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Realistic or Modern THE MUNDANE - IC

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t i m e l i n e
major headlines from 06/02/17 — 12/24/17

Prom Sweetheart Miranda Shifflett Found Dead at Midwood High; Police Baffled 06/02/17


Deadly Virus Surfaces in Brooklyn, Attributed to Shifflett Girl's Death 06/05/17


'Barracuda Virus' Death Toll Reaches Double-digits, Hosptials Cracking Down on Fatal Illness 06/09/17


Fatal Virus Takes Its 23rd Life; Support Group for Mourning Families Established 06/11/17


Panicked Parents Withdraw Children From School 06/12/17


Schools Closed as Spread of the Barracuda Virus Continues to Grow 06/13/17


Residents Scared for Their Lives Begin to Leave the Country 06/16/17


Emergency Quarantine Wards Erected in Local Hospitals, Staff Under Pressure 06/19/17


Quarantine Wards Packed, 'Quarantine Zone' Tents Being Put Up Across the City 06/22/17


"We Are Researching a Cure", Says CDC Representative 06/25/17


50th Life Taken by Barracuda Virus; Research Barely Making Progress 06/26/17


Barracuda Virus Begins to Spread Rapidly; 20 Die in One Week 07/03/17


Independence Day Celebrations Cancelled, Patriot Groups in Protest 07/04/17


Meet the Brave Citizens Keeping Their Stores Open Amidst the Virus 07/11/17


Death Toll Reaches 150 Mark as the City Is Plagued With Despair 07/17/17


Government Issues Out Face Masks and Hand Sanitizer, Stresses Importance of Hygiene 07/24/17


240 Deaths and Counting, CDC Astounded by Exponential Spread of the Virus 08/02/17


1 Month Survivor of the Barracuda Virus Identified - Could There Be an Immunity Gene? 08/17/17


375 Lives Lost as People Lose Hope for the Future 08/19/17


'The Barracuda Survivor' Dies in Freak Accident 09/03/17


CDC Faces Backlash for Having Made Very Little Progress on Cure Research 09/28/17


Remembering the Significant Figures Lost to the Barracuda Virus 09/28/17


"We're People, Not Statistics on a Graph", Says Man on His Death Bed 10/05/17


Two Weeks Without a Trace of the Barracuda Virus - Could It Finally Be Over? 10/19/17


Stores Across Brooklyn Slowly Resume Regular Schedules 10/26/17


City Declared 'Safe From the Barracuda Virus' After Having Lost 432 Lives 11/09/17


Schools to Reopen January 2nd; Summer Break Shortened and Extra Holidays Removed 11/10/17





p r o l o g u e
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d a w n
THE SOUND OF RUGGED, BREATHY SNORES filled the silent, nearly dark bedroom. The source of the snores, a young woman, lay fast asleep in a crumpled heap on her queen-sized mattress, her mouth slightly open and a trail of drool running down her cheek and onto her pillow. There was a gentle snuffling of air through her nose, but gradually, as she rose from her nightmare and awareness grabbed hold of the consciousness, it became a wheezing and whining sound interspersed with violent trembling of her body. With a dropped jaw, buggy eyes, and sweaty palms, the young woman’s hot, salty head popped up from the warm pillow in a heart-pounding state of emergency. After a split second of massively intense panic, it suddenly dawned on her that she was still in her small, apartment bedroom.


The only source of light came from the flat screen television that was mounted on her wall. She could see that the ten o'clock news was on, but struggled to read the alerts without her glasses. Rather than patting around for them, however, she simply grabbed the remote and turned the volume up, only mildly curious as to what Sharon Stanfield had to say.

“The state of New York is being hit with one of the worst sicknesses it has seen in years, with each borough reporting widespread illness, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention — four times as many as this time last year.” Sharon said as she stood in front of the doors of the local hospital. ”The Barracuda Virus is rapidly spreading, and experts warn that teenagers and young adults are particularly vulnerable.”


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t w i l i g h t
She lay sprawled across her mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her skin was as white as a sand dollar bleached by the sun and covered with cold sweat. Her stomach was completely empty, its contents having previously been vomited out onto the pristine white carpet next to her bed. Her body ached all over; it had gotten so bad that instead of getting out of bed to use the bathroom, she'd relieved herself in that very spot. She didn’t want to believe that her time had finally come; after living only twenty-five short years of life, there was no way in Hell that she was ready to meet her maker. After all, she'd just landed the woman and career of her dreams. She was going to fight to the very end.


On the television, Sharon Stanfield of the Channel 12 news stood, yet again, in front of the hospital doors. The young woman could only catch bits of what the woman was reporting as she faded in and out of consciousness. “Schools closed… one hundred fifty deaths and counting... CDC astounded by exponential spread…” In swift motions, she grabbed the remote and pressed the power button, not wanting to hear anything more about The Barracuda Virus.

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d u s k
“Hey sweet cheeks, get ready for the best damn chicken noodle soup of your li—”


A limp hand hung over the side of the memory foam, fingers outstretched and palm raised to the sky. A noise caught in the back of her throat, choking her as much as the deathly stench; something akin to expired paint. Tears were released from their hold, gathering up and streaming down her cheeks as she turned almost the same color as her dead girlfriend that laid before her. She'd only been gone for a few weeks on business. She knew that her girlfriend had caught some sort of virus while she was gone, but she didn't realize that it would kill her. Had she not done enough? How had she not been there? Why was she the one to have the woman she loved ripped away from her?

As the older woman held the younger woman's hand and wept, the all to familiar voice of Sharon Stanfield blared through the television speaker. The woman, too distraught, could only catch a bit of what the reporter was saying. "City declared safe... four hundred thirty-two lives lost... vaccinations... back to normal?"

Normal?

Nothing would ever be normal again.
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n o v e m b e r 1 0 t h, 2 0 1 7
and so it begins...
 
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Location: Grimaldi's
Interacting with: Zoya?




"Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us."
David Richo



SOMETIMES CAMERON WISHED THAT SHE DIDN'T HAVE A PSYCHIATRIST FOR AN AUNTIE, that whenever something "traumatic" or "damaging" happened to her, she wouldn't have to sit in her mother's best friend's home office acting as though she were one of her patients. To tell the truth, she didn't want to answer questions like "how did that make you feel?" or "what made you do that?" She wanted to lay in her bed with the covers pulled over her head. She wanted to put in her earbuds and drown out the rest of the world with music. She wanted to forget about the stupid Barracuda Virus and losing one of her closest friends. But there she was, laying down in the uncomfortable reclining chair at nearly two o'clock in the afternoon because, instead of going out to celebrate the passing of the virus like every other teenager in the area, she was stuck reliving the experience.

Cam laid with her arms crossed over her stomach and her eyes closed, thinking that maybe if she pretended to fall asleep, her aunt Debra wouldn't barrage her with questions. She was almost sure that she was successful until she heard her aunt clear her throat and flip a page in her notepad. She was ready. "With all that you've experienced over the past few weeks, it all must have been very traumatic," Debra said, and Cam couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Of course it was traumatic. It wasn't everyday that you saw a dead body in a high school bathroom. It wasn't everyday that everyone in the city caught some fatal, incurable virus. It wasn't everyday that you lost your best friend. Still, Cameron shrugged her shoulders to show that she wasn't ignoring her, and Debra scribbled a few words in her notepad. "Maybe you can start at the beginning. Tell me everything that happened."

Another eye-roll.

The room remained silent for a few minutes before Cameron finally spoke. She knew that she wasn't going to get out of the uncomfortable position until she started to talk. "I was supposed to have a test in calculus that day," she said, shutting her eyes once more, "I actually studied for it a few weeks ago, you know. I never study, but I needed to get my grade up or else I wouldn't have been able to exempt my midterm exams."

"Cameron," her mother said from the opposite side of the room, but she kept going.

"I studied. I made flashcards. I memorized all of those equations only to be sent home right before we were supposed to take the test. Ain't that some bullshit?" Her eyes suddenly popped open and she glanced in her mother's direction. She had never said a curse word in front of any of her family members, even though they were aware that she had the mouth of a sailor. This was mostly out of respect; that and the fact that if she had said a bad word any other day, her mother would've slapped her silly. However, her mother looked unfazed by her foul language, so she closed her eyes again and continued. "If I would've known I was gonna end up skipping the test, I would have just stayed home. I could have gone to the mall or something, maybe even start some early Summer clothes shopping. But I did go to school that day, and I found a dead girl in the bathroom."

"How do you feel now?" Debra asked, and she scoffed.

"I really wish I could have taken that test."

Cameron answered the rest of her aunt's questions until her notepad was full with notes and scribbles. She couldn't help but wonder what Debra wrote down on the page, because not much she said seemed to be of any importance. She didn't give direct answers, so maybe that's what she wrote. Maybe she wrote that she was still in shock, which wouldn't be completely inaccurate.

She told Cameron that she was free to go when the clock struck three, so she gathered her things and headed out of the front doors and straight to the subway station. She didn't bother to wait for her mother. For the past week, the two had been practically glued at the hip, so she was eager to finally spend some time alone now that she'd gotten over the virus. All over the city people were finally mustering up the courage to step foot out into the world; shops and restaurants had reopened, school was due to open in another few weeks, and the subway was just as packed as it was the day before shit went down. Cameron sat in an empty seat on the subway, watching with a mixture of fascination and disgust as the older man sitting across from her picked at a scab on his elbow.

The first place Cameron went to after she got off the train was Grimaldi’s, ready to return to work. The pizza shop had been open for a little over two weeks, but Mr. Moretti had insisted on Cam staying home for another week to be sure that she'd gotten over the virus. Of course, she understood. That didn't mean that she had looked forward to another week of being her mother's patient. "buon pomeriggio," Cameron called to the Italian man as she walked through the front doors, "guess who's virus free?"

Mr. Moretti simply laughed at Cameron's pronunciation of the Italian greeting and tossed an apron her way. She caught it with ease, pulling off her jacket and tying the apron around her waist as she headed towards the back to wash her hands. "Ben tornato," the man said, "welcome back." Cameron got back to work immediately; she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed making pizzas in the sultry little pizzeria. Pretty soon, she was back in her usual groove. She'd forgotten all about the stupid Barracuda Virus and the toll it had taken. That is, until the bell above the entrance door rang, signaling a new customer.

"We'll be right with you," Cam yelled from the back, quickly wiping the flour from her hands and grabbing a fresh pad and pen. She hurried out of the kitchen and to the front counter, but nearly screamed when she saw who was waiting for her.

She looked the same exact same as the last time Cameron saw her: freshly done makeup, neatly braided hair, and a bright orange blouse that complemented her dark complexion. Zoya Williams leaned against the counter, her chin resting in the palm of her hand and her usual, cheeky grin plastered on her face. In her empty hand was a crumpled ten dollar bill, ready to be spent on her usual slice of Brooklyn Bridge pizza. Was Cameron finally losing her mind? Maybe this was the final stage of the virus. Insanity. Nonetheless, Cameron approached the counter with caution, blinking hard to be sure that her eyes were not deceiving her. Zoya laughed her silvery laugh at the young woman's facial expression, and Cam nearly fainted. "You're not supposed to be here," Cameron said as her best friend continued to laugh.

"Now, is that the proper way to greet your best friend?" Zo said with one last giggle.

"You're dead."

"Obviously not, if I'm standing right in front of you." Zo retorted. Cameron shook her head in disbelief, placing the empty pad and pen down on the counter before turning to grab her purse from the nearby table. She was officially losing her mind, and she needed to get away. "Where do you think you're going? I haven't ordered my pizza yet, Cammy," Zo said, and Cameron couldn't help but shiver at the sound of the old nickname. Still, she didn't turn back to face the other girl, instead focusing on putting on her jacket. "You can't ignore me forever, Cammy," Zoya said, but Cameron still would not face her.

"Please, just go away." Cameron said, raising her voice an octave and shutting her eyes, "I don't need this, Jesus. Not today." Cameron's eyes were shut for what seemed like forever before a familiar deep voice pulled her back to reality.

"Cosa sta succedendo," Mr. Moretti said as he came from the kitchen, "what's going on? Is everything alright, Cam? Your shift isn't over for another couple of hours." The young woman slowly reopened her eyes, taking a deep breath before turning back to the counter.

Zoya was gone.
 
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Richard
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Location: Richard's house

Interacting with: (???)

Richard awoke, for what felt like the first time.

The virus had incapacitated him for a matter of months, and the experience was apparently not unique, but unlike the others, Richard was none too personally impacted. He had always been fairly sure that he would survive, and nobody close to him died. Turning over to his side, he witnessed the faint glow of his television. broadcasting images of tragedy and travesty, like a film in black-and-white. He had an odd feeling that the rest of the day was about to be just as surreal.

Rising from his bed, Richard was reminded of what it was like not to be ill. Back when he was sick, ambulation felt like swimming through molasses. Everything felt heavy, as if chained to items double their weight. It was like a personal hell, being unable to experience the world as a healthy individual would. Now that he had finally escaped the virus's grips, he could relish in a newer, similarly hellish experience in less than a month; a return to the orderly life of a student. Waking up early, biking off to school, hearing meaningless words claw their way to his ears like soldiers marching to their deaths. Then, at the end of it all, he got to go home, only to repeat the cycle hundreds of times. He dreaded the upcoming January. But hey, at the end of it, he was allowed half of his regular time off, before starting everything again. Counting his blessings, he was.

As he left his room, a distinct silence punctuated the atmosphere. It seemed that his parents had left the house, for some unknown reason. At the very least, it meant he was able to eat his breakfast alone, like he always did on school days. One of the few things he could enjoy about the weekdays. The feeling of the carpeted stairs under his feet further reminded him of the usual weekday tradition, however the sight that immediately followed was decidedly unusual.

"Hey."

A girl sat at the edge of his living room, the wooden floorboards bridging the gap between the two.

"...how the hell did you get into my house?"

It was a girl he recognized, too. She was a friend of his, at some point. He remembered...strangely little about her, but then again he didn't exactly have an impressive memory. Recalling whenever it was that he met her was like watching distant, low-quality recordings.

"That's not the right question."
Richard was not a fan of cryptic bullshit, and less so when it came from intruders. The girl gave a knowing smirk upon Richard's confusion, as if she knew what was in his head. "It doesn't matter now anyways. What do you remember about me?"

"You were a friend, or something like that. Back when I lived in Leduc, in 9th grade, we..."

That's about where your memories end.

"A 'friend,' huh? Is that what you think?" Her smirk dispersed, replaced by an expression of seriousness. "Fine. I'll get out of your hair then. But here's a better question for you; why do you think I wanted to see you again?"

With that, and a blink, she vanished. As if she was never there.

And for the second time, Richard felt as if he had just woken up.
 
Daniella "Dani" Blake
Daniella, aka Dani, shouldn't be out of bed yet. After suffering from a virus that should have killed her, and nearly had, Dani should be resting and gathering her strength for the day's ahead. Her doctors knew it, her aunt knew it, heck even her little brother knew it. But Dani had enough bed rest for a life time and didn't want to stay there another minute. So when she was sure that her aunt and little brother had left the house and would not be returning for anything left behind (Aunt Clarissa was famous for forgetting her keys) she had began to make her way out of her bedroom, where the smell of sickness still hung heavy, and down the steps.

It took time to maneuver with her walking stick and her legs shook from the effort, weakened as she was, but finally she made it down the steps and into the open kitchen. Settling onto the small window seat that adjourned the kitchen she let her walking stick fall to her feet as she clumsily opened one of the large windows and just curled up there. Basking in the gust of fresh air and sunshine that she received.
This was her favorite spot in the house. It's were she practiced braille when she first moved in and where she sat with her aunt when she was told new and old stories about her parents. It was where she did homework with her friend Juniper. A girl she met at her archery club that was as blind as her. The only one she had been able to tentatively call ' her best friend'. The memory of Juniper shook her from the calm state she had fallen into as it was followed by more.

Memories of Junipers voice. Juniper's laugh. Her stern tone as she attempted to scold her when she tried to give up and her soft one when she encouraged her while helping her learn braille. And the way her voice rose in pitch when she spoke of something she found exciting. The way she cheered Dani on in archery club. And finally the news of her death.

Before she knew it Dani's eyes were stinging and she could feel the warmth of tears as they made trails down her face. Juniper shouldn't have died. She was stronger then Dani. She wanted to live. Dani was just a ball of self guilt and old wounds, so why did she survive while Juniper didn't?! Small sob's escaping her mouth she buried her head into her knees. She hadn't got to say goodbye or mourn. She hadn't even been able to attend the funeral. All because of the sickness.

"Aw, Dani don't tell me those tear's are for little old me?"

Crying out in shock Dani tumbled from her perch and onto the floor, hitting her head hard. Blinking against the pain she looked in the direction the voice she had just heard had come from. When after a few minutes had passed in silence she began berating herself under her breath, angry and a bit disappointed. For a second she could have sworn...but no. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Of course it wasn't real. You just got to lost in your memories."

"Good one's I would hope."

Scrambling to her feet she swung in the direction of the voice. The one that sounded like Juniper. "Who are you!? What are you doing in my house?!"

"Now I'm hurt. Forget about me already D." The voice said teasingly followed by a burst of laughter. "Just kidding, I know you would never forget me so easily. After all I am your best friend."

Falling back onto the window seat she stared in the direction of the voice with wide eyes. When the voice didn't continue she asked tentatively her had reaching out in the direction of the voice. "J-Juniper?"

Only silence responded.​
 
Thalia Harris

The sixteen year old laid on the old, dusty bed that she’s been lying on since the virus took its toll on her. She opened her eyes to a cracked window, staring at the cloud-covered sky and sighing as she sat up, her hair seeming untamed as it does on the daily.

Thalia slowly stood from her bed; the cold, broken floorboards almost seeming foreign to the feet that she hasn’t used in what seems like forever. She took a few cautious steps to the same cracked window and came to see a few people walking the streets. It was such a shocking sight that she grabbed her same worn out hoodie, along with her black ripped jeans and quickly slipped them on, leaving her “pajamas” on the ground next to her bed.

The now slightly ecstatic girl ran to her front door and slipped on her slides, leaving the house behind her. The fresh air immediately hit her in the face and she couldn’t help but smile. She took her time with walking down the street, a few gusts of wind blowing through her tangled curls every now and then, and she couldn’t help but enjoy it. There were people interacting with one another, some seeming worried or cautious while others were, in a sense, celebrating.

About an hour passed when Thalia’s stomach had started growling. She knew she had no money, and she just didn’t have the right mindset or energy to steal something from a nearby shop. So instead, she found a well kept house with a warm, welcoming feeling as she approached the door. She lifted her hand to knock on the door before she stopped herself and thought things through.

Don’t beg, just simply ask.

Everybody’s just getting over the virus, so they might be limited on food.

Stay “classy”.


Thalia lightly laughed at her last thought. Nothing about her was classy. Her demeanor was not what you would call classy. But she knocked on the door anyway. And after a while of waiting, when the door finally opened, she saw someone she thought, or knew, she would never see again.

Her little brother Izayah.

There he was. Looking the same way he had before he had decided to commit suicide. And for Thalia, it was like it was happening all over again. An empty canister that once held the pills for her deadbeat father, laying on the floor next to the bathtub, where she found her younger sibling. His cold, lifeless eyes holding all the sadness he's been hiding away in the back of his mind.

The now saddened teenage girl looked at her supposedly deceased brother, feeling tears streaming down her face. His expression was joyful, nonetheless, and he had a grin plastered across his face.

"Hi, T." Was all he said, and those two words alone were the only words she needed to hear before she reached out to hug him. She wrapped her shaking arms around him, pulling him in tightly and closing her eyes from the warm feeling he emitted. But once she opened her eyes...

He was gone.
 
Character: Emily
Location: Her Home
Speaking To: Unknown?


Emily slept soundly as the sun rose and poured through her window. At least she was supposed to. But Emily couldn't sleep, much like most nights previous. She had only gotten an hour of sleep, finally passing out at 4 am to wake again at 5 to her father snoring in the next room over, and the sound of foxes retreating outside. 8 am blinked on her alarm clock when she heard the sloshing of the shower starting up. Sighing the girl swung her legs around the bed and shakily tried to stand, gripping on her nightstand for support.
That was when she saw him. His brown hair much like hers with cracked scuffed black wire glasses. He smiled and looked at her laughimg and saying something unintelligable before turning. Her knuckles turned white as another female strode up behind him. Her green eyes seemed soft, unlike how she was in life as she looked at her with a smile.
"Come on Bird~ You can do it!"
Emily bit her lip and closed her eyes. It wasn't real she kept telling herself over and over like a broken record. Yet she could still hear them. Michaels loud laughing that she barely heard and her mother, she could feel the stare on her back. Emily turned around tje best she could and still holding the nightstand stared at them. They smiled at her. Her mother offered her a hand, smiling. Emily stared at the hand before reaching out saying in a whisper, "Mom... Michael" Emily tried to take her mothers hand and in doing so let go of the nightstand and suddenly fell, the illusion of her mother and brother turning to mist before her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes before she called out for her father.
Her father still wet from his shower came into his young daughter's room on request. Emily reached out for his hand looking around for the oh so real silhouettes of her mother and brother that seemed to dissapear. Her father grabbed her hand before sighing and saying, "You have to be more careful Em! You know you need help when you first get up, at least for a few more days." Emily nodded going along with it, vowing to herself not to tell her father what she had just seen.
 
Chris Derby

Sunlight pounded on his eyelids as it filtered through his bedroom window. Chris' eyes flittered in response, the sudden intrusion being enough to stir him from his sleep. A few minutes later, and they were wide open, staring semi-blankly at the room around him.

As usual, everything was a mess. Clothes were scattered over the furniture, some just on the floor, some hanging over the solitary chair. At least it was clean, his mother having come in every so often to dust things down. He'd hardly had the energy to do anything himself.

He groaned as he lofted himself off his bed, struggling slightly against the weight of his quilt. Even though he'd mostly recovered from the virus at this point, his body had weakened from the weeks he'd spent bed-ridden, leaving him somewhat fragile. Hopefully he would recover once his appetite returned to him.

A few tentative steps later, and he'd made it over to his window, shutting the curtains for now. It didn't take long for him to get dressed, throwing on the clothes that were easiest to access, being on top of the piles he'd made. This ended up being a somewhat over-sized pair of sweatpants, and an equally large hoodie, both draping over him. He didn't care enough to match anything right now.

He carefully lowered himself down the flight of stairs, being careful not to trip and fall down, like had happened previously.

It'd been a few days since he'd been pronounced free of the virus that had plagued him these last few weeks, and he was still adjusting to actually being able to live self-sufficiently again. As strange as it was, it'd been hard learning even to feed himself again, especially when his body was still so naturally resistant to it. Just getting the food into his stomach was something of a battle, and it once it was in there, it seemed to be doing everything it could to get out again. Sometimes it felt like he was just held together by bits of tissue paper, but at least he was mostly mobile again. He'd gotten sick of lying in that bed a long--

"Chris!"

He froze, as he heard the voice behind him, coming from the living room. He recognised the voice... but it couldn't be.

"CHRIS!"

No, he could definitely hear that. But it didn't make any sense. She was... gone.

He slowly turned around, looking at the open door. There wasn't anything there, as expected. Even so, he stood there and stared at it for a while. Both his parents were out, both having jobs to get to, regardless of how ill he was. No-one else was in the house but him. But even so, the longer he looked, the more he thought he could see a glimpse, a hint of a shadow moving across...

KNOCK KNOCK!

The sound brought him back to reality, giving him a well-needed distraction right now. He was still somewhat shook by the slightly odd experience, but right now he just wanted to forget all about it - the more he thought about it, the worse it seemed to him.

Now moving a little more hastily, despite his body's protests, he shuffled his way over to the front door, deliberately choosing a route that avoided going into the living room. No-one was expected to come around today, but he'd gotten somewhat used to surprise visits from semi-distant relatives, who were much more inclined to see how he was now that they weren't afraid he was going to pass something on to him.

Of course, when he opened the door, it was not a relative that greeted him at all. Instead, he found himself looking down at a girl who he didn't immediately recognise, clearly in tears.

"Hey, are you alright?" Chris asked, voice still slightly hoarse, but still genuinely tinged with concern.

itsmaura itsmaura
 
Atticus Loren Anderson - Location: Home - Interacting: Charles Anderson

Sprawled out on the unkept twin size mattress, a cool breeze swept in through the bedroom window. The noises of the town used to fill the air in the early morning, but now...just silence. Staring at the time on the alarm clock, Atticus had a difficult time sleeping. Memories of the virus still boggled his mind from when he withered in that hospital bed. The tears rolling down his parents face, believing that they were going to lose their only child. It was all so dreary and depressing, which was not Atty's scene. Slowly rising from off his bed, Atticus couldn't be inside any longer. The day looked pleasant enough for a bike ride around town to clear his mind. The only problem was getting past his father, Charles.

The poor man blames himself for what happened to Atticus with catching the virus, being he's a registered nurse. Thinking that he somehow transferred the illness from another patient bringing it home to his son. Now it's been bedrest on extreme lockdown, as Charles doesn't want anything else to happen to his boy. With Atticus entirely out of bed, he gave a vast stretch then headed for the door. Walking out of his room, he saw his dad sitting at the dining room table with a coffee in one hand, and the paper in the other. "Morning! Reading anything interesting?" Atty greeted his father with a massive smile on his face, trying to schmooze him over.

Charles trailed worrisome eyes trailed up to his son with a smirk on the corner of his lip. "Morning to you too. I'm just seeing if Charlie Brown is ever going to kick that football. That grin of yours is more prominent than usual. Let me guess, you want to go for a bike ride? You would think after the 500th time you would think of a different approach. That signature smile of yours only worked when you were younger." Charles said jokingly then returned back to his paper, pretty much already giving his answer.

"Dad, come on! It's the perfect time to go riding! Not too many people, a cool breeze, and I'm feeling great. I can't keep staying in my room like a bubble kid, or Rapunzel." Atticus protested as he approached his father. Dropping on his knees, he held his hands together with determination in his eyes that he was gonna go riding. It was begging, he's reached that point now. "It won't even be a long ride. Just a short one I swear!"

"Haha! Rapunzel? You know you do have the long hair like her. But, I don't think she had a life-threatening virus. So, you really want to just ride your bike. Fine, but I don't want you going too far!" Charles gave in to his son and sighed on his decision. Taking a sip of his coffee, he continued to read his paper. Although he didn't show it, his nerves were shaking.

"Yes! Thank you, dad! You won't regret this, I swear!" Racing off to his room, Atticus quickly searched for some clothes before his dad had time to change his mind. Putting on a black hoodie and some khaki pants, Atty hurried out his room and grabbed his cherry red mountain bike with him. As he made his way towards the exit of his building, Atty climbed on top of his bike wondering where to head first.
 

Miu Torika
Interacting: Appa/Asashi Torika
Location: Hospital

Miu was still in the Hospital, ever since she had been hit by the virus. She remembers the virus spreading like wildfire within the school and a bunch of deaths being announced daily on the news, it had become an epidemic. That is why Miu had been quarantined by her father and mother and bared from school. Her father arranged with the school to have Miu's work faxed over to the house so that she could continue to study. A day later the school had been shut down due to how dangerous the outbreak had become. Miu had still shown no signs of any illness at that point. It was when both her mother and father had been forced to house arrest due to the outbreak that Miu started to feel the symptoms. Her parents panicked at the thought.

Miu's home became a private medical facility, her counsin; whom so luckily happened to be a doctor, conducted exams on her daily to see if she was going to survive. In fact he lived with them whilst the epidemic was reaching its peak. Miu's father refused to leave the state let alone the country and stubbornly stayed put in the house. At the very least both him and Miu's mother could work from the home if need be. Miu on the other had happened to be getting worse, she would have breathing fits and sometimes stop breathing all together.

That was months ago and most distress was gone now. Miu was undergoing a daily checkup, but today it was at a local hospital and not in her own home. It was still her cousin preforming the check up though. Miu was all in good health like the past two months. That didn't stop her parents from requiring she take these medical exams, as well as, continue on her studies.

Miu heard about the many whom had died due to the virus, why was she so lucky? Miu lost a very good neighbor of her's; Mrs. Fornal. Mrs. Fornal was a wonderful women whom was like a second mother to her and to even hear that she died saddened Miu greatly. She is very grateful that the virus was never passed to her parent through her, but still the lose was heavy on everyone. Miu hardly knew anyone in the school, so her sorrows from the deaths didn't reach too personal; but that doesn't mean she isn't sorry for everyone who lost their life.

Once Miu was cleared by her cousin, she grabbed her backpack, and met with her father waiting right outside the door. He opened his arms wide, for today was his day to pick her up. Miu greeted her father with a smile and embraced him, hugging him tight. It was their signature squeeze hug, she missed everyday she couldn't have it. "Easy now, we don't want you having to use that inhaler already." Her father commented, and Miu smiled back anyway, not loosening her grip. She was given an inhaler as an emergency back up, since her breathing was still unpredictable, and the doctors believe that she might have developed asthma due to the virus.

"Don't worry Appa, I know my limits. Plus I haven't had to use it since I got it." Miu then let her father go and took out the inhaler. "I still think this is a little too much. I haven't had a breathing fit since I was cleared." She had been taught how to use it and told to keep it within reach at all times, but Miu wasn't too sure she would need it.

"We've talked about this before Miu, just keep it on you for your mother and I. We feel a lot less at ease if you just keep it around." Asashi put his hand on his daughters cheek, rubbing his thumb against her cheek as a gentle gesture of paternal love. He then dropped his hand as he directed her to start walking towards the entrance of the building. "Now, should we go to that pizzeria we used to? I also have another surprise for you."

Miu was used to how much her father would spoil her with the little time they spent together and really enjoyed it. After all, he was determined to become a senator now and make sure something like the Barracuda virus outbreak never happens again. Time with him was precious. "Okay Appa, I get to choose the pizza this time, even if it has mushrooms on it." Miu's father laughed at the comment and reluctantly agreed as he put his arm on her opposite shoulder and walked her out of the Hospital.

 
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Thalia Harris

The sound of a hoarse voice brought Thalia back into reality. She looked up at the figure standing in the doorway and quickly wiped her tears away. Crying in front of people was something she learned not to do. It showed vulnerability and weakness. And the last thing she needed was some ridiculous pity from a person she hardly knew.

Thalia cleared her throat before saying, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Her voice wavered and cracked as soon as she started her sentence. It was clear that she was not alright, but she kept her act going and fixed her composure, speaking once more.

“Do you possibly have any food that you could spare for me? Anything will be fine.”

Her facial expression was straight-faced and stiff. Her lips were shaped into a straight line and her eyebrows were slightly furrowed. Her posture was upright and she had her hands stuck in the pockets of her hoodie. The only feature that showed the slightest bit of emotion were her eyes. They carried the most sadness and despair you could ever recognize in a human being. All the memories of her brother continuously rushed through her head and it was driving her crazy.

Thalia sighed softly and thought to herself, why is this happening to me? Where did that hallucination come from? But those were two questions that she, and probably everybody else, did not have the answer to.

That, too, was driving her crazy.

She needed explanations. She couldn’t live like this. It would tear her apart.

But she finally got out of her head, and redirected her attention to the boy.



WhipDing WhipDing
 
Hayley Lane

"Whaddaya mean, it's broken!?"

Hayley's day had not gotten off to a good start. First she hadn't been able to find the jacket she'd been planning on wearing, then she'd burnt her toast, and then sh'e'd lost her key to the house...

Yeah, not great.

And now she was standing in a Bodega, just trying to buy a stick of gum. Of course, she couldn't, because she wasn't carrying any cash, and apparently their card machine was broken. Because that was just her luck...

"...whatever." She rolled her eyes, and then glared at the cashier. She roughly placed the gum down on the counter, and turned on her heel dramatically, before walking out of the little store. "I really have better things to do today."

Which was a lie. In truth, she had no idea what she was going to do today at all. She'd just known she had to get outside - ever since recovering from the virus, she hadn't felt ready to leave the house. Both the physical and the mental strain it had put on her was just too much. But, being inside for that long had started to drive her a little crazy. She hadn't even talked to anyone for the past few days, other than her dad. And as much as she hated people... she really needed people right now.

Then she saw it.

A man, standing motionless in the middle of the sidewalk, sticking out like a sore thumb against the bustling crowds of people that were rushing around. Dressed casual-formal, just staring at the ground. But then he looked up at her.

She could never forget that face. The creased forehead, the eyes that seemed to always be laughing, the pointed nose. How could she? She'd known him so long. Grown up with him. Played with him as a child. Listened to his stories.

Cried at his funeral.

She simply stood there in shock for who knew how long. This... this wasn't possible. Had she finally lost it?

"Hey, move it!"

Someone bumped into her from behind, knocking her out of her trance. She once again glared at the offender, before looking back at the spot where the man had stood. Of course, he was all but gone.
 
Alexandria Jean Danvers - Location: Home - Interaction: Mom, TBD

Prepping for the day in stride, Alexandria was brushing away at her long blonde hair while staring into her vanity. Since the Barracuda Virus outbreak, Alexandria has been locked away in her room to recover. Amongst her room were deflated balloons, wilted flowers, and a plethora of ripped cards reading 'Get Well.' All of which were placed into her garbage, as she had no time for everyone's sympathy. The remembrance of her time in the hospital just angered her and filled her with questions. Why did it have to be her to get sick? Why couldn't it have been her twin sister Layla? Just thinking of that artificial worried look on her families face pissed her off.

As she began to apply makeup under her eyes, she paused seeing an unrecognizable figure in the corner of her room. Swiftly turning her head, Alexandria had a confused look on her face as she scanned her room. Weirdly the figure vanished, but she knew she saw someone. "Layla? I swear to god if you're in my room!" She barked, continuing to eye her bedroom for her sister. Maybe it was just an eye floater? Returning to her morning routine, she was almost finished. Adding the final touches, Alexa got up from her chair and turned to see what looked to be her sister just standing there in the corner of her room. "Get out!" She yelled without any hesitation, but the shadowy figure didn't respond back, only smiled.

Stomping towards what she thought was her sister, Alexandria clenched her hands tightly into a fist. "What are you deaf? I said get out! Don't just stand there like you don't hear me!" Continuing her tirade, Alexa swung her arm out with her finger pointing at the door. "There's your exit!"

Suddenly a couple of knocks were heard on her bedroom door. "Alexandria, is everything alright? Who are you shouting at?" It was her mother worried if something was wrong with her daughter.

"Layla won't leave my room mom! She's just standing here like some mute staring at me." She complained, but when she turned back to look at who she thought was her sister; they vanished into thin air. "What?"

"Alexa sweetie, your sister is downstairs eating breakfast. Are you sure you're okay? Do you need any water?" Her mother sounded concerned, thinking her daughter was going crazy.

"I'm fine. I uh, I'll be downstairs in a minute." Alexandria felt like she was losing her mind. Rubbing at her eyes, she thought that maybe it was a lash that was in her line of sight. She was there, wasn't she?
 







SAMUEL

Location: Home | Interacting with: Dad| Mentions: N/A




Sam awoke to a quiet room.

He sat up in bed, feeling oddly healthy. Morning sunlight illuminated his window's shades, bursting through the curtains and into his bedroom. Sam frowned, shaking his muddled head. Just a few weeks ago, he felt like he was burning head to toe, his skin flaking off. But that was just a memory. He'd spent the last few nights wakeful and unsleeping, but otherwise he felt... perfectly well. The sickness and the pain had long since subsided, but despite Sam's protestations of his well-being, he could see that nothing would stop his parents' incessant nurturing and protection. He couldn't blame them.

Sam slipped out of bed, not bothering to draw the curtains. The sunlight was faint, which meant it was still early morning, but he could already hear people moving about outside. He crept over to the door, creaking it open and stepping out. The Lieberman residence overall was small, with a common area, a small kitchen, one bathroom, and three bedrooms. The bathroom could be found a the end of the corridor to Sam's left, past the other two bedrooms. The other end opened up to the common space, which was really just one big square of a room where the kitchen, dining area, and living room coexisted.

Sam's father sat at the dining table, one hand to his head, and a half-empty coffee mug in the other. Joseph Lieberman was a short, balding man in his fifties with round-rimmed glasses he cleaned obsessively and fussed with when he was nervous, which was happening increasingly often. Dad looked up from the table, eyes thinning at Sam. "Good morning, Sam." he said.
"Hi, Dad."
In the next heartbeat, Joseph was on his feet, moving to place a hand on Sam's forehead before he could protest. "How've you been feeling? You're not still--"
Sam was anticipating this question. "No, Dad." he asserted. "I'm better now. You don't have to keep fussing about all this."
Dad lifted an eyebrow ever so slightly. "Are you sure?" he asked firmly. "You've been acting differently since you left the hospital. They didn't do anything weird to you in there, did they?"
"No, Dad! That's --" Sam cut himself off before he could say anything too aggravating. Dad's wrath was one best avoided. "I think I just need some fresh air, is all. Just a quick walk around the block to help me get a hold of myself, okay?" Sam said, delicately. Dad turned to seat himself back at the table. "Alright." he said, after a moment's hesitation. "But be back before we open. I still need your help at the bakery today."

"Sure thing, dad." Sam promised. He slung his jacket over his shoulder and nonchalantly pulled open the front door. "And please, just try to relax for me, alright? I'm gonna be fine." Sam thought he could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his father's lips as he shut the door behind him. He was not certain he'd be able to take his advice to heart.
code by Ri.a
 
NAME: DERRICK
LOCATION: HIS HOME/THE PARK
INTERACTING WITH: NICKY?


It was dark, impossibly dark. Why wasn't the moon shining bright to light up the ground? Or at least the stars? I could barely make out a figure, sitting on the swings of the playground. The swing make a horrendous squeaking sound that make me cringe a little before walking forward to see who it was on this impossibly dark night.
As I got closer to the person I realized some distinct features I couldn't ignore. Those same brown eyes and same blonde hair. "Nicky? I called out. He didnt answer.

-○-

Derrick Churchill awoke to the sound of the front door being slammed. His ginger hair was disheveled and his hand still clutched at his heart. The male groaned kicking off his black comforter and standing up being shaky on his legs for a minute before gaining his balance and walking out of his room into the bathroom.
Derrick's mother had stayed with him as the virus had took its toll, but now that he was virus free she had no reason to stay and had gone back to work. Derrick sighed thinking about it. He loved his mother truly but she was constantly working so he never got to see her for more than a passing glance in the morning and a little at night. It was nice to see her more than thirty minutes a day but he knew sacrifices had to be made for as long as he lived under her roof. As he showered he contemplated getting a job and trying to crash with one of his friends. He shook his head as he realized, Nicky was his only friend.
Derrick quickly dried his hair and dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans before grabbing his phone, headphones, and a poptart and walking out the door. Putting his headphones on the ginger walked to the park. A few times he swore he could see Nicky. In front of his house, down the street, at the stop sign.
"Hey wait up!!"
"Wanna sleepover tonight? Work on the coding together?"
"Derrick?"
Derrick ignored it quietly, thinking its just remenents of his dream. Eventually the hallucination dissapated as he neared the park. He then walks up to the swing he saw Nicky so vividly in his dream, holding the metal chain before sitting down. Music poured through his earbuds as he swung back and forth, his music blaring blocking out the squeaking of the rusty old chains.


(If anyone wants to walk in here to be friends with Derrick *cough* richard *cough* feel free)
 
Chris Derby

Despite what she'd said, Chris could tell she clearly wasn't fine. His face, previously furrowed with concern, now eased into a look of what he hoped was friendliness. This wasn't a scenario he'd had to deal with before - people had come round looking for food before, but his parents had always dealt with it... and none of them had been this young.

"Um, sure. Hold on, let me see what we've got..."

He left the door open as he shuffled away. Giving away food wasn't something he had any issue with doing, especially seeing as his own body wasn't particularly keen on processing any itself right now. Besides, it just felt like the right thing to do. People didn't usually knock on strangers' doors and ask for stuff unless they absolutely had to. At least, that's what he assumed.

A fair amount of time passed before he returned. In one hand, he carried a fully-prepared sandwich, wrapped in cling-film, and in the other, an unopened can of tomato soup. Again, this wasn't something he was used to, and as such, he hadn't been totally sure what he was supposed to give her; did she mean a meal? Long-lasting food? In the end, he'd simply settled on both, just to be safe.

As he offered the food to her, arms outstretched, another thought occurred to him. He just couldn't get the image of her eyes when he'd opened the door out of his head. Even he couldn't mistake the overwhelming sadness that seemed to weigh them down for anything else. It seemed like she had been shook by something, but he couldn't possibly imagine what. He had no idea what kind of life she lived.

But one thing he did know was that he would feel terrible if he didn't at least offer...

"Hey, uh, do you want a hot drink or something? Tea? Coffee?" He gestured back into the house, towards the kitchen.

itsmaura itsmaura
 
Angelique Midnight

Angel yawns as she hears her parents call her "Angel dear, you wanted to take a detour right?" her father asks "Yes dad, I wanna walk around a bit before doing the errand" Angel says heading outside. She stretches and she sighs seeing her shadow once again gone "Need to stop doing that" she mumbles to herself as she starts walking aimlessly, she wondered where she could go, she hadn't been allowed outside since the virus struck. She passes the park and she goes that way, she had practiced her powers and her parents were more then a little worried about her behavior. She sees someone in the park and walks over since she's bored anyway, she makes sure her shadow is still there before tapping a boy on his shoulder, hoping she won't scare him much since he seems to be listening to music.

The first time her shadow had disappeared she had freaked out quite badly, she had ben lucky her parents weren't home at that time, although she had been getting beter at handling her powers it was pretty unpredictable most of the time.

IzzyFizzy IzzyFizzy
 
She could see the concern in his face and she gritted her teeth at the sight of it. She can fend for herself, she doesn’t need anybody’s sympathy or help. Her fingers started fidgeting in the pockets of her hoodie; she was anxious to get out of there before he asked her stick around for a few.

When the boy had finally gone inside to see what he had to give, she sighed and relaxed. Her posture was no longer upright, it was more slouched and not as stiff. She leaned against the side of the doorway, patiently waiting for him to come back with something.

Thalia was quite surprised that someone even answered the door for her; let alone actually trying to help her. People in New York aren’t exactly the friendliest and they’re always catching an attitude. So the way he was acting was not exactly what Thalia was anticipating. But she was definitely not complaining.

After a while, the boy returned to the door and Thalia quickly regained her composure. She eyed the sandwich and the tomato soup in his hands; her stomach couldn’t help but growl. His arms were extended out to her and she shyly took the food from his hands. She gave a slight smile, only to be polite. He didn’t have to do this for her.

She was about to repay him with a “thank you” but before she could, he had offered her to come inside and have a hot drink. The gesture was nice, and not completely unexpected, but she was hesitant and wasn’t sure if she could trust him.

But she replied with a “yes, please” anyway.


WhipDing WhipDing
 
Jaylen Marshall

6341784_2.jpeg
The deadly virus that had taken hundreds of lives has finally been lifted away. A humble sense of peace, comfort, and secureness can return back to the New York City borough of Brooklyn. Why not spend such a good lookin' day playing ball? Thought Jaylen as he stepped up to the local basketball court where he and his father would usually have their contentious and competitive one-on-one matches. It has been quite a while since Jaylen even dribbled a basketball, and as a matter of fact is has been a while since Jaylen even went outside ever since the virus had struck.

Being confined in his household for months eating nothing but non-perishable food items while his entire city was quarantined, and being very sick that he thought he had the Barracuda Virus himself was not the best experience for Jaylen. Jaylen rarely gets sick, and if he did it would be something like the common cold or your average stomach virus, but the illness that he prayed not to physically experience again was nothing like the two. Suffering from severe nausea, and painful aching from all over his body, it was an overstatement to say that it was not Jaylen's happiest incident. It got so bad that he even thought of his own death.

But the Barracuda Virus couldn't have been the reason for why he was ill through the last few months, or so he thought? It couldn't have been possible for the virus to affect me. I mean yeah I was sick for a long while, but it couldn't have been the virus; if it was I should be dead right? as Jaylen internally thought to himself he would step up to the free throw line and pull up for a beautifully clean shot. Shouldn't I be dead? As soon as he picked up the bouncing ball off the concrete ground he would shake those troubling thoughts aside and would continue on stepping a few feet back behind the arc and shoot a mastery high arching three-pointer which would find its way inside nothing but the net. Swish.

A few more smooth fluid jumpers, a few more series of displays of his lightning-quick handles, and a couple of flashy dazzling dunks which left people walking by the court marveling in complete awe, and then Jaylen would be ready to make his leave. "Man, I'm kind of starving..." Jaylen said to himself as he spun the ball on the tip of his index finger like a masterful Harlem Globetrotter player. It has been sort of long since Jaylen had real food. Munching on nothing but whole grain cereal and canned beans for months since the virus was not his idea of good eating. It's still early in the afternoon, and maybe Grimaldi's Pizzeria is open, thought Jaylen as he checked his phone for the time. Maybe on the way, I can stop at the bodega and get me a bacon egg and cheese sandwich. Jaylen licked his lips at the thought of chowing down on one of his favorite grubs. Without wasting any time he would leave the court and be on his way while stylishly dribbling the ball with his left hand.
 
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NAME: DERRICK CHRUCHILL
LOCATION: PARK
INTERACTING WITH: ANGEL Flame Demon Flame Demon


Derrick, lost in his thoughts, was startled by the hand on his shoulder. He jumped a bit, taking off his headphones which could still be heard blasting music before turning around.
When Derrick turned around he didn't recognise the girl who tapped his shoulder. He didn't want to be rude and just ignore her however. So, trying to regain some sort of sense of who he was, he smiled and said, "Hello, what is your name?". The senior criged at himself, his voice seeming artificial and overly cheery. Nicky would have pointed it out in an instant and laughed at him before asking what was wrong. Derrick inwardly sighed at this before turning his attention to the other female.


 
Dominick King

Light streamed in from Dominick's window, shining directly onto his face. His eyes fluttered for a moment before suddenly opening with a groan. His eyes were still puffy and red from the constant crying he'd been doing as of late. But now he couldn't let out a single tear if he wanted to. Dominick stared blankly up at his ceiling, refusing to even think about anything related to how shitty his life had been going as of late. The virus had burned its way out of his system and he was more or less fine now. It had been weeks? Months? He couldn't tell. All the days had been blending together as of late. He'd been holed up in his room, dividing his time between either writing or sleeping. The few times he saw his mom she made sure to keep him up to date on the news, not that he really cared in the slightest.

With a sigh Dominick sat up, pushing himself off his bed as he dug through his mess of a room to find some clothes to wear. It was now officially 'safe' to go outside now, so he wasted no time in getting ready to go. Getting dressed quickly he grabbed his skateboard before heading to the kitchen and opening the fridge. He spied the tupperware container instantly, its contents hard to verify but it was obviously food. And as usual on the lid of the container there was a sticky note waiting for him.

WON'T BE HOME TONIGHT. MAKE SURE TO EAT.

He gave a small snort before closing the fridge and heading out his front door. He took the steps three at a time as he stomped down the complex's stairwell eager to get out onto the street. It wasn't long before he was rolling down the sidewalk, the familiar sounds and sensations of the boards wheels on concrete greeted him like a friend. He breathed out a content sigh as he traced his usual route through the city. Dodging through lethargic traffic and crowds on the sidewalk before turning into an abandoned parking garage -- his favorite spot for down hill shenanigans. Before long he had jogged his way up to the top level, his board poised expectantly as he stared down the slope.

"Screw it."

With a deep breath, he pushed off almost immediately gaining speed as the board began to wobble. Steadying himself he got it under control as the slope straightened out, crouching to help himself steer the board around the corner. It was easy enough to manage as he began to descend down the next slope. But strangely he noticed something odd... There was a person at the bottom of the next level waving at him with a smile. A smile that he'd recognize anywhere.

"Dee." He choked the words out, completely losing himself in the moment as he stepped off the board that was now hurtling at the ghost of his dead brother. His toe hit pavement first before the rest of his body followed suit. Tumbling end over end he eventually rolled to a stop before jumping back to his feet, injuries unnoticed. His eyes wildly scanned around him . . . but there was nothing. No trace of his brother. He bit his lip, his fists clenched as he fought back tears. "I'm actually going fuckin' crazy."
 
Angelique Midnight
Park
IzzyFizzy IzzyFizzy


Angel tilts her head "I'm Angelique, but you can call me Angel, what are you doing here on your own?" she asks looking at him "And it'd be rude not to give me your name" she adds, most people would most likely go and get normal things to eat, but that's why she was out, to get something normal to eat while her parents are continuing their normal life "And are you alright? Your voice sounds a bit weird" she says, though she wouldn't be surprised if he caught the virus too, a lot of people had that.
She wondered what was on his mind that the music was so loud, but decided not to question it too much, after all, she wasn't one to pry into people's personal life.
 
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Adam Holder

Adam slowly woke up to the sounds of his alarm clock. It had been a crazy past couple of months. The virus had spread around. People were either dead or close to dying. Adam was one of those affected. He could still remember being in pain, and everything feeling...blurry to him. He slowly sat up and looked around his room. It was a mess. He sighed and started cleaning up everything. He put his clothes in the drawer, and put all of his pens and pencils in his closet. Today was a new day. He could hear his mother downstairs, cleaning.

He walked down stairs, to see his mother cleaning up the kitchen. Adam spoke. "Hey mom, I think I'm going to go out." Adam said. Amy jumped and turned to look at him. She had a worried expression on her face. Adam felt bad. She had been worried of everything since Adam got the virus. "Well...alright." Amy said. Adam smiled and gave his mom a hug. He walked out of the house and thought about a place to eat. There was that pizza place near him. He could go there. Adam began walking in that direction.
 
Chris Derby

Chris gave the girl what he assumed was a comforting smile, and opened the door up wide, gesturing for her to follow him in. He slowly led her through, still shuffling, and deliberately avoiding the living room once again. There may have been nothing in there at all... but the whole experience still had him spooked a little.

Soon enough, they were in the kitchen. The appliances here were old but well-kept, someone taking the time to keep the surfaces clean. The only bit of mess was the crumbs leftover from the sandwich that he'd just made, and even those were limited to the oak chopping board.

Chris filled up the kettle, before placing it on a stand and flicking the switch on. Unlike his guest, he hadn't even considered the idea that she couldn't be trusted. Still, he felt slightly awkward being around someone who knew effectively nothing about... although he couldn't help but think she looked familiar. It was probably just his imagination.

It was perhaps a full minute before he spoke.

"So, uh, I'm Chris."

itsmaura itsmaura
 
Atticus Loren Anderson

Cruising down the bike path with the wind flowing through his hair, Atticus was getting some much-needed leisure time. Being cooped up in that stuffy apartment would only last so long before he went insane. Peddling away ay cherry red mountain bike, Atticus had a mighty dumb grin on his face. It wasn't even that nice out, but Atty didn't care it felt perfect. Without any real destination in mind, he just drifted around town with his earbuds in, listening to some Flying Lotus until something caught his eye.

Glancing about at his surroundings, Atty noticed that the town wasn't like what it used to be. The life and vitality of the people seemed as if it's been drained dry. Taking a look across the street, Atticus noticed the same thing but seen a very familiar face just standing at the bus stop. "Devon?" He muttered in bewilderment, staring at the individual he thought was his friend. "Hey, Devon!" Atticus hollered, taking one hand off of the handlebar he waved to grab their attention. The person standing at the bus stop stared back at Atticus, giving a pleasant smile but something seemed off.

Not paying attention to where he was riding, Atticus crashed into a garbage can chucking himself onto the sidewalk. Landing on his back, Atticus groaned in pain as he tried to pull himself up off the ground. As he sat on the cement, Atticus looked back over to the bus stop for his friend; but he was gone. Was that truly Devon? There was just no way. Devon contracted the virus when it first emerged and didn't make it. But yet he was standing there at the bus stop. "What the hell?" Atty mumbled while wincing in discomfort as he rose from off the ground.
 
Thalia Harris

Thalia hesitantly followed the boy inside his house. She noticed he seemed to avoid his living room, which made her curious as to why he did in the first place. But she minded her business and kept herself in his path. The girl didn’t say a word. She distanced herself from him, but not so they were too far apart from each other.

Thalia eyed the counters and the appliances on the kitchen counter. It was obvious that they were not new, but they were nicely kept, so they weren’t rusted. But overall, Thalia was slightly fascinated by the quality of the house. It was a nice space; something she definitely wasn’t used to.

She watched the boy grab a kettle and fill it with water before setting it down on a stand. She stood in the middle of the kitchen awkwardly, preparing herself for any questioning he might do; not that she would go into detail with her replies. It was quiet for a while before the boy decided to introduce himself to her; she could her how awkward he must’ve been feeling from the tone of his voice.

“I’m Thalia.” She spoke with a soft voice.

WhipDing WhipDing
 

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