet, both of the combatants were too engrossed to notice.

"SHUT UP!"

Connor demanded a final time before he made his next move.

Spoiler: Warning: Gore

The Soldier lunged forward on top of North with such a force that it bounced the man's head off the ground. Connor seized the sides of The Wrestler's head in sweaty patches of hair and nails digging into skin like he was going to give him the most violent kiss anyone had ever witnessed, but then he threw his thumbs over North's cheeks from the sides of his face, levelled them over his eyes, and sunk them into the white masses nail first. North began to hiss and scream as Connor sunk deeper into his eye-sockets, but he could hear none of it. Blood began to bubble and spill up into Connor's palms and through his fingers in a warm, thick spray of viscera. Connor pressed. He pressed-- tore.

As Connor thrusted his fingers into the wound he inflicted, North began to whine and shout, "Imgonnadieimgonnadieimgonnadie--"

Yet, he seemed inexplicably happy about it. Even as The Wrestler kicked and struggled beneath The Soldier's weight, he seemed exhilarated. The laugh echoed back from North's mouth one last time as The Soldier pressed forward with one final pop. Then, North laid still. North laid still with a puddle of his own blood gathering around the back of his head.

Finally, a silence had come upon the room. Connor's mind could be at ease now that the mind-spinning wails had stopped, and the man stood from the corpse and staggered back across the length of the cage, exhaustion clipping at his will to stand. It didn't seemed appropriate that there should be a final, victorious cry. As a matter of fact, this entire ordeal had been so vile-- so perverted, that The Soldier wanted nothing more than to fall asleep now and never wake up.

However, he needed to stay strong for Tanner. The world seemed to regain some semblance of permanency to it, and he craned his head up toward the crowd to gauge their reactions to the events..

Safton NanLia Bullyboy Squad BeyondDandy Namazu Crono Togy The Cat Man ​

 

[Aegis]

Several Minutes Later...​

The hero's welcome faded into the past like paper laid upon a basin of water as only hell greeted them upon entering the city. Street after street was choked with the husks of cars and other vehicles while the air was thick with ash and smoke from the burning buildings in downtown; their only saving grace being the fact that the outskirts of town had not yet been caught in the blaze. Morales flicked on the wipers to keep the gray dust off the Humvee's windshield, and Connor had to keep scrapping his fingers across the front of his goggles just to see. Not to mention, the ash kept layering his tongue every time he breathed and soon his mouth was dry with soot and anticipation. Visibility was low. It was quiet. The world seemed not but dancing shadows shrouded in haze as the Humvee's wheels cracked over mounds of glass and debris with the dull hum of the engine echoing up and down the street.

The column of vehicles twisted its way through the maze of metallic wrecks-- guns swiveling to look into shattered storefronts and dim alleys. Crossroad Blues was swimming through an ocean of doubt; each man swallowed by the silence of the city and quiet dread of their comms. No man dare speak. No man dare cough. No man dare breathe too loud and attract whatever lurked in those shady corners they couldn't see.

That's the thing, none of them had seen more than a few blurry photos during the brief, so whatever their minds cooked up was what plagued their thoughts. The very idea of not knowing was what put the thorn of fear into the hearts of the soldiers as they scraped their way through the graveyard of vehicles. Connor's eyes strained to see through his blurred goggles as he saw a silhouette begin to manifest behind the shattered bay window of a convenience store, the thing had stretched arms and legs, mouth agape with gore and viscera, and bare skin pale like death itself. He blinked. The silhouette had vanished despite him looking in more-or-less the same spot, and that's when he knew his nerves were beginning to grate against the atmosphere. Connor knew that they looked like people, so that couldn't have possibly been one of them.

"Okay," A voice cut across the net-- their commander, "next right. Said in the brief he's some low-tier bureaucrat. Guy sheltered in the municipal building with his wife and two sons."

Morales turned the wheel--as they were the lead truck, and the Humvee lurched to take a turn. Out of nowhere a shadowed figure was in the middle of the road, and the Humvee bashed against it as the figure flew back a few feet and bounced off the ground. Morales slammed on the brakes and brought them to a stop just at the feet of the topple form.

"Fuck, man! FUCK! Connor can you see 'em? They good?"

Connor whipped the turret toward the silhouette with the turret levelled at it, "I don't know. Dude, it's not on you. They came out of nowhere."

Then, the ever-present voice of reason, Sergeant Heckler, spoke up from the TC seat, "Dammit, I'll go look."

Heckler disengaged the combat lock and popped open the door. The Sergeant snatched his M4 from the sling around his shoulder and levelled it into the gray nothing that was the city streets. The radio cracked on again, "What's the holdup, Crossroad-13?"

Morales snatched at the radio, "Slight complication, sir. Hit a civvie."

"Fuck dude. Are they good?"

Morales shot a look up to Connor through the turret hole, but he simply watched heckler approach, cranked his head back down, and shrugged.

"Unknown, sir."

"Find out."

Connor kept the 240 trained on the body as his Sergeant walked up and knelt next to them. However, the body stirred before he could do much else. The woman-- they could see it now, sat up with the right side of her head peeling away from the pavement in a ripe squish. She let out a low moan and then lunged at Heckler who staggered back onto all fours with a slight yelp.

This was it-- this was the moment he had been preparing himself for. Connor slapped the safety to fire and ripped off a burst of rounds into the woman's torso sending bones and flesh scattering across the street. At the angle he was firing from, the rounds had torn the woman clean in half right at the abdomen. The casings slapped against the roof of the Humvee in shrill clinks of metal on metal as adrenaline slammed his veins, but the worst part was that after she peeled in half she kept moving. The woman continued to crawl toward Heckler who scrambled to his feet and the look on his face showed that it took everything in him not to scream out in fear, but his response was what they all needed to see: Heckler levelled his rifle and shot the woman clean in the forehead. Her head bounced from the ground, but she laid completely still.

Little did they know, they had just rung the dinner bell.

In the distant streets, a great moan sounded like a stadium-full of sports fans and their team just got a goal. The sound was maddeningly loud as the screams echoed around the buildings with enough force to bring a ringing to their ears even from the distance. A simple mistake had awakened the city, and now all the dead knew where they were.

 

[NanLia]

Flashback
Several Months Ago ...
Collab with Safton ​

Nari slept soundly, for the first time in weeks she felt comfort and safety. She was warm and felt protected and while all of these were good things, something tugged at her mind. Something was off… wrong. Nothing dangerous, nothing alarming, but something had changed from the night before to now and she couldn’t quite place it. In the realm between dreaming and wakefulness, she could hear the gentle thump of a heartbeat against her ear and something gently brushing the top of her head.

The moment she recalled where she was and who she was with, Nari bolted up in bed, eyes wide. She’d crawled into Xander’s bed! Sometime in the night, she’d moved off of the gym mat he’d so carefully made into a bed for her and onto the makeshift pallet of clothing and blankets on the floor. Worse yet, she appeared to have squirmed her way into his sheets!

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her cheeks burning red as she scrambled, unsuccessfully, to disentangle herself from the sheet and create some space between them.

“It’s fine, really.” She glanced up to see that Xander was smiling, though clearly embarrassed himself. “Here, let me help.”

Nari paused long enough to let Xander try and assist, but all that ended up happening was him tugging her closer as he attempted to loosen the knots in the bedding: dragging her small form closer to his own, his hands brushing along her midriff and back. She felt heat flush through her core – not embarrassment but the heat of attraction, the very same she’d felt weeks ago at the end of their date. “You never took me bowling.”

She didn’t look away from Xander as confusion crossed his features, his hands pausing at their work as he processed what she’d said. Why had she uttered those words? She didn’t know! Of all the things she could have possibly said at this very moment in time her thoughts had traveled back to a missed opportunity for them.

Xander had been looking away, blushing furiously as he tried to think of some way to work his way out of this situation while hoping he hadn’t offended Nari when he heard the woman speak. He froze. Like that, with a single simple statement, and some precarious proximity, she had managed to take him back to their date all those months ago. A promise made, but not kept. For some reason, he felt a very different kind of heat well up inside him now. A trace of the warm affection he’d felt for her when their lips met and sent lightning coursing through him. He swallowed hard.

He could explain that it was because the outbreaks had spread shortly after their date and local business started cutting their hours or shutting down entirely, curfews were enacted, and quarantine rules came down as he tried desperately to check in on his family.

All true.

Yet, he did none of those things. Instead, he turned to look at Nari, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I… how can I make it up to you?” Xander asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Nari wasn't sure what to expect as an answer to her absurd statement. The proximity to him, someone she was evidently still attracted to, and now possibly the only other person left in the city? Why was it that her mind went to their date, their kiss, and future promises?

Her cheeks burned a deeper shade of pink as he apologized for the missed opportunity. She swiftly shook her head and looked back at him, trying to meet his gaze. Instead of saying that it was fine, she responded with "We can stay in bed a little longer…?"

Xander’s heart flared with heat, the tips of his ears flushing as he looked at the woman next to him. The woman in bed with him. He swallowed the lump in his throat even as the sensible part of his brain told him it was a bad idea: not just potentially compromising their friendship, but this very instant he was already past due for his perimeter check and various other chores! If he had any sense he’d tell her this and take his leave.

But that’s not what happened. “Um, yeah. We can do that,” Xander murmured with a warm smile, his eyes falling to her lips before he forced them to snap back to her eyes. He resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand as he eased back onto the mats… and very nearly against Nari, the distance between them only inches, maybe less, as he could feel her warmth on his skin.

Xander felt the tension in the air for several long moments after the agreement… tension which Nari ultimately broke as she prompted his arm upward. Initially surprised, he eventually understood her intent and lifted it up so that she could slide underneath it and sidle against his torso.

Xander’s chest bloomed with warmth, his heart beating rapidly and he didn’t doubt Nari could feel it as she settled against him. He wanted nothing more than to lean down and press a soft, gentle kiss to the crown of her head, to take in the scent of her silky black hair, to run a calloused hand along her pale cheek in a soft caress…

But he pushed the intrusive thoughts away, instead settling for lowering the arm she had moved to wrap it protectively around Nari’s petite form, doing it as “platonically” as he could before lowering his own head to rest gently atop her own and letting the moments slip away in one another’s embrace.

Nari remained wordless for a time, eyes closed willing herself back to sleep but it eluded her, and probably for the best. She sighed softly and shifted, tilting her head so she could see his face. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning up to brush a gentle kiss against his lips.

Xander heard Nari’s soft sigh and craned his head to look down at her just as she spoke. He was beginning to open his mouth to speak – asking what she was thanking him for – when suddenly her soft, full lips were on his in a featherlight touch. Suddenly he was back, months ago outside that restaurant… not wanting the moment to end as his nerves went alight. His eyes closed and he gently returned the kiss… but he resisted the urge to deepen it.

Instead, after a precious moment, he reluctantly broke the contact… but didn’t depart from Nari right away. He continued to press his forehead against her own, his breath intermingling with her own as his eyes remained closed. His calloused hand gently reached up to run along her cheek. “Thank you, Nari,” he murmured under his breath.

Knowing he would lose all restraint if he allowed himself to remain in this compromising position any longer, he forced himself to slowly scoot back and stand stiffly. Every movement away from Nari felt like he was tearing away from some part of himself and seemed like the hardest thing he’d had to do since the start of the outbreak even though he knew it would only be for a little while.

Xander looked down at her fondly, nearly losing his train of thought at the beautiful woman tangled up in the sheets below him before speaking with a bashful smile. “I need to go do a perimeter check and get started on the chores. You can stay in bed if you want. Or you can come with me and I’ll show you my routine. It’s up to you,” he said with a smile.

* * *​

Nari followed along Xander’s side as he toured his daily morning routine, starting on the roof to check the fence line from a distance and spot any problem areas to handle. Following this he did a physical check of the same perimeter, fixing any parts of the fence that needed to be closed in and dispatching any of the dead that ended up tangled up. This secondary reason for the physical check made Nari nauseous, she was thankful that none of the dead that had followed her through the streets yesterday had lingered on.

Xander had also shared his plans for further shoring up the school itself, covering front-facing windows to allow them to use light during the night and avoid attacking the living or the dead. He’d shown his water collection system on the roof, which was little more than various containers to collect rainwater. Following this he’d brought her to his limited stores, with little more than a few days worth of food and water; something drastic needed to be done. Finally, he ended the tour in the school's pump room, where the well sat quiet.

After a brief discussion, they decided that the well had been shut off on their side, likely by the janitorial staff who wanted to avoid flooding while the school was shut down during the state of emergency. They talked about their growing need to gather more supplies and while Nari had wanted to join Xander on the excursion he managed to talk her out of it.

“It’ll be faster if I go alone,” he reassured her. “I can get in and out of places faster, I have the training to do this. Plus,” he shrugged with a smile, “I’ll feel better knowing that you’re here, and safe, and keeping our home protected.”

As much as Nari wanted to protest further she couldn’t argue with his logic, she was surprised she had survived as long as she had. She sighed and nodded. “Alright, but no risks, and back by nightfall. And we need to think long term - my senior class was working on irrigation systems for the elementary’s community garden project; they’ll have seeds and growing supplies there and they would have been closed like our school.” She hoped that would be enough to get them food for now, but also weeks from now.

Xander nodded his agreement. “Alright, I’ll head out at first light.”

 

[NanLia]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

Temma led the young boy away from the intake area towards the inner portion of the prison, her heels clicking on the concrete floor the only noise heard for several minutes until finally she stopped and turned to face Tanner. He was young and looked younger than he claimed to be and she idly wondered if that had to do with what he'd seen outside. She pitied him, truly, she'd never been outside the prison walls throughout all of this and what she'd heard from those that had, she never wanted to.


"Alright, Tanner." She dropped down to a squat so she was at height with him once more. "On the other side of these doors is the prison, it's late so it'll be quieter than normal but there will be people of all kinds. Don't you pay them any mind, you stay with me and we'll get you where you need to go. Can you do that?" She waited for him to acknowledge, in an awkward nod before she stood once more.


She stepped up to the door and pushed it open, surprised to find the main area of the prison far busier than normal post-fight. Though she supposed it hadn't been much of a fight and people didn't get the violence they wanted. The thought alone made her heart ache for Derek; he worked so hard to make sure fight nights were perfect, not just training with the fighters but every minute detail that went with ensuring the performance was perfect


Temma turned back to see Tanner shying away in the doorway and she reached out and offered her hand.

* * *​

Without much of a fuss Temma got Tanner to the infirmary, thankful that the medics were on call for the fight and they didn't have to wait. She sent an enforcer off ahead to the kitchen to wake some of the senior staff and then on to the family quarters, asking them to prepare a room for the boy.


He was well-behaved, she noted as he responded to the medics' questions and underwent their tests. They had no questions for herself, thankfully, she'd done this enough times with various family units, that the medical staff knew she was simply the liaison.


Soon enough Tanner was given a clean-ish bill of health, while he was at no risk of infection to anyone else in the family units, he was underweight and malnourished - nothing new for newcomers to the prison and certainly not out of the ordinary for children who arrived at their gates. He was given fresh clothing and directed to a shower to clean up and when he was out, his old clothing was taken to be cleaned.


"Alright, love." She smiled, holding her hand out for the boy once again. "I've got a decent dinner lined up for you, you hungry?" Tanner nodded, and Temma was glad to see him coming out of his shell, with her at least. "Good, me too."

* * *​

In the dimly lit cafeteria, a table was already set up with several steaming trays of food. Most of which had been reheated, though Temma doubted Tanner would care too much. He was already tugging at her hand as they neared the table and once he was seated he only asked her once if it was alright if he ate before he set on the dishes, scooping piles onto his plate.


She smirked as he dug into the food and after a few minutes of chowing down he opened up, regaling her with stories of what he'd seen and experienced on the road, some moments far darker than others and more than a few that should have been dark but Tanner had found humor and light in them. One thing was for certain, Tanner idolized Connor. Despite this man not being family of any relation, Tanner clearly viewed the strange man who saved him over and over again as his personal hero. She knew it would be a devastating day when Connor either succumbed to what life here was or died in the ring trying to keep his worldview intact.


Eventually, Tanner slowed, in both eating and speaking, and not long after that, he started nodding off right where he sat. Temma scooped the boy up into her arms and carried him to the family ward. She was thankful to find that her message had been heeded and they had a bed prepared in the boys' ward. Temma reflected on the wildly different beliefs from before the world went to shit and now. Before people like her, him, wouldn't be allowed near kids. Trans and gay educators and caretakers were scrutinized harshly whenever they interacted with kids but yet here? Here she was the most trusted among the leadership because she was who she was.


Temma made her way back out to the prison proper, intent on finding Derek and making both their nights just a little better but when she stepped out of the family ward she was shocked to find another fight in progress. What the fuck is happening here tonight? She thought as she made her way to the viewing area, finding Derek cage side, coaching North as the new guy, Connor, fought him. She sighed and went to take a seat to wait for the end of the fight, hopeful it would end the strange night.

Namazu Bullyboy Squad Aegis Safton ​

 

[Namazu]

&

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

The moment The King of the Cage was down and Connor straddled the half coherent champion, Derek sprung off place. His eyes locked on the two but he ran for the gate. The guards were already there, trying to open the thing but the mechanism was stuck. It took mere seconds before the Lieutenant was done with them struggling and growled fiercely. "Move!"

Silver pistol flashed in the bright illumination and two bullets shot through the lock. Derek kicked the cage door in and dashed inside.

Weston was already on his feet and down the steps when Derek burst into the pit.

"God fucking damn it." Weston muttered under his breath before calling out:

"Don't interfere! Fight's over. Back down - all of you!"

Despite bellowing this out at the top of his lungs, the roar of the crowd matched his volume and outnumbered him. Even if Derek did hear, that didn't mean the man would listen.

Hand on his weapon at his side in case this fight went any more sideways, Weston motioned for the two enforcers at the gate to get inside the pit. Weston stayed by the gate, outside the pit, and observed.

Derek's thick boned hand snatched the back of the soldier's neck and he jerked the man back. His fingers clawed into flesh and with an equally wild look in his steely eyes, Derek hammered down the pistol grip. It struck man's temple with vicious force, dazing the victim.

The wet, smacking sounds of repeated hits burst blood off Connor's temporal line and split skin on his cheek. Muffled by the roaring crowds of the laborers. Aroused by the brutal fight and the bestial murder of the Samaritan champion.

Derek didn't hear them. He didn't hear the guards that entered the cage either.

"Boss! Stop!" They didn't dare touch him at first but the Lieutenant didn't listen. His eyes fixed on the massacred expression of the unconscious fighter.

Finally the guards grabbed him. More enforcers started to force the crowds back as they poured towards the VIP section and the cage entrance.

"The King is dead!" Someone hollered and the rest slipped into a chanting trance.

"NO MORE KINGS!"

"NO MORE KINGS!"

"Derek!" Weston called for the man again, but to no avail. The din of the crowd was too loud anyway, even if Derek had anything other than bloodlust in his head right now. Glancing back, Weston's eyes went wide momentarily as he saw the swell of the crowd push against the enforcers and into his section.

The last thing he wanted to do was be stuck in a cage with Derek and be surrounded by an angry mob. Yanking the walkie-talkie off his hip, Weston pressed down the button and yelled into it, hoping he could be understood above the noise.

"Mayday, all enforcers, I need backup in the pit immediately, we have a potential-"

Before Weston could finish his sentence with riot, several in the crowd managed to slip past one of the enforcers and started to charge towards Weston and the cage entrance. Trapped and with few alternatives, Weston drew King's firearm from its holster again and aimed at the man in the crowd nearest to him, his own back pressed to the cage entrance.

"One more fucking step and I put a fucking hole in your head!" Weston made sure to take his thumb off the walkie-talkie to open the channel for others. Hopefully anyone on the other end heard enough to send help.

Bullyboy Squad Aegis Safton NanLia ​