( * NO PRESSURE.

His high is gone and his head is pounding and the girl who wandered unannounced into his shitty camp, was judging him. If it had been a rotter instead he would’ve been more grateful, at least that situation he could easily deal with. A small whimper escapes his throat as his head falls back down onto the sleeping bag. Words aren’t coming yet and he feels bad she had to see him like this. Needle in the dirt, face pale and breathing slow. To make matters worse, Kevin knows the girl, knows her name it made him feel worse.

“A-apollo?” His voice is weak and his eyes are fluttering back shut as he speaks. “’M sorry ” she was a nice girl, a really nice girl and although she had no attachments to him, he cared about her. Unfortunately Kevin had this habit of caring about anyone he spent time with, unless they were real assholes (hell even if they were assholes). He didn’t want to see her hurt, didn’t want her to see him like this, didn’t want her pity. “ ’s okay -pollo” His voice is heavy with sleep and he can barely make sense of what he’s saying. Hell maybe he is still high, wouldn’t be all too surprising. He did…a lot last night, he wasn’t an idiot, not enough to overdose but a lot nonetheless. “I’m not dead, coulda been d-dead but ’m not” He turns to face her, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he struggles to keep his eyes open enough to see her. Did she sleep there? Watching him? Watching him breathe? It was almost a creepy thought but in retrospect it definitely was not intentional for her to have been…in a way protecting him. It just didn’t make sense, he was nothing, he was garbage, he was a disgusting addict who deserved nothing but the jaws of rotters crunching through his bones. His gaze shifts to the one place he can tell she refuses to look. The needle, haphazardly thrown into the dirt told a tale of his Desperation to get high. Of his frantic search through his kit to get his tools and shoot up. Shaking fingers had missed the vein twice in the near dark and the entire area throbbed still. He swallows hard and sits up again. “ I’m living just fine and” he gestures around painfully, wincing a bit as he extends his arm. “This is a safe place.”

Much of what Apollo can recognize in the light of the early morning, as a habit, is studied once, twice, thrice... She’s come across walkers in this state before, when she’s rendered as helpless — and it isn’t something she likes to remind herself about, but that’s how she finds herself sitting up and looking at everything... JUST LOOKING, and she swipes hair away from her forehead as she attempts to speak to him — kindly, patiently. “It’s fine... it’s fine — are you...” Apollo wants to ask if he’s alive, if he’s breathing. This is a woman who has zero experience in bringing back people to life ; how she acquired her name is due to how well she spreads illnesses, but this isn’t one of those. The only thing she can spread here is the never-ending nihilism... she’s a few breaths away from telling Kevin that he WILL die if he keeps this up. Apollo doesn’t know him well enough to say that yet. 

“1. Don’t mess with Sunshine 2. Don’t mess IRRITATE me ”

Those were the rules Lucky adhered others to, once broken, he leaves himself with two options: ONE, walk away ( not because he was afraid of conflict, some people were simply not WORTH his time ), TWO, react ( usually with a string of well orchestrated cuss words, or violence. But mostly the two were used in synchronization ). And when some lone wolf miserably tried to steal from him, he was gonna let him leave with no harm done, but he HAD to shove Sunshine out of his way for his great escape. That’s when Lucky saw it fit to run after him, tackling him to black asphalt. And after a few swift punches to the face, he figured the now unconscious man had learned his lesson. He scooted away from the body, petting Sunshine behind her ears. It was a sitcom moment really ( if sitcoms took place in a world of MAYHEM ), as if they all triumphed over their troubles, and were now gonna walk off into the sunset. Maybe that was what was going to happen, if Sunshine didn’t bark at a survivor, who was doing a bad job of making themselves hidden. Their gaze lingering from the body next to him to focusing on Lucky. He narrowed his eyes, “What?” he snapped, “the little shit deserved it.”

What alerted the dog to her presence? Perhaps it had something to do with the way that she reeked of ANXIETY. It’s clear on Apollo’s face as she tries to explain the reason of her being here — it’s clear as she stands up straighter, presses lips together in a thin line as her eyes dart from the man, the dog, the unconscious man on the floor and back again. “I didn’t say that he didn’t.” People deserve what was coming to them but Apollo doesn’t have the slightest clue as to what the man did to deserve THAT sort of violence... and frankly, she doesn’t want to ask either. “I’m not judging — I bet he did something really awful.” She’s awkward, oh god, she’s so awkward. Much of it is because she doesn’t know what else to say. Does she reassure him that she won’t do something awful too? The dog is what she’s focusing on, really. “What’s her name?” Apollo gestures to the dog, almost cautiously. What else was she supposed to do? 

“ Well you could make it easy on yourself and apologize or  we could be here all day, your call”, could Arabella be any more petty? ( yeah she could) but honestly she could just admit her mistake and let the poor girl go, she didn’t have to ruin everyone’s day just because hers wasn’t going as planned but yet she did it anyways. “ And I’d choose to apologize if I were you because it looks like you could use the rest honey.” the girl looked tired but wasn’t everyone a bit tired after two years of having zombies roam the earth?. Arabella didn’t care if they called her sweetheart in the most sarcastic way or any other name for the matter, she was used to it all and it even amused her by this point in her life because it just seemed that no one couldn’t come up with anything better. “ Oh I understand it don’t worry there but really just think of what you want and the sooner you apologize the earlier I’ll be out of your way”

“Why is it MY call when you were the one who wasn’t even paying attention —” Now, it seems a little ... subjective. Who bumped into whom? Apollo usually retreats. In fact, it’s all she does. Except this particular scenario makes her rethink her past actions. Something about it is unsettling... perhaps it has something to do with the girl and this attitude of hers that seems OUT OF PLACE in a time like this. There’s no need for this but Apollo doesn’t budge. “You know what, you’re right. I DO need the rest especially after this because it’s like I’ve come across a teenage girl masquerading around like a child.” She resists the urge to apologize, she resists the urge to raise her voice. Apollo isn’t one of those people. “I don’t really have to be somewhere right now so I got time —” 

Vanessa understands the need to leave, though she doesn’t practise it herself. She understands that different people require different things, that it’s okay to leave. Her life has been full of people who’ve left and the ones who came back were some of the most important. “No, a ghost haunts. Don’t see you as the haunting kind.” Vanessa knows what she means but doesn’t play along, she doesn’t want to further the negativity that can lay between the g and the t of ghost. The spectral silent nothing of the unseen and the unheard. Apollo is nothing like that, not to Vanessa. She’s so good, that’s all that Mama can focus on. Her energy is full of sorrow and regret, all things that Vanessa doesn’t want to sense in Apollo’s company. “Sometimes we have to go and that’s okay, the most important thing is that we come back. I don’t know where you went or why but I do hope… I hope it gave you what you needed, baby, I do.” She’s looking at Apollo like a mother would, like a mightily missed daughter who has finally returned. “Oh we can forget the gardenin’, sweetpea.” Her gloves are forgotten beside her, piling themselves neatly at her feet as they are dropped. “C’mere. I’ve missed you for too long, Apollo.” Her arms are outstretched to this modern twist on the prodigal son returning. 

italia felt RIDICULOUS , paying little attention to her surroundings. she neglected her left && right , focused on the back && she had missed the bigger picture. her feet were hidden behind the wheel of one of the cars ; an easy feat for someone as small as her. every sound caught her ears , the sound of FABRIC rubbing against fabric , the rapid beating of her own heart. her hazel eyes looked up at the other. a million reasons to tell her to f*ck off dancing at the back of her mind. but logic prevails , the brunette looking behind them in the direction of her safe home. “&& where do you suggest we go ? pretty sure everything with a beating heart has a GUN attached to their hip          && a bullet is damn hard to outrun.”

apollo runs out of patience as quick as a dead brother runs out of persistence that one day, if he asked and asked and asked, his parents would buy him the new playstation 4. which is to say, she never does — even if she understands the young survivor’s retort as a negative, apollo resists the urge to roll her eyes. one, because she can’t bring herself to talk back to someone younger than she is. two, her ears pick up on more footsteps... more voices... more GUNS. “there’s a building just a few meters away. how fast can you run?” without much to say, apollo quiets down and begins half-jogging, half-walking. “if we make it there, maybe we CAN outrun them.” it doesn’t hurt to try... she thinks. 

                         daphne sat alone in the hotel lobby, with her gun sitting on the coffee table and her brain P O U N D I N G inside her head. with her headache, the lights were bright and blinding, but she did her best to ignore the pain. it was one of those nights, where she’d awaken from an horrifying NIGHTMARE about her parents, usually in the middle of the night or sometimes hours after, then she wouldn’t be able to sleep because of it. ❝ hey, ❞ daphne called out as she noticed someone walk by her. ❝ i know i’m not supposed to be here at a time like this, but i had the n i g h t m a r e s again and i couldn’t… i can’t sleep. ❞ she looked down at the ground as she played with a piece of thread she tugged out from the sofa. ❝ just a random question, but, do you think we’ll ever get out of this MESS ? ❞ she asks. ❝ like, is it possible that maybe someday, someone—one of us, or anyone—is going to find some kind of C U R E ? i know it sound far-fetched, but do you think it could happen ? ❞

she feels bad. oh god, does she FEEL SO BAD. this kid must think that she’s a part of the camp ( not that apollo can blame her — her wandering, her search for the exit has lead to this ) and her silence... her silence is the only answer she can give. the look on her face is one of fatigue, and later on - with a brow raised at her question - of sympathy. “hey.” she greets back, walking to them with feigned confidence. apollo can feel her frog-heart attempt to leap from her chest and out of her mouth, taking in the features of the young girl. “anything can happen.” it’s such a BORING answer but what else is she supposed to say? apollo doesn’t want to lie. “i think a cure isn’t so far-fetched of an idea... you should drink milk, if you have some. might help you fall back to sleep.”

She found him like that, and the cans that she assumes that were supposed to alert him of any movement during the night wasn’t any of Apollo’s work. Her nightmares ( long since gone - the last time she remembers them so vividly ) are never ending ; in them, Apollo relives the days of her adolescence. She pictures what she hears in the news of her family’s demise, from what she remembers upon stepping out of the bus. It’s how she finds herself walking out of camp with ease, momentarily forgetting the things that could go wrong with them. That’s how she came across him — Kevin. The kid whom she found the cassette tapes with ; one of the other survivors that she spent time with due to the siren. Without the light, Apollo wouldn’t have recognized him at all... much less see his surroundings. When she slumps against a tree to sit, she doesn’t seem to get a grasp of her own thoughts. There isn’t much about the kid that she TRUSTS, much less understands — and it isn’t as if she feels a responsibility. Either way, when morning comes Apollo wakes with raised brows. She’s almost as surprised —- she isn’t back in camp. 

( @aeglctes )

              ❝ No way —- ! ❞ she blinks, once, twice ; trying to form some clarity over the illusion ( or, it must obvious be an illusion, shouldn’t it?  ) forming in front of her ; how else can she describe the SPECTRE? the phantasm, the familiar that was there and suddenly — just an opaque mirage lost in a memory of condolence & comfort. But —- she’d know that flash of blonde hair, and most particularly, that voice in any place, any time, any universe, she’d know it, because it’s one she’s confided in, the one she’s shared laughter with, and the one that belongs to her BEST FRIEND, and not only that title, but a higher worth — someone who meant more to Indiana than — FLOWERS! ( mark it down in history, this is one for her future autobiography.  ) it’s the sound of normalcy – she certainly didn’t think she could forget the goddamn APOCALYPSE, nor her mistakes, with a single packet of oreos & company, but – the living proof is right in front of her, isn’t it?  is it still the same? is SHE still the same? 

          ❝ Apollo? ❞ there, if you listen closely you can hear it all — the quiver, the question ( no, the questions ; plural. ) and the silence that screamed with disbelief & perplexity  ; she hardly even notices the steps she takes to cross the distance to tumble her over throw her arms over Apollo.  ❝ Where have you —– Are you okay?  ❞ like she gives her time to answer ; Indiana pulls away just long enough to quadruple check she actually tackled the right person ; before her expressions brightens into a mixture of — joy? No, it’s mostly RELIEF. ❝ — I missed you. ❞                                                                                                    

Apollo calls out for whom she assumes to be Indiana — and for the time being ( as time itself freezes in order to give the woman seconds, and perhaps, minutes, to take in the scene before her ), she begins to come up with an explanation that doesn’t seem too... fake, too upsetting, too... too... too MUCH. Indiana deserves an explanation — she is, after all, Apollo’s best friend. You don’t leave her behind without telling her WHY, and in every lifetime and universe in which Apollo finds herself in the arms of Indiana... the brunette deserves more than just a silly, little sentence. She deserves a kinder and beautiful world — not THIS, never THIS. When she recognizes her voice ( that ‘ no way !! ’ that plants her feet to the ground, almost clears her entire soul of an anxiety that threatens to retreat more than ever ), Apollo can’t help it but... but smile. She SMILES ; it’s laced with apology, warmth, regret and most importantly? Love. 

“I missed you too —” It’s quiet and it’s said so because Apollo’s afraid. She’s afraid that an acknowledgement of Indiana, right here before her with her arms all around her ( and she can’t breathe but maybe that has something to do with how NERVOUS she is ), would result in the whole thing being a... a dream. One of those dreams that turn into nightmares. In an effort to keep the tears from coming, Apollo hugs her best friend back with as much force — and she almost never wants to let go of her. “I’m sorry I left. I know I shouldn’t — I know I should’ve told you.” She takes a deep breath, wishing that fragility wasn’t something that ran in the family that only seemed to appear in HER genes. “I thought of you everyday, you know that? You’re the reason why I came back —-” It’s too MUCH, it’s difficult to talk about and it hurts. 

Cheyenne, a place Arabella really could never call home but yet no matter how hard she tried to stay away she always kept coming back… The only people she knew were here and after not knowing anything from her brother in what? four months?? She had yet again lost all hope in seeing her brother again and for Arabella to keep hope for more than a month was quite something.. All her thinking had completely forced her to pay no attention to whereas she was walking and before she knew it she had bumped into another survivor ( great, couldn’t they watch where they were going? ) and to be even better they had just caught her on a day where she wasn’t feeling nice but then again when did she ever?. “ I’d say I’m sorry but I really am not so better watch where you’re going okay honey? ” the girl spoke as she turned around to face the stranger. 

Her flight instincts kick in and she’s compelled to say, ‘ yeah – sorry. MY fault. ’ and continue on her way, but Apollo’s not having a good day either. It’s certainly NEW to see her in such a mood, one that she’s not usually in. Even then, she tries to keep up a front. What she’s concerned for the rest of the day is to get past walkers and survivors like this one... without getting harmed. The other woman is met with a look of fatigue, “I’m not up to apologizing to someone who CLEARLY walked right into me in the first place.” It’s not said out of malice – Apollo’s just annoyed. “I think you’ll understand my point of view, sweetheart.” 

“In the apocalypse? What, ya got a doctor’s appointment?” Ettie laughed softly and shrugged her shoulders. “Y’sure? Ya don’t wanna just try it on to see?”

“Actually, that’s right.” Apollo quips, and it comes to her naturally. She even adds a smile, one that’s so close to laughter. This little encounter is FUNNY — it’s different from the ones she’s usually come across, trapped in. The way her mind works? Quite different from the works of a Romantic composer. It takes a while; three full measures of RESTS as she decides. “I’m not really a fan of... flowers.” 

Her lips purse at the girl’s words, she does have such a way with saying things that pull at the strong boughs that criss-cross her heart. “You know I don’t want to be hearing that, you’re not going to make any kind of ghost.” Vanessa pulls off one of her gloves finger by finger, it gives her more time to gauge her little darling. Apollo was such a sweet little thing, a heartbreaker if she ever knew one. In Vanessa’s mind, that title was given to the wrong people. Heartbreakers were usually involved in romantic relationships, heartless people (usually boys) that left the kind in the dust. That didn’t break Vanessa’s heart, she was too clever for those games. What broke her heart, what truly devastated her was the kind who didn’t know quite what they were worth. And thus her motivations were made more clear in needing to protect the type of people who could hurt her. A gloved hand held its soil-dusted counterpart, her now bare hand finding Apollo’s cheek. “I don’t need apologies from you, you know that.” And with that her hand had left, having made sure her ghost girl was still warm, the weather in Cheyenne not affording the soft-hearted much warmth. “How are you doing, baby? –And if you want to help, you can tell me what greens you’d like to see around here. Don’t really know where I want to start.” 

It’s the type of welcome that furthers Apollo’s guilt. This feeling seems IMMENSE now, even more when she understands Mama’s retort to her own. A small smile tugs at her lips, dry from dehydration. It serves as Apollo’s reminder to find water — but not so much to remind her of the little reasons as to why she came back to the VA. The biggest one? It stands before her: the maternal love of a woman that she has never known for long, that she has known for a few months. “It’s pretty fitting though, I think.” No, it’s not ❛ I THINK ❜ — it’s ❛ I KNOW SO ❜. But Mama seems to divert from this and Apollo lets it go too. “I just thought,” She begins and there’s a slight tremor to her voice. “It was time to say it. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t think I could but I did — I’m sorry.” Her dyed blonde hair, now slowly turning back to its original colour, is swept back in reply. “I’m...” A big sigh, and a smile. Like a child proving to their mother that nothing is wrong. “I’m SURVIVING... And I don’t really know that much about gardening, Mama. I think you’re better off asking someone else.” 

“You don’t think you can do that or you don’t want to?” Saskiah spoke, tightening her grip around the gun and straightening her stance. It wouldn’t be ideal to fire her weapon in the dark, far from her campsite but if that was what she had to do, she’d do it. Beside, if infected came to them, she’d just climb to a tree and hide there until daylight. “Why should I trust you?”

“Both.” True to herself, isn’t she? As soon as the word stumbles out of her mouth, she regrets it — she WISHES that she had something... more convincing. Yet what else is there to convince when she’s standing here, a cardigan to keep her from freezing to death and flashlight pointing at the other survivor with a WEARY look on her face? Can they not tell how much she wishes to be asleep somewhere safe? No, probably not. “I’m not asking you to trust me —” It’s quiet. If anything, Apollo’s surprised that this is a thought. “Not when anything I say, I know you won’t believe it.” She lowers the light, “If you let me go, scratch-free, then you’ll know that I was telling the truth.” 

her eyes narrowed at the blonde , finding herself puzzled by her WORDS. and it scared her. almost. they weren’t alone. meaning that she didn’t have just one body to worry about ; but more. ‘       fuck. ’ she swore , suddenly feeling EXPOSED in a way that was foreign to her. she always had walls surrounding her , one way in and out to guard. her first instinct was to duck into cover ( a car a few feet away ) , holding the gun close to her chest. if SHOTS were to be fired , then she’d be semi-safe. the restaurant wasn’t too far. she could sprint towards it , but with the amount of infected surrounding the area , bullets would be the last of her problems. she barely paid attention to the blonde at this point , FOCUSED on trying to find the source of the noise.

she’s a little older than most kids apollo is used to seeing, and she feels this tug at her heart. it’s small, it disappears right away but it was there... something to do with dread, as it paints her face in the moment that the word fuck is said. apollo turns her head slightly, aware of the girl — whoever she is, whatever her intentions are, it doesn’t matter. what matters is how she’s going to get out of here. “hey —” she hears another sound. rustling of leaves? shuffling of feet? apollo’s panicking but she hears it nonetheless. “i’m just trying to get home. you don’t have to be afraid of me.” she purposely keeps her hands to her sides; apollo doesn’t flinch, not so much anymore anyways. “but whatever that was, it’s a LIVING and we can’t stay here.” it’s almost a whisper; assertive, as if it’s true. apollo doesn’t really know — she’s only GUESSING. 

“ HISTORY OF THE ENTIRE WORLD , I GUESS ” STARTERS ( PART 1 )

you’re on a rock floating in space.

i can’t even get from here to there without buying a boat.

how did this happen?

nothing is nowhere.

it’s so everywhere you don’t need a where.

i wanna be something. go somewhere. do something.

i want to invent time and space.

i think there’s a universe now.

quarks and stuff.

aw that’s a thing in a place.

new shit just got made!

something’s alive in the ocean.

now you can eat sunlight!

taste the sun!

the sun is a deadly lazer.

not anymore, there’s a blanket!

there’s no food yet so i don’t care.

don’t worry about it, does it all the time.

that’s a human person!

i control the food now.

now everyone will want to be my friend and live near me!

coming soon to a dank river valley near you.

why is all my metal so lame and lumpy?

my dealer won’t tell me where he gets it.

you could make a religion out of this!

aw the buddha was just enlightened!

he was great. and now he’s dead.

It had been another sleepless night. Avoiding the demons in Saskiah’s sleep came with a price: exhaustion. Still, she preferred enduring the heaviness of exhaustion rather than the imprisonment of her soul once she’d glue her eyes shut. The night was usually an ally to her sleeping disorder so Saskiah usually settled for going to sleep a little before the day would have to get started. The woman was roaming through the dark environnement, her mind alert for any sort of movement. She had been doing this for quite some time so she didn’t worry but she definitely felt someone’s presence. Saskiah made it seem like she wasn’t aware of that person until she got to a safer place of the area. “If you have a weapon, I suggest you drop it. Now.” She spoke in a hushed tone, her holding her gun in front of her, ready to fire.

She relives the worst day of her life every night. It’s a nightmare that never ends and, seemingly, it continues to change — TRANSFORM into something that keeps her awake. Apollo doesn’t have anyone to whisper these secrets to ( secrets that, if truth be told, are better kept to herself... it’s a matter of life or death, right? trust isn’t something that... exists here anymore ) and she hopes that, at least, by the time she makes it back to the camp that most of these memories are gone... They ARE but they’re replaced with something else entirely. Apollo’s flashlight is in her hand and at the sound of a voice, she’s caught startled and a bright light emits to show a woman. A woman... and she has a gun. “I don’t think I can do that.” Apollo swallows her anxiety. “I’m not going to give you trouble —” 

❝ i wonder if the THEORY that — if you weighed all the earthworms in the united states, they’d be about FIFTY FIVE times heavier than the combined weight of all americans — is still applicable given that roughly most of the population has been turned into walkers… isn’t that weird ?? ❞ his eyes squinted as he looked at the horizon line; sun set in three hours — he needed shelter yet he was too proud to ASK for it.  ❝ do you have some bubblegum, you know the moisture content in chewing gum is low so it’s NOT REQUIRED to have an expiration date. maybe we could just survive off of that. ❞

KIDS — a kid —- and apollo wants to retreat. in fact, her face is almost a clean slate, free of emotion... but she hears the end of this supposed theory and she quirks a brow. is that not a reaction? is that not an indication for the kid to keep talking? ( and she reminds him of a dog, really — yaps and yaps and yaps; does he not get tired of this? ) apollo envies him. “it still doesn’t have the enough of the nutrients that you REALLY need to survive,” she doesn’t want to make him feel bad, so instead... she presses lips together in a thin small grin. “you still need your canned vegetables, meat. i have... i have starburst though?” 

Ettie sat in a patch of grass, small flowers around her that had been naturally growing. She picked them delicately, weaving them all together to form a crown once she’d finished. However, half way through, she heard a branch snap behind her. Dropping her work, she grabbed her knife and turned around, sighing once she noticed it was another person. She knew people could be dangerous but she wasn’t in any mood to care right now, going right back to weaving her daisy chain. “You’d look good with this, y’know.” She commented. “Why don’ ya sit with me? I don’t bite.”

Apollo’s intention is to change directions, to walk to the other direction and hopefully not catch the attention of the survivor sitting a mile away... up until the branch under her foot CRACKS and it screws up a plan that’s only taken a few seconds —- she’s not one that you would call a sly quick-thinker but she manages. That is how she’s survived so far. Almost immediately, Apollo feels her soul COIL. She pushes fear aside but it manages to come back up — come back up when the question is posed. “I have to be somewhere.” She says ; and yet? Apollo feels... a tad disappointed. She would rather expect a walker than a... seemingly friendly face, crown of flowers in their hand. “Maybe —” A little after thought. “Next time...?”