#EXCLUSIVESTARTER. open to @rcttencore.
⟢ LOCATION. the clubhouse.
◝ ⟢ ˖ since cordelia was on medical duties most of the time, it happened often that she could skip other responsibilities in the community. she hardly ever had to sanitize, do inventory, or cook. however, this last one was a job she thoroughly enjoyed. so, from time to time, she offered to prepare a meal for everyone, knowing very well she could do a lot with very little and the results would be rather amazing. busy with the task of chopping vegetables, she blindly reached for the oil when she realized it wasn’t where she had left it. “ hey, could you please pass me the oil ? ” she asked gently to the person she felt was around, her soft attitude a rare one, yet understandable due to the place she was in and the thing she was doing. when she didn’t receive an answer, she stopped the chopping and turned her head. “ darling, ” the insistence was sharp, less gentle this time. “ could you please pass me the oil ? ”
if a situation was difficult, she had a knack to make it impossible. her set of skills didn't belong in a patrol, or a garden, or on scrubbing. even less in a kitchen, could she even remember the last time she'd done anything that required more than a toaster. which was prohibited now. too much useless power drain. not only was she barred of any basic necessities, there were the people. two months into whatever this was did not make her agreeable. playing nice wasn't in her rulebook. and there was this expectation. always some fucking expectations. to cooperate, to be active, to contribute. she just wanted her fucking stale bread. ❛❛ i heard you the first time. ❜❜ loud and clear, edge sharpened on the equal blade of cordelia's words. you shouldn't bite the hand that feeds. tongue never one to be bit, she camouflaged the sigh at the thought of doing so. stomachs were the easiest way to people's minds. deprived too much, they wouldn't listen. not enough, same result. but starved and teased with one good meal, they would do anything asked. biting off the magic hand of the healer wasn't wise. not now anyway. her act turned on, pretending she had been looking for it all along when asked initially, billie reached for the container holding the remaining oil, fabricated honey back on her lips when it's been handed off. ❛❛ do you need more help with that ? ❜❜
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🛠 » STATUS … OPEN (0/4)
🛠 » LOCATION … APARTMENT BUILDING ROOFTOP OVERLOOKING THE SUPPLY ROUTE BETWEN PROTECTED COMMUNITIES
there was no knowing the precise schedule for military patrols nor supply convoys passing through. miles had spent a couple of weeks observing them from afar, tracking the movements of guards protecting the lives of those stationed somewhere nearby. there were rumors, guesses, of the protected locations, but they differed from person to person, which could either mean that no one knew where the communities were located or that someone was indeed correct, but there was no way of knowing which whisper was correct without risking putting oneself in danger. every step was risky now, every decision could be your last. with that in mind, miles was more than fine to observe some more until he gained enough intel to decide on the next step in his plan.
relying on silence and keeping a low profile, miles preferred to observe from a distance or from a certain height that would buy him some time to escape in case something unexpected were to take place. right before sunset, miles swiftly entered an abandoned apartment building, climbing all the way to the rooftop for a better view of the surrounding streets. it had become some sort of a habit of his by now. scavenge for supplies, secure a spot for the night, and climb somewhere high to observe. this evening happened to be one of note. miles marked down the approximate time and location in his notebook before resuming his surveillance.
this time, it was only a couple of military convoys. most likely transferring supplies. given the inconsistent schedule, there had to be a reason behind such timing. running low on supplies, perhaps? miles' train of thought was interrupted by the sound of something or someone climbing up the ladder, causing him to reach for the knife attached to his right thigh. he quietly positioned himself facing the spot where the intruder would soon reveal themselves. miles held his breath for a long moment until he spotted another survivor climb up. he had seen them around before, but that was not enough for him to remove his hand from the knife. ❝ this rooftop is occupied. ❞ miles stated without raising his voice, fingers slowly wrapping around the hilt of his knife, eyes fixed on the stranger.
being in a community wasn't what she wanted. neither was being alone. so naturally, clinging to the only person she could had lead her from one shitty situation to the next. and now, she had been asked to ' contribute ' more. instead of drawing the short end of a straw, she'd selected the highest threat level task. it was bound to be leverage if she made it in one piece, and every inches mattered now. as long as she was out with the scavenging party, no one would be able to tell her she wasn't ' contributing '. what was there to assist for ? a survivalist lifestyle that wouldn't matter in a few months when the most brillant minds would crack this case ? ridiculous, it's a disease. a cure will be found. it had to. so yes, she walked a scouting path along the team, with her eyes glued on not getting more gunk on her shoes than on untouched, hidden supplies. it lead them to an abandoned neighborhood, quiet enough for the task to find a suitable housing wasn't necessitating pairs.
slowly dimming light made her look up, a clement sky perfect for a sunset view. that brought her to an apartment building, fire escapes ladders calling her name. reaching the top, a voice froze her as a greeting. a voice that didn't belong to one of her own. a gasp is swallowed, startled eyes narrowed, a quick wit triggered like a gun ready to shoot, ❛❛ if you stab me, i'll scream. ❜❜ there was no point in begging for her life. not because she didn't cherish it, only because there was little to no value in immediately surrendering a debt to someone she didn't know yet. no, a well place scream would alert her ' companions ', the convoy they were half scouting for, or worse. then, both of their lives would face a far larger threat than the knife at his thigh. a gamble to be certain, one she assessed to be in her favor. the man wouldn't have offered a warning had he harbored a death wish.
the remainder of the climb was slow, intentions well announced that going back down was not in the cards. no falter in her steps was shown, curled lips in a disgusted snarl was due to the the wipes of dirty hands on dirtier pants. ❛❛ . . . you're going to make me miss the sunset. ❜❜ it didn't matter to her that she was supposed to look for anything that could help. the high view wasn't possible in cedar grove. perhaps the top of the wall would half compare, though her reach had yet to wrap around the military guarding the perimeter that would had allow her a climb. in and out, that was what she'd wanted this spot to be, a last indulgence before camping out and trailing back home.
Is that WILHELMINA “BILLIE” BLACKWELL? Before the outbreak, the 31-year-old worked as a CORPORATE LAWYER. Those who have crossed paths with them describe them as QUICK-WITTED, though pressure often reveals their VINDICTIVE nature. They are often associated with HANDS TANGLED IN TOO MANY STRINGS YOU’RE PULLING / DIRTY NAILS ITCHING FOR A MANICURE THEY’LL NEVER GET AGAIN FLIPPING YOU OFF / BLOOD STAINED DESIGNER SHOES ON BROKEN PAVEMENT / CALCULATING GLARE IN DARK EYES DEMANDING HER WAY.
𝒊.
full - name : wilhelmina makoto blackwell .
nicknames : billie - preferred name .
age : thirty-one .
birth date : november 8th .
gender identity : ciswoman .
pronouns : she / her .
orientation : bisexual .
place of birth : new york city, new york.
occupation : lawyer for her father's firm and businesses.
face - claim : reina hardesty .
𝒊𝒊.
height : five foot , four inches .
hair : dark, used to always be kept freshly cut bellow her shoulders, at a perfect length to keep either down, or to style for the appropriate event. now, as washed as they can be, bordering a dire need of a cut, ends that will get ruined by choppy scissors or knife .
eyes : dark brown .
scars : small scar inside her left palm and on top of her left foot from a freak accident in a kitchen, barely months old long lash at her thigh .
piercings : both lobes, right helix, and a rebellious belly button piercing .
sun : scorpio . moon : capricorn . rising : libra .
myers - briggs : entj - commander .
alignment : lawful evil .
enneagram : the challenger .
soul - type : the king .
temperament : choleric .
element : water .
LIFE;
● the blackwell name isn't one turn a blind eye to, especially not in new york. from lawyers firms to banking associations, you're bound to find one of dean blackwell's kin in the fine prints. an uncle, a cousin, a brother, it doesn't matter, one will be involved in anything that screams power. ownership is the name of the game, his family understood that a legacy ago, and he was hellbent on keeping it going.
● the first failure in the bloodline came in a daughter rather than a firstborn son to take on the title of heir. or so he thought, because after a single look in the baby's eyes, dean knew a lot more would fall for a new blackwell charm.
● and billie grows up to meet her father's expectations. beautiful, cutthroat, and driven ; she was raised to be looking out for herself, and what's best for her goals and her family's. and she never cared for the nasty stares that came along with a difficult choice had to be made. acquiring a family owned business to grow the blackwell empire ? done thing. having to trick them doesn't phase her, the fall of tears over fresh ink on new disgusting contract is white noise. if anything, she thrived in the chaos she could bring with a snap of her fingers. she makes her father forget that he wanted a son at all when she can close deals with a deceptive smile. but he is easy to impress. for some reason, her mother never seems satisfied with her achievements.
● no matter what she does, there is always something more that could've been done. perfection is the bare minimum for misa, and billie is far from perfect.
● always a detail missing, always a false move made. and it's not like billie isn't trying. she does everything her mom asks of her. goes to the school she wants, into the field she wants, with the highest grades like she wants. but it's never enough.
● she spends most of her life trying to prove to her that she can keep up with the family business. interns for her father, works insane hours, catches any redeye to attend meetings, builds her own web of connections. but any success is never attributed to her, always to someone else that surely had to help her.
OUTBREAK;
● in may, she was landing from one of those redeye when first news started to come out of overfilling hospitals and canceled flights. little did she know, it was one of the last place to ever deboard passengers. her father had business in los angeles, and this new hysteria going on online wasn't anything real. it had to be the new trend, it would die down after the month.
● that is, until it isn't online anymore. it hits the city from the inside, and it eats away at anything it touches. sick people get sicker, dead people get . . . more alive. it's a shit show and she's stuck in a a hotel room until the military miraculously get to them.
● they're taken to a shelter up north, outside of the city, awaiting the craze to die down. but at this way, she knew it was only wishful thinking. still, she had to hold onto something, had to stay strong for a father that always believed in her and believed they would get out of this. believed they would go back home and find her mom again. he wanted it more than she did, as horrible as it might sound. out of the two, she is at least glad to be stuck miles away in chaos and confusion with him.
● but the shelter didn't last. of course it didn't. on the outskirts of the city, it still was too close. it had been a matter of time before the walls crumbled, with thinning military presence as they had been deemed expendable not high value enough.
● they somehow get out, but not without paying a price. the scramble for the exits is the worst part. everyone stepping on each other, shots aimed in the sea of people only trying to save themselves. they got out pushing and shoving, unscathed. or almost. her father had gotten grabbed in the attempt, not that he told her about it.
● traveling north following the coastline, they set their sight on ventura county. she had a few clients there, and surely the less dense area wouldn't have been touched by whatever it was that was plaguing the city.
● they met gabriel, out on a quest of his own to find someone he holds dear, and with him being local to the area, it made sense to stick together. as much as she hated it and let him know. but her father was getting more disoriented. probably just in need of more water, or good food they hadn't had in weeks.
● the infection turns too much to handle, the fever breaks and it stops them in the search for the other man's half. but he'll pull through. he had to pull through, he couldn't leave her here, alone with a stranger she can't stand and away from home. and maybe he had heard her pleas, because in the night, he tried to take her with him. whatever it was that made everyone go violent is exactly what he got, despite her wishes. being attacked by your own father, the only one that truly ever loved you and saw you for the prize you were, almost stunned her to her own demise. survival instincts she never knew she had kicked in, and the first thing she can grab ended right against the skull of her only real family. the smashing motion only stopped when his did, and gabe had to pull her away from what she'd done.
● traveling as a duo now, the only reason she turned more agreeable to all the detours and searches was the numbness for a few days. the real moment she had realized she had to trust him now hadn't been when he'd helped her wash the blood off of her, but when they had gotten caught by more infected people, and without him, she'd have met a similar end to her father. he didn't leave her behind, he didn't let her get hurt. and she didn't let him either. he might be the only person she'll ever trust again. they now find themselves arriving into a community after what had felt like forever since they saw any glimpse of civilization, and she clings to him like the last lifeline she'd be given.
COMMUNITY ;
coming soon !
tl;dr */ ; a traumatized manipulative nepobaby that has no business being alive months into an apocalyptic scenario. voted most likely to die in a zombie apocalypse by her class. the worse person you knew before somehow still the worse person you know now. if there is a way out of this, a way to make it work, she'll find it, although her own hands won't be dirtied further than they already were.
