ℒ𝒆𝓽𝓽𝒆𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝒇 𝓘𝓶𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽: 𝒟𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹                ( au/v: apocalypse ) twd

               “Did you see that? I think a bug just bit me... Biggest bug I ever saw.                                 ----right here on my arm.

oncegilded

Night fell unnoticed. The church basement was tomb-like in its darkness, even at midday when it was first breached. Its windows were nearly matte with dust-turned-grime, and most were further obscured behind old furniture, Christmas play props, and metal shelves piled high with miscellaneous junk.

It was the exact kind of place that would have given Sawyer nightmares as a kid, even before the world ended. But right now, as far as he was concerned, he was sitting in a treasure vault. 

He couldn’t be sure, but it must have been years -- years -- since he had last seen so much food in one place. Canned, preserved, edible food no less, with hardly anything spoiled. It looked like the efforts of a food drive right before the outbreak, or maybe an emergency stockpile in response to it. At any rate, there was more than two people could carry without the help of a vehicle, and he didn’t think it had been gathered recently. The basement looked as though it hadn’t been touched in years, bathed as it was in dust. He’d had to bust a rusty old lock off the door just to get in, leading him to conclude the place had been sealed off for quite some time; until two strangers decided to check it out, practically on a whim. Strangers to this area, and strangers to each other. 

For the first time in quite a while, Sawyer found his eyes wandering over to the woman sitting across from him, dimly illuminated by candlelight. After a few short hours in each other’s company, following a timely rescue, all he knew about her were superficial details. Name, Tess. Early thirties. Big eyes, gorgeous red hair. A head-turner, even unshowered and road-weary as she was, as anyone was. Chatty too, though so far not about anything in particular. Mostly relating to their unbelievable fortune at finding this place. She was nice. Nicer than Sawyer had come to expect from people. He wondered how long she had been on her own before crossing his path. Wondered how anyone could live out here alone and still have that kind of warmth to them.

She had gone quiet some time ago, lost in her thoughts and leaving him to his own. He doubted he was a lot of fun to talk to these days; it had been so long since he’d had actual company that there were moments where he kept forgetting she was there. Like his neurons had closed those pathways and sealed them off, and now there was an intruder creeping through them partially unnoticed. 

It...was starting to bring things up. Even just the presence of another person, a woman, young and pretty and alive...it reminded him of too many things he was trying to forget, but couldn’t, and didn’t really want to at the end of the day. 

But none of that was Tess’s fault. And thinking about his terse, laconic behaviour over the last few hours, he felt a belated twinge of guilt that made him shift uncomfortably in his chair. Only that afternoon he had saved her from being torn apart by walkers, and now he could scarcely bring himself to look at her, much less speak. Questions he could ask her fluttered through his mind, but he couldn’t be sure any of them were safe territory. Where are you from? Where were you when all this started? Have you lost anyone? Who? Better, he figured, to stick to what lay ahead of them. 

“So,” he grunted, clearing the cobwebs from his throat. “What happens now? You got somewhere to be? ‘Cause...I’m thinking I’m gonna stay here awhile. Maybe fortify the place a little, check out the surrounding area.”

Being essentially snowed in made for difficult foraging, moreso in the a dilapidated, picked through town. Evident in the contents in the orange crate ( or lack thereof ) he had taken with him that morning. Kazu didn’t require near as much sleep, and by how deeply she had slept; she hadn’t gotten enough.  He suspected as much; the consumption of whiskey in the form of a half empty bottle of Tennessee Honey that was perched atop another filing cabinet drawer that he had been sitting on the night prior, was its own tip-off.                  Mindful of his snow dusted boots, Kazu knelt down and called her softly awake. Her response would have startled him, were it not for the unexpected thick pang of fear that lanced through her scent. She was frightened. Of him? Nostrils flared and his brows fell sharply in displeasure. Already shaking his head as she began to stammer quietly, as if afraid of being overheard. Good instincts. Kazu held up a hand to sooth her clearly frayed nerves. “There’s no threat, if that’s what you’re afraid of?” She must have been thinking of the undead---but he wouldn’t fault her. In fact he would find her wise to fear him. So why did it sound like a question?                                                  It is bad luck to wake a sleeping woman...

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse

With the truck packed tight with all the supplies they could carry out of the church, there wasn’t a whole lot of space for the driver and passenger. For his part, Sawyer didn’t mind the proximity, and Tess didn’t seem to object to sitting hip-to-hip with him either. Considering they had enough food to last them for weeks -- months, maybe, if they were careful -- limited cab space seemed a reasonable price to pay. He was just glad for her sake he’d had a bath that morning.

It took him a while to realize she wasn’t being all that chatty. By now he’d come to expect, even welcome it from her, and glanced over with questioning eyes to see what he would find in her expression, her body language. 

His head turned just as hers gently dropped to rest on his shoulder. He stiffened a little in surprise, then froze as the implications of what this smallest of gestures meant began to sink in. She was tired, yes, but more than that...she felt safe with him. On some level, she trusted him. Not just because he had saved her life, either. He hadn’t gone out of his way to do that, and anyone passing by could have done the same for any number of reasons; not all of them noble. It was a different kind of trust he sensed, the kind rooted in burgeoning affection and regard. The thought was...humbling. Moving, even.

imaginary - evanescenceI linger in the doorwayOf alarm clock screaming monsters calling my name              Let me stay

He lingered in the doorway; arms crossed loosely over his broad chest as he watched over her sleeping form. The fire had dimmed, though their space was warm for it being early winter.He had taken to dismantling the bar stools he could spare from their better than nothing defenses. He was entirely dissatisfied. But short of his own, hand-picked defenses; everything was dissatisfying. 

He had salvaged some pool sticks and wooden picture frames for fuel.Beside him, as had been his project for the night, was the product of his findings; a delicate carving he had finished hours ago. So delicate that its petals were near paper-think with practiced accuracy. He thought it a good idea; as she seemed to enjoy feeding the fire.                     A nervous habit, maybe.All of it would be burned anyway, and the shavings could still be used. Ever practical and efficient.             --the ghost of a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

The vixen shrugged, her expression nonchalant as possible with lax features and a lazy push forward from the tree. As if to say ‘nothing’s wrong with it’. Dark eyes tracked the movement of the point of that spear, from the display to the apple. Lips curling into a momentary grin that was chased away with an indrawn breath of concentration and observation Azuka stepped towards the ensnared creature as well.                     Brows forking, Azuka hooked her thumbs into her back pockets and came up beside Tess. Smoky blue eyes rolled aimlessly, jaws clacking teeth together that were exposed by weather and quite possibly its human death. “So, say you have no way to avoid a fight.” Unperturbed by the clacking and soft moans of the trapped zombie; Azuka turned to give Tess a pointed stare, saying without actually saying ‘the apple doesn’t count’.                      As well meaning as a mutated creature could be---social nuances hadn’t quite clicked all the way, even before the world had gone to the proverbial dogs. She wasn’t being cruel or condescending; in fact she was being careful. Thorough, even. The vixen held no illusion in regards to companionship that outlived survival, death, or departure. But that didn’t mean she was ‘incapable’ of forming lasting bonds. She liked the woman; and while she might not be around later, the vixen didn’t want Tess getting backed into a corner she couldn’t at least properly fight her way out of if need be. 

Yanking on a limb to the right of the zombie as Tess attempted to disembowel the walking carcass, Azuka made a few ‘adjustments’ to the sizeable branch that was quite a bit smaller than the spear after being trimmed down.

For every 📎 I get in my ask box, I'll post a thread that I want to do.Not necessarily with the person who sends. Just a thread I want to do in general some day.

ℒ𝒆𝓽𝓽𝒆𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝒇 𝓘𝓶𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽: 𝒟𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹

📎 --- I honestly don’t get enough shippy things. ( who does though, really? lol ) but it’s so difficult to do shippy things with Zu. she’s such an old stick in the mud with a chip on her shoulder and a devil on her heels; and with the whole “can’t die thing” it really puts a damper on the romance and love life. well -- with humans anyway. but I want a shippy thread. like. all the fluff. YES I AM WEAK. don’ judge meh.

📎 --- ok but enemies. a solid enemy that’s not afraid to toss some vulgar, hair raising murderous things at us. like I NEED a thread like that. all the bee-line right for the kill shot until one of us dies. a hunter. I need a thread with a hunter. zu needs to be hunted.

📎 --- Zu is literally made of things Fae - connected right to the ley-lines of Faerie; just like she is to Gaea ( earth ). I want a thread where that’s played out. she’s all about keeping her secrets; trying to be human, going so far as to cast a glamour to look like one. I want a thread where she can’t hide anymore, that unless she uses her power and becomes a monster; the King get his weapon and his throne.