– * technophile.

Why didn’t she wash her hair this morning - the first thought through her blonde head as she spotted the stranger. Cue the internal slap out of it as Madison put on her brightest smile, standing up and brushing the leaves as well as remnants of dirt off of her pink pants. “Here! I’ll let you use my shovel, I’d hate for you to hurt yourself. Never know what’s been hidden around… Once I stabbed my hand on a shard of glass.” Now she was rambling. 

Of course the place had already been taken. Freddie was the first to admit she wasn’t the smartest cookie in the jar, but she knew a good hiding spot when she saw one and she could also throw people over her shoulder rather than fiddle with wires. This stranger was a fiddler. “Yeah, I need somewhere to sleep.” Gesturing at the setting sun, she raised her brow before sighing, running a hand through her matted hair. Lord knows how much dirt was in the brown locks, they looked black at this point. “Whatever, I’ll find somewhere else.” 

Time to go find a tree.

SHE ISN’T KNOWN FOR WANDERING OPENLY too close to settlements or buildings at all when alone. If it looks like people call a place a home, she tends to give it a wide berth, preferring to avoid confrontation rather than end up in a situation in which she’s forced to choose between her own life and someone else’s.

It’s not so much that she WON’T protect herself, but that she prefers to keep things civil ( a detriment that has kept her on the fringes of most groups for whatever reason ) and do things with conversation rather than weapons. Though Isabella might now be skilled in fighting for her life, she preferred not to have to do it with someone else who wasn’t a biter.

At the sudden outburst ( and seeming attitude ) Isabella startled, tilting her head and pulling the hood she always wore in public further across her brow, the loose fabric across her mouth keeping her mostly from view, “I wasn’t looking for trouble. I just sort of ended up this way; I didn’t think anyone lived over here.”

It was true; Sint seemed to be good at covering his tracks and concealing his home, as she’d had no idea anyone even called the building theirs. Both hands came up to show she was unarmed – a thing she now knows is not always the best course but is instinct nonetheless – and murmurs, “I swear I wasn’t going to try anything.”

     ❛  well, rotters don’t really have the brains to construct or even begin to understand such a complex security system.  ❜  eyes shift towards the keypad, soft laugh brushing past his lips. the sound is foreign to him, something he hasn’t heard in weeks now and it feels kind of good. talking to someone else after just living with his video games and monitors is a blessing.  ❛  they certainly couldn’t be the ones living here.  ❜  

     sure, he hides his place well. sint lives quite the quiet life, using headphones for his games, music, and radios as to keep anyone outside the walls from hearing. it’s not like they’d hear, anyway. they weren’t paper thin walls. a half - smile is offered in return for her showing the lack of a weapon and his hands mimic the movements slowly to show he’s got nothing on him either.  ❛  it’s okay, i believe you.  ❜  even if she tried, there wasn’t a chance in hell that she’d get inside. just that thought, alone, gave him comfort. strangers tried all the time and usually gave up before they had the chance to consider blowing the door off or shooting until he caved. sint had a group come by just a few weeks ago that got frustrated enough that they blew one of the cameras out with the last of their ammo. it took him maybe a day and a half to fix up, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

       the task for the day had been to scrounge for more seeds. it did seem a bit random, and he supposed that others have probably sought the same goal, but it wasn’t that high a priority in many others’ lists. that’s what he told himself. make it feel like he had a chance. because, honestly, it was surprisingly difficult to acquire enough seeds to make produce of them.

       but he underestimated it all, and now found himself seeking refuge for the moment. he had only brought BONES with him, his german shepherd seeing-eye dog, and his only duty was to watch out for learco. he couldn’t sniff out the supplies he wanted, could only do so well at alerting him to the dead, and never thought much of those were alive unless it was learco who told him to attack. which, learco himself couldn’t easily do if he hadn’t known they were there. it made him vulnerable.

       and he was. because walking through town had awoken quite a few shackling walkers, and he didn’t think he could take that many on at once. sure, he had his spiked bat, but his aim wasn’t true due to his sight, and he couldn’t fend them all off at once while making sure his one and only best friend didn’t go down as well. he had seen some of his other trained dogs lose the fight to walkers, but didn’t think he could live another day if he lost bones.

       cue punching random codes into a warehouse he thought he could hide in. that was, until he heard a voice. the kennel master spun about, wide eyes trying to focus on the source. it was some guy, who didn’t seem to be holding a gun to his face, so that was good news. still, he held his weapon in both hands for a moment longer, then slowly lowered it. bones brushed his leg.

       ❝ sorry, ❞ he panted. he moved his head about, peripheral vision even worse, to make sure that no walkers had shown up around them yet. ❝ i was just trying to find someplace safe. i can’t fight too many biters at once. i hate to ask you of this but ── can i please come inside? at least until the dead are gone. then i’ll be on my way. i don’t like to be a BURDEN. ❞ never has, never will.

     animals don’t scare him, which is why the dog doesn’t make sint run the other way. he probably should have, but he doesn’t because he figures this intruder must be harmless if the dog hasn’t attacked just yet. perhaps sint is too trusting, too easily tricked into doing what others want, but he doesn’t care. if he dies because of trusting someone he shouldn’t, then so be it. it’s not like living in the world after an apocalypse is something worth fighting for.

     another dead giveaway of harmlessness was the lowering of the weapon. he doesn’t carry one of his own, so he’s completely defenseless. after all, the boy doesn’t stray far from his home at all  ––  that’s his weapon, his warehouse. it’s wired so intricately and carefully that it serves as an actual safe house. a panic room, as one might call it. but, it’s just a panic ... building ? 

     eyes scan the stranger for just another moment before his attention shifts to their surroundings. as far as he can see, there aren’t any of the infected dragging around, which could have been a sign the guy was lying, but sint just assumes that most people can outrun them to a certain extent.  ❛  ––  sure.  ❜  shrug lifts weighted shoulders, body pulling forward before he’s brushing past the stranger and punching in the code he’d memorized the second he came up with it. pushing the door open, sint just tossed his bag aside. he’s seemingly unbothered by the potential threat of an approaching zombie infestation. his warehouse is safe. it’s protected.  

     Another day of the same. Wake up, detach herself to whoever she’d clung onto that night, get dressed, sneak out and scavenge. Madison would spend hour after hour clambering over bushes, filling her bag up with as many cans, sticks and just about anything else that she was able to find. However, she loved it. She loved the fresh air, touching the leaves, running her fingers across abandoned buildings. Being free from those who would’ve once used her.

It was during one of these days that she heard it, a twig snapping behind her. Turning around, Madison held out her knife, ready to attack if any biters were to come out of the bushes.

     maybe he’s not the smartest for failing to carrying around a weapon that could actually help him during a zombie apocalypse. call him crazy for leaving his place without grabbing some kind of tool to use for defense outside the walls of his own little safe haven. the guy tends to run on luck. and, sint didn’t even realize someone else was around until they were turning around with a knife pointed his general direction. he might have been about ten feet away, but his hands still lifted in surrender, movements halting before the male is shaking his head once.  ❛  sorry. didn’t mean to scare you. i was just ... i saw some wires in the dirt over there. i was gonna go pick ‘em up.  ❜  

THERE WAS SOMETHING so peaceful about sitting outside during dawn. the sky was clear ; sun painting colours of orange and pink across the horizon. without noticing , the man started to hum the song he used to sing to his daughter to sleep when she was little. you are my sunshine .. my only sunshine .. he glanced at the sky, completely lost in thought. “ god damn it. ” elijah whispered to himself.

     home is similar to a prison, giving sint nothing too extravagant to look at except gray walls and bricks with hard floors. don’t get him wrong  ––  he loves staying inside and being alone, but the world outside is just so beautiful sometimes, and it wasn’t a surprise that he’d taken a pit stop to just look at the sky for a few moments. it wasn’t until he heard humming that his gaze shifted towards the man, hands wringing together in slight nervousness before his eyebrows furrowed and his throat was cleared.  ❛  ––  pretty fitting song.  ❜  maybe this is an attempt at a light joke, but it’s not looking too good for sint.  ❛  is it always this nice during dawn ?  ❜

a can of fruit, that’s all she wanted, mostly because that’s all roma ate ( being a vegetarian was really hard during times like these). instead she had been now listening to the same stranger speak for what felt like an eternity at the door of the store she was just about to get out off. if she was honest she had stop listening about thirty seconds into the conversation and it was mostly cause the girl was starving but also because she didn’t really care. “ look whatever you’re on about truly fascinates me but well honestly no, i couldn’t care less so take your soppy story to someone else that might care” 

     scavenging is a specialty of his. unlike her, sint didn’t come into the store for food. he came to pick up some spare parts for a new radio he’d been building. somehow, after stumbling across the stranger, it was just in his nature to talk out loud about his ideas. don’t be fooled, though, because he’s mostly talking to himself. worst part might be that sint hadn’t really noticed that he was doing it until she snapped.  ❛  ––  hey, don’t take out your hangry mood on me.  ❜  the words left quicker than intended, body turning to face the woman before his shoulders lifted in return.  ❛  i know you didn’t come into this store just for leftover scraps of metal.  ❜  

     one hand falls from the strap of his backpack, head just barely canting as he offers a half - smile. of course, he’s the only one who knows the numbers by heart. sixteen different options and about a quadrillion different combinations that could have been possible. getting inside without knowing the code is nearly impossible.  ❛  can i help you with something ?  ❜  eyebrows raise in slight curiosity, backpack nearly overflowing with different devices and electronic parts that he’d managed to score in a nearby town  ––  one that was deserted completely. he had things to do, wires and buttons to inspect. besides, he hasn’t seen an actual person in days, maybe even weeks. his sociability skills may be a little rusty.