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evelyn harlow › thirty2 . cis - woman + she / her . chaplain . riverside resident .
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@slcughterd
𑣲 slcughterd — an independent multi-muse blog * ˎˊ˗
evelyn harlow › thirty2 . cis - woman + she / her . chaplain . riverside resident .
about › threads › tasks › musings › pinterest

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Cruelty is something he’s familiar with, because he has been afforded a mercy to it all his life. He remembers how harsh the world was before: his neighbors fighting, the violence, the poverty— all of it now just seemed like an echo of the world. The trauma is a leftover thing, an expectation of being human in today’s world, but no one has it better or worse than each other now. They’re all… equal, in a twisted way. He expects people to be untrusting and to be harsh, probably having to do things he doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to be able to understand. He himself can be too harsh but he’s also softer than most: a trait everyone hates. It’s gotten him into things he regrets but he also has regrets for not being kind enough. It’s a catch and he has to feel it out sometimes: should he threaten or should he help? He doesn’t always know.
But he knows what it’s like to be out there alone and afraid, and he wonders if the regret of not acting will be worse than just doing it in the end.
He listens as he goes through the items, his face void of emotion like usual. It’s just how he’s learns to be, knowing that others being able to read him is a huge mistake. Even if he’s kind, he doesn’t have to be nice. He takes a couple of the canned items and stacks them, leaving them on the floor as he kneels. So, she’s alone and vulnerable, or she’s alone and highly capable of surviving on her own. He hesitates to say anything or react, slowly looking her up and down. She doesn’t give him the vibe of being evil, but he doesn’t trust that she could be as innocent as she is. But he knows there is still innocence out there.
He knows what it had been like, in a worse way: the hospital hadn’t been safe but they’d had no other choice but to wait for his leg to heal, to fit him for something to be able to walk. They’d seen how bad and emotional things could get firsthand. People sick, children dying, patients turning quicker than most. And parents at a loss. He was only alive because someone else had taken pity on him anyway.
“You’re not.” He’s as honest with her as he can be. “No one is actually safer alone unless they have skills. Do you have any?” Maybe it’s rude to say but the people he knows that survived had to be brutal enough to: that is a skill. A cutthroat nurse had saved him, not a soldier, not a firefighter, not a cop. So he doesn’t put faith in roles but adaptability. “Or do you think you’re just lucky?”
evelyn remembers blood curdling screams piercing the air, billows of smoke rising to the heavens above as a fire consumes what was left of the rotten church. flies buzzing around already ripe sacrifices, left out under the harsh sun to decompose in front of everyone- the warnings. the offerings. she'd grow so accustomed to the smell of decay, rotten flesh and stale blood. she'd know the smell on her own hands, sin disguised as worship. she remembers the morning light cascading over the horizon, the piles of ash and rubble and bones left before her. her shadow a hungry ghost at her side, stretched thin out to the ruins. and she thought, perhaps being alive still was her punishment for all she'd done. the question didn't feel rude, it felt like a test. he wasn't asking her how skilful she was as much as the stranger was asking what had she done to survive.
"both, i guess.." perhaps evelyn should have considered herself lucky that she spent all these years creating herself in the image of what the covenant asked of her, cultivate a garden and forage for food, dress and prepare livestock- and above all how to be obedient. she could live through this if she could just play her role. "i can forage food and basic medicinals, and i can help grow a garden if you give me a bit of time." a good homemaker, a good wife- a thing to keep the others around her alive. washing the wounds lashed in the name of god, praying with bruised knees to a cold, black night. please, she wants to beg before she's a pile of bones left in the forest. please let me be enough to help. "but the forests are getting more dangerous, the fields over run, and old settlements are infested everywhere i go. there's just more of them. too many to stay anywhere for too long it seems, but god's kept me safe for this long. perhaps he will a little longer."
the whole time she speaks, her movements are so still, and her voice careful not to be too loud. afraid to make any too sudden movements that gives the stranger the wrong idea, and afraid to draw any unwanted attention. still in motion, but half ready to take flight. nevertheless there's hope in her soft eyes, "why do you come out alone then if it's not safe?"
in all her time here at new eden, she really never thought she'd be doing something like this. up on stage singing songs, next to blue and his band... their band. he'd joked before they went on stage that this was their biggest gig yet. of course she laughed because all it really was, was the 15 year anniversary of new eden. 15 years of survival. it was something to celebrate. it had taken the woman enough time to settle in here; two years to be exact. but eventually, she's come to think of this place as home.
their last song was one of the only where rhi actualy sung. their harmonising voices had filled the hall and everyone else had grown silent to listen to them. it still felt like she was a little kid again. somewhere deep inside her, she was singing up on stage with her sister. that part of her ached. once sunbleach had finished the song, she and the rest of the band stepped off the stage to let northsiders clean up the stage for some announcement or something. for a moment, her sisters voice echoed in the distance among the chatter. all the other voices drowned it out but, she didn't just hear it... she felt it. evelyn.
thank god their 'backstage area' was right next to the backdoors to the hallway. her head was starting to spin from all the people, the noise, the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest. the woman reached for her pocket, hoping to find relief in the rare cigarette she had in her possession. that was until she heard her again. she made it to the door just as her not-so-dead sister started to pull her back in.
all these years, all this time — rhiannon had grown so much since the covenant. grown up so much. it was strange how even the sound of someone's voice could make you feel like a kid again. rhi was so still in their embrace, she couldn't help it. this didn't feel real, at least the young woman didn't feel like she was in her body anymore. it was more like she was watching herself in a third person, watching herself shut down. evelyn on the other hand, seemed to be the opposite. all rhiannon could do was stare back at her sister. words started to come from her lips but she still couldn't get mind and body to align. her thoughts were racing. "i— i don't? h-how are you..? when did you get he-" all her questions were were just her feeble attempt to understand what was happening. "you're alive," rhiannon whispered to her sister. not a question, but a statement. that was the only part that at least made sense.
her heart an undone spool, the hymns unsung between them pressed to wordless melodies. glistening fairy lights that decorate the streets begin to feel more like sun kissed skies flooding through stain glass windows. the words of god fill her mouth like blood, coating her throat until it burns like a prayer. her fingers fun through the back of rhiannon's hair, just as they'd done endless times when they were just children, soft songs shared between them. just as evelyn would each time she couldn't find the words to say sorry i couldn't protect you. all those times she couldn't look her in the eye for all the world had done to them. "i thought you died," her whisper was so quiet, caught in her throat as tears burn her cheeks. she remembered it, the fire engulfing her, hellfires reaching the heavens, casting orange hues over all of them as the smoke billows into the sky. heavy ashen clouds suffocating the sun. she thought she lost her to the anger of a god, or perhaps the mercy. but she couldn't bring herself to believe it, all these years searching for a ghost because without that what was evelyn living for?
she wants to say she didn't stop praying for her, that every day she offered everything she had to a god she didn't think was listening just for any hope to have her back. but it feels wrong to stain this reunion with such a thing, instead she steps back slightly loosening her embrace of rhiannon just to bring her hands to her sister's face. it's hard not to see all the differences, she was so young when evelyn first lost her, now stood before her is someone who was able to grow into their own person outside of the influence. but her eyes, ever knowing pools reflecting the world upon them, they were the same. deep universes, holding too much pain, too much wisdom in this collapsed world.
"i'm sorry rhi, i'm sorry it took me this long to find you."
He’s in tune with body language; it seems to be the one language all humans understand these days, fluent and universal amongst one another as they draw communities tighter and tighter. He’s understood it even before he could speak, and speaking was always a little hard, but it speaks louder from this stranger. There’s only the silence of the wind blowing between them and they look scared. That’s his first sign that maybe he won’t have to fight his way out of this. That’s good because he’s tired. He waits one second and then two and then he kneels down, immediately going to rifle through the supplies as the stranger begins to speak.
He doesn’t normally answer questions but there’s a tone to her voice that compels him to at least look her up and down. Maybe she’s the type to lure people in with her innocence and then strikes to kill but he’s not waiting around to find out. Or maybe she’s alone and utterly desperate for any help she can get. He’s taken risks on both kinds of people before and he’s lived through it, but he still doesn’t answer the question. If he’s alone, she might think it’s easier to kill him. If she’s alone, he might think it’s easier to kill her. Do any of them win?
“Are you?” He hesitates on the several canned items, just in case she needs to be on her way. The one thing he isn’t desperate for is food and if he doesn’t indulge her in help, he can at least send her on her way with that. It’s less like killing a person that way. “Are you alone?”
every words spoken between them carried so much weight, they always seemed to between strangers these days. feet still planted in their spot on the gravel, heavy in her heels and hoping that if anything goes wrong she'll be quick enough to run. evelyn remembers the first time she was face to face with a survivor who didn't know her, the first person outside of the covenant she'd seen since the world went dark and the dead rose again to walk this earth. a gun in her face, one stranger shouting at her while the other pleads for it to stop. they were rough, they were cruel at least to begin with, but she had always been warned that the outside world was cruel- she just hoped like many things she knew it had been a lie. she still hopes though, because she knows fear and cruelty go hand in hand and everyone's afraid of something. so she just has to be something not to fear.
her eyes fixated on the man before her as he leans down to the bag, watching every move of his hands with caution. "it's just me," there's hesitation in her reply, hoping it's the right thing to do- to put trust into this stranger. but evelyn was still a long way from knowing how to trust her instincts, after all her whole life had been spent swallowing her intuition until it ached her insides. even now she didn't know what really was her intuition and what was the taught voice echoing in her head. fear.
"i was with a group before," she'd only known them a few weeks, they were kind enough to let her shelter with them. "the infected found us, and a few days later two of them started having fevers." all of these people she hardly knew screaming at each other, how to handle their friends- their family. denying it was an infection, denying it was anything to worry about, pleading for life even though they were already on the brink of death. there's a pause before she speaks again, wondering if it's enough to explain herself in such a way. "i didn't want to stay there for the outcome.." the truth was there was violence and brutality, a line had begin to draw between them and sides had to be taken. you were either for or against, and the whole time was the pending threat of the virus taking them all down. that was the reality evelyn knew would happen when they started disputing. "i don't know if i'm much safer alone though if i'm being perfectly honest." she offers the stranger the hint of a warm smile, hoping for empathy- compassion. hoping that it's okay to trust him.
FIFTEEN YEARS STANDING. somewhere near old city hall. ( event 001 : open starter : georgia / anyone )
georgia had been asked, gently but repeatedly, to stop doing her job for one night.
it hadn’t worked.
she stood near one of the long tables set up outside city hall, fingers wrapped around a cup she’d already refilled once, quietly sorting a small pile of salvaged bandages back into her bag after tending to a minor cut someone had picked up in the crowd. nothing serious. it never was, until it was. the music carried on behind her, laughter rising and falling, lights flickering overhead like they were trying their best.
once she was finished, she zipped the bag closed and finally looked up, realizing she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “sorry,” she said lightly, glancing at whoever had ended up watching her. “old habits.” her expression softened, the apology quiet and unforced. “i promise i’m off duty. mostly.”
she shifted aside to give them space at the table, attention drifting back toward the crowd. “it’s strange seeing everyone like this,” she added after a beat. “i keep waiting for something to go wrong.” her shoulders eased as she caught herself, then she exhaled. “but i’m trying not to.”
gentle chatter carried into air, string lights draped the streets and intertwined with the vibrant sky above, and evelyn felt guilty for not being able to relax on this joyous occasion. she could have sworn the bodies that moved in the dark out of the corner of her eye could have been a walker, and every time someone laughed to loudly it would echo as a scream in her head. she hadn't been around this many people all at once since the covenant, since home. but that was a sentiment she'd been trying to distance lately.
evelyn didn't mean to get caught staring at the medical supplies against the table, but she couldn't help but freeze at the thought something had already gone wrong. it was still early in the celebrations, and all she could think was fear, and blood, and how it had been a long time since she'd seen a celebration for something other than control. "it just means you care even when no one's asking you to."
she takes the seat next to georgia, offering her warmest smile in attempts to melt away the unease she felt. "i know it's silly, but i didn't realise how many people there were here." pausing on the thought, her eyes dancing over the crowd of new eden- all the territories she hadn't even seen yet coming together. "it's nice though don't you think, seeing everyone enjoy themselves like this. it's sweet, and maybe contagious?"

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Scavenging almost feels normal to him sometimes. Just rummaging through things, collecting things, organizing them by importance: it reminds him of grocery lists, one of the oldest telltales of humanity. Humans always needed things, and he kept every little list, ink scribbled down onto scraps of paper or napkin, anything they could find so he wouldn’t forget. Maybe it was silly to do, but there was a chance that the notes left behind would be someone’s last memory, the remains of what they used to be. People tended to die so easily and he’d discovered that early on in life. But now? Nothing was ever permanent and he himself knew it, knowing that one day one of these runs may be his last.
The weather is bad: which is good. He tended to have better luck when the conditions weren’t ideal. People tended to stay in place when it was bad weather and the conditions often confused the dead. But if there was a storm, he would feel it coming. His body always ached when it did and he could smell it, used to the damp air. He tries to make it quick: shaking things into his own bag, discarding the others so he wouldn’t drag back any recognition. There’s things they need and there’s things that have no use: wrappers, garbage, all reminders of people who were loved once. Now all they need is what they can get: expired medications, food, supplies, batteries.
When the air shifts, he knows he isn’t alone and it’s silly of him to think he would be. When he spots her, he immediately braces his knees and steadies his gait, expecting her to do something. Run at him, shoot, scream? His hand finds his hip, the blade sheathed there so she sees, but he doesn’t draw it just yet. There’s always the diagram that flips throughout his mind, figuring out how he’s perceived to others. Is he a threat or a possibility for them to overthrow?
rustling of wind was the only noise heard for miles around, carrying discarded litter down the desolate street. winter dulled the usual hum of insects, and the clouds above seemed to suffocate whatever was left. evelyn was starting to feel it now, stood there without even a breath raising her chest. hesitance heavy in her stance, and fear gripping every ounce of her. she doesn't know what's worse, standing before another human or a walker- they both seemed just as dangerous as each other. lips parting ever so slightly as if she was about to speak, but the words don't find their way out, as she slowly raises her hands in surrender. she'd never been one to fight when her life was in danger, most times she's not even sure she'd know how to because her survival had only ever been reliant on one thing, her compliance.
"it's yours," the words softer than she intended, not daring to look away from the stranger. "just please let me walk away without harm." fear almost gripping the words in her throat, but she manages them this time. she manages her plea. what a dangerous thing to ask from a stranger though, putting your life in the hands of a stranger. to trust that it would suffice if she simply walked away and let them keep it to themselves. but she was tired, and hungry, and knew that whatever was in that bag was never going to be worth her own life.
"are you alone?" it almost felt as if her words carried down with the wind, as she prayed they were quiet enough not to draw any extra attention. she was alone, but it didn't feel like the kind of information she wanted to offer up first. alone with just a knife at her side, and a handgun now rendered useless without any bullets left. she never had been a good shot.
location: the streets.
purpose: opening event.
He sits low in a weathered chair near the edge of the square, one boot hooked around the leg like he’s daring it to run. The music and laughter wash over him without quite touching, a half-empty bottle resting loose in his hand as his sharp eyes track the crowd. He sees the tells. The too-tight smiles, the hands that won’t stop moving, the ones drinking like they’re trying to drown fifteen years in a single night. Smuggling teaches you that. Teaches you how to read what people don’t say. Gus takes a slow pull from his drink, grumbles under his breath about wasted good alcohol, and then catches someone looking his way. He lifts the bottle in a small salute, mouth twitching. “Ya gonna keep starin’ or d'ya want a seat?” he asks, voice rough but not unkind.
He reaches into the crate at his feet and nudges a beer across with his boot, the gesture casual, unthreatening. “Relax,” he adds, leaning back, eyes still on the crowd instead of them. “No deals tonight. No favors, no debts. Just… survivin’ long enough to sit still and watch folks pretend the world’s normal again.” A pause, then softer, almost thoughtful. “Fifteen years is a long damn time. Figure it’s worth a drink with a stranger. Sometimes that’s how you remember what you’re still fightin’ for.”
evelyn had been told new eden was big, but she hadn't realised just how many people would be bustling around the streets. she hadn't seen this many people alive all in one spot since, well since home. it was unsettling. she hadn't noticed it until someone had spoken up, but she'd been holding her breath this entire time. just stood there staring in awe, in dread. almost afraid to make a sound despite the joyous laughter that surrounded her.
she swallowed back the embarrassment that washed over her for being caught mid fixation on someone who was simply enjoying their night, wondering how it was they looked so comfortable in all of this.
"thank you," she mustered the politeness as she took the seat next to the man, looking down to the beer he nudged her way for perhaps a little too long. evelyn wouldn't know what normal felt like, she didn't have- this. they had ceremonies sure, but they were different. for the first time in a long time, she didn't know what to do with her hands. it was becoming increasingly more evident to evelyn every moment that passed, that maybe she should have stuck to what she knew. "i don't think it's my celebration to have, i only just got here." focusing her attention back to the man in front of her, her hands folded in her hap she offered the softest of smiles. it was supposed to be warm, and gentle, but in this moment she wasn't sure it would break through her discomfort. "but it's nice, seeing something last this long out here these days. to be doing more than just surviving."
location : outside new eden status : flashback , closed for : cato thanawit , @thanawindecay
dreary was the overhead sky, dark clouds cloaking the late afternoon sun and all that could be heard was the gradual gusts of wind that disturbed nearby trees. evelyn carefully tracked through the long abandoned settlement, but just because there wasn't a soul in sight didn't mean she could feel at ease. it had felt like weeks now, walking through these desolate locations, one slow step in front of the other- she was running low on water, and her stomach had been aching for days, but there wasn't a choice. it was foolish to stay in one place too long, she'd seen the way the undead would always find these bunkers. that was if they hadn't destroyed themselves from the inside out first. and a place like this, already rummaged and ransacked, she knew she never could be truly alone here.
so each step over broken glass was cautious, and she did her best to remain vigilant searching for what she needed before she moved on again. it felt so out of place when she finally saw it, a bag thrown to the ground, items half scattered outside of it. thrown away in some last last-ditch effort. evelyn starts rushing towards it, impatient to find what contents were inside, but she should have known better. she stopped herself too late, out in the open, staring at another survivor. her heart raced, you never knew who you were coming across, and you didn't know what they'd do for another last chance at survival.
location : old city hall , nothside status : event 001 , closed for : rhiannon harlow , @r0tdclivered
bodies piled into the song laced hall, seeing this many people illuminated by the delicate string lights. joyous for the occasion, mulling around with this ease that evelyn couldn't quite find in herself. usually when she saw this many bodies all in one place they were in piles, left out in the harsh sun, forgotten as the overgrowth began to shroud them. she tried not to envision her sister out there, lost to time beneath one of these graveyard piles. just as she tried not to think about flames lapping at her ankles, engulfing the building around her- crumbling to ashes by the time she awoke again. evelyn had to believe all this time that she was out there still, whispering to god out in the open night air, hands clutched together every day- please god, let her be safe.
for over half a decade she'd been out there searching, praying- hoping. but evelyn never stopped to imagine how it would happen, she didn't imagine it be as as a familiar voice carrying a song through a repurposed hall that caused her to stop in her steps, staring up at the stage. she didn't know the way her heart would race as she saw the fleeting images of the woman she knew as a girl. her breath caught in her throat, it couldn't be. still she raced forward, through the sea of people, trying desperately to keep sight of the person who'd just left the stage. her singing still ringing a distant memory in her ears, "rhiannon!" her desperate voice cracks as the name crystallises like sugar in her mouth. frantically avoiding others as she loses sight of her for brief moments, reaching out she fears she's gone once more, just a ghost haunting her in unfamiliar faces. the effort beginning to feel futile, the girl that was singing up on stage starting to feel more like a hallucination, still she follows outside. and there, under the warmth of string lights on this glimmering night, she sees her. a gasp at her lips and evelyn's rushing towards her to draw rhiannon in for a tight embrace before she even realises it, her heart pooling with warmth that overflows and streams out as tears. "oh my god, it's you. it's really you."
have you crossed paths with ( evelyn harlow ) in new eden? people describe them like ( growing soft in your speech, soft in your thoughts ; praying with your knees in the dirt, but the gods do not answer ; iridescent light cascading into your eyes, beautifully blinding )—the kind of details you notice when you’re watching someone closely. they’ve survived long enough to claim a place as a ( chaplain ), operating out of ( riverside ). depending on who you ask, they’re ( altruistic ) or just as easily ( reticent ) when things go wrong. these days, they keep to ( river church ) at least, that’s where they’re usually spotted. around the city, they’re known as ( the broken bird ). interesting, isn’t it? survival has a way of making everyone memorable. ( suki waterhouse, she/her, cis woman, thirty-two. )
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A Short Film About Love (1988) dir. Krzysztof Kieslowski
Tenderness and Rot, Kay Ryan