FROMSAUDADES

it had taken an absurd amount of promises and favors, but she had been able to take her gun from the armory before they left; it hadn't been in her hands for almost a year. hopefully, her aim was still good enough to be useful. the handgun wouldn't do anything against the monsters, but a dog? if she had to.

"i am, i am." becca isn't focused on where they're headed and had instead been stabbing downed branches into the dirt, marking their path back to town. they weren't using any trails today. "no, i didn't, sorry." real or not, the trees made it difficult to see anything directly and the open space was a lucky chance. "do you want to keep going, or should we wait? maybe you'll hear it again."

they should quit smoking. the thought came bitterly as their chest tightened with every desperate breath.

"if we stop and wait, we might not ever see him again," alex managed, their voice hoarse but edged with determination. there was a wild, unspoken fear in the admission, though even they couldn’t pinpoint exactly why it gripped them so tightly.

they didn’t understand why it mattered—if it even mattered at all. the thought of owning a pet was laughable; the responsibility of being needed, of being someone another creature depended on, made their chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with exertion. it was too much. too stifling. they weren’t built for that kind of commitment, not when they were barely holding their own life together.

still, there was something about this dog—something they couldn’t quite articulate, but it clawed at their insides nonetheless. alex straightened, trying to steady the wobble in their legs, and glanced back at becca, eyes wide with a mixture of desperation and resolve. "if he’s lost, we have to try and find him, right?" the question lingered in the air, carrying more weight than they intended, almost pleading for validation.

But now, trudging further into the dense forest, Sullivan’s initial curiosity was starting to curdle into regret. "Alex, are you absolutely sure you heard a dog?" they asked, their tone skeptical but laced with intrigue. The thought of a dog, and potentially its owner, gnawed at Sullivan’s restless mind. Someone out here? Living beyond the town’s borders? The possibilities were tantalizing, but each step deeper past the tree line sent a prickle of unease up their spine as the safety of the town disappeared from sight.

They exhaled sharply, glancing around the shadowy woods. "And how do you even know this thing is friendly?" Sullivan continued, their words coming faster now as their nerves started to seep through their usual calm exterior. "I’ve got no medical supplies on me, so if it decides to take a chunk out of you, we’re both screwed." They shot Alex a pointed look, their sharp tongue softened slightly by the tension in their expression. For all their charm and bravado, Sullivan was starting to feel the weight of the creeping silence around them—and they didn’t like it one bit.

sullivan’s barrage of practical, pointed questions only heightened alex’s sense of urgency. these were questions they should have been asking themselves, but they couldn’t focus. time felt like a noose tightening around their resolve. the anxiety clung to them like a second skin as if the dog’s fate hinged on how quickly they acted. alex’s mind raced, the panic building—like the white rabbit in alice in wonderland, they were consumed by the sensation of running late, chasing a trail that only seemed to grow colder. "it always happens like this," they murmured under their breath, eyes scanning the ground for the faint paw prints that etched a path forward.

then came the arguments. "if he wasn’t friendly, he wouldn’t be leading us," alex insisted, more forceful now. their conviction was shaky, but the words tumbled out regardless. they followed the trail, desperate not to lose their way. "just don’t worry, doc. i promise, this is a good thing." the assurance sounded hollow, even to their own ears, more an attempt to quell their spiraling doubts than to ease sullivan’s concerns.

a pause, and then quieter, almost as if confessing to themselves: "he’s never let me get this far before." the admission hung in the air like a fragile thread of hope, vulnerable to the weight of reality.

Ellington raises their glass, the smirk returning with practiced ease. “Nah, this one’s just to enjoying a good night for once—no chaos attached.” With a quick toast, they knock back the shot and waste no time pouring the next, feeling the warmth sink deeper, blurring the edges of thought.

Grinning, they clap a hand on Alex’s shoulder, nodding toward the beer pong table. “Come on, let’s kick things up a notch,” they say, sing-song. Ellington’s eyes glint with a playful challenge, leaving no room for argument. “Show me if you can handle a little defeat,” they add, chuckling, already tugging them along.

the shots were downed quickly, and alex, ever the instigator, was already reaching for the bottle to pour another round. their unsteady hands wobbled the delicate shot glasses, causing the rims to kiss the lip of the bottle with an almost comical lack of precision. a little spilled at the brim, but no harm, no foul—not in a house so consumed by its own hedonistic chaos. the other revelers were far too busy chasing their own pleasures to notice.

ellington’s pull toward the beer pong table prompted a snicker from alex, their skepticism plain. "oh, god, beer pong?" they laughed, the sound rich with amused resignation. defeat seemed inevitable—alex had always been terrible at this game. still, they relished the challenge, albeit with a smirk and a sidelong glance at the liquor. perhaps liquid luck might surprise them tonight. "alright, alright, but next round, i’m calling dibs on a partner who can carry this team," they teased, already anticipating their less-than-stellar performance. "i suck at this."

alex waved a hand lightly, reassuring jean. "nothing like that, actually—just business. routine lights check. i’ve got to make sure the wiring’s good and that you’re not at risk for a fire here." yet, the longer they stood there... the more the thought of lingering felt appealing. procrastination crept in like an old friend. alex leaned a little closer, feigning a sheepish grin. "but, now that you mention it... my throat does feel a little itchy..."

“so, college, huh?” they waited a beat, then plucked a cigarette for themselves, lighting it with a deft motion. the first drag was sharp and acrid, but it melted away the lingering nausea and chased off the last ghosts of the evening’s regrets. the thin smoke curled lazily upward, a gray ribbon winding through the dim light. “what was that like?” alex asked, their tone carrying equal parts curiosity and mischief. “all parties and keg stands, or did you actually manage to learn a thing or two?”

taste my flesh and my sin , her fingers would spell out as they wove the drafty air of her residence between them , breaths short .

josephine's expression soured for a quick moment , wearing a detest for the vow made by the other for a flicker of a second before it melted away ; back to neutrality .

" it will happen again , " josephine said in counter , lips buzzing like static , a slow inhale of breath followed by an even more drawn out exhale that shuddered as it clung to the air in a small plume of mist . " — and we cannot do anything to stop it . to promise such a thing would be cruel . "

she disagreed with them, fundamentally. still, she had no desire to prod or provoke. the last thing they needed was to fall into petty squabbles when survival demanded unity. yet, a part of her itched to understand the reasoning behind their no-nonsense truth, to pick apart the mindset that left so little room for hope.

“i think there are precautions we can take,” she began carefully, her voice measured but not without conviction. “to make sure it doesn’t happen again. look after each other. hold everyone accountable when rules are broken...” her words faltered as she trailed off, the weight of her thoughts pressing on her. she hoped she made sense, that her perspective might be heard without sparking contention.

“i just don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying to stay hopeful,” she added softly, her gaze steady but tinged with vulnerability.

at the mention of her first party, a guilty smile crept onto her face, accompanied by a slow nod of agreement. “so far… it’s not exactly what i expected,” she admitted. “but, then again, maybe i shouldn’t have set my expectations so low. this place… it’s remarkable in what it can create, in what it can forge.” she meant that sincerely. despite the isolation from the rest of the world, this place had begun to feel like a home—or at least something close to it.

“do you?” she asked after a moment of hesitation, her gaze softening as curiosity took hold. “do you mind telling me what it was like?” she loved a good story.

It’s late, the kind of late where Colony House quiets down a little, but the hum of distant conversations still lingers in the hallways. Muz had been roaming the house, as usual, trying to find a spot where the noise didn’t feel like it was going to crawl into his skin. He lands in the kitchen and leans against the doorframe. He glances across the room and notices Maude, sitting at the kitchen table.

'Hey,' Muz says, his voice low but steady. The last thing he wants to do after nightfall is startle anyone. 'You doing alright?'

“how about you?” she asks, her gaze flicking over them, taking in their silhouette against the faint glow. her eyes linger for a moment, scanning for any sign of injury, any hint of trouble written on their form. "looking for company?"

“so, it was all that hunting,” she continues, her voice softening as she wrestles with the weight of her confession, “that made me want to become a vet.” she appreciates the passage of time; it’s allowed her to begin atoning for the sins she committed under his shadow—or at least that’s the story she tells herself. “i think seeing those poor animals running from us—terrified—made me sympathize a little too much.” a faint pout tugs at her lips, sorrow peeking through the cracks in her carefully composed demeanor.

she looks to cherry and feels an echo of her frustration, the shared weight of fighting against forces larger than themselves. “i get it,” she says, her voice dipping lower. “but the only thing we can do to keep their power from growing is to stay alive, watch each other’s backs, and make sure they don’t win.”

"Ain't no way to look ridiculous. Trust me. And if you're worried about dancing alone," he offers an arm to her like a regency gentleman, "then I'll dance with you."

He doesn't want anyone here to feel left out or alienated, just because of insecurities for fears.

in gratitude, she takes their arm with a light touch. "are you always this nice? because, honestly, we could all benefit from your kindness around town. it’s making me feel a little guilty that we haven’t met sooner."

pinching the bridge of her nose, jean turned away from the person on the cot. she tried to not let her frustration show. her bedside manor has really gone down hill since she's come here, but it was hard to keep her composure in this place. here it was about keeping people alive rather than keeping them happy. it didn't help when people would come begging for meds they didn't have. sure there was a pharmacy in town, but it was mostly for show. the only meds they had was whatever happened to come in with the people who showed up here. "no i am not going to waste medicine because you have a stuffy nose," she says finally and turns back to them. "it's just a cold. drink some tea, take a hot bath, and get some rest. you'll feel better in a day or two."

josephine stood on the curb with the toes of her boots just barely hanging over its edge , balancing on the balls of her feet . denim-encased arms wrapped around her slender frame , a means of self soothing , as her misty gaze concentrated leftward towards the town center where emerson's body had been found the night prior .

it wasn't that jo was unmoved by her passing , not necessarily , but in purgatory ( as well as life ) , death was the inevitable means to an end . the people of oblitus could only hang in the in balance for so long — eventually , the reaper would come for them all . josephine's brows furrowed together , lips curling inwards to press into a fine line , gaze slightly narrowing as if trying to see through space & time to witness emerson's dance with the reaper first hand .

the clearing of a throat gave her a start , jumping , as if she had been yanked out of a hypnosis by the snapping of fingers . josephine's face flew to her right , meeting the eyes of who appeared to be looking for her attention , head cocking like that of a confused feline as the bridge of her nose scrunched . she took a step back , feet now fully flat on the sidewalk .

"yeah⸺" her response is brief, a small, curt nod of commiseration. words elude her, despite the undeniable truth that the world had lost someone so beautiful. tragedy had become a fixture in their new existence, so deep in their daily lives that it was too easy to grow indifferent to it. death here, it seemed, was inescapable.

maude's eyes flash towards jo, an instant of agreement passing by as the wind carries between the locks of her shoulder length hair. she struggles with offering the kind of sentimental comfort that others seem to find so naturally. instead, she clings to what she knows. “it shouldn’t have happened,” she says, her voice firm, the weight of logic anchoring her words. the town’s rigid rules were supposed to prevent such things, but now that they had failed, what did that mean for their future? “but we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

— RAYS from the afternoon sun shine through the trees , melting away the remaining frost on the yellowing leaves and warming greer's near windburnt cheeks . though a chilly autumn was no irregularity for the detroit native , there was something sinister in the air , something she tries desperately to ignore , that makes the cold air seem to seep into her weary bones , inescapable no matter how many layers she may wear . despite this , her glove - less right hand remains outside of her coat pocket , a nearly finished cigarette held tightly between two pinkened fingers , orange lighter clutched in the palm of her hand . the unease only worsens the longer she stares into the woods , the shadows among the trees looking all the more ominous . she takes a deep inhale , the harshness of the cold air stinging her nose and throat as she does so , refreshing and punishing at the same time . as she exhales , she closes her eyes , cutting herself off from staring into the forest , and the dark , irrational thoughts that seem to cluster in her mind whenever she was near it . footsteps approach , the sound of gravel crunching taking away from the otherwise eerie silence , and successfully pulling the young woman from her reverie . greer's eyes remain closed for a moment longer , this time to contain an eye roll . “ i'm not running off again , you guys don't have to keep threatening to ‘ restrain me ’ . ” forever assuming rather than asking , disinterest and annoyance cloud greer's voice . her eyes open only to fall into a scowl as she turns to look at the one who interrupts her moping . “ what do you want ? ”

she still doesn't know how she would have endured it without them.

maude remains silent—her steps having brought her to that safe space. the crunch of gravel beneath her boots fades, leaving only the soft murmur of the wind to fill the stillness. she isn’t like the others. she prefers to let them speak when they’re ready, to give them space to process, to comprehend the vastness of their loss. and in truth, they had all the time in the world to reflect on it, save for the moment the sun began its descent.

once twilight arrived, all bets would be off.

"a phone call home. but that’s not happening," she mutters, her voice a low murmur of resignation. she nods, as if the thought of even a brief conversation would somehow offer her solace. she'd call her parents ( her adoptive ones ) to let them know she was safe. "i think that’s the real issue," she continues, her tone thoughtful and tinged with empathy. "we keep focusing on what we want, rather than what’s real. that, and no one’s actually asked you what you need, what would make all of this a little easier to bear."

she gives them a soft, sympathetic smile, before asserting, "i'm sorry this is happening to you."