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cwosont

cwosont

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salvation

act 1, scene 1




scroll





0900 - 23 JULY 2020
SAN FRANCISCO BAY AREA

Two weeks have passed since the Oakland Fireflies received reinforcements from Sacramento to liberate the SF Quarantine Zone. All civilians have been relocated to the central Firefly base at UC Berkeley and any resources found within the zone have gone along with them. All FEDRA soldiers stationed in SF are believed to be dead after a number of survivors were killed during sweeps through the city. Unknown to the Fireflies, a small group of soldiers managed to escape and fled south towards San Mateo.

With their captain's daughter having been taken by the Fireflies, the remaining FEDRA soldiers decide to infiltrate the militia base under the guise of harmless survivors in need of aid. From the city they drove down to San Mateo and abandoned their vehicle to travel east across California 92 towards Hayward. With the intention of heading back up north towards the Fireflies, they successfully reached San Leandro late last night and have made camp in the Hillcrest Knolls to replenish their supplies.

GROUP 1: THE ALPHA & THE SNIPER
LAKE CHABOT REGIONAL PARK
At dawn the pair left Hillcrest Knolls to head for Lake Chabot Regional Park in order to hunt for food, their rations dangerously low. Leaving THE ORPHAN in charge of protecting the others, THE ALPHA and THE SNIPER push past their exhaustion to provide for their team.

GROUP 2: THE ORPHAN, THE CIVILIAN, & THE MEDIC
HILLCREST KNOLLS, SAN LEANDRO
Expected to remain at camp with THE ORPHAN tasked with protecting them, THE CIVILIAN and THE COMBAT MEDIC are confronted with the fact that their supplies won't last for long. They can take a risk and go salvaging, or follow orders and hope the others return with enough to keep them going.

GROUP 3: THE SCIENTIST & THE MACGYVER
GENETICS AND PLANT BIOLOGY BUILDING, UC BERKELEY
With the help of Firefly medics, THE SCIENTIST has been collecting medical data on the civilians brought in from the SF Quarantine Zone. In search of any anomalies that may help further their search for a cure, THE SCIENTIST doesn't hesitate to dive into their work while THE MACGYVER kicks back to enjoy the show.

GROUP 4: THE PACIFIST, THE TACTICIAN, & THE ANARCHIST
DOWNTOWN BERKELEY AREA
After joining up with the Oakland Fireflies, previous members of the Sacramento divisions have been assigned to various groups within the organization depending on their skillset. THE ANARCHIST's day begins early with a patrol of the downtown area, both THE PACIFIST and THE TACTICIAN in charge of showing them the ropes.






♡coded by uxie♡
 



warren.





































  • mood



    tired, anxious
















Every night that Warren slept under the stars without Jazmín pained him, plaguing his mind with nightmares until he jolted awake in a cold sweat. He pressed trembling hands against his chest, rubbing at old, familiar scars as he took slow, deliberate breaths. Warren had never been separated from his daughter for more than two days and now the same anxiety he felt when Jazmín was first born had rooted itself in his heart. Logic and reason told him that the Fireflies would never harm a child, but images of her beaten and starved still haunted him long after he awoke. Warren had never been more terrified.

Keeping his team alive proved to be a much needed distraction. There was little room for anything else when he was sinking a blade into an Infected's skull. It was a long journey to the Firefly base without a vehicle and that stretched their supplies thin. After a few days, the Infected were not the only thing Warren had to worry about. They took days off from traveling to scavenge for food or hunt if they were lucky enough to spot wild animals in the abandoned cities they cut through along the way. It was not ideal, not when Warren wanted nothing more than to have Jazmín in his arms, but it was necessary for their survival.

By the time they reached San Leandro, exhaustion had begun to catch up with him. They set up camp in a neighborhood nestled south of Lake Chabot, a perfect area for hunting and fishing. Together they agreed that he and Nico would take care of finding food. Meanwhile, the others would remain safe in the area with Jean was tasked with protecting them. Warren thought some responsibility might do him good, keep him grounded and focused. It is what worked for Warren.

Before leaving in the morning, Warren pulled Jean aside to talk.
"We won't be back 'til dark, if anything happens you'll have to manage on your own,"
He started, searching the orphan's expression for any signs of uncertainty. He pulled out a map from his back pocket.
"If you run into trouble, head to this memorial here. If we come back and you guys are gone, we'll head there and meet back up with you."


Jean, always a man of few words, nodded and said: "Okay. Good luck, and good hunting."

Later that morning, Warren and Nico made the trek from Hillcrest Knolls to Lake Chabot's shore. The alpha pushed past his exhaustion. He knew Katja would insist he needed more rest if she knew just how tired he was, but Warren would argue that food was more important. Out of everyone, himself, Nico, and Jean were best suited for the job, but someone still had to stay behind in case any trouble found them. Having the orphan protect Katja and Carmen was the better option, even if it put a strain on Warren in the end. Eating meat for dinner instead of canned peas or beans would help him recover his strength faster, anyway.

Warren could see abandoned boats lining the water as they approached, some even scattered out in the middle of the lake.
"Let's check them out, see if we can find a few poles to leave out while we hunt,"
He suggested, making way for the nearest boat. Inside were two poles, but no fishing line in sight. They moved onto the next and had better luck, but Warren's stomach still churned. There were two full length rods, line included, but sitting beside them was one of a smaller size. Made for a child. He thought of Jazmín and the last time they had talked about going out to fish together for the first time.

"I promised to take her out to the pier soon."
Warren sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. He turned away and found a small container in a sun bleached backpack.
"Jackpot,"
He called out, tossing the bait over at Nico.
"Let's set up these lines, and then traps past the treeline. We can hope for some rabbits while we look for deer."


































gunslinger



avenged sevenfold










♡coded by uxie♡
 



svea.





































  • mood



    weary

















Trembling hands sought solace against the wall's chilled tiles, fingers desperately attempting to grip onto the tangible reality that threatened to slip through her grasp. With her head bowed in surrender, Svea pressed herself against the unforgiving surface, as if seeking refuge from within.

The unrelenting cascade of freezing water, once a barrier against the slippery slope of detachment, had now transformed into a numbing embrace. As each droplet collided with her skin, it submerged Svea deeper into the depths of her subconscious.

Two weeks had crawled by since the harrowing events unfolded at the QZ. The onset of the relentless soundscape of incessant screams and torrents of explosions that echoed with the resonance of revenge. It was a battlefield where air hung heavy with the weight of loss, and the once-familiar landscape had transformed into a haunting tableau of destruction, with lifeless bodies forming morose piles around every corner.

It had been half a month, yet the memories remained vivid. She should've been happy. They had finally won. Yet, why couldn't she get the image of a crying child out of her mind no matter how hard she tried?

As the gravity of the thought sank in once again, she felt the anguish constrict around her chest. Clenching her fingers tightly into shaking fists, she succumbed to a surge of frustration, unleashing it against the wall before her. The impact reverberated through her knuckles, leaving them marred with blood.

Yet, even as pain seared through her hand, she welcomed it as a distraction. The sting of the open wound against the cold water served as a grim reminder, grounding her in the tangible present, keeping her from being swallowed whole by the overwhelming surge of helplessness.

If only this water could've washed away her sins.

The next morning, Svea flexed her hand, opening and closing it into a fist, her palm held up to the sky where the sun cast its gentle warmth. With each clench, the wounded skin stretched, and the persistent sting served as an unwelcome reminder of the rage that had driven her to punch the wall the night before. But it was a new day, with a new set of frustrations.

With keen eyes that betrayed a history of weariness, she scanned the newcomer up and down—Kaden Yao. This wasn't the first time she had seen him around, but he remained as much a mystery as ever. A stranger, bearing a reputation from the Quarantine Zone he hailed from, notorious for a penchant for violence executed with a distinctive flair. But, as long as the job was done, Svea did not care how it was executed.

With an internal sigh, she extracted a worn map from her back pocket, unfurling it across the barrel in front of the trio. Taya, the residential pacifist, was likely to have the routes etched into her memory. Nevertheless, as Svea prepared to explain them to Kaden, she welcomed Taya's presence in case curiosity got the better of her.

"Listen up, because I'll only be saying this once. There are routes we regularly take, and routes we sure as hell avoid." she began, her finger tracing the faded lines and markings. "If there's an X, don't take it. If there's a circle, take it. Couldn't be simpler."

A momentary pause hung in the air before she issued a stern warning. "And whatever you do, do not go to Addison Apartments or the community theater. Both have only one entrance and one exit. If you get stuck in the apartment's staircase or the theater's one room, you're as good as dead. Consider it kind advice."

Her hand now moved towards a few distinct locations on the faded map. "Places we regularly check for supplies are the civic center and the plaza. As brutal as it sounds, it's where passersbys stop, and it's also where a lot of them meet their end. Taking items off of a dead man is sure a hell of a lot better than starving."

Svea gave Kaden a second to let her words sink in, before continuing. "Since we check these areas regularly, Allston Way and Center Street are where we normally do our sweeps to make sure they're relatively clear. There are traps set along the route for stray walkers. But still keep an eye out, as they normally smell new blood there and get a little rowdy."

Svea then rolled the map, and tossed it to Kaden. "I'll give you a chance to memorize this." She affirmed, her gaze fixed on him. "But only one. I want the map back tomorrow."

































survive



audioarmoury










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



jean.





































  • mood



    exhausted, doubtful
















“I’m pretty much fucked.”


Jean slumped down against the wooden fence, the weight of exhaustion pulling his body to the ground. He’d snuck away from the others under the guise of taking a piss to take a small reprieve from the long journey, as he fished around his pockets and procured a flimsy cigarette box. He flipped the lid open and looked inside: one cigarette remaining. Lucky him.

He trusted Warren, undoubtedly so, and it seemed that trust was mutual. Their previous conversation showed him that much. When Warren spoke, he felt an inexplicable elation, as the soldier’s trust in Jean made him feel important to the team, someone capable of protecting the girls, Katja and Carmen. Perhaps that was his way with people, the very essence of what made him a good leader.

However, this whole plan felt like a death trap, and they were blindly walking towards it. That was, if they made it to the Firefly’s base in the first place– cigarettes weren’t the only thing they were low on. In fact, it would be easier to measure what they did have, versus what they didn’t. Jean’s brows furrowed. He briefly wondered if the plan wasn’t so much of a ruse to pretend to be harmless survivors, and instead a risky operation to rescue the captain’s daughter. If Warren and his bleeding heart got them all killed, well, he’d have a word in the afterlife. He dispelled that thought with the shake of his head, and continued taking stock of his inventory.

Nestled in his waistband, the compact pistol was a familiar weight against his side. Semi-automatic, chambered, and fully loaded with 9mm, with five extra bullets stored in his pockets. The side of the pistol displayed ‘Nano’ across the grip. Jean looked at it almost fondly, the stark reminder of what he had to do to survive in this Hell. He survived, because of this gun. The last person his bullets graced was a Firefly rebel during the attack in the QZ. It was either her, or him. The choice was obvious. Nonchalantly, he returned the pistol to his waistband.

His hand found itself around his lighter, and flicked it open. It was matte black and engraved with a silver skull. He’d had the lighter a long time, and it was scratched up around the edges. Quietly, he returned the lighter back to his pocket, alongside the lonesome cigarette. He’d hold on to it, for now, saving for the right moment.

If they were to last, they needed more than just luck. He wanted more cigarettes. They needed more supplies. Perhaps he should have never come along, and gone off on his own, like he was used to. There were too many ways for this to go to shit, too many unknown variables, and sitting idly while Warren and Nico played provider didn’t feel productive.

The girls may feel the same way.

He stood up, realizing that it didn’t take this long for a man to piss, and trudged back to the others.

—

All thoughts of going solo dissipated when he saw the two, and were firmly replaced with feelings of guilt for having ever considered it in the first place. Both women were reliant, caring, and resilient in the face of danger. Even worse: optimists. Yet, their perspective on the world was more infectious than the actual infected. For Carmen, ever since he stopped the rebel from decorating her body with bullets, he had a profound respect for the woman. She didn’t break, and that was the least he could ask for. Katja was a little… pushy at first, but he could not deny her abilities. He’d have better luck outrunning a hoard of stalkers before he went against these two.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

He skipped straight to business.
“Warren and Nico won’t return until later tonight. Meanwhile, I suggest we make ourselves useful and find supplies. There’s bound to be something in these abandoned houses. And let’s be fucking honest, there’s no way we’re safer sitting here, than out there.”


Jean crossed his arms, and studied their faces.

“Are you with me, or out?”


































quarentine zone



the last of us










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



danilo.





































  • mood



    skeptical, tense
















It could be argued that every scientific advancement since the dawn of time was fueled by doubt; at least, that was the viewpoint Danilo had chosen to adopt the moment the world fell to shit. Doubt - no, skepticism - evolved side by side with human morality to provide our race with both comfort and safety, only one of which was truly needed but both desired to a point of greed until mother nature, God, or whatever higher power at be chose to make plans of their own.

It’s ultimately what brought us most of our advancements. It was the disbelief that we were walking around in uncharted lands that brought us maps and navigation by stars. Our refusal to believe that our bodies were infested with demons and evil energy led to discoveries on our biological anatomy and, eventually, vaccines. Even the creation of fire for our food could be traced back to skepticism when one Neanderthal in ancient times questioned what would happen if they stuck their spoils onto something hot.

Skepticism was coded into our DNA - it’s what had helped us survive as a species for all these years.

Perhaps that’s why Danilo found himself constantly doubting the world around him. Even now, protected from the threats of the world that lurked beyond the Fireflies’ walls, he still found himself in doubt. He was new to this group, a familiar feeling after never fully finding a place where he truly fit in throughout his life. There was no reason to trust any of them; he had barely grown to trust the Sacramento Fireflies before they made their merger. Yet, oddly enough they seemed to put full trust in him. At least, they believed him to be reliable enough to pair him alone with the group’s scientist Aster without so much as a moment of doubt.

Skepticism - perhaps this was simply just a ruse to integrate him fully into their larger community. Or perhaps they had just heard his reputation from the other Sacramento Fireflies and wanted to utilize his abilities. Or perhaps both. In the end he supposed it didn’t really matter. He had stopped taking orders from others long ago and instead followed what he needed to survive, which in this case meant… following orders. The irony was crude. Nevertheless, it was worth an attempt at communicating with Aster rather than standing around with his hands in his pockets all day.

”Are you actually expecting to find anything from all this… research?”
Smooth. Still how could a limited sample size without proper procedures and limited equipment be considered an optimal trial? He had never been the best at conversing with others anyway since his social skills were a bit lacking.
”And by that I mean, what are you hoping to find from all of your… research? Surely you have a goal in mind, yes?”


The biological sciences were never his favorite - he much preferred getting his hands dirty and engineering constructs from the ground up - but he could still respect Aster’s knowledge and gumption. Skepticism. It’s what he was sure was driving Aster’s research: the very thing that had brought advancements in the past. Even if he did feel there was no hope.
”If you need me to assist please let me know, otherwise I can just observe. However, I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty,”
he offered, his voice echoing a bit in the empty chamber that had once been the Genetics and Plant Biology Building. His eyes traced over to the canister of syringes that had been used to collect blood, chills running down his spine as he gave thanks that he wasn’t one of the ones selected to donate for the cause. He shook off the feeling and pressed his back against the wall, eyeing the scientist’s work from afar.
”Though it’s been a while since I’ve done anything even remotely close to your work.”


































hellfire



barns courtney










♡coded by uxie♡
 



Nico.





































  • mood



    tired, weary
















Anxiety danced within Nico's stomach. Nausea ebbing in waves up his throat each second he allowed his mind to wander. No matter how many times he clenched and unclenched his fist in unease or tried desperately to push away the pessimistic thoughts—that plagued his tired brain—he couldn't shake the feeling. Fear, paranoia, hopelessness. Nothing new in the wake of the apocalypse, but now persistent enough in his mind to become a burden.

Nico had ventured out into the decaying wastelands enough times to understand he had to let certain emotions go to survive. Fear would cause you to falter, freezing you in place or causing your unsteady hands to miss a shot. Paranoia fosters a false sense of observance, every sound and shadow a cause for alarm, overwhelming your senses until a real threat slips by. Hopelessness proved the most deadly, morphing into apathy and carelessness.

The thought of at least having somewhere safe to return to was enough to push these feelings away. In the present circumstances, with his home gone, there was nothing to ease the trepidation that raced through his veins.

Every step felt as if he were trudging through sludge. Nico didn't need to look in a mirror to see the dark circles under his eyes or the pallor of his skin. He felt like shit and no doubt he looked it as well.

A glance towards Warren had Nico question if the man faired much better. He can't recall the last time he saw him sleep. Given that Jazmin was in the hands of the Fireflies he doubted whatever sleep Warren did get was peaceful.

While Warren hadn't voiced any issues, Nico couldn't help but worry. Over the years they had worked together Nico had grown to consider him a friend. One he trusted implicitly.

Nico opened his mouth to say something, some words of comfort on the tip of his tongue. But no words escaped his lips, completely at a loss for what to say. Some many things were uncertain, and he knew no words could quell whatever worries Warren had.

The smell of wet soil wafted through the air the closer they got to the shore of Lake Chabot. Nico took in a deep breath, letting the pure air wash over him. Birds chattered in the distance before taking flight their wings spread wide as they glide across the sky.

For a moment Nico was transported back to what the world was before. Just a young teen with a hunting rifle and enough rations for a few days. Excited for the prospect of a good hunt even if it meant sitting through miserable weather. All that was missing was his father's terrible jokes.

Nico shook his head as if flinging the thoughts from his mind. Long gone were the days that hunting brought him joy. Having lost its allure the moment he felt what it was like to be prey. It didn't matter now, whether he enjoyed it or not, enjoyment was a luxury from the world before. There was no such thing as hunting for the sport when every killing was a part of survival.

A few boats scattered the murky shoreline, all of which had seen better days. Nico nodded at Warren's suggestion. It had been years since he had been fishing. He could only hope that Warren didn't want him to put on a pair of wader boots and get in the water.

Nico checked inside the vessels closest to him. He doubted the boats would hold anything of use. Likely having been picked over by other survivors in the years they lay abandoned. Still, he hoped to find something. His ammo was dangerously low and would be lower by the end of the day no matter the outcome of his and Warren's hunting expedition. And while Warren may have been physically capable of taking down a buck with his bare hands, Nico was certainly not.

It didn't take long for Warren to find some bait, tossing it over towards Nico's direction. Nico popped open the can, threading the bait and the line. Nodding along to Warren, Nico can't help but smile at the thought of eating rabbit, his father's voice droning in his head.
"You know even if we eat rabbit every night, we'll still starve to death?"
Nico says, relaying the same fact his father managed to tell every single time they went hunting.
"Should also check the shoreline for prints. Might lead us in the right direction."


































After Dark



Mr.Kitty










♡coded by uxie♡
 



taya.





































  • mood



    burnt out, tested
















" Hnn . . . "ㅤ" Hnn . . . "

The thuds of Taya's footfalls were monotonous; oppressive and lifeless in its rhythm, jogging all but purposeless (for how long, she has lost track). In the dawnlight, orders to patrol Berkeley rang in her head. After all of this, she was to walk—to follow her company as they bear witness to the conclusions of their work.

Yes, to follow. It was all she was good for; what she was meant for. Blind by will and covenant, she would have followed everything she was told. Her devotion was unyielding—all that she had, and all that she was; offered if it was what was asked of her. Two weeks ago, Taya would've still given them everything except for what few she now wanted to keep for herself, but maybe she was too naive.

She should've known the Fireflies would've gotten what they wanted with or without her.

This was not the first she has witnessed the falling of a QZ, but this . . .ㅤthis felt too new. The loss bled beyond what she could brush with the callus of her fingertips. The saccharine of victory, nauseating on her tongue. She spits, but the taste lingers.

When you're lost in the darkness, look for the light, they tell you. They never ask who is the one casting it.

FEDRA held that torch before them, and they scorched not just the earth, but everyone who came close. The Fireflies, for all of the justness in its cause, would be no better than them if they keep down this path. She can't be the only one who sees this. They are better—they need to be better.

A stray sweat droplet grazing the length of her lashes prompts a blink from the woman. Wiping her brow and her neck with a towel, she weighed her frustrations in the back of her mind as she finally made her way to receive the party. It was a five minute walk through McKinley to find them; a relatively uneventful wind-down with no Infected in sight which was a good sign. It meant that they (hopefully) won't be dealing with a packed horde like before.

Prior festivities had congregated Infected in various general areas. It took a number of excursions to properly thin the crowds, but regardless, it pays to be careful anyway. They needed to make sure the more downtown territories are still maintained, and perhaps most pressingly, show the new recruit how things are done.

Kaden was someone Taya hasn't had a proper read on yet, but she knew better than to predicate her judgment on rumors.

She'd finish drying off as she approached him and Svea, shooting her leader a quick nod to affirm that she's present for her briefing. The routes were indeed etched cleanly in her head, but it was important to listen anyway, if not to at least show the new Firefly that they were a team.

Truth be told, Taya had half a mind to respect Svea's authority right now for the role she played in everything that happened, moreover the decisions she made during the fact. She felt a dull throbbing from within her just thinking about it, but she was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt; as much of it as she can charitably provide at least.

The briefing was done efficiently, as expected. The Quimora had the anarchist within her peripherals for half of it, making note of his reactions. As the map came to his possession, Taya strode by, dipping her head to speak in a voice low enough for only the two of them to hear. "Don't worry 'bout the deadline. I got a spare if you need it."

Moving past both of her companions, Taya took a deep breath as she surveyed the cityside. No sign of anything moving, so they're either farther in or outside the vicinity entirely. Either way, it's likely they're going to have to reinstall the traps. "I'm thinkin' we should all group up this time." she mused, "Sweep Center, hit the usuals for supplies on our way up, then sweep Allston on our way back."

Taya turns to face the group with a blank expression, hands on her hips. "Then if we got time, maybe two or all three of us can peek the outskirts of the routes just in case." She'd rather get this over with as soon as possible while the guilt and resentment were still fresh, but it was better safe than sorry. Besides, there might be survivors.

The brown of her irises fix themselves onto the tactician. "What say you, captain?"

































PRIDE.



k. lamar










♡coded by uxie♡
 



carmen.





































  • mood



    hesitant
















No matter how deep-set the frown Katja wore towards Carmen was, the girl had a tendency to soften her brows whenever she did. The girl was nice enough & especially to her; when men were being men, Carmen had—over these past two weeks—grown a habit of exchanging empathetic glances with her. When she felt that familiar gaze upon her again, Carmen—from the spot of dirt she'd been burying her thoughts into—lifted her chin up, expectant of that shared glance once again. This time, though, she was met with eyes whose owner held a concurrence that she did not share.

Carmen's brows fell flat. The sight drew in a sharp breath from the woman, gaze darting back down to the ground as she collected herself. Finding faith in her answer, a deep expulsion of breath came from the brunette a second later with a shake of her head.

"No,"
came from her with the sigh. Looking towards Jean—a man who, if she looked for too long, bore too awfully a resemblance to a late brother of hers—Carmen could only meet him with a sudden expression of disbelief that dissipated just as quickly.
"Am out,"
she conceded.

A hand came up to run a hand through her hair as she went on:
"As much as"
—an appeasing chuckle in Katja's direction escaped her—
"that'd be nice, it's... ah... We could wait."


The weary could've taken her laughter as derisive. Her body's language, though, told an entirely different story. Her weight shifted away from the two. Insecure arms came up to cross about herself while a sternness settled into her features.

Her genuine dissent hadn't been one to grace this group yet. The nerve to even suggest a supply run when they were—one—on the run &—two—down to half their group, though... A keen eye might have caught the way her brows inched flatter & flatter further into her explanation.

Shoulders bouncing to match her inflection, she said,
"We're exhausted. Split. Today, it's..."
—her posture deflated—
"just not the day to be going out, okay?"
Hazel eyes darted between the other two in an attempt to gauge their expressions. Finding little conclusion, an amendment:
"Let's wait for the boys to come back. We'll eat. Sleep. Go together tomorrow, hm?"


































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 



aster.





































  • mood



    uncertain, needing caffeine
















Last night's memory lingered with Aster into the dawning hours of the new day: all the work he had been able to get through and everything he still had left to do. The pace of it was beginning to earnestly annoy him, even if he should be used to it by now.

But his knowledge of past technologies set an outline of wastefulness around each hour he labored, hunched over a microscope, painstakingly analyzing each sample with squinted eyes and a growing headache. It would have taken pre-Outbreak machines the same amount of time to work through dozens upon dozens of samples, potentially with better accuracy than his own two eyes and effortful attention.
Yet, it at least gave him something routine to do while everything around him was going through flux.

Though he hadn't left the lab last night, sleeping instead on a table near the back of the room when his eyes had started to blur, the activity of the camp had seeped in at dawn when he awoke, and it had ignited a flurry of echoing worries at the edge of his mind.
Safety was a constant concern, the ever-present demon plaguing humanity for seven long years, but Aster could only hope that he wasn't alone in feeling it more keenly after such a paradigm shift.

A part of him was inclined to be grateful for the new opportunities it presented, though; a chance to find the keystone for his research, something that would stop the cyclical nightmare his work had trapped him in for months now.
And so, he had managed to set those worries aside as he resumed his work, in favor of the sole distraction that often held a place in his mind: the desire for a strong cup of coffee. Though in truth, anything caffeinated would probably do at this point.

Perhaps it had been that thought which clouded the arrival of Danilo into the lab, causing him to startle slightly when the other man first spoke. Though he balked at the initial question, the clarification didn't ease his mind much either.
"Well, I suppose finding a cure would be the obvious goal."
He hesitated a moment, then looked up from the sample in front of him toward Danilo's rather distant form, wondering if that goal was actually so obvious.
"But if you're asking why I'm bothering to do this...I just know that doing nothing would accomplish nothing, so at least this research will give us a chance to stumble onto an answer,"
he gave a tired smile,
"even if it's a slim chance."
He turned his attention back to the microscope, twisting and adjusting the lens until he could see clearly again.

"Oh,"
the offer of help took him by surprise, but he wasn't going to waste the opportunity to involve Danilo, even if this part of the research process didn't quite lend itself to his style of genius.
"Well, I think I have the 'squinting into a microscope' part covered, but if you wouldn't mind, I do still need to label the samples I analyzed last night. Some of them are in that blue cooler by the wall, and the labels are, uh...in a drawer somewhere. If you wouldn't mind putting yesterday's date and 'cooler batch' on them, I would appreciate it."
He chewed his lip for a moment, staring down at the sample without really seeing it.

Finally, the buried hope in his chest pushed the words up his throat and out of his mouth.
"And if you happen to see any anomalies growing in any of the samples, please do bring them over."


































Dark Matter



Les Friction










♡coded by uxie♡
 



warren.





































  • mood



    tired, anxious
















"You know even if we eat rabbit every night, we'll still starve to death?" Nico spoke, "Should also check the shoreline for prints. Might lead us in the right direction."

Warren shook his head and smirked.
"Then I guess it's a good thing we still have a few cans of beans."


He sat down with the first pole, quiet as he strung the line. Bait probably wasn't the best. It would have to make due. Seven years into the end of the world, Warren learned not to be picky. Luxuries of the civilized world seemed laughable to him now. He pushed the thought aside and continued working. Once the lines were ready and secure, he stepped off the boat.

"Let's spread out and check the shoreline. Tracks or not, we head through the treeline in fifteen."


Warren slung his backpack over his shoulders and made his way down the opposite direction of the lake. His boots crunched the sand and rocks beneath his feet, leaving a damp trail behind him. The July sun tempted him into the waters. If he were here under different circumstances, Warren was sure he could spend hours here. Jazmín would love it.

He found the tracks they were looking for ten minutes into his trek. Warren crouched down to confirm they were hooves and sighed with relief. The tracks looked fresh enough. They might actually have a chance at finding something. He stood back up again to track Nico's position across the lake, whistling for the sniper's attention once he spotted him.

Once Nico reached him, Warren pointed.
"It's heading towards the trees. Probably stopped to rummage through the bushes. Shouldn't be too hard for you to track."
Warren wiped the sweat from his brow.
"We'll forage what we can along the way."


































gunslinger



avenged sevenfold










♡coded by uxie♡
 



jean.





































  • mood



    critical


















One yes.

One no.

Well, no, it was more of a ‘maybe later,’ but there was no certainty in later. Either the three make the most of their time, or sit around, twiddling their thumbs, wasting the clock as Warren and Nico return with dinner. Even if they did return, that still didn’t make up for the scarce supplies they had. As she sifted through her medical supplies, he noticed how Katja looked, the stone-faced determination not to show her growing worry. It was no surprise when she agreed, but neither was it a surprise when Carmen disagreed.

She believed in later. Tomorrow. The sun rising, another day filling your lungs with fresh air. Everything would turn out alright; all they had to do was sit and wait for good things to happen.

He was never the type to wait for his future.

“Carmen,”
Jean said while leaning against the wall, crossing his arms as if guarding his chest.
“I checked—we checked. There’s nothing to eat. Crumbs, if we’re lucky. All supplies are low, and I can’t count on the others having a successful return.”


“I’d rather not leave someone behind,"
he voiced with a severe tone,
“and I’m set on going. Katja is going. You are going. That’s final.”


A wave of regret went through Jean as he finished. He hadn’t meant to be so demanding, but he couldn’t allow himself to backtrack now. They needed to stick together, and he meant what he said. He wasn’t about to leave her behind, not after Warren put his trust in him.

“Plus,”
Jean continued, a sore attempt to lighten the mood,
“Katja does stink. So, it’s settled then. Gather your things; we leave in five.”


There was a house they'd passed on the way that looked, miraculously, mostly untouched. They'd start there, then work their way back to camp. He patted himself down, confirming he had everything he needed, and waited for the others to be ready, carefully avoiding eye contact with Carmen the entire time.

































quarentine zone



the last of us










♡coded by uxie♡
 



danilo.





































  • mood



    awkward, slowly relaxing
















”Well, I suppose finding a cure would be the obvious goal.”

A frown settled on Danilo’s face at the words, his expression hidden behind the back of his comrade while he kept glued to his work, eyes piercing down into the microscope as if waiting for the cure to simply just appear before him like magic. Of course the obvious answer was searching for a cure, but part of Danilo had hoped the answer would’ve been slightly different - perhaps at this point that much hope was a dangerous thing, unaffordable given their current situation and lack of supplies.

Of course, Aster’s next statement put him a little more at ease. Perhaps the scientist wasn’t living off of a deluded sense of hope, merely just using his talents in the off chance - the very slim, narrow chance - that something would come up; naivety, but guarded naivety. The least he could do for now would be to offer his assistance as well. It beat lying in his makeshift hammock all day staring at the herbs growing in his greenhouse waiting for them to sprout.

When given his instructions he wordlessly agreed, giving a light nod to the back of this scientist before strolling over to the drawers, shuffling through each one to find the labels in question and a sharpie that was surprisingly not past its prime. He doubted he’d find any anomalies but he had also been proven wrong before. After all, Aster seemed to doubt the contrary - the doubt of there being absolutely nothing for them to learn through whatever procedures he was putting himself through.

He glanced up at the scientist for a moment, amused as he refused to look away from his work while Danilo labeled the batches from the night before.
”I admire your kind of genius, really,”
he said aloud with an honest grin, scribbling words onto each of the labels as he set the samples to the side one by one.
”A belief in the unseen, finding new discoveries almost out of thin air. I never cared too much for it myself, it just isn’t the way my brain ticks… but I admire it.”
He held up one of the samples, eyeing an odd looking speck to examine whether it was truly something to be investigated or simply a piece of dust that had settled into the dish.

”I tend to discover new things hands on, building something new - I suppose I simply just create out of the things that already exist. It works well enough, I suppose.”
He offered a strained smile, trying his best to start some sort of conversation. He was never a people person, never - so trying to build up some sort of connection with someone seemed daunting, near impossible. He was just awkward.

Though perhaps there were other ways he could throw in his hat.
”You might want to take a second look at this one, just in case,”
he offered, sliding the sample with the speck of what was most likely dust across the table back to Aster.
”And maybe I could tinker around a bit with one of these microscopes and one of the building’s old projectors - could maybe get it projecting your samples up on the wall. Might save you some headaches and your eyesight all in one.”


































hellfire



barns courtney










♡coded by uxie♡
 



Nico.





































  • mood



    tired, weary

















Nico's boot sunk in the muddy shoreline, as he scanned for tracks. Small prints of rabbits and squirrels litter the ground. Hopefully, the traps would get something if the deer hunt failed to provide anything.

Crouching down to get a better look at one of the many impressions, Nico gathered it was a fox. If Warren comes up with nothing it may be worth a shot, but the tracks were old, at least a day, and Nico doubted he could properly track it.

A sharp whistle had him glance towards Warren's direction. Thank god, Nico thought. It was starting to look grim, and the last thing he wanted was another dinner consisting entirely of beans.

"It's heading towards the trees. Probably stopped to rummage through the bushes. Shouldn't be too hard for you to track. We'll forage what we can along the way," Warren said as Nico approached him.

Nico crouched, lowering his head to properly examine the print. Warren had found a good compression, it wasn't too old, maybe an hour or two at most.

"Judging by the size it's either a small doe or a yearling,"
Nico commented offhandly. He doubted it was very big, but it should have enough meat to feed the five of them.

Standing he moved to follow them, eyes scanning the ground and foliage. A few broken branches led him further into the woods. Pressed grass and broken brush painted the path.

"Doesn't look like they left in a hurry,"
he said over his shoulder.

A rustle came from his left, and he halted. Again, the leaves of the bush shifted. Nico looked to Warren before tipping his head in the direction of the sound. This wasn't the best spot, and Nico wasn't confident that he could hit the shot standing, but they didn't really have the time to set up a proper perch. So he would have to make due.

Raising his rifle he aimed towards the bush. His finger hovered over the trigger, a part of him antsy at the prospect of a proper meal. Or at least as proper of a meal as the circumstance would allow.

Instead of fur-lined ears and a pointed face, a humanoid shape emerged. An infected. From the looks of things, they haven't been infected long. Maybe a few days, judging by the pallor and state. It stumbled clumsily, twitching this way and that as it tried to find purpose.

At the corner of his eye, Nico saw it. Grazing unknowingly, a young deer stood just a few meters away. He looked towards Warren, a silent question on what to do. Shooting the infected would startle anything in the vicinity. Killing it with a silent weapon could spook the yearling. On the other hand, shooting the deer first would mean alerting the infected.

Now that they knew for sure there were infected in the woods. It raised the question of just how many. Besides this one was fresh, there could still be a group lingering nearby, and god knows "friendliness" is a hard thing to come by nowadays. Even if they do manage to take one of them down, they could very well be alerting every threat in the area.

Before Nico could finish his musing the infected took a step forward. Stumbling through the shrubbery loudly. The yearling perked up, ears moving in anxiety. Nico saw his moment slipping. If the deer got spooked, it would run for who knows how long, scaring everything else in its track.

Nico raised his rifle, aligning the sight as quickly as he could before taking the shot. The deer let out a cry but turned quickly running in the opposite direction, putting as much distance between it and its attackers.

"Fuck,"
Nico cursed, he hadn't killed it, but he hit it, at the very least, its blood would make a decent trail.

The infected jerked its head in Nico and Warren's direction, and out from the brush behind it another emerged.

































After Dark



Mr.Kitty










♡coded by uxie♡
 



svea.





































  • mood



    weary

















With a narrowing gaze and a grin that practically screamed "test me", Svea began to stride toward the Civic Center. "I say having a smart-ass mouth might get you into trouble."

With a heavy clunk, Svea deftly cocked the barrel of her handgun, ensuring it was ready for any emergency. Yet, she didn't keep it out; instead, she slid it back into the side strap of her right thigh. A backup, just in case anything happened; it did have a suppressor, after all. However, bullets were becoming scarcer, and she saw no use in using them if it wasn't absolutely necessary.

What she did keep out, though, was her machete. Giving it a few expert spins in her hand, testing her motion as she led the two towards their first destination. As they drew closer to the establishment, Svea crouched down behind the tipped-over cars, using them as cover. After scanning the area in front of her, she beckoned the others to follow.

The civic building, though typically quiet and peaceful, could occasionally find itself thrust into chaotic activity that bordered on an overrun. If today happened to be one of those occasions, it promised to be a tedious sweep, requiring multiple rounds to fully reclaim control. Compounded by the recent commotion from the fall of the QZ, Svea could only pray today would be a smooth run. But who knew what the range of those damned monsters' hearing was. Frustrated at the thought, Svea cursed under her breath as they inched their way closer to the main door.

The journey had been remarkably peaceful up to this point, almost unnervingly so. Svea couldn't shake the worry that the duo accompanying her might be slipping in their attentiveness. The newcomer, in particular, had a less-than-stellar reputation for being a good listener, in more ways than one. Just as Svea was about to open her mouth to remind them to stay alert, a sharp sound pierced the silence.

A distinct impact resonated from the vicinity of the reception desk not too far away. It wasn't the casual noise of a careless living being; it had the unmistakable cadence of a runner with its erratic footsteps. No human would be dumb enough to make noise unnecessarily. Not one that survived this long into the apocolyse anyway.

Svea's stern gaze met Taya's, a nod of understanding passing between them. Without a word, Svea crouched her way behind the runner. The floor was cluttered, a mess to navigate quietly, but she and Taya had done this run countless times. Despite any personal differences, their efficiency as a team was undeniable. The unspoken understanding they shared cut through any unnecessary frills, allowing them to handle the situation with a direct and practiced approach. Svea maneuvered directly behind the undead, signaling Taya with a nod to proceed.

































survive



audioarmoury










♡coded by uxie♡
 



aster.





































  • mood



    conflicted, curious
















Paranoia stood to the side, waiting for him to decide that he had been as thorough as possible before sinking its teeth into him, trying to make the argument that he might have missed something.
Human error.
How it haunted him.

Nevertheless, he mustered through, reaching for another sample as he set the previous one aside, into the growing stack of blood samples he had already poured over. There seemed to be a chance that he would get through the remainder of the samples today, and that thought was both relieving and a disappointment. Though he was deeply familiar with the limitations of their resources, his inability to get samples from all the camp's newest admissions had left him to contend with the possibility that the keystone he was looking for would live and die under his nose without him ever knowing.

Aster couldn't help the chuckle that broke from him when Danilo offered an impromptu compliment.
"Genuis is a strong word. I'm not sure my track record quite qualifies me for that."

He hoped it didn't sound bitter, but that thought had often lingered on his mind whenever sleep eluded him.
Did intelligence really mean anything in the world they were in now?
There was intelligence, to be sure, in Danilo's innovations, in their medical personnel, in the strategies of their defenders and scavengers, but when it was abstract, as many of his own duties tended to be...how could that be justified as anything but a waste?

He was forced to rely on the future to provide the justification for his work, and that thought didn't have any comfort to offer him.

"Well, I'm not immune to the uncertainty in what I do. It's just an unfortunate byproduct of trying to discover something new, I suppose."
He adjusted the lens beneath his gaze impatiently, but dividing his attention between the microscope and their conversation had managed to ease his headache somewhat.
"Anyway, I have a similar admiration for your work. The flexibility and creativity required to do what you've done, especially with such limited resources..."
He shrugged, mostly to himself, then glanced over to Danilo and caught his smile, met his gaze rather accidentally.
"It's incredibly valuable in these times. I'm glad you came to Oakland."


He looked back to his work before he could become embarrassed by own sincerity, but that lasted only briefly as Danilo drew his interest once more.

"I'll take another look then."
He put some effort into being nonchalant about it, but there was a clear eagerness to his movements as he traded out the sample beneath the microscope for the one Danilo had slid over.
Even though he tried to temper his excitement, he was absorbed by it so immediately that Danilo's ensuing offer barely registered in his mind.
"Mhmm, feel free to tinker with whatever you'd like. I expect most of the equipment in storage will need maintenance by now though."
Somewhere under his preoccupation, the thoughtfulness in the offer nudged at a different type of hope.


































Dark Matter



Les Friction










♡coded by uxie♡
 



warren.





































  • mood



    tired, anxious
















"Judging by the size it's either a small doe or a yearling." With no reason to disagree, Warren nodded. He followed Nico into the woods and let the sniper do his work. "Doesn't look like they left in a hurry."

The alpha perked up.
"Good, we might have a chance then."


He stilled as a rustle came from the left, careful not to disturb the doe or Nico's concentration. Warren had every confidence in his shot. Rather than the prey they were hunting after, however, an Infected emerged from the bushes. He silently cursed at their luck. Warren met Nico's questioning gaze and the alpha firmly raised his chin in the direction of the doe that revealed itself just seconds later. He could handle the Infected and keep it out of Nico's range.

The sniper took his shot. It was alarming how comforting the sound of a gun firing had become. Warren didn't have time to look, but he could hear hooves in the distance. Injured, probably. He unsheathed his hunting knife and braced himself as the Runner came rushing forward.

"Save your bullets, and go after the deer!"
Warren ordered as he swiftly kicked the first Runner in the chest to send it stumbling back into a tree.

He held the second Runner at bay with his forearm pinned against its neck as it snarled and snapped its jaw in Warren's direction. The alpha grunted from the force of it before digging his right boot into the dirt and throwing his strength into pushing it back. He was quick to swing his left arm, blade sliding into the Runner's skull with ease. Warren removed the knife just as quickly and kicked the Infected's kneecap, forcing it to the ground. The original Runner rushed him as he stomped the heel of the boot into its head.

Warren narrowly avoided the other Runner's lunge in time, causing him to momentarily lose his footing. He recovered well enough to lunge low and trip the Runner as it came swinging back again. He stomped onto the Runner's spine and brought down his knife to pierce the back of its skull. Warren splattered what remained of its brain for good measure.

The alpha wiped the gunk from his knife and sheathed it. He took a few steps and leaned against a tree to recover his breath. His adrenaline had easily made up for his exhaustion, but Warren knew he would feel it again soon enough. Warren pushed away from the tree a few seconds later and followed after Nico's footsteps. He was almost certain no Infected followed after him, but it was better to hurry just in case. The sniper's footsteps soon merged with a trail of blood. As he suspected earlier, the doe was injured.

Warren picked up his pace when a gunshot echoed throughout the forest. Thankfully, it was only Nico bringing the deer's suffering to an end.

"Nico! You good?"
He questioned.
"Nice shot. I've got rope in my bag. I'll carry it."


































gunslinger



avenged sevenfold










♡coded by uxie♡
 



carmen.





































  • mood



    listless
















In five, they did.

With little rebuttal from the brunette, the group of three would be on their way. They'd find path down a street so unassuming that Carmen nearly doubted her earlier apprehension. It was one that branched off the main street they'd earlier found temporary respite by. Grey & oranged, flat-topped houses, each inch-blanketed in a combination of overgrowth, debris, & general rot, lined their path at either side. To look ahead was a single point perspective of what once might've been a quaint neighborhood with kids biking in the street; behind was to gaze back upon where the street curved & gave view over a vast stretch of dry brush just below the neighborhood's hills.

Carmen let distant mountains captivate her attention as she trailed close behind the other two's footsteps. Her arms were kept close & tight about herself, shoulders raised just about near her ears as her mind dwelled on the day's earlier conversation. Back home at the QZ, to be told what to do was a matter of when & how—there was no argument. Out here, though her back bristled with unease in traversing beyond walls she once knew to protect, there was a freedom she didn't know she had long missed. To find herself so easily again ordered humbled.

The gaze Jean pointed everywhere but in Carmen's direction did not go unnoticed. Shame—regret? The thought of this made Carmen doubt the severity with which he'd spoken with. Her earlier frustration subsided both in finding little fault to hold onto & in finally walking into the driveway of the house Jean had meant.

It was in a better shape than its neighbors; that was—with a second floor that didn't threaten collapse by the act of merely laying one's eyes upon it. In finally having a moment to idle, Carmen shook her shoulders out & gave sigh. The second step she made toward the front door came with an under-breath expletive in finding herself having stepped on a jagged pebble.

"God damn it,"
came hushed from Carmen as she took a moment to raise & hold the offended foot; it wore a low-top with sole so thin that to pick the pebble off was to be met with its outline in her shoe thereafter. A deep sigh led the trio into the house's front entrance.

Stepping in, its initial impression was lackluster. Though wide windows beside the front door gave view of an expansive kitchen with a six-seat dining table, the front door opened inwards toward a greyed mudroom with long forgotten umbrellas or boots, hallway, & finally a living room whose TV had long collapsed forwards just before the coffee table.

Carmen, as the group had quickly come to expect, would quickly find the sofa set's matching armchair. When she plopped herself down, the chair's upholstery crackled & settled in having its first user in at least a couple years since things went upside down. With her elbows making full use of the chair's arm rests, she took a moment to catch her breath & speak, tone hushed from the sense of not yet having scoped the entire house out,
"Didn't see anything on the way in, but I'll check the kitchen in a moment. Think there was a bathroom back down that hall"
—she pointed towards the mudroom—
"if one of you want to check. Always something in there, if we're not too late."


& she'd rest there for a moment before sitting herself up with some momentum. With a heavy neck, her glance around the living room was met with children's sports trophies, DVD collections, & cracked picture frames lining the room's baseboards. Toppled vases & pots too made the floor something of lava in an attempt to avoid chipped earth & glass. With careful steps, Carmen would soon make her way over to the open kitchen where a few packets of granulated sugar still sat in a little container beside a long forgotten coffeemaker. She'd pocket what she could see, but quickly learned futility after the third clean drawer she'd jiggle open.

































san lucas



kevin kaarl










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



Nico.





































  • mood



    tired, weary

















"Save your bullets, and go after the deer!" Warren's directive hung in the air, briefly giving Nico pause. While he had full confidence in his leader's abilities, the guilt of abandoning him lingered. Sensing the urgency, Nico nodded stiffly, shouldering his oversized rifle. The impracticality of the weapon for close encounters was evident, and though he would have preferred his pistol, its limited ammo forced him to make do.

Pushing through the train and veering off the beaten trail, Nico drew his hunting knife from his belt. Though not the ideal weapon for potential confrontations with multiple infected, it was better than nothing. Nonetheless, Nico swallowed with a somber expression. While he possessed a decent stature, his strength resided more in the precision of a firearm than in physical prowess.

Shaking his head to rid himself of unwanted thoughts. Nico focused on the trail in front of him. Droplets of blood and snapped branches created a discernible path. Every few steps, the crimson liquid seemed to expand, evidence that the deer was bleeding out. Nico only hoped that he would get to the deer before any other scavengers.

The deer lay in a small bush—most likely having crumpled under the weight of its own agony—it's breathing labored and pained. Nico's hand brushed over the gunshot wound, silently cursing himself for his sloppy work. Regardless of the sucess of downing the deer, Nico knew he could do better. Setting down his hunting knife, he fumbled to bring his pistol out. Raising it to the deer's head, he fired, allowing its misery to end.

"Nico! You good?"

Nico nods while turning towards Warren.

"Nice shot. I've got rope in my bag. I'll carry it."

Nico stands, brushing off his hands on his pants and stepping away from the deer.
"Could have been better, ended up wasting another bullet for no reason."
He slids the clip of his pistol out only to frown at the singluar bullet left.
"While our food situation is solved for now. I can't say we'll make it much longer with our current arsenal."


Warren sighed. "I know." He paused to tie his last knot and looked over at him. "We'll scavenge what we can, but it won't be much. I've got an idea on how to deal with the Fireflies without going in guns blazing, but I'll need to run it by everyone first."

"I trust you. Whatever your plan is I'm with you,"



































After Dark



Mr.Kitty










♡coded by uxie♡
 



danilo.





































  • mood



    ouch
















A small smile pulled across Danilo’s lips as Aster reached for the sample with a bit of eagerness in step, but it was weak and faded as quickly as it had appeared. He wasn’t quite sure if it was better to be the fearful optimistic or the jaded realist between the two of them, but he had already planted his ideologies ages ago shortly after the outbreak had started and consumed everything. Aster’s own response to his request to tinker around with some of the microscopes almost fell on deaf ears as his mind began to flood with thoughts. It was the thinker in him, always seeking for some sort of connection or relation to everything he’s experienced and drawing conclusions on the things he hadn’t.

“You know we’re not far off from these things, these… infected.”
It pained him to say the words knowing that every single one of those monsters roaming the streets used to be just like them and, in the blink of an eye, they could join their ranks. It was a morbid thought but it’s what kept them awake at night - what kept them working long hours to build up walls and secure their doors.
”I mean, we’re not ridden with a fungus and we’re not growing spores, but we still attack each other. We consume the world around us - its resources, its creatures, its safety, its peace of mind. We’re just a different kind of parasite.”
He paused, feeling the air grow tense as he stepped over to the window to look down at the newly claimed base they had acquired after taking out FEDRA. Were they all that different from the infected if they were attacking living, breathing humans as well? It wasn’t really his place to question it, he supposed - he was just trying to survive.

”I mean, if only it were as simple as reaching into someone’s brain and plucking out the infection in the part of the brain that makes us… us. The part that makes us have emotions, regret - a soul.”
He almost scoffed at the last part but held himself together, having long been devoid of any religious devotion. He let the words sit for a moment before he left the window, heading across the room to one of the small storage closets where he started pulling out a couple of the boxes, unsheathing the old microscopes covered with black fabric coverings and the old projects coated with layers of dust.

”Sorry, not to be morbid - my mind just tends to run rampant,”
he started up again, dropping one of the boxes on the empty table to start rummaging through it for whatever materials he could find.
”So… other than a potential for a cure, what made you join the Fireflies? Just curious since we’ve all got our own sto- MERDA!”
He cut his words short as he hissed through his teeth, jerking his hand from the box and away from the broken projector bulb that had left a decent sized cut across his palm. His heart started racing causing it to flutter, feeling a little sick as he rummaged through his things for some bandages to wrap around his hand.

































hellfire



barns courtney










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



taya.





































  • mood



    burnt out, tested
















It was hilariously easy to fall into monotony in the apocalypse. There was only so much you can do without costing you your life, and even then, a big chunk of the shit that's left are all somehow related to survival. So in the end, you really just end up doing different variations of the same thing.

There was a lot of fucking walking, for one. A ton of stopping, and looking too. Hell, even being cautious in anticipation of an attack starts becoming tedious. The neverending tension grows dull. The danger, boring.

It was static noise, for lack of a better term; one that Taya was more than happy to languish in if it meant it would drown out the cacophony that laid rancorous in the back of her head. She had thought it through over countless laps prior, and she knew she'd mull it over again once they were home, but right now, she was content with running on autopilot.

"Don't hate madame 'ere too much." She smiles, speaking low for just her and the recruit to hear, a brow gestured towards Svea. "She's a hardass, but her heart's in the right place."

It was partly a reminder for herself; reassurance to ease the doubts gnawing at her. When her view swaps the newcomer for the tactician's back, she sees nothing but trampled bodies, and the smell of casualties burning in a pyre. But standing through the smoke, her reassured posture, and her readied arms; the same sight she's seen time and time again that has saved lives, including her's.

Taya found her fingertips tracing the stitches of her shotgun strap as they clutch the leather to readjust the gun cradled on the curves of her shoulderblades. There has to be a reason why until now, she can see past the massacre. She wonders if the new guy can see past too.

The woman filled the silence throughout their trek by filling in the new Firefly with how things worked, for better or worse. Usual rotations and protocols, how finds are split, extraneous questions—relevant or otherwise, Taya was more than happy to acquaint the newbie with what was to become their new normal.

Her voice dwindled in volume, and her responses grew sparser the closer they came to the center. Taya felt something; an inkling that disturbed her that Svea must have shared too because she spied the blonde swivel with an opening mouth that already betrayed what she was going to bark-

Thnk . . . thud . . thud . . . .

Not a word passes between the two. Only eye contact, and a meaningful nod. As Svea moves in, Taya signs for their third to stay and look out before she prowls forward. Her footfalls, quiet for her size, were agile as she positions herself at an angle from the stray runner, minding where its eyes were. Her own pair flits between her target, and her partner already right behind it.

The split-second she sees the leader's signal, she lurches forward, powerful calves propelling the woman from a crouch to a terrifying sprint's start. Her first step cracked like a whip, echoing across the empty interior's acoustics—an intentional decision as the dead man's awkward stirring stiffens in alert, jutting its head towards the stomp's source; away from Svea.

She bound the distance between them in two more strides all done at a frantic pace, a tick only passing before a right hook collides with the decaying skin of the infected's jaw, Taya using her momentum to carry her fist's arc further. A sickening crack punctuated the impact, the infected effectively disoriented and robbed of its bite as she loops her bicep around its neck in a rear naked choke.

Locked in place as the runner begins to scramble, Taya shoots Svea a look to finish the job.

































sifu ost 5



howie lee










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



svea.





































  • mood



    why me

















Power—a rush, an unexplainable surge of thirst. For Svea, it wasn't a privilege; it was a shackle, an inescapable burden she carried. If not her, then who? The weight of leadership, the authority to command, and the capability to destroy. Svea slid the blade of her weapon across the infected's neck, the gurgling screams coming to an abrupt end. With a heavy sigh, she flicked her blade to the side, shedding the blood that coated her machete. The power to end a life or to save one—what a joke.

A few glances around the area were enough to convince Svea that the coast was clear. Most infected weren't particularly skilled at hiding—most. With practiced ease, she slipped her weapon back into the side holster, freeing both hands. It was time to scavenge for supplies and she was ready to split the group up.

"I'll take the right. Taya, the left. And newbie... just stay alive."

The area was quiet, interrupted only by the sound of Svea kicking around broken tiles or stepping onto the soggy carpet. Nature, doing what it did best, was reclaiming what humanity had borrowed. The greenery that emerged between the fractured tiles carried the scent of mildew and rain. Near the windows, a lone flower sprouted, its delicate presence almost captivating enough to make Svea momentarily forget what had initiated this process of recovery.

Amidst venturing into the meeting rooms, Svea eventually found herself in one of the smaller ones. A blade knife was firmly lodged into the skull of a skeleton, its form half decayed and clad in a military uniform that prompted her to raise an eyebrow. Not Fedra, but military gear vests. The question lingered—what led a group this prepared to meet their demise here? The unsettling thought sent a chill down her spine, and she tried to push it to the recesses of her mind.

Instead, Svea focused on the practicality of the moment, reaching to pull out the knife. Smaller than her machete, it was ultimately less useful, but something was better than nothing in a world where survival hinged on the smallest advantages.

Placing the small knife in her back pocket, Svea nodded and continued her exploration. The subsequent rooms offered nothing of note; they were empty, devoid of any significant findings. The only anomaly was the discovery of a few more bodies adorned in military gear—fully equipped, yet lifeless. The oddness of the scene unsettled her, leaving a lingering sense of unease as she pressed on through the abandoned spaces.

Eventually, Svea found herself in what she assumed was the pantry, or at least the lunch quarters of the building. The tables were flipped over, chairs lay half-broken. It was evident that people had frantically run in and out of the area, scavenging for food as quickly as possible. The stark contrast to the more well-kept state she remembered from a previous run raised questions about what had transpired in the intervening time.

Curious but cautious, she opened every cupboard and cabinet, searching for anything hidden. Nothing caught her eye until she peered into the oven, where a rag and a bottle of rubbing alcohol lay. Whoever had been here last attempted to conceal it, presumably assuming that people would check the shelving and overlook the oven. But they never returned.

Svea furrowed her brows as she stowed the supplies into her bag. Discovering bodies and supplies at the civic building wasn't uncommon, but it always raised a multitude of questions.

Lost in her thoughts, Svea was abruptly jolted back to reality by the chilling grip of cold hands on her shoulders. A moment of contemplation morphed into a life-and-death struggle as a creature with its mouth half-hung open lunged at her through the air. Its teeth were coated in dried blood, an eye consumed by the cordyceps infection, and dehydrated skin sinking into its own bones.

Svea had never encountered a stalker up this close. Normally hidden, these creatures were usually at a distance, easily dispatched with a well-placed bullet. However, her sweep hadn't been up to its usual standard. Entranced by the scattered soldiers throughout the building, she failed to notice the stealthy presence lurking nearby. This unseen danger must have been what took down the soldiers as well.

In her usual calm demeanor, she didn't succumb to panic. Life-threatening situations were familiar territory for Svea. She grabbed the monster by its shoulders, ensuring some space between her and its gnashing teeth, but this left her with no hands free. All she could do was scream for someone she knew she could trust.

"Taya!"

































survive



audioarmoury










♡coded by uxie♡
 



aster.





































  • mood



    even more conflicted
















Aster was consumed by the object under his vision only briefly, recognizing the limits of his ability to draw any conclusions from such a miniscule anomaly.
When he tuned back into Danilo's words, the air became heavy in his chest and his eyes shifted to a middle-distance, unfocused.
He waited for Danilo to finish voicing his thoughts, but then the silence lingered on and he still didn't know what to say.

Finally, his eyes focused on Danilo's figure as he crossed the room, and the words poured out.
"Perhaps the infected are what were look like without that soul. Perhaps you're right and we're just constantly fighting and losing against an urge that is..."
...fundamentally human - but he found that the final words wouldn't come, their implication too grim.
He wouldn't have expected that reluctance within himself, since he was hardly ignorant of the flaws in humanity, but still...
Danilo's musings were almost kinder, to say that there might be a particular spot, a specific neural connection that created hate and violence, even if they couldn't find it to stop its effects.

"I don't know,"
he told himself quietly.
"The reasons humans do what they do have always eluded us, when it gets right down to it. Even the good things we do, science and philosophy combined still can't pin down the why."

His gaze dropped down to the Petri dish still cupped carefully in his hand, and he was compelled to think of his parents for the first time in...too long.

He had tried to honor their altruism and spirit of adventure with the path he chose, the type of work he pursued: but now he had to wonder what they would have done, if they had lived to see the apocalypse.
Would they be doing this type of work, too? After all, this research was supposed to help people, eventually.
Or would they have found a different way to help people in all this? A way that could save humans from themselves, as much as anything else. If it was even possible.

His reverie broke with Danilo's sudden curse, and the blood stood out almost immediately when he glanced up.
"Here, there's a medkit in the drawer to your left,"
he offered, moving quickly to lend an extra hand.
"If you must know, this would be the main reason I chose the abstract sciences,"
he said, almost teasingly, fighting back toward levity.
It fell flat on his own ears, though, and it was with a somber expression that he stood beside Danilo, ignored the blood that stained his finger as he tried to help staunch the wound.

































Dark Matter



Les Friction










♡coded by uxie♡
 



taya.





































  • mood



    alarmed, solemn
















Svea's precision was blinding. Taya never could quite get used to the sight of it; the tactician's dominant arm braced, meticulous in the viciousness of its calculated arc. Her machete would have cleaved clean through her forearm were it not for the familiarity of the motion of her shoulder and the stance of her legs. It was only through the time they spent working together she had etched these habits to heart, and even then if she wasn't careful, she would've found herself on the receiving end of a maiming.

Perhaps this was how deep their trust went—unflinching, blind faith that they have each other's backs when it mattered most. Thinking about it only made Taya's mouth taste bitter now.

Split-second before her commander's aim became true, Taya loosened her chokehold, gripping the infected's head to force it upward, exposing its neck. The moment its throat met air, Svea's steel kissed skin. Dark blood babbled from the slice as the Filipina let their target go, leaving it to crumple and gurgle onto the floor. Another clean dispatching.

Taya instinctively stretched her fingers, clenching and relaxing them as she felt the air ease out prior tensions. Her eyes didn't meet Svea's but her instructions were received with a nod. "Keep an eye out just in case." the pacifist regarded the recruit with a soft tap to their chest with the side of her fist. "We'll come signal you when we wrap up here."

The adrenaline hadn't quite left her body even in the relative peace of her scavenging. Her gut felt coiled—ever so slowly winding inward, stretching the fiber of her muscles into a point that nested in her core. What she did earlier, in another time, would've been nothing, but this felt different; too close for comfort.

The woman furrowed her brow instead, crouching low to check for anything to grab under the conference room's desk. It was split in half, fragments of glass and wood mixed with rubble and debris from a gaping maw on the conference room wall.

Sunlight bled from cracks that skittered across the aperture, accompanied by tendrils of green that had found its way to populate the space from the outside in. Fungi, and flora even came to grow on the musty cushions of chairs, either shattered, or strewn about the interior in disarray. Must've been blown over by an explosion. A tank?

A blade. Her calluses felt rust but ultimately, it looked to be in at least a usable state. She would go about her scavenging this way, finding a roll of duct tape amidst the mess of the filing area. She absentmindedly thumbed for the binding's edge out of habit as she continued to search past piles of paper when her ear caught the unmistakable voice of her captain calling her name. "Svea." she breathed.

Without hesitation, she absconded the room, legs immediately carrying Taya to where she last heard Svea's yell. Unbreaking in her pace, vision snapped to the vicinities to check for other sources of concern. If Svea could handle it, she would've handled it on her own. The situation must've been severe enough for her to ask for the Filipina's assistance, and sure enough it did.

Wordlessly, she whipped her shotgun, slotting the length of the gun right onto the stalker's larynx before roughly jamming it tight. Teeth clenched, she pried the infected off of her captain, pressing its back close to her. A few urgent steps back allowed Taya enough distance to swing the disconcerted monster onto a cubicle, its body lifted off the ground before slamming into a desk.

Her muscles burnt alive, leaving her grip on the shotgun in favor of a stronger hold on the back of the stalker's skull, feeling her digits slowly sink into its fetid head with the force of her exertion. Her body weight securing her victim in place, she slammed the exposed region of the stalker's head into any surface it could find. Again, and again, and again.

It was only when its last remaining human features were unrecognizable that she had stopped her bludgeoning. She took a deep breath, facing away from the remains before walking back to Svea without so much as a glance back. "You're losing your touch, ma'am." she teased dryly as she met with her damsel in distress, hands on her hips as if proud of a job well done.

"Luckily, that's the only thing you lost. Not a lot of goodies to get 'ere. We may as well head back." Taya commented, scanning the area for their third who apparently missed all the fun. "Speakin' of lost, where's the new..."

Voice trailing off, quiet befell the two Fireflies as they found their rookie in the distance, barely moving from where it lain on its pool of blood. A casualty.


































sifu ost 6



howie lee










♡coded by uxie♡
 
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salvation

act 1, scene 2




scroll





10:00 - 26 JULY 2020
SAN FRANCISCO BAY AREA

As they approach UC Berkeley, FEDRA has made their first move. In an attempt to garner sympathy and entry into the Fireflies base, THE CIVILIAN has taken one for the team. With an expert hand, THE MEDIC inflicted a non-lethal wound to their abdomen that a med kit alone simply cannot fix without risk of infection. THE CIVILIAN and THE MEDIC are left at a safe location just outside of the Fireflies' patrol line while THE ALPHA and THE SNIPER seek out help.

They come across THE PACIFIST and THE MACGYVER on patrol. They claim to be civilians from Southern California, traveling north in hopes of better chances at survival. They sought the Fireflies out upon hearing rumors about them in San Jose. They had been traveling for weeks before THE CIVILIAN was injured during a run-in with aggressive survivors and couple of Infected. As the veteran Firefly, THE PACIFIST agrees to offer aid. They tentatively believe in their claims to be civilians. THE MACGYVER is instructed to bring THE ALPHA and THE TRANSFER back to base to be questioned by THE TACTICIAN.

GROUP 1: THE ALPHA, THE SNIPER, THE MACGYVER, THE TACTICIAN
FIREFLIES BASE, UC BEREKELY
THE ALPHA and THE SNIPER are stripped of their weapons and left in a holding cell until it's time for them to be questioned. THE MACGYVER brings THE TACTICIAN up to speed and follows their lead moving forward.

GROUP 2: THE PACIFIST, THE SCIENTIST, THE MEDIC, THE CIVILIAN
FIREFLIES BASE, UC BEREKELY
THE PACIFIST gathers a small group of Fireflies to seek out THE MEDIC and THE CIVILIAN. They are brought back to the Fireflies base and into a quarantine room for the THE SCIENTIST to rule out any signs of infection before treating the wound.






♡coded by uxie♡
 
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warren.
































"Stay together, no matter what. We can't afford to be separated more than we already will be."
The alpha thumbed at the center of his chest, taking a slow and deliberate breath.
"If no one shows up in the next six hours, take Carmen and go,"
he continued, giving the medic a pointed look before turning to Nico.
"Let's go, we'll walk halfway and jog the rest."


By the time they reached the Fireflies, Warren and Nico were drenched in sweat with looks of urgency and alarm on their faces. Under the California sun, they pleaded their case. A member of their group was hurt during a run-in with Runners and hostile survivors, they were able to patch her up but could not be certain they could avoid infection. They had been traveling north from San Diego for weeks, after hearing about the Fireflies in San Jose they decided to seek them out. Join the cause, find a cure, and save the world. They didn't want to risk the journey with their friend injured, so they split up.

Warren played the part of a desperate civilian to the best of his ability, but there were moments when he wasn't sure the Fireflies were buying it. The woman they came across, nearly as tall and intimidating as Warren himself, tentatively agreed to help them. He made sure to look relieved.

He and Nico relinquished their weapons, handing them over to a man named Danilo. He was not nearly as intimidating as the woman was. Warren decided to use that to his advantage as they followed him into the Firefly base.

"This campus looks huge. Must have a lot of people to keep it safe and running."
Warren whistled and looked around.
"Not to be rude, but you don't look like the rebel soldier type like she did. They got civilian positions here, too? I'm built for the hard work, but Nico here is a big softie. Better off gardening or taking care of some kids."
He grinned at Nico and added,
"Ain't that right, Nico?"


































gunslinger



avenged sevenfold










♡coded by uxie♡
 
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