far from home

“Why would I have even knocked? I didn’t think someone else would’ve been here.” Kai admitted as he looked at the other human. “Nothing,” He mumbled, “I didn’t know everything was taken, or almost taken.” He said with a shrug. He was after everything. He was desperate, desperate for anything that he could use as a weapon. “I got better places to look, I’m not lookin’ for a fight.”

        “’Cause it’s the polite thing to do when a door’s locked,” she sighed, shrugging as she turned to study the hulking man. She crossed her arms over her chest, a single blade still in her hand that she was hoping she wouldn’t need, but you couldn’t be too safe. “Yeah, unless you’re after some sweaty old boxin' gloves or a few five-pound weights there’s not much here for ya.”

❝ Ain’t that grand. But I didn’t ask. ❞ Finger caressed the trigger of the pistol raised, barrel pointed down at the stranger’s knees. It was an unexpected sight, the building’s surrounding scouted, seemingly abandoned, yet there she stood. ❝ What I’m after isn’t any of your business. Just move to the side- Your precious belongings are safe. ❞

        Andi bristled at the other’s tone, turning slightly to face her with a knife and a rag still in hand. Of course she had a gun - everybody had a gun, and leave it to Andi to leave her own gun tucked safely away the one time she might actually need something other than a knife. “Look hun, ya can have a look around - won’t find anythin’ interestin’, i’m sure - but I ain’t movin’ anywhere.”

The abandoned gym was fairly close enough that Haley could enter it without much of a problem. Little by little she had been venturing farther and farther outside of the allies territory to get herself more comfortable with the area. The gym had been one of those places she had yet to look and even though she knew that there wouldn’t be any books she needed, a part of her hoped there would be a first aid kit running around, but of course there was someone already there. “I’m not looking for trouble, I just thought it was empty here,” she announced.

        Andi turned to face the stranger, the knife she’d been cleaning still in her hand as she studied the woman. She didn’t look particularly threatening, but then again she knew plenty of people that would’ve said the same about her. “Lookin’ or not, trouble’s what ya found, hun.  and ya didn’t answer my question.” She paused for a moment, listening for any sounds that might suggest the other wasn’t alone. “What’re ya after?”

Knife in hand, Lara was ready to defend herself should anyone be in what seemed to be a completely abandoned gym. Letting her guard down after she found it was Andi standing before her and not someone else, Lara put her knife away. “That sounds exactly like something someone would say to get people to leave a place and keep all the thing to themselves, y’know?”

        A small grin tugged at the corner of her lips as she turned to face the other, slipping her own knife back into the sheath on her wrist. She and Lara were on good enough terms that Andi didn’t expect a fight, least of all over some rundown gym equipment. “By all means, if ya want a worn out punchin' bag or some of those rubber-coated weights, have at ‘em. Hell, might even be a pair of shorts lyin’ around somewhere if ya wanna look.”

The other’s comment caused Ben’s body to tense as he’d hoped the place he’d busted into would have been empty, but of course, with his luck, it wasn’t. “You know what I don’t miss about the ‘good ol’ days’? Having to pretend to have manners because it was 'expected’ of us.” He said with a small chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. However, what she didn’t know was that back then, he had manners because he wanted to have them. “Before I tell you that, you should know that lock wasn’t going to hold shit. One little bobby pin popped it open. But honestly? I’m here looking for booze. Wasn’t sure if I’d find any, but hey, it’s worth a shot right?”

        Andi rolled her eyes as she turned towards the intruder, giving him a quick once over. She couldn’t come up with a decent retort - honestly she knew more people that shared his opinion than hers, and really she only missed the illusion of privacy knocking gave. She couldn’t help but grin slightly as she shrugged. “Parents taught me many things, but I can’t say they raised a locksmith. I don’t quite know why ya’d check a gym for liquor, but there might be a few bottles of whiskey and at least a mason jar and a half of moonshine. Though unless you’ve brought a ladder or ya have some basketball-level jumping skills?” She shrugged again, shaking her head. “Can’t help ya.”

( WILLA HOLLAND, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER ) —— [ ALYX ANDROMEDA “ANDI” REISS ] is a [ TWENTY-THREE ] year old that has been part of the [ LONERS ] for [ TWO ] weeks. The people in Boulder say that [ SHE ] is [ MERCIFUL ] but also [ AUDACIOUS ]. Lets see what this wasteland has in store for them.

you know what i love? established apocalypse aesthetics

leaves and flowers and trees growing out of abandoned houses and cars, smashing glass windows, invading and reclaiming the spaces humanity took from them

warning scrawled hastily on the sides of buildings in spraypaint or in blood; don’t come here, it’s not safe. turn away, go back. we died here. you will too.

notes and messages scattered across the world, addressed to people who never saw them or never lived to reply to them. rachel, we’re alive. david, don’t look for us. amy, dad got bit, please come home, we need you. kim, i love you. 

people broken into tiny groups. society shattered. they are past the anger, past denial, past trying to fix any of it. now there is only begrudging acceptance, and the knowledge that nothing is ever going to get better. the only thing they can do is survive.

a skeleton lying at the foot of a tree, flowers blooming in its ribcage. a bloodstained note in its front pocket. ‘sorry, mom’. travelers see it and barely spare a thought; such things are commonplace.

roaming packs of dogs and cats still wearing their collars, centuries of domestication breaking down under the need to live and to keep living

families born of blood and sacrifice. trading stories over campfires about who they used to be, who they might have been, what they could have become if none of this ever happened. looks of understanding when someone loses a sister, a brother, a father. it happened to me, too.

abandoned bedrooms combed over for supplies, but the faded posters still hanging on the walls and the useless knickknacks on the shelves tell the stories of the people who lived there years ago