I can bury and build.

She gazed at a pretty dancer on the makeshift stage. Her body twirled beneath dim yellow lights. Valerie wondered about the girl’s life before the outbreak. Which of her dreams died when the world fell apart? Did she expect to end up here, stripping to please the soulless audience staring at her? It wasn’t a sad thought to Val, but curious. She leaned over and spoke to the person beside her. 

“Isn’t she gorgeous? It’s a shame we don’t have dollar bills. I’d love to throw some at her.”

Mouse was entranced, watching how her body moved, a thing of perfection. Mouse could understand how such movement could inspire lust, but Mouse could only see the aesthetic beauty in it, especially in a situation like the Den where lust is all that is paraded. The woman next to him was clearly as interested, though Mouse wasn’t sure if she felt the exact same as him.

“Money? That was... What you did? For dancers like her?”

@mousebiermann​

First there was a flicker. Joel already set his beer down, a shock of panic sobering him up when the lights went out completely. Panic ensued. Of course it did. Those goddamn walkers in their cages seemed louder, roused by the screaming or simply the first sounds he picks up with the adrenaline rush. Joel didn’t waste a second. He probably knocked a stool over as he got up from the bar. Barking orders out—telling Johnson to get off his ass and shut the hell up, for Sosa to round up the others — then, “Mouse! You’re with me!”

it had been a long time since neve had really taken the opportunity for any sort of leisure. work at the eastern oregon outpost had become more arduous as their numbers dwindled–specifically for medical staff–and then she’d been on her own. after being inside the golden triangle for the last six months, she’d been eager to prove she was worth the invitation. the den’s offer of festivities seemed like as good an opportunity as any to finally let herself relax. 

several drinks lit a gentle fire in her belly, relaxed in a way that felt so old and faraway from her day-to-day. robocop, with his inky black fur, hung close to her calf–largely unimpressed with the antics of their fellow survivors. he had once been more inclined to react to the living, but after such a long time on the road, he was largely unimpressed with people. 

for the most part, so was neve.

it was a common thing among people in the medical field. especially in smaller communities like this. it wasn’t like portland, before the outbreak, where most of the people she saw were bland and forgettable–lost in the school of fish that commuted by the max or carpooled from bedroom communities. no, in the golden triangle, people usually knew if you were medical. and if folks recognized you, well, they were bound to treat you like you were always on the clock. and here comes one now, neve thought sharply, as dan johnson headed her way–no doubt hoping to ask her about some rash, minor scratch, or other asinine thing she was not in the mood to assess. turning to her neighbor at the bar, she brandished a hopeful smile, mind still humming from a few drinks. “if you can save me from having to look at dan’s mole, i’ll get your next drink.” if they weren’t interested, well, dan was making good time on his beeline towards the both of them. they’d both be trapped in conversation.

He was nursing a beer at the bar, observing the large space. Every once in a while he would let out a laugh at some interaction he could see in the crowd, the most recent a woman slapping a man before charging off with a woman in tow. He didn’t mind being alone in the crowd right now, being the center of a group was sometimes tiring. Mouse went to take another drink and noticed his beer was empty. He turned around, ready to call over the bartender for another when the woman next to him leaned in close with a tight smile and called his attention to the man on a beeline towards them both. 

Dan Johnson. He was a Guard, and Mouse could instantly identify the look in his eye. Dan was always asking him if a certain mark was a developing rash or if a cut was infected. Mouse wasn’t sure how he was a Guard but he supposed the size and strength of the man was a boon for them. “Fuck-” Mouse dropped his head, thumping it lightly against the bar top. “Dan’s gross fucking mole.” Mouse had seen it up close too many times. He glanced at the woman. “Good thing I’m out. You owe me a beer.” He straightened up, heaving a deep sigh. Turning around, his entire demeanor changed, a bright smile and a loud greeting. 

“Dan? Dan! Dan the man! You out here enjoying the festivities too?” His eye caught on a few of his fellow Guards, looking at Dan’s back with varying looks of pity and horror. “How about you talk with the guys and I’ll keep your tab covered, huh?” That shut him up, cutting off his rambling about whatever medical issue was ailing him now. He steered Dan back to them, waving off their calls for him to join them. He knew they were all about to sit through Dan, and he would rather not. 

Fighting through the crowds back to the bar was a struggle, but Mouse made it back. He only now noticed the large dog next to her, remarkably well behaved for the chaotic space. “An hour of mind numbing conversation averted! Now you owe me a beer.” Now he was really observing this woman, and he could vaguely place her. Maybe... Did she reset that finger he couldn’t reduce himself a couple of weeks back? She was a nurse right? Mouse felt a brief flash of shame for not recognizing her before. “I’ve seen you before, right? You’re a nurse!” He smiled at her, this time genuine. “I’m Mouse, uh, Murphy. I don’t think I’ve ever caught your name.”