living dead girls.

“Yeah, some of them weren’t too bad actually.” He nodded his head and looked at her with a bright smile on his face. He was actually checking on one of the kids from the childcare space, because they had gotten a little cold, and he had given them a recipe that helped knock out colds for him when he was an assassin. He looked around the small, but beautiful living space and turned to look at the layout. He was happy for her, because she deserved a nice space tolive in. Hell they all did. But for now they could just deal with the cards that they were given. He had been on a mission in the Philippines one time and it was actually pretty similar to this - the part that he was assigned to.

“I use to do a lot of work that required me to be on the go a lot, so I honestly never truly got into feeling like I belonged somewhere until right before this happened.” This was in reference to the virus. He sighed and looked at the other with the shake of his head. “But I get what you mean… when i would got to work… i had my own things. I wasn’t looking at everyone else’s or living in someone’s space.” He felt that they should have group circles to talk about everything that was going on. “I clear things out little at a time, because apart of me want to respect people’s things, but it makes me feel a little weird with their things there.” He stated softly, knowing it probably made him sound like an asshole.

“i’ve been sleeping in cars or on roofs for like ... the last year or something.” leticia smiled back at him. “i can’t believe that someone hasn’t snagged this bed yet.” lying back onto the bed, she sighed closing her eyes as if she could pretend things were back to normal. she’d done this since she was a child--lying in bed, closing her eyes and pretending a mother she’d never known was fixing her something to eat in the kitchen or blow-drying her long, dark hair in the other room. it was a bittersweet reverie. as roman spoke, she opened one of her eyes a sliver and watched him, before resigning herself to living in their current reality and sliding off the bed to investigate underneath. 

“really? i always wanted to travel. what did you do?” she mused, pulling out a box from under the bed. “i lived with my grandmother as a kid.” the words were clearly marked with a distance that reflected the cold, sanitized environment that she’d grown up in. “i didn’t really feel like anything i had then was my own. it was just like ... a showroom, or something.” opening the cardboard box, leticia pulled out a t-shirt and handed it to him. “i think this is your size more than mine.” she didn’t look at the design on the front, but it was much too big for her. “when i moved in with my cousins, there were so many of us kids we didn’t really have our own stuff or space either, but it was nice. it felt like a real family, you know?” continuing to rifle through the box, she looked over at him. “then i lived it a studio and it was nice, but like weird too. very quiet. did you have a lot of family growing up or--” biting her lip, she looked back into the box. a lot of family meant for a lot of loss. 

                                           *  ◟   DOES   HE   WANT   HER   HELP   ?   does   he   need   her   help   ?   eyes   shift   from   side   to   side   like   the   male   is   looking   at   some   sort   of   equation   ,   one   that   requires   his   entire   brain   to   think   of   .   ‘   yeah   ,   she’s   a   puppy   .   ’   he   responds   slowly   ,   choosing   words   carefully   to   say   to   the   femme   .   arms   cross   as   he   shifts   his   weight   evenly   .   ‘   how   do   i   know   i   can   trust   you   ,   nikola   ?   if   you   help   me   find   her   ,   how   do   i   know   you   won’t   go   running   off   to   the   leaders   ?   ’   an   unwarranted   interrogation   ,   but   dogs   technically   aren’t   allowed   –   especially   if   they’re   as   useless   as   the   stray   he’s   brought   in   .   he   can   only   bring   up   a   single   argument   about   her   that   would   maybe   help   –   that   she’s   cute   ,   the   cute   little   stray   is   the   cutest   thing   inside   woodbridge   ,   except   for   maybe   cockroach   .

“how do you know you can trust me?” nikola scoffs, crossing her arms to mimic his posture. “are you serious, seamus? it’s a puppy not a fucking russian sleeper agent or cujo or whatever.” man, she must really have a reputation for being an asshole if he thought she’d run to rat him out for a little golden. “in the interest of full disclosure? i’m a cat person, but i’m not a monster. i like puppies too just like anybody else who isn’t a freakin’ sociopath.” besides, she missed pets. sure, she gets why they’re probably a bad idea and maybe a waste of resources, but what was the point in surviving if they were going to let something as pure and innocent as a puppy be hung out to dry. “where’d you see her last?”

“ i just picked one. ”  but will sympathized.  he’d chosen his quarters based fractionally on location,  but they were barren,  and that barrenness been their real selling point.  they’d belonged to someone without much of a home life,  or a need for decor  –  that,  or whoever’d lived in his place before hell had come to town had brought it with them on the bottom of their shoe.  that said,  most of america had been walking around on graves long before the apocalypse.  it had just been easier to ignore when civilization reigned,  on account of the sort of people who went around cleaning up after the dead.  lawyers and such like.  “ just pretend she moved out.  it’s the truth,  ain’t it? ”

“just like that?” leticia wondered aloud. she’d never been particularly decisive. indecision was easy. especially when there were enough vacant homes left in the safe zone that any one among them was fine enough. “i wish i could be so sure.” she wasn’t high maintenance; it wasn’t as if granite counter tops even mattered anymore. “it’s just weird picking out a place someone else lived their entire life in. it’s not like ... staged, you know? like a zillow ad.” she didn’t mention that the only place she’d ever lived in alone was a studio apartment. big houses felt like cemeteries without families to fill them up with. examining the contents of the top drawer of a bedside table, she wondered if it would be tough to box up someone else’s history like it was last years tax return documents. “yeah, i guess. that’s better than seeing it as like a crime scene or something.”

DELICATE FINGERS run  along  tattered  curtains,  material  soft against  the  the  pads  of  elisa’s thumb.  once  they  might  have  functioned  as  decorations  for  a  young  girl,  something  she’d  perhaps  picked  out  at  the  store  herself  and  tugged  at  her  mother  or  father’s  shirt  until  they  caved,  her  excited  yelps  filling  her  room  as  they  hung  them  that  same  day.  now  they’re  meaningless  and  they  are  ugly,  and  all  elisa  can  think  of  is  how  they  might  make  a  good  shirt.  she  pries  her  gaze  away  from  them,  sparing  a  glance  at  the  other  woman  with  a  tentative  smile.  “  it  must  have  been  a  nice  neighborhood,  “  she  hums,  perching  herself  on  the  edge  of  the  bed.  they  were  nice,  probably  nicer  then  her  own.  “  i  don’t  really  remember  exactly.  someone  just  offered  me  to  room  with  them  and  i  just  said  yes ,  “  she  admits,  hands  smoothing  down  the  creases  in  sheets.  “ i  kind  of  just  moved  everything  that  i  didn’t  need  into  a  corner …  i  guess  it  just  felt  wrong  to  throw  it  out  completely.  “  her room  had  echoes  of  someone  else,  it  never  would  truly  feels  hers,  with  its  paint  chipped,  cracked  roof,  broken  dresser;  all  of  it  felt  so  intentional,  evidence  of  the  person  who’d  lived  there  before.  “  this  is  a  nice  one  though,  i’d  take  it  if  i  were  you.  “  

lying back on the bed, leticia finds herself staring up at the glow in the dark stars. no doubt they had been placed carefully, by someone who loved this room and this girl. even after three years of funeral dirges and a life that made the hunger games look almost appealing, she has not grown jaded to these small things. nostalgia is more painful than uncomplicated sadness. beyond her reverie of another time, she almost doesn’t hear elisa’s words. sighing, she props herself up onto her elbows and regards the other with a nod. “i think you’re right.” she can remember living in a bad neighborhood when she was very small, but it is so fragmented that it is mostly sounds: sirens, laughter, yelling, her grandmother locking the door as soon as she was in the house. then later, after the money started rolling in from interviews and whatever else abuela did in the early days, their puyallup home was quite nice actually. nice, but sterile and cold. leticia wonders often what her mother would have done to decorate their first home had she lived. mismatched ikea furniture and hand-me-downs. the odds and ends of dinnerware with flowers or birds. she does not know, even now, what her mother’s real interests were. in death, everything is sanitized. just like these houses. the curated exhibits lovingly tended to by the ghosts who now haunt them. she sees a cut out of channing tatum among the collage and startles herself with her own laughter. 

                  𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐋   𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒   𝐀𝐍   𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍   𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆   face  ,   arms   crossed   over   her   chest  .   elodie   is   a   coiled   wire—   every   plane   of   her   body   tense   &   on   the   verge   of   a   snap  .   hardly   a   rare   state   for   her   to   be   in  ,   in   truth  ,   but   she   does   seem   worse   than   usual   today  .   frown   a   little   more   severe  ,   hands   curled   a   tad   bit   tighter   into   fists  .   a   passing   nurse   takes   one   look   at   her   &   ducks   out   of   the   way  ,   but   she’s   past   the   point   of   caring  .      ❛      well  ,   that   was   fucking   useless  ,      ❜     she   says  ,   the   words   nearly   a   growl  ,      ❛      what’s   the   goddamn   point   of   risking   my   life   on   these   missions   if   we   never   find   anything  ?     ❜      woodbridge   is   better   stocked   than   anyone   could   have   ever   hoped  ,   but   even   so  ,   certain   supplies   run   low  .   namely—   medicine  .   and   when   she   has   a   seven   year   old   bedridden   with   the   flu  ,   that’s   the   one   thing   she   desperately   needs  .   two   weeks   she’s   spent   away   from   her   son  ,   looking   for   any   sign   of   anything   that   could   help  .   an   old   hospital  ,   a   forgotten   nurse’s   bag  .   (   it’s   not   technically   in   her   job   description   to   bring   back   supplies  ,   but   she’s   never   let   a   pesky   thing   like   rules   stop   her   before  .   she’ll   take   the   flak   from   the   council   if   they   kick   up   a   fuss  .   her   son   comes   first  .   )   NADA  .   elodie   runs   a   hand   through   flyaway   hairs  ,   sighing  .      ❛      have   you   seen   adrian  ?      ❜

“i can’t believe how comfortable some of these beds are.” leticia mused, letting herself fall back onto the bed of a teenage girl in one of the available houses. it was hard to choose a house to live in all by herself when each home looked like a museum of someone else’s life. like a dollhouse, the girl’s room seemed almost perfectly preserved--a butterfly pinned beneath a glass frame. she missed living in a full house or in her small, studio apartment. this house was lovely and whoever had taken care of it before everything had survived at least for a little while. there was no stink of mildew or rotting food like some of the others she’d declined despite their more impressive layouts. this house was small, but clean and well-loved.

her legs couldn’t sit still — all marcela wanted was to be beyond the walls once more despite all the dangers that lie within, the dangers that can easily seep through and undoubtedly will one day. all the more reason not to be around for when it does. so why wasn’t leaving easy? it’s not like she hasn’t done it before and sticking around for what? two years? definitely too long to stay still — just like it was for two minutes. marcela grabbed her leather jacket from the ground, shrugging it on. just as she was doing so, one of the few cats around this dump came up to her, brushing against her leg. “ what? you gonna miss me? ”

it was nice of them to let her have some time to get settled into woodbridge, but she was eager to start earning her keep. one of the council members had directed her towards where she might find some of the scouts and, with some help of some of the other residents, she’d found one. marcela, they’d called her, it was a name that stung. it crawled under her skin and, she hoped, that at least the woman who bore her cousin’s name would have the decency to keep her distance because there was no way in hell she’d let herself hope it was actually her. no, leticia’s family was as dead and gone as either of her parents. as her yolanda--the woman who’d raised her, but never earned the name abuela. 

as she saw this marcela reach for her jacket, speaking to a stray cat--it almost sounded like her. it made leticia’s stomach drop and she whispered no mames under her breath before telling herself it wasn’t possible. she almost considered turning around and heading the other way. there were surely other scouts heading out today. she didn’t need to reopen five-year-old wounds. instead, she found herself clearing her throat to get the other to turn around and said. “uh, hey, someone told me you’d show me the ropes. i’m one of the new scouts.”

this insatiable curiosity was what had drawn her from her sleeping quarters in the armory, this time to follow one of her colleagues as they slipped out in the dead of night during a time that they were not on shift. pulling her boots swiftly over her feet, she pulled her coat off the hook and did her best to walk softly as she followed after them into the night--keeping a good pace, but slow enough that she had some distance between them.

as the perimeter guard rounded a corner, hushed voices could be heard and nik hurried to catch up to him. as she rounded the corner of the building, someone behind her made to pull her back behind the facade of the building and she stifled a gasp of surprise. “what the fuck?” she whispered, turning on her heel to face the other.

jesse glanced down from his perch at the sound of an approach,  where he was working on restoring a patch of roof.  it was a precarious operation;  he’d nearly dropped a shitload of tiles off the side of it when he’d started.  there was undeniably a better way to handle things.  a safer way.  but jesse was in a hurry;  it felt like rain was coming.  “ you can stand there.  it’s a free country.  but if i drop these on your head,  you gotta accept at least twenty - five percent of the responsibility.  you good with that? ”

leticia didn’t have a ton of skills to offer in trade for staying in woodbridge, but she wasn’t all-together useless. she’d helped out at her cousins’ store and that sometimes meant doing the maintenance work ( which she’d insisted upon learning ). she was strong and fast from running and yoga. she was kind and altruistic. if she’d made a resume to get in, which wasn’t too offbase for what she’d had to do on her arrival, she would’ve included those things. as she walked, she was grateful for the beat-up, battery powered discman she’d found in some old guy’s garage while scouting and double lucky that the only good cd she could find was at least selena. there was no way in hell she was listening to dave matthew’s band--not even if it was the end of the world. it was a rare luxury and one, she knew, that would not last long. surely no one would be willing to give her replacement batteries. 

OPEN STARTER / 13:49 , woodbridge safety zone .

                                          *  ◟  SURPRISE   ,   SURPRISE      –-      A   DECISION   HE’S   made   has   come   back   to   bite   him   right   in   the   ass   .   twenty   -   nine   years   of   this   ,   should   seamus   really   be   surprised   ?   the   blond   doesn’t   think   it   matters   ,   because   his   footsteps   are   sparsely   heard   &   his   posture’s   a   little   too   straight   (   ‘   since   when   has   SEAMUS   walked   like   a   pastor   ?   ’   someone   says   when   they   think   he   can’t   hear   )   ,   but   at   he’s   good   (   or   ,   rather   ,   he   thinks   he’s   good   )   at   hiding   secrets   .   rounds   the   corner   &   sea   blue   hues   land   on   the   other   ,   face   melting   from   harsh   &   concentrated   to   as   friendly   as   he   can   muster   .   ‘   by   any   chance   ,   have   you   seen   a   little   golden   pup   around   carrying   a   socket   wrench   ?   ’   he   asks   fast   ,   hoping   to   disorient   them   with   the   question   ,   get   an   honest   answer   &   LEAVE   before   anything   else   is   asked   .   ‘   little   thing   ,   can’t   be   older   than   a   few   months   .   ’

watching the perimeter wasn’t a big deal. it was the kind of job--not unlike her father’s cleaning business--where it was either dead ( pun intended ) or busy. truth be told, part of her would much rather be outside of woodbridge, but there was no way she was leaving polly alone in this place. they hadn’t been there long enough for nikola to feel comfortable, but there was no way they could keep surviving the way they had been. it was time to grow some roots. she was thinking about this glumly as the perimeter when she decided to pack it in for her shift and see if her relief was coming soon. she’s surprised, instead, by a stranger looking for a puppy. “are you serious?” her words are dubious, not hostile, but everything she says has a trace of toxicity she can’t help. “like a puppy? i haven’t seen a puppy in forever.” nik was really more of a cat person, but she liked other people’s dogs just fine. she just couldn’t picture herself caring for one. “no, i haven’t seen anything but shuffling corpses since noon, but uh--” surprising herself by how badly she missed simple things like puppies, she couldn’t turn down the prospect of seeing one. hell, maybe if they found it, he’d bring it to see polly. “--i could help you look, if you want.”

( samara weaving. cis female. she/her. )  /  NIKOLA VOLKOVA has been with the group for one month and is currently doing their part in the community as a perimeter guard. while here, twenty six year old has created the reputation of being machiavellian & acerbic, but can also be known as alluring & pragmatic. in a sticky situation, they will resort to fight mode and their current weapon is an axe. 

hello everyone ! below the cut is nikola’s bio. content warnings include: traumatic pregnancy, reference to a series of sniper murders in long island in 1994, organized crime, and infidelity.

( melissa barrera. cis female. she/her. )  /  LETICIA VILLALOBOS ORTIZ has been with the group for one week and is currently doing their part in the community as a scout. while here, thirty year old has created the reputation of being irreverent & capricious, but can also be known as solicitous & coquettish. in a sticky situation, they will resort to flight mode and their current weapon is a ka-bar. 

trigger/content warnings: parental death, murder, traumatic birth, drug use ( brief mention ), abuse.