#portectorisms

Murphy hears a creak between the dropship floors and freezes, listening. Even though he’s restrained, he sees the hatch lift from his vantage point. The silence is a sharp contrast to his screams that echoed off the metal walls for hours after waking up on the third floor of the dropship. He’d wailed even though the noose left his throat raw and screaming through the woods after Charlotte tore his voice apart. He’d shouted curses at Bellamy and Clarke and anyone who helped imprison him again after only a week of freedom. He raged until his voice finally cracked and gave, and he only tasted blood.

In the quiet, Murphy hopes to see Mbege or at least a sympathetic face, but that’s not the form that emerges into the dimly lit room. His aching body tenses, every sore muscle protesting each movement after getting beaten nearly to death. He contemplates screaming again, but the tactic never worked in the Skybox, and Murphy doubts it will now. He’s not even sure his voice works. A headache pounds behind his eyes as they follow Bellamy, and Murphy pours all his hate into the gaze. He forces a painful swallow and struggles against the bindings on his wrist. Panic mingles with his anger remembering how Bellamy’s fists made contact with his face.

                     “ guys  like  this  believe  the  world  revolve  around  them . “

@portectorisms​ asked :  001.   our muses enter an abandoned super market / pharmacy / store that seemed quiet and zombie free … and then they heard a moan /  zombie apocalypse meme / accepting

       “ you think we can last five years doing this? ” five years was an awfully long time to spend each day wondering if today would be the day that a mistake was made and the cost would be their lives. but that’s what the broken radio transmissions have said. the death wave will last five years. it seems almost unattainable except if that’s what they have to do, octavia’s willing to do it. no matter what she would fight until her last dying breath. and she’d do it with her big brother at her side. it was them against the rest of the world – just like always. i won’t let anything bad happen to you; i promise. emerald hues glance up around the pharmacy, it’s clearly been hit before but not everything is completely taken. most things these days is scarce and it’s only been a few months into this death wave that hit them so suddenly. 

voices carry through the halls , she can hear the space walkers from fifteen meters away ; they have this tendancy to step heavy when they were distracted ; though some of them had ( and by some she meant four of ... seven ? ) the advantage of being trained by the earthborn, which meant when they wanted to - they were just as agile and nible as her own fighters. not that the young heda would ever admit such a thing.              eyes flicker to the door as a man with dark curly hair steps through , obviously a space walker , though she would be lying if she tried to remember his name , it was not one that had ever mattered to her , and thus not one she remembered. yet his face was engraved in her memory ; though last she’d seen the man , he’d yet been a young one , and was always accompanied by a blonde devil. this time however , he’s flanked by a burnette with a brace on her knee ---- a disability , something that would have been long since elliminated from the population in wonkru. 

her heart jumped; startled and crashing into her ribcage. she didn’t tend to run into anyone this far out of town. at least...not on the less beaten trails that she hiked. “jesus, you scared me.” her hand had flown to her chest, like she expected a hole to be there that her heart had flown out of. allison’s eyes fell to the leaves on the ground as if she expected to see it beating there, but it was more accurately her embarrassment that broke her eye contact, having startled so easily. 

she wasn’t usually this jumpy; she wasn’t...holding herself together right. 

Because her apartment was on the top floor of the building, Shiloh had quick access to the roof, and so it was often that she would find herself spending time on it. It was just as dirty as anyone would expect the roof of a rundown building that was bordering on being condemned would be, but sometimes it was easier for her to find peace up there than it was for her to find it within the haunted walls of her living quarters. It was for that reason that she found herself up there on this night, her legs dangling over the edge as she stared out at the starless night sky.

Although she was still getting to know him and she had yet to spend a lot of time with him, Shiloh could confidently say that she liked Bellamy. He seemed like a genuinely good guy, and people like that were rare these days in her life. Between the walls that she’d been forced to put up around herself and the shitty area of the city that she lived in, it was difficult for her to make any sort of connection, let alone one that wasn’t covered in red flags.

On this night, a particularly bad one, Shiloh had kept to herself, unintentionally going radio silent on every form of contact. Messages went unanswered and calls were ignored, the tiny brunette too lost in her head to think about acknowledging the rest of the world. It was because of that that she’d completely forgotten about the plans that she’d made to meet up with Bellamy and some of their friends at the beach, and why she was so surprised when she heard him behind her, asking her if she was okay.

Glancing over her shoulder, Shiloh’s gaze fell onto him, her eyebrows raised in both surprise and confusion before they furrowed together. She’d thought about asking him how he knew that she was up here, but she guessed that he’d simply figured it out when she hadn’t answered the door to her apartment and he’d seen the block of cement that was keeping the fire escape door propped open. “What are you doing here?” She asked, forgetting to answer his question. It had gone right over her head. At the very least, she didn’t seem unhappy to see him though.

the knights of ren were trained for encounters like this.  where training in the force had lapsed beyond snoke’s chosen protégé, brutality equipped for the slaughter of what force-sensitives remained scattered in hiding across the galaxy had been nearly perfected.  exceptionally few survived.  what sensitivity they did choose to tap into must have been the source of what led her to him.  he was a new encounter, someone strong in the force.  with her curiosity piqued, lightsaber a light weight attached at their hip, the trail is followed without any hesitation.  they’d been too preoccupied with kylo ren’s latest obsession with the scavenger to notice whomever it was.  was it a mistake?  maybe.

“it must be my lucky day.”  echo didn’t immediately teach for their weapon, hood cascading shadows over her face.  “a jedi i wasn’t even looking for.”