#decay.starter

event 001.

where : northside , outside of old city hall building.

✮⋆˙ of course leave it to northside to be the number one territory that seems to always have new eden kept glued. don’t get her wrong though, chakki isn’t opposed to the idea of a city-wide gathering in celebration of the fifteen years of this place still standing, at all. for as long as she's arrived at new eden, the northside has been her home. a home that she loves dearly, but also has gradually grown slight tired of. no one would knows, but lately she has been planning an escape from this, and not just going off to another territory but like possibly leaving new eden as a whole and search for what could— and is for sure beyond these walls.

chakki is a great time and so she’s really hoping that with this celebration— she can really be there to celebrate and there won’t be any mess that she has to add onto an incident report as her role as the records keeper.

when preparing to head the old city hall, just like any other place she's heading, whether it be small distance or large, chakki has brought her bike with her. when she reaches outside of the city hall building dressed in her long flowing maxi skirt and combat boots with her bike, she finally takes off her helmet, the silver rings on her fingers audibly cling against the helmet while she does, all while she feels a presence behind her at the same time.

chakki doesn't hesitate to turn and smile at the person behind her, ❝ waiting on me for us to go in there together? ❞ she places her helmet away then glances back at the person, but she pauses and makes a face following a deep dramatic sigh while she leans against her bike with crossed arms and glances back at the person again to gain their attention.

Location: nothside, old city hall

Purpose: event 001, open starter to all

Usually, noise made him nervous— there was safety in the quiet, in the absolute knowledge that quiet served a purpose. Even if it wasn’t extensively loud, he tries to kick the jitters and the feeling of jinxing safety by engaging in vulnerability, like the rest of them. Is it vulnerable to come as you are? When there’s safety in numbers, he doesn’t think there’s any other way. The overlook is what he’s used to; eyes keen on always finding something but there’s nothing here but bodies. Alive, joyous, celebratory. The best he can do is not add to the anxiety of everyone else, too used to trauma to hang onto the idea of hope. But there’s a small part of him that’s happy about it. Fifteen years is a long time. And as they pass by, they blend together, and a part of him still feels like time hasn’t passed. He might be the only one.

He decides that if the others are going to take the night off, he can at least try and follow by example. For the first time in forever, he removes his blade and sticks to a wheelchair, the prosthetic slung over the back of the chair. Can never be too careful. He’s never been to a party before and he isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do: talk to people, sit in the corner and drink? Alcohol has never been something he thinks highly of, given the situation— but he decides he can do anything else.

He busies himself by wheeling back and forth or in circles, either easing the tension of his companions or adding to their confusion: either way, he hopes it’s a welcome distraction. He nudges the reader with his good leg, prodding at their calf with his boot.

Purpose: starter, closed with @hushedisasters

Having the best medical care you could possibly have at the time creates a pyramid of wait, and a certain level of need that has to be hit before anyone deemed it necessary. They didn’t tell each other that but they all often self-practiced this idea of waiting until the last possible moment. Feeling the intensity of something that might be handled on its own often pushed them to their extremes but they were hypocrites and that’s how hypocrites live so long. Cato can’t say he’s much different.

But now, he doesn’t have much of a choice. His leg is blistering and red, something like a sunburn he would get when he was younger and didn’t listen to his mother’s rules around sunblock, but he doesn’t very much see the sun these days. Here and there, he avoids it when he can, because it’s a direct line of vision for the dead— as far as their dead eyes can even see. His prosthetic hurts and it shouldn’t and even though he avoids whoever he can about it, it still leads to him getting forcibly dragged and dropped at the medic’s door after a dead end supply scavenge. He lies there for a minute and tries to decide if it’s crucial enough to be there but who else is going to make that call for him?

Purpose: starter, closed with @decayedhymn

Being a scavenger has never been so rewarding. Granted, he’s allowed to keep things he finds interesting, and he does have a collection of small things that catch his interest: pins, buttons, things left behind that had no significance. The best is when he finds things that they no longer really have, things that could be grown, but less of a priority. He missed everyday things and sometimes wondered if it was worth it: staying alive without mac and cheese? Was it really worth it to live amongst the dead without cheese?

He doesn’t voice these thoughts though because the most important thing is staying alive and every find is one step closer to luxury when it’s the little things that matter. It’s why he digs through anything he can find these days but some discoveries are better than others. This time, he’d actually hit something good and when he stumbles upon it, he knows exactly that he has to go out of his way to get it to Felicity. He’d already have to run by riverside but now that he’d acquired a bag of half an ounce, even if it was old, he’d definitely plan to make a night of it.

He’s used to stopping by unannounced at random times, particularly timid about wasting others’ time, but he doesn’t think twice about it now. He only knocks out of courtesy before entering the church, and doesn’t say anything as he hands her the bag- maybe she wants it, maybe she doesn’t, but he’ll wait for her reaction before saying anything.

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.”