ARS * / MORIENDI !

・ ˖  ✦ ⋄ . HELLS TASK 002 : aesthetic. 

you seem like you’re capable. he COULD be. on a good day. when he was motivated. when he wasn’t tired. when adrenaline sought out his veins and tore through them quickly. but was really … none of those things right now. he just wanted to curl up and SLEEP for awhile. ignore the dead. ignore the living. he knew he wouldn’t be able to with so many dead floating around outside his door though. it wasn’t FAIR. he’d been having such a quiet night. “ i ain’t got any luck ‘round me. i’ll DIE real fast out here. ” maybe it was an attempt to get her to HELP him. maybe he just wanted some damn company. he couldn’t quite figure out why his feet had followed after her in the first place. he wasn’t one to drag others into danger with him. “ but … ye shouldn’t have to deal with all’a them either. so i’ll let ye go and … maybe i’ll see ye ‘round at some point. if iMAKE IT. ”

this   is   a   monologue,   minji   thinks,   it   has   to   be.   the   driver   stops   in   her   tracks,   brown   hues   squinting   at   the   view   before   her   while   her   ears   perk   up   at   what   she   immediately   decides   to   be   BULLSHIT.   this   is   a   man   who   had   threatened   her   …   and   maybe   it’s   her   distrustful   nature,   but   she   doesn’t   think   he’s   that   …   bad   at   surviving   a   horde.   “what   are   you   doing?”   she   questions,   “why   are   you   talking   like   that?   i   –“   minji   shakes   her   head,   “–   a   horde   like   that?   um…   uh,   i   think   –   i   think   you   ‘   making   it   ’   would   just   be   a   dream,   now.”  

Hatred festers within her, cresting at the ridge of whatever self-control Waverly can still lay claim to in light of that little outburst. The thought of surrendering even just a fraction of her agency to satisfy Minji’s demands sets her on edge. Hasn’t she contended with enough bad memories for today? Apparently not because here she is, ready to act as someone else’s DOLL again; it’s not Thalia or Noah with their hand on the crank this time but Minji Gun in all her condescending glory, ready to wind her to life and tell her in which direction to twirl in. She squares her jaw.

Not too late to shoot her in the leg, you know. Give the biters something to chew on for a bit.

It’s a stroke of luck that the renewed sound of bullets tears through the shop when it does, giving her cause enough to flip back the switch on survival mode. She blows out a low breath and regroups. Better to be caught between a rock and a hard place than a pack of biters and some jackass hillbillies. Waverly lowers her gun and brushes past Minji to take her place at the front, lips drawn in a thin straight line as she begins moving forward, hoping for both their sakes that the other girl knows better than to press her luck for a second time. Forgiveness wasn’t wired into her nature and neither was patience for that matter.

“Keep it up, sweetheart,” she calls over her shoulder, tone wry. “You might just have a future in the raider business once this is through. Who knows – maybe we’ll end up bunkmates.”

minji   flinches   at   the   term   of   endearment,   she   flinches   at   every   word   out   of   her   mouth.   she   doesn’t   appreciate   that   joke   ...   not   because   it   is   tasteless   or   said   in   a   rather   inappropriate   time,   but   because   it   rings   familiar.   she   is   not   fit   to   be   a   survivor,   at   least   not   the   kind   that   is   welcomed   into   the   manor,   but   it   has   never   really   crossed   her   mind   that   she   could   be   fit   enough   to   be   a   raider   until   she   had   been   caught.   caught,   like   a   deer   in   headlights.   violence   is   not   something   that   her   own   hands   are   capable   of   (   she   knows   it,   though   ...   her   hands   have   met   violence   and   she   momentarily   tugs   the   sleeve   of   her   shirt   ),   and   threats   are   meaningless   coming   from   the   mouth   of   a   part-mute   and   part-ghost   of   a   living   person   ...   but   she’s   been   told   that   before,   and   now   these   things   are   questioned.   the   conversation   is   one   that   minji   isn’t   sure   that   she   could   remember   now,   and   certainly,   this   doesn’t   persuade   her   into   giving   in   to   a   strange   man’s   proposition.

“don’t   call   me   that,”   the   young   woman’s   voice   is   a   squeak,   a   quiet   little   thing   that   will   surely   get   lost   among   the   noise.   she   searches   her   pockets   again   for   the   car   keys,   “i   don’t   want   to   be   in   any   business.”   so   leave   me   alone.   “i’d   like   this   to   be   the,   uh   ...   the   LAST   TIME   i   ever   see   you.”   

ODD is a word too simple, too b l a n d to attach to her name. but what other term can he use ? she’s a silent being, all cold stares and short words. she gives little of herself to be comprehended – and perhaps that’s not what she craves. perhaps the shadows and the MYSTERY are what she’s more interested in: not everyone likes being deciphered. and he can get behind that, really; comprehend the need to blend in with the curves of a question mark. he himself prefers that: most people t h i n k they know him, but few have ever caught real glimpses of the man behind the charming smiles and soothing words. it’s no fault of theirs, truly; he’s just…BETTER. wired with more complexity, more alert – P E R S P I C A C I O U S. their stupidity is merely a byproduct of their upbringing, of their inferiority. he doesn’t think minji differs from the bunch as much as she believes she does. 

he knows the roads. he knows the STREETS and the winding alleys. he knows which way they’re heading and he knows about the intersection. he’s a fucking moderator and one that spends most of his time OUTSIDE of camp. working. working for them. working for his own benefit. he has dealings in every corner of boulder county. he knows the intersection. he just plays D U M B, because if she’s keen on spending QUALITY TIME with him, there’s something she wants. would her intentions be violent ? if they are, he’s not worried. he’ll end her life and blame a s t r a n g e r. he’ll take the body back with him so amal can bury her. HELL, he’ll even cry at her funeral. he’ll blame himself. he’ll say he wasn’t careful. he’ll say it should have been him. and they’ll forgive him, because while they’ll miss the little driver her foul stares and horrid imagination push people away, and they’ll forget about her. but theo ? charming, charismatic, HELPFUL theo ? the damn peacekeeper ? oh, they’ll be glad it was HER and not HIM. minji pulls over on a driveway. he considers the option of her wanting to abandon him there – it’s always in the cards. he nods regardless and opens the door, but before climbing out he looks at her. ❝ thanks, i appreciate it, ❞ one leg off the vehicle and he turns back, ❝ you don’t need to explain anything to anyone if you don’t want to. claire will know regardless. ❞

of   course,   all   it   takes   for   minji   to   lose   her   nerve   is   eye   contact.   she   mistakenly   looks   to   him   at   the   same   time   he   decides   to   turn   back,   to   let   her   know   that   she   is   not   obligated   to   speak   about   anything   that   had   just   happened   to   them   in   the   past   hour   or   so   ...   that   ‘   claire   will   know   regardless   ’.   she   is   tempted   to   make   a   mockery   out   of   it   —   SHE   ALREADY   IS,   really,   by   how   she   nods   as   if   she   knows,   understands   a   word   out   of   his   mouth.   balfour   is   as   foreign   to   her   as   lionscrest   is   ...   and   her   anxiety   has   failed   her   numerous   times   in   learning   who   is   who.   but   her   anxiety   has   been   the   only   thing   that   can   be   trusted   :   it   has   taught   her   how   to   be   beside   herself,   to   rely   on   her   own   on   days   when   people   seem   to   be   more   dangerous   than   usual.   now,   though,   it   is   running   its   long   fingernails   across   her   skin   and   finding   places   to   dig   them   into   ...   deep   enough   to   draw   blood,   deep   enough   to   hit   a   bone.

“would   amal?”   isn’t   that   always   the   first   concern?   minji   hates   how   the   thought   comes   to   her,   but   she   hates   the   taste   of   the   leader’s   name   in   her   mouth   even   more.   there’s   an   awkward   silence   as   the   driver   tries   to   find   something   to   hold   onto,   to   grasp   as   not   to   let   this   flounder   any   further   than   it   seems   to   already   have.   she   clears   her   throat,   “she   might   think   that,   uh   ...   that   i   was   probably   the   one   who   did   something.”   oh,   but   now,   it   sounds   as   though   she   is   actively   blaming   him.   minji   doesn’t   feel   bad,   minji   is   blaming   him.   “might   question   me   ...   but   –”   a   slight   tilt   of   her   head,   looking   at   theo   through   the   corner   of   her   eyes.   “–   as   long   as   it   was   a   raider   ...   right?”  

sudden  offense  finds  it’s  place  on  porcelain  features   ;   wide  eyes,   mouth  agape.   of-freakin’-course  the  walker  would  find  herself  more   …   delectable   …   it  doesn’t  take  long  for  oona  to  scurry  from  it’s  path  and  closer  to  the  other.   ❝   um   …   you’re  welcome?   ❞   she  says,   eyes  narrowing  slightly.   the  eldest  sayer  child  is  not  exactly  f r i e n d l y   —   but  she  goes  after  what  she  deserves.   and  right  now  it’s  a  simple  ‘thanks’.   ❝   i  was  lookin  ahead  until  you  almost  became  bait.   ❞   she  tells  the  girl.   under  normal  circumstances,   oona  would  call  her  pretty.    but  she’s  in  no  mood  to  admit  that  now.   she’d  rather fight  off a  dozen  walkers.   ❝ so,   again,   you’re  welcome.   ❞

she   finds   herself   walking   alongside   the   girl,   and   it   throws   her   off   momentarily.   minji's   not   sure   what   brings   her   so   close   (   really,   she   would've   much   preferred   that   they   part   ways   ...   ),   but   now   there's   two   of   them   being   chased   by   some   lone   walker.   if   the   announcement   rings   true,   then   they'd   eventually   meet   a   horde.   how   exciting.  

a  bored,   dull  look  covers  delicate  features.   platinum  hair  is  a  mess,   tasseled  and  tangled  into  a  bun  on  the  top  of  her  head.   keeping  her  eye  out  as  she  walks  back  to  her  place,   green  eyes  spot  another  survivor.   it’s  not  her  job  to  protect  them,   she’s  half  tempted  not  to  say  anything  at  all  about  the  walker  on  their  tail.   but  her  conscience  wouldn’t  allow  for  that.   ❝ HEY!   คนบ้า!   ❞   a  huff  escapes  plump  lips.   ❝   look  behind  you.   didn’t  you  hear  the  announcement?   it’s  not  safe  out  here.   ❞   nevermind  the  fact  that  she’s  out,   unprotected  and  on  her  own. 

foreign   is   the   word   that's   directed   at   her   ;   it's   not   a   nice   word,   she   knows   that   enough   by   how   it's   said.   minji   finds   little   in   herself   to   be   offended,   much   less   care   —   did   she   know   about   the   biter   following   her?   ...   no   ...   but   minji   watches   silently   as   it   catches   the   sound   of   another   voice.   its   course   has   changed   somewhat.   the   young   woman   stares   at   the   little   girl   :   white-haired,   she   looks   like   an   actual   doll.   "look   ahead   of   you,"   she   says.   "maybe   next   time,   keep   your   voice   down."   and   just   like   that,   minji   continues   on   her   own   path   ...   she   doesn’t   have   time   for   this.

         “ i gotta brag about somethin’ in this world. and i’d say that’s a pretty brag-worthy accomplishment. ” it WASN’T but he didn’t really care at this point. he wasn’t sure he’d know this girl for much longer. she seemed EAGER to escape his presence and he couldn’t really blame her entirely. most days HE wanted to escape himself too. as she walked by him and pointed over her shoulder, patrick’s eyes widened and his heart DROPPED. they were CLOSE. he could hear them. “ oh shite. come ON. yer really gunna leave me here to deal with all’a them?? it sounds like at least fifty. ” at this point, he was moving after the girl quickly. he could have just vanished into his safe haven but he didn’t want to deal with the noises of the dead all damn night. 

has   she   mentioned   how   unimpressed   she   is?   minji   knows   that   she   should   be   nice   —   this   is   a   stranger   who   has   a   weapon,   who   shows   himself   to   be   someone   who   seems   to   be   as   apathetic   ...   and   those   who   are   apathetic   could   be   DANGEROUS.   she’s   learned   that,   she’s   been   told.   but   she   couldn’t   care   less.   her   ears   pick   up   the   sound   of   his   footsteps   and   she   turns   slightly,   seeing   him   in   the   corner   of   her   eye.   “what   do   you   want   me   to   do?”   she   says,   almost   condescendingly.   “you   seem   like   you’re   capable,”   a   pause.   “maybe   ...   maybe   you’re   a   lucky   man.”  

&& @arsmcriendis

there was a sense of comfort in minji gun ( in her own twisted way ) that tobio found. she’s not someone he’d ever find himself becoming the best of friends with, but tobio craved familiarity. so, when the two crossed paths again, he wanted to stick around. there was a very good chance he wouldn’t make it very long by himself, so if he was going to die, it might as well be around someone he knew— surely they’d have the decency to stop him from turning to a biter. he knew that his presence seemed to annoy her, so if he was around, he made sure to keep a distance and his mouth shut. 

when he told her to go away, he felt he had no choice but to obey no matter how much it hurt his feelings. he’d made camp for the night just a bit away from the lionscrest manor. he’d hardly gotten any sleep ( it’s harder from him to relax when he’s just out in the woods, so vulnerable ). by the time the sun rose again, he found himself waiting, as if he knew minji was going to show up again.

the   morning   routine   consisted   of   two   things   :   eat   breakfast   on   her   lonesome   and   check   the   vehicle   for   today’s   trip.   one   of   these   things,   minji   has   perfected   since   the   day   she   came   to   lionscrest   —   and   the   keys   in   her   pocket   made   a   rattling   noise   as   she   took   her   breakfast   to   where   she   usually   spent   the   time   until   being   called   over.   minji   would   rather   not   admit   it   but   maybe,   topher   was   right   about   the   wilderness.   it   seems   never ending   from   where   she   stands,   where   the   manor   stands   ...   and   maybe,   serenity   can   come   to   her   in   another   form   other   than   music   ...   only   for   it   to   be   shattered,   eyes   catching   the   glimpse   of   a   figure   not   far   away   from   here.   human,   but   is   it   alive?  

slowly,   she   walks   towards   it   with   little   to   no   apprehension.   hostility   coats   her   words   upon   recognition.   “are   you   kidding   me   ...   what   are   you   doing   here?”   the   day   had   just   began   and   already,   the   boy   is   already   getting   on   her   nerves   —   ruining   a   day   that   she   had   saved   for   something   else   to   ruin.   “what   about   ‘   go   away   ’   do   you   not   get?”

       it isn’t that eloise tries to be rude, it is more so that she is SICK of being underestimated in a world where she has worked so hard to prove herself. only nineteen, having had everything & having lost it, eloise felt that she had earned her place amongst the survivors, that she had every right to be a proud, valued member of her camp, and yet there were still people who didn’t care- who DISCREDITED her with something as simple and as impactful as a glance. a glance exactly like the one minji was gifting her oh so   g e n e r o u s l y. ❝ i suppose not, ❞ eloise cruelly replied, scrunching her nose as she began to bunch long, tangled tendrils in gloved palms, working an elastic band around the hair and securing it in a D I S A T E R O U S excuse of a ponytail. the hunter licks at her lips, tasting the bitterness of the other’s words as she almost threatens the younger, causing shoulders to rise up to her ears as each nerve in her body twitched : ❝ no need, YOU chased off my only decent kill. ❞ accusatory words sputtered from a disgruntled teen, who used long fingers to tug at the handle attached to the backdoor. eloise wanted to take her offer, accept the challenge, but her stamina had run dry and all she wanted to do now was SLEEP. ❝ i’m sure you would enjoy that…  next time, ❞ promised the brunette with adverted eyes, ducking her figure down and into the back seat as she recklessly tossed her bow and arrow on the torn interior besides her, using all her remaining force to slam the vehicles door.

an   intake   of   deep   breath   that   leaves   her   body   as   a   sigh.   exhaustion   makes   itself   known   to   her   by   taking   on   the   physical   body   of   a   teenage   girl   and   her   problems   :   she   takes   this   into   account   but   minji   is   an   aggressively   passive   woman   —   she's   not   a   therapist   and   she   refuses   to   make   friends   with   the   girl,   even   if   that   was   her   thing.   she   takes   the   hit,   though   ...   minji   knows   it   means   nothing   and   it   will   do   nothing.   she's   annoyed   but   minji   finds   herself   back   with   the   engine   awaiting   for   the   drive   to   the   manor.  

she   thinks   about   it   :   death   is   a   natural   occurence   that   every   living   thing   left   on   earth   will   have   to   go   through.   everyone   thinks   about   dying   ...   and   frankly,   minji   entertains   the   thought.   a   hint   of   a   scowl   on   her   lips   at   the   sight   of   the   girl   sitting   behind   her   ;   finding   her   corpse   in   the   filth   of   these   woods,   body   ransacked   for   meat   by   biter   hands   and   hard   teeth   would've   been   a   more   fun   trip   to   make   than   another   scavenger   run   for   medical   supplies.  

minds are ticking things with complex gears and notches. buttons. cables. though perhaps when they made HER any form of color had run out. minji gun is a series of blacks and greys and reds. her wiring is difficult to decipher. does she understand EVERYTHING ? or perhaps she understands NOTHING. she understands nothing and wishes she did. he’s not sure. he’s a good reader – an excellent one – but there are people that seem to hold some degree of complexity. call her S P E C I A L, for all it’s worth. this complication that arises with her causes absolutely nothing in theo. he’s not threatened. he’s not UNEASY. she’s a driver for amal’s camp and amal likes him just fine. claire would defend him, too. queens against a foot soldier – no, nothing to fear. minji gun is more of an…indulgence. 

his nails are scratching the dried blood off his skin. it’s DISGUSTING and he wishes for nothing more than water to cleanse it all away. he hates the mess. hates the clean up. hates discrepancies. the rogue was a loose end – now tied – and theo would not allow for more of those. today, it’s minji who witnessed it. tomorrow ? well, he’ll make damn sure there won’t be any room for tomorrows that involve mistakes. HE’S BETTER THAN THIS. the driver’s words make the scratching stop; theo clasps his hands together and leaves his eyes on the steering wheel. rigid, steady, s h a k e n. ❝ i don’t believe he was one of them. like i said, i only saw him once. ❞ not a complete lie, really. he sighs and leans back on the seat. ❝ how far away are we ? ❞

she’s   unsure   of   how   to   go   about   it,   though.   extroverted   is   not   a   word   that   could   describe   her   ;   minji   learns   best   by   isolating   herself   among   the   shadows   ...   but   she   cannot   rely   on   being   a   ghost   without   losing   her   footing   with   him   —   she   is   uncomfortable,   yes,   but   minji   is   talking.   if   she   wants   to   know   him   (   an   idea   that   she   is   already   regretting,   seconds   after   having   thought   about   it   )   ...   she   has   to   talk,   and   how   she   dreads   that.   extroversion   is   an   integral   part   of   this   goal   that   she   has   foolishly   set   up   for   herself.  

yet   another   stolen   glance   and   she   finds   herself   easily   relating   to   how   he   scratches   at   his   skin   —   to   remove   it?   “half   hour,”   she   says   and   it’s   ...   not   a   lie,   but   it   isn’t   the   whole   truth.   she   side-eyes   the   intersection   that   they   pass   by,   refusing   a   suggestion   that   would   lessen   that   travel   time.   this   is   something   that   she,   surprisingly,   has   found   herself   to   half-care   about.   “give   or   take.”   she   slows   down,   coming   up   to   a   driveway   of   an   empty   and   ransacked   home.   “here   —”   she   has   no   desire   to   leave   the   vehicle,   much   less   inspect   shit.   headlights   on   low,   the   click   of   unlocked   doors.   “   –   you   can   clean   up   for   a   bit...   don’t   really   want   to   have   to   explain   why   you’re   covered   in   blood.”