#levelhcaded

although they'd only gotten seperated for about an hour, nick was sure as hell glad the others hadn't simply moved on and left him. the conman hated to admit it, but he doubted he would be able to survive very long by himself.

❝ you're not gonna get rid of me that easily. ❞ the gambler pipes up, sauntering over to where he spotted the rest of his teammates with an easy stride and a slight smirk quirking the corners of his lips, assult rifle resting lazily against his shoulder.

rochelle is the first to notice him, and it takes a minute for nick to register what's happening when she does. mostly because it's not something he expects to happen... even though his time with the other survivors had slowly worn down nick's defenses and he'd begun to open up slightly... well, the conman still wouldn't consider them friends. but the arms snaking around his torso hold him tightly and it's warm, comforting, reassuring in a way nick hadn't felt in a long time. there's a moment's hesitation before the conman returns the hug, draping an arm over her shoulder's as he chuckles slightly, raising a brow as he glances down at her.

❝... the hell did I do to derve this, doll? ❞ he teases, chuckling slightly. ❝ anyone'd think you'd like having me around. ❞

random asks ~ always accepting

OUT OF EVERYTHING THAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW , claire is begging the weather gods to not let it rain. but there is a loose strand of hair falling in and out of her eyes simply because the wind is vicious -- A STORM IS BREWING . nothing like a horrendous downpour to really tie together the fact they are now surviving another outbreak. AGAIN .

claire's hand reaches up to cradle rochelle's jawline , mostly just to take a look to see if everything is good -- she just pauses. CLAIRE'S HEAD TURNS TO SWIVEL TOWARDS THE DOOR . then slowly turns back to the one window in the room. they're still relatively secure for now. that window has bars , that door is heavy metal. IT'S SORT OF A SAFE ROOM . until they leave.

❝ oh boo-hoo, princess. mine fucking hurt too. ❞ the conman snapped irritably. sharp blue eyes fixed her with a hard stare before flickering downard. nick scowled at his feet, gaze fixed on his, once immaculate, dress shoes... they were decidedly worse for wear now, the battered leather scuffed and stained with god knows what, the stitching beginning to fray and fail from the near constant misuse— they weren't made for outrunning hoards of the undead, traipsing through god-damn mud and rain, and swamp water, and fucking sewage..!!

and nick was feeling it, the shoes pinching at his toes with every step, rubbing blisters into his heels, and the lack of proper arch support reflected in the dull pain crawling its way up his legs. the whole thing only served to worsen his already foul mood.

❝ ...wore the wrong fucking shoes for a god-damn zombie apocalypse... ❞ he grumbles, mostly to himself, teeth gritting against the anger bubbling away.

random asks ~ always accepting

@levelhcaded : '' i don't know , it sounds awfully dangerous . . . ''

"it's the only way we're gonna be able to get inside."

a crowd of infected, while mostly aimless were blocking the entrance to a safehouse. not too far was a car that had been abandoned, with what they were able to see with the scope of a rifle, still had the keys in the ignition.

what was the plan? infected are attracted to certain noises- car alarms being one of them, for one reason or another. the idea was that if ally snuck around the crowd & drove the car, it would cause enough racket to get rid of the horde blocking the path. was this risky? absolutely, but unless anyone else had any better ideas, ally was more than willing to be the bait.

they know rochelle is worried about their safety, she was the big sister of the group, but they hated being coddled. they're not a child, & they know what they're doing.