She knew that her kids had to be safe at school. She knew that Fay had to be safe somewhere in town. Logically, she knew these things to be true. 

It didn’t make it any easier to be held up in Town Hall without being able to verify that to be truth. It didn’t make her feel any better about the fact that her babies were probably terrified, stuck with a bunch of unfamiliar faces surrounding them...

Or, they’d always been so great with change - maybe they were perfectly entertained by the teachers in the school caring for them while the winds blew. 

As soon as the skies cleared Jo was out on the steps of Town Hall with only one destination in mind - but she’d barely taken a step down the stairs before she spotted Fay strolling up, the hand of their niece and nephew firmly in each of theirs.

who: open starter ( @thecatastrophicrpg​ )

when & where: mid afternoon - town hall

of all the things to hit them while they’re still in recovery mode…a natural disaster hadn’t made livia’s list of potential problems.

a raging storm is surprisingly easier to deal with though then kidnappings and random debilitating illnesses especially once she reaches town hall and reassures herself that her brother and fletcher are both safe and accounted for.

the council seem to be run off their feet, people trapped outside the walls and people missing that should be safely within, so liv had tracked down jesse once she’d arrived (unwilling to take direction from any of his co-leaders) and thrown herself into the task he’d directed her to - approaching the people trying to settle in town hall, taking care of their trivial needs, extra blankets, a cup of something hot…

fairvale was her home,  helping out in some small way -it was the least she could do.

she maintains a calm expression with every person she approaches, easy because despite everything she’s feeling calmer than she has in weeks anyway, and as she taps them on the shoulders or waves to get their attention she asks some variation of the same question too.

“do you need anything?”

— 🩺 —

Storms in and of themselves had always been fascinating to Jo. The storm clouds rolling angrily through the sky, electricity generating and shooting in bolts of lightening to light up the sky and generate a blast of noise. Rain, in general, had been a soothing weather event; the gentle patter of raindrops upon the pavement, the way it cooled down the heat and rejuvenated everything...

Granted, when it poured from the skies, creating rivulets running down the paths and washing out everything - it wasn’t exactly the best. Not to mention the raging winds that accompanied, slanting the drops in every which direction and flinging debris every which way. There was a limit to the pleasure associated with storms. When it became destructive, she was no longer interested.

Plus, Fay and the kids were not around, which was only spiking her anxiety about the whole situation. Sure, the kids were probably safe at the school. Fay was probably safe wherever they was (which really, could very well also be the school to fulfill their janitorial duties, though they could’ve been staffed just about anywhere around town. The fact of the matter was they were NOT at Town Hall.) 

She turns at the voice, glancing away from the storm behind the windows and turning their attention on the woman who had asked....if she needed anything. 

Fay visibly relaxed when she didn’t ask anything about their journey west, never having been too great at keeping their emotions from their face. Still, Jo knew them, she could probably look through them even if they got their emotions under control. And she was much the same, putting on her classic brave face more for herself than for them.

“The kids?” Their face turned emotional in an instance, they hadn’t dared to ask. They squeezed her hand. “I would love to see them too, shi- they must’ve grown.” They edged forward, pushing their butt off the examination table and wrapping Jo in a firm hug. “So glad you’re alright, so glad you’re here. I must’ve some really good karma!”

— 🩺 —

Fay seemed good. Happy, even. And that was what she’d always wanted for them. 

“Like weeds,” she said jokingly, head bobbing in a nod. She didn’t like that she couldn’t specifically remember the last time Fay had seen the kids - it was hard to remember a lot of things now that time had lost all importance and the world went to shit. “They’re still cute, though. I’m sure you’ll let ‘em get away with anything if they give you a good smile.” 

She gratefully accepted the embrace, pressing a kiss to their cheek and holding them close for a moment longer than seemed necessary. But damn, she was just so happy to have them around again. It felt like it took just a little bit of pressure off her shoulders. 

He grinned and nodded. Part of him happy to know she couldn’t understand him if he spoke in Spanish, another part sad because he did enjoy speaking it, and he missed speaking it every day. He missed how he was able to express himself easier in the language, how he knew the ins and outs of every word, knew how to connect sentences, how to make good word jokes. 

Fay. Bishan tried to keep his face in check before he totally gave away that he did know the brother Jo was speaking about. Knew them very well, one might even say they were business partners of sorts. Though… that would be giving him too much credit for his part in all of it. “I do know them… though, I mostly know their… well, business,” he said, trying to keep from chuckling at the very thought of Jo being a doctor and Fay being a weed grower and dealer. “They didn’t live in the same place as you?” he asked. Fay had been in town for what.. ten months a least? Jo had only recently arrived. That was a huge time difference. 

— 🩺 —

Their business. That didn’t exactly surprise her that Fay would’ve started up a business in town, though they hadn’t specifically spoken about it. Jo didn’t really mind the whole thing one way or another - if it made them happy and it wasn’t necessarily unsafe, she had no concerns, really. 

“Do you partake in this business, then?” She asked with a raised brow, a cheeky smile on her lips. “Fay’s been in that business a while, makes sense they’d pick up where they left off given the opportunity.” To think this place had been around long enough to even set roots down like that...it was a nice feeling. 

“For real for real,” Fay said quickly, then the hands were placed on their cheeks and they raised their lip a little, in some soundless mock growl. “I’m also here,” they informed her, warm smile on their face.

A grin settled on their features, an inner need to tell Jo absolutely everything, the good the best, but definitely not the worst. The worst was what had brought them to Fairvale in the first place, miles and miles away from home. They swallowed. “Yeah, it’s a nice town. I got it good,” they said, their voice dropped a little, but they picked it up quickly. “No clue how I got here though, but you know me, got myself nicely settled, on Janitor duties here, still like to keep the place clean.” They extended their hand to hers. “So, how’bout you?”

— 🩺 —

Even if Fay couldn’t remember how they’d ended up in Georgia, in Fairvale - well; that was concerning in and of itself, but frankly it didn’t matter because they were HERE and they were SAFE and they were ALIVE and that was all that really mattered in the end. 

Unless she’d completely lost her mind. Which, frankly, was plausible these days. She wasn’t going to worry about it. 

“Well, I’m just glad to see you in one piece,” she admitted, clasping their hand as it was extended to her. “I’m good.” Mostly good. Pretty good. Trying to stay positive and focused on the good. 

Bishan grinned, to say something that sounded good in Spanish, to him, was like inviting him to share all his favourite curses from when he had been younger. He hummed, trying to think of something, wondering why suddenly Hindu floated to the surface and not Spanish. He tried to focus his brain on the words. He spoke Spanish often with Yami, who at current was the only fluent speaker he knew. And he was helping Sloane catch up on it too. 

“English is easy, but it’s not a pretty language,” he said. “Es una idioma mas heuvon,” he said, “pero, toda la gente insiste en habarlo. Pero yo, me ama hablar en espanol, lo extraño.” He felt mushy.

He winced at her probing, his belly felt alright aside from the bruise, but the bruise was definitely in the way. “So who is this family you got in town? Distract me.”

— 🩺 —

There was certainly a part of Jo that had to wonder what he was saying. She picked up a few words from high school spanish, maybe got the gist that he was talking about the language and speaking of it... “English is not a pretty language,” she agreed, giving him a gentle smile, not commenting on what had been spoken in spanish because she couldn’t be sure of what he said, though it sure did sound nice. 

Nothing looked too bad, enough to keep him feeling it for a few days, but should heal up just fine...

                             ━━━━━━⋆✩⋆━━━━━━

it isn’t terribly difficult to picture and yet liam still fidgets uncomfortably where he sits, closing his eyes as his fingers curl into his chest and he sucks in a shaky, unsettled breath. 

“um, i hear him humming and tapping on his knee, ‘cause he’s always singing to himself quietly when he’s concentrating and um, i see his books, and his empty bottles and, um, i see — he has this weird little corner in his room that he said max sleeps in when she stays over. and um. taste, uh, i can taste — “

liam pauses there, a flood of red shooting to his cheeks.  he’d skip that one.

“uh — i can smell him and, and dinner and i feel… i feel like…”

“i feel like no one can’t hurt me any more. ‘cause he’s there. he won’t let them.”

— 🩺 —

It’s nice to hear that Liam has someone he cares so deeply about and seems to care about him in return. Jo imagines that’s pretty hard to come by in a world such as theirs. 

Her head bobs in a nod to acknowledge that she’s listening as he goes through the list, about the creature comforts in Kai’s home and how they’d learned to live in it together. And she’s no psychologist by any means, but she’d picked up the trick over the years - to get the person to focus on something else, something good, to ease that anxiety induced chest pain where it feels like you’re dying when really your brain is just playing tricks. 

👁👁

“I was in need of that before the apocalypse. Where were you back then, could have used you to tell my boss that.” being an ophthalmologist didn’t give much free time and what he had was used on family. Jaime had slept on things less comfortable then the clinic beds, if anything it was a blessing to have that. 

Jamie could see she was holding back a smile, he’d call it a victory if he got it so she wasn’t able to hide it. “Hey no smiling, my jokes are ones you should just shake your head at because they are that bad…” he pointed out the corners of her mouth. The contact was gentle but of course he was going to overdramatise it, a hand gripping where the crutch had made contact “ouch… and now she hurts as well as helps me, what a plot twist.”

“You know I can’t remember exactly… why don’t you try and if I pass out we will have our answer.” it wasn’t said harshly. “it’s defiantly a thing though, not that my patients when I had them ever cared for it.”  

— 🩺 —

“Oh, don’t be a big baby. And your jokes are bad,” she pointed out, her nose scrunching as she shook her head at him. Hey, if friendly banter kept his mind off of his situation, she figured it was a win. 

“So is you passing out a good thing?” She asked skeptically. “Or is it because you’d be so bored out of your mind at my serenade that it put you to sleep? I suppose either option is a win if it’ll get you to get some rest, though I don’t exactly think the tavern table is the best place to rest your head.” 

                             ━━━━━━⋆✩⋆━━━━━━

“a happy place…” 

there were plenty, or at least, there used to be. the park near their house back in chicago, the library. his brother’s bedroom when they hung out together and his own room when the ceiling full of stick on stars glowed in the dark. 

but as of recent, his happy place remained wherever kai would be, didn’t it? his apartment or the tavern, the park under their tree. wherever kai went, liam’s happy place would follow; that undeniable feeling of being safe no matter the circumstance. an acceptance long overdue he’d never felt before outside of jesse and their parents.

“i… like it at kai’s,” liam begins to say slowly, watching jo’s hands in her lap for something to focus on. “s’always comfy there.”

“like… like kai keeps me safe.”

— 🩺 —

Kai’s was his happy place. 

Jo didn’t know who this Kai was, but clearly he was someone here in town, someone who had given Liam something new to hold onto. And damn, wasn’t it adorable?

“Okay. Kai’s,” Jo agreed with a nod, running with it. Not exactly what she expected, but it would work - though if Kai was somewhere here, Liam could very well be there with him now, couldn’t he? Regardless - 

WHERE: Clinic WHEN: 25th of July WITH @jo-davis​

Fay sat down at the little bed thingy that patients were supposed to use, holding out their hands in front of them, slightly to the sky. “I CANNOT believe that you’re here. I know I’ve said that five times already now. BUT YOU ARE HERE!” They held a hand up to their forehead. “JO! Jo!” 

They had heard about the new doctor in town, but had been too busy vibing to pay it much mind. Then someone… they thought it had been Fletcher… had told them about Jo. Called her Jo. So Fay had hurried to the clinic at a slow pace to yell at her. “YOU ARE HERE!” 

“I’m so sure you’re real.” 

— 🩺 —

“Here in the flesh,” Jo chuckled as Fay went on and on, as if maybe they didn’t actually believe that she was standing there in front of them. Despite the words that they were saying. “Are you sure, for real?” Jo asked, stepping forward to clasp her hands around their face - almost for maybe a moment trying to convince herself that Fay was real herself. This could be the moment she lost her mind, envisioning her baby brother there with her when they weren’t at all. 

But they were. They had to be. 

Bishan held out his arms as if to say ’see, told you’, though the winning move was quickly rewarded by a painful jolt in his upper arm. He grimaced and put his arm back down. So head, stomach, arm, not so bad. He wondered if the other person - if it was indeed Kai - had suffered similar injuries. Or if he really had landed barely a fist. He had no idea how good of a fighter he was when intoxicated.

“Fluent yeah, it’s my first language,” he said. Perhaps sounding a little too proud, but it wasn’t because he was proud that it was indeed that, but that she hadn’t picked up on his accent. Not everyone, luckily, noticed the Mexican roots in his voice, and sometimes he was grateful for it, before he felt bad about feeling grateful for it.

Bishan followed her gestures, wincing as he lay down, glad for the fact that he had zero shame about his physical appearance, at least not towards doctors. Sometimes he still felt like he was still the scrawny teenager he had been. “Normal and not normal at the same time,” he agreed. “More family? Who you got here then?”

— 🩺 —

The grimace in the movement didn’t go without notice, pursing her lips a bit. So then his shoulder, too, was it? Bishan was all sorts of broken bits and pieces here, wasn’t he...sure had taken quite the beating. She wondered if he’d done anything to actually deserve it or if it had been just some stupid bar fight.

“Oh yeah? I never really had much of an ear for languages.” She had heard that hint of something in his voice, but wasn’t one to make assumptions one way or another. He could’ve grown up surrounded by the language and only learned it later in life for all she knew. “I always thought it sounded nice, though. All those romance languages. English is so...I don’t know. It doesn’t flow as nice, I guess... Tell me somethin’ that sounds nice.” Even if she didn’t know Bishan, she had a feeling he might try and slip something that sure sounded nice but wasn’t actually nice after their discussion about swears. 

“I am enjoying myself. Have been all evening.” Not a thing is going to bring down his mood. His friends are around, people are having a great time, the music might not be notch with some of the residents’ lack of vocal talent but he loves it. It seems Jo is having a good time, too.

An order is put in for a beer for her while he still leans into the bar top. “I definitely don’t own a pair of dancing shoes, but my Chucks will have to do.” Thoughtfully, he glances down to the scuffed rubber toes and the dirty shoelaces. Then Fletch shrugs. “Don’t dance well, myself, but doesn’t mean I’m not going. I like making a fool outta myself.”

— 🩺 —

It sounds like Fletcher has had a fair few drinks already sent down the hatch. It’s rather amusing, really, how relaxed he seems to be. Not that he’s usually particularly tightly wound or anything of the sort - but she likes to see that he’s having a good time.

“Aw, c’mon now,” Jo comments, sliding off her seat to take his hand and pull him along towards the makeshift dance floor. “I’m sure your Chucks can make pretty decent dancing shoes if you put your mind to it. Dancing doesn’t really take any special gear.” It of course had been a turn of phrase more than an actual request for him to be wearing dancing shoes, but explaining to drunk persons such difficult concepts never would go too well. 

Ray’s eyes cut around the bar for a moment. With the amount of people inside of the Hard Times and the alcohol warming his system, a slight sheen of sweat had graced his forehead and lower bar. Ray felt pride when he saw so many people having a good time, drinking and singing and laughing like before the world had ended. This was what Ray had wanted when he talked with staff about their event. A single night of just goodness and fun for the emotionally exhausted residents of Fairvale.

“Tonight’s about fun,” Ray corrected gently, his smile never left his face as he talked. “And just havin’ a good time. You don’t need to drink for that, in my experience. It does help to have a good tastin’ one at your side though.” Maybe, as a lifetime bartender, Ray should be expected to drink a lot more than he did. Even before the outbreak though, he drank socially or with friends. A lifetime on the other side of the bar had shown Ray what alcohol could do to you if you drowned yourself in it. While he felt zero remorse that his living was made off of creating, improving, and designing some of the best liquors on this side of the Mississippi, that didn’t mean he expected everyone to hit the bottle tonight.

“I’m being an awful host right now. Let me go get ya that second drink.”

— 🩺 —

“Well alright, sure, if you want to be all generic.” She hadn’t meant it was all about the beer, of course - but they were asking for feedback on the home brew that just so happened to be ready for consumption today. That was an odd set of coincidences if today wasn’t at least a little bit about the beer. “But no, you’re right - the fun doesn’t have to be associated with the drink by any means.” In fact, more often than not, she preferred it that way. It may be a nice change from the normal around Fairvale, but she didn’t need to be herding drunkards home all night...

                             ━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

ice cream did sound pretty fucking good right now and, anything would be better than listening to any more sniffling and the blowing of noses and the sorrys and all the rest.

and it isn’t out of disrespect, this need to get away from the mourning. it’s that if he’s here any longer he might just give into the thought of doing it too and that, is a big no no on his list of very bad things he’d rather avoid for the rest of this life than do. he could remember his family in the comfort of his solitude with a drink in hand when he felt like giving himself permission to miss them for a while. 

but to grieve like this… no. not at all.

“yeah, c’mon. my treat, for helping with my knee and everything.”

                             ━━━━━━⋆✩⋆━━━━━━

the boy rests his chin upon the top of his knee, already feeling silly despite the evidence of his will to fix such a thing the way he’d obsessively checked the clinic for either the woman before him or the man who’d saved his brother. it’s an issue, one he’d rather ignore but, how does one ignore the way their chest tightens with the feeling of not being able to breathe?

“it’s like… my heart skips a beat and i can’t think straight. and it hurts and… and i don’t feel real any more. like i’ll suddenly come back into play like i’ve been on autopilot and i don’t know where have the day went.” liam swallows, bringing the already bruised knuckle of his finger to his mouth while his soft blue eyes can’t quite find it in them to meet jo’s.

“started um, a while ago. i… before i got to town. after um… but it got worse when jesse got sick. more so when anyone touches me, y’know? i got better with it. i’ve been better. but. i dunno. this is stupid, isn’t it? i’m being stupid.”

— 🩺 —

“No, Liam,” she says firmly, leaning just a bit in the direction his eyes are looking to try and get his attention on her - without touching him, of course. What she wanted to do was grab his face in between her hands and tell him everything would be alright, but this case very much didn’t seem like that would help. “It’s not stupid, you’re not being stupid. Pain is never stupid.” 

She shifts her position, instead sitting down on the floor in front of him and crossing her legs. Her elbows rested upon her knees, hands folding in her lap. 

👁👁

“I’m sure I’m not the only one who needs to rest. I could have used that day two into this new world.” the worrying about his sister it had too its told on his mind and now his body. But maybe now that he was with her, that the girl he had raised from a teenager to adult was close… maybe, just maybe he would heed Jo’s words.

“Do we need a doctor for that wound? wonder where we can get one of them? Know one?” he mocked with those questions. “Oh please don’t. You’ll end up leaving me with that nurse with the heavy hands, pretty face but she tells me off a lot.” jestingly describing her, she seemed to react well to his jokes and right now he needed to make a friend.

“Well that sounds like a challenge now. You know I heard about a study where sinning helps patients. You should do it help my healing process.” 

— 🩺 —

“Alright, that’s valid - but you’re like, in triple overtime of needing a vacation. Or at least a nap.” Or maybe just a soft bed to rest his head. The clinic was nice and all, but she doubted the beds they had there were quite as comfortable as the ones someone might find within the homes around here. As long as you didn’t think too hard about the fact that you were invading the home of someone that might very well be dead without permission...it was a gift from above, what Fairvale had to offer these survivors. 

“Ha, ha, ha,” she spoke the words without amusement, though a smile threatened at the corner of her lips as much as she tried to stamp it down. “You’re hilarious,” she remarked, grabbing for one of the crutches closest to her and smacking him with it - gently, of course. “Funny man, funny man.” 

Bishan licked the inside of his teeth, keeping himself from saying that if not for Holly, he wouldn’t have come at all, probably. Not that he thought he had nothing to be looked after, but because he didn’t wish to be seen as a troublemaker. Or not anymore at least. He shrugged. “Well, Monday is the start of the week,” he said. “Important day,” he added. “Figured it could wait.”

He swallowed, the idea of a concussion hadn’t really registered, maybe because he hadn’t been this beat up before. At least not without knowing exactly what had happened. “Might’ve not been able to answer those before all of this happened,” he said with a grin. “Bishan, and in Fairvale,” he answered regardless. “I think if I had a concussion, I might be babbling in Spanish or something.” 

“How are you settling in, doc?” 

— 🩺 —

Her eyes narrow skeptically, certain that the statements being made were just excuses and not actually backed up by any solid reasoning. At least not these days. At least, she certainly didn’t feel like she’d had a weekend in ages. Besides, it could be just about any day of the week and Jo probably would’ve believed it. Sure, she tried to track the date as best as possible to celebrate those little moments like birthdays and holidays that still needed to matter...but the day of the week had pretty much gone out the window. 

She wondered, vaguely, if they had a 2020 calendar lying around somewhere around here. It was possible, they made two year calendars...right? But it’d be running out soon enough, and she had doubts they’d have any luck finding a pre-made 2021 calendar...though it’s not as if they were difficult to make - it just wouldn’t be as nice to look at. 

“Sure, I’ll give it to you. Monday is an important day.” She’s relieved that he does have seem to have his wits about him, even if he can’t quite recall what had happened. That she could blame more on the alcohol consumption than the head injury. “Oh? Fluent in Spanish then, are you?”