YOU ARE A MEMORY.

"look  at  her,"  saralynn  calls  with  that  usual  beaming  smile  and  heavy  southern  accent  that  sounds  just  like  her  mother.  "being  so  safe  and  so  cute  at  the  same  time!"  she  admires  chakki's  skirt,  her  deep  brown  eyes  glimmering  with  an  admiration.  saralynn  has  always  had  a  love  for  fashion—  well,  as  much  as  she  could  be  in  these  circumstances.  she  studies  the  decades-old  magazines  during  her  break  time,  taking  in  the  fashion  of  a  time  she  can  barely  remember.  plus,  it  wasn't  like  she  was  exposed  to  the  utmost  of  fashion  pre-apocalypse.  growing  up  in  a  small  christian  town  in  louisiana  left  much  to  be  desired  in  the  fashion  department  unless  it  was  sunday.

everyone  dressed  up  on  sunday.

"i  couldn't  go  in  alone.  i'd  cause  too  much  of  scene  by  myself  with  this  thing  on.  i  never  wear  dresses,  you  know?  feels  weird  to  have  my  legs  covered  but...not  covered,"  saralynn  says  with  a  shrug,  adjusting  her  cutoff  jean  jacket  that  stops  at  her  waist.  it's  a  bit  light  for  the  weather,  but  she's  been  through  worse.  the  light  pink  floral  dress  reaches  her  ankles,  flowing  freely  when  the  wind  catches  it.  it  reminds  her  of  a  barbie  doll.  her  brows  raise  at  chakki's  deep  sigh,  tilting  her  head  in  curiousity  until  she  actually  hears  the  words  that  leave  the  other's  mouth,  clicking  her  tongue  playfully  and  turning  away  from  her.

"and  who's  gonna  listen  to  me  if  a  fight  breaks  out?  chakki,  they  barely  listen  to  me  when  i  tell  them  to  shush  in  a  library.  it's  my  kind  face  or  whatever  my  mama  used  to  say,"  saralynn  laughs  with  a  shake  of  her  head,  interlinking  her  arm  with  chakki's  to  walk  them  further  into  the  gathering,  tilting  her  head  back  to  look  at  the  strung  up  string  lights,  a  smile  taking  over  her  face.  "but,  because  i  want  you  to  be  a  girl  who  gets  to  have  fun...if  someone  acts  up,  i'll  figure  out  a  way  to  break  it  up  even  if  that  means  i  get  a  black  eye,"  she  assures,  patting  her  friend's  arm  before  extending  her  neck  to  examine  the  food  table,  curling  her  lips  in  with  a  hum.

"i  see  wine..."  saralynn  looks  over  at  chakki  with  a  raise  of  her  brows  and  inhale  through  her  teeth.  "been  a  good  while  since  i  had  anything  to  drink...you  thinking  what  i'm  thinking?"

✮⋆˙ chakki wasn't just a keeper of records for the town, she has more to her than just that role, so in the topic of keeping, she prides in keeping and learning things before the world went to shit. she's a frequent visiter at the library and isn't ashamed to admit that out loud. especially when she had a familiar face and great friend in the clerk who works there. chakki playfully spins and shows out in her outfit when sarahlynn boasts her head up, ❝ i knowww, i knew this would make commotion, it's only right. ❞

when sarahlynn interlinks her arm with chakki's, any mental stress or tense physicality thankfully goes away. chakki begins to skip lightly while sarahlynn walks them further into the gathering. ❝ first of all, no one dares to keep up the fucking noise when i'm there, so this must be when i'm not, so let me know exactly who these degenerates are and we'll resolve that. there's no way you're getting a black eye when i feel like we're the most coolest girls in new eden, we don't bother anyone, do we? ❞

He shifts his wheels to get closer to the other so that he can’t walk away but also to hear him better, his long winded threats only intriguing him more. He knows there’s weight behind the ask and maybe tension from the fact he doesn’t really know, or understand, this stranger and he has no indication that they’d get along, but he’s chosen to be a pest for the rest of the night, so he sees it through.

⋆🐾⋆ could it actually be? could this actually be someone in new eden genuinely wanting to stick around oakes despite the demeanor he gives off? oakes chuckles lightly in response to cato's impression on him, ❝ who, me? i talk funny? now how do i talk funny? ❞ oakes decides to brush that question away and speak up again only this time shifting the focal point about cato.

georgia slowed as she reached city hall, more out of habit than intention. her eyes moved over the lights strung between buildings, the guards at the entrances, the way the music carried into the street. nights like this were meant to feel easy. she still found herself bracing.

the bike caught her attention, the soft clink of rings against a helmet making her glance over. the woman turned and smiled at her like they’d arrived together, and georgia paused, surprised for half a second before returning it. “no, just got here,” she said, easy enough. “but i wouldn’t mind the company.”

she stepped closer, resting her weight back on her heels as the other spoke, the comment about incident reports earning a small huff of a laugh. “i can imagine,” georgia replied. “i’m hoping tonight stays quiet too. i work medical over in riverside, so i’m rooting for everyone to behave.” her gaze drifted briefly toward the doors, to the mix of territories gathering under the lights.

✮⋆˙ chakki was that one person who knew everyone and their mothers, she had to. a huge vital part of her role of her being a records keeper, demanded it. so in hindsight, she didn't even need georgia to give her a rundown of her role in new eden but still, chakki smiles before she responds, ❝ what if i said i knew who and what you did before you said it? ❞

sunbleach's  set  had  just  ended.  a  folk  band  blue  couldn’t  remember  the  name  of  had  been  playing  after  them.  if  blue  was  being  brutally  honest,  he  didn’t  give  a  shit  about  this  gathering.  he  only  had  interest  in  playing  the  set  he  was  meant  to  do,  pocketing  the  tips,  and  going  to  the  red  light.

not  before  a  cigarette,  though.

with  his  beaten-up  guitar  case  next  to  his  feet,  blue  leaned  against  the  city  hall's  brick  wall,  shaking  his  lighter  to  get  the  last  of  his  lighter  fluid  to  work.  he  looked  up  at  the  string  lights  hung  across  the  buildings.  it  was  cute,  blue  thought  as  his  thumb  blindly  worked  at  the  flint  wheel,  hearing  three  empty  clicks  before  finally  a  flame  lit.  he  sighed  in  relief,  working  quickly  to  light  the  hand-rolled  cigarette  and  placing  it  between  his  lips.

“i'll  let  you  bum  one  if  you  buy  me  a  drink  at  redlight  later,”  blue  said  when  he  felt  a  presence  approach  him,  though  he  kept  his  gaze  forward,  inhaling  the  smoke  through  his  teeth  then  blowing.  the  tobacco  smell  hit  him  almost  instantly,  making  his  face  pinch  slightly.  it  was  such  a  nasty  habit,  he  thought.  “or  are  you  here  to  tell  me  what  an  amazing  job  sunblech  did  tonight.  i  know.  we're  amazing."  his  dry  tone  left  it  up  in  the  air  whether  he  was  joking  or  not.

that  seemed  to  be  a  recurring  theme  with  blue.

🗝 ༝ no matter what, she just couldn't go a day without indulging in a physical fight, even if today was supposed to be a milestone celebration. it's like she gets off of on it. and that's because she does. when she was inside the old city hall building where the celebration mainly took place, she got into it with another territory, typical really. it seems to jia that as the cut's leader, her leading by example-- is not backing down from fight whether she's the one receiving it or creating, and this case, she'd be the one who started it and finished it just from a mere interaction without someone saying excuse me in passing, but it was a pretty big deal to her, she took her respect very serious. jia approached blue's way with a busted lip and a bruise on her forehead while he spoke. when she reaches near him, she casts him a blank up and down glance with no words yet formed.

jia takes a seat on the pavement, ❝ let... ❞ she nods and lightly scoffs to herself, it was comical to her that he'd think he would let her do anything when she was who she was.

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.

⋆🐾⋆ oakes could be the odd guy to exaggerate in showing off his dance moves in this occasion if he wanted to, but today he felt like babysitting his drinks and watching everyone else try to outshine him. this would be his courtesy move in response to the people in new eden saying he does too much, he'd be on his best behavior, only for today. that's all they would get it. but to oakes surprise, someone had nudged him to dance. he knew that cato was obviously directing this request to him, and yet the asshole in him glances behind before he glances back at cato.

purpose: opening event

Claire keeps one hand loose but ready at her side as she walks, habit ingrained deeper than muscle memory after fifteen years of survival. New Eden hums with laughter and music tonight, lights strung from the bones of the old city hall casting warm gold light over cracked stone and reclaimed ivy. She tells herself she’s off duty, just a mother tonight, but her eyes still track shadows, exits, unfamiliar faces. The Cut depends on her vigilance, and even celebration feels like borrowed time. Still, the sound of April Beth’s soft gasp breaks through the constant hum of caution, and for the first time in hours, Claire exhales.

April’s tiny fingers curl tighter around hers as she tilts her head back, eyes wide and shining at the lights swaying overhead. “Mama,” she whispers, like the word itself might scare the glow away. Claire kneels so they’re eye to eye, brushing a curl from her daughter’s forehead, letting herself linger in the moment. This—this—is why New Eden matters. Not the walls or the weapons or the years survived, but this wonder, this innocence untouched by rot and ruin. As April laughs and reaches toward the light, Claire lets her guard lower just enough to believe, if only for tonight, that they’ve truly built something worth protecting.

⋆🐾⋆ oakes was sat outside on the stone colored steps of the old city hall's building when he scanned the faces of each guest that entered the building. with none of those people being the people he was originally waiting on, he still greeted them with waves and that troublemaking smile of his. with the reputation that oakes held since the moment he stepped foot in new eden and even way before he got here, he's a man with-- haters, he likes to say. he's not everyone's cup of tea, which is valid, it's not something he loses sleep over. soon though, oakes body perks up when he notices two familiar figures approaching, claire and her mini-me.

❝ you guys just decided to say screw oakes and show up late like he hasn't been waiting like the good man he is huh? ❞ oakes gestures at the watch sitting on his wrist, ❝ do you ladies know what time it is? ❞ oakes then stands up with a smile and instantly picks up claire's mini-me, april and spins her around while he has her in a warm embrace, ❝ why if it isn't april-may? ❞ oakes pecks april on the cheek, he'd like to think the nickname may being adding to april's name was pretty witty yet clever of him.

oakes glances at claire, ❝solider, ❞ he mockingly salutes her. despite his unserious mannerisms, on a deep level, there was no doubt that oakes didn't respect claire, her livelihood and motherhood.

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.”

🗝 ༝ it felt like being in a whole another skin, this entire event that is. jia kim was quite literally always used to her usual skin being visibly shown as roughed up with battle scars. not how she appeared to this event, she used makeup powder to subtly hide her scars, she thought why not show up presentable? she didn't indulge in dancing to the music or conversing with others to the point of laughing. but she'd soon indulge in a interaction when a voice spoke up at her. jia watches gus in his seat for a moment before she decides to give in and take the offering seat he had offered her.

When Chakki sighs and leans against her bike, Scarlett’s expression softens, amusement mixing with understanding. “Hey,” she says gently, nudging her shoulder with her own, “you live it up. I’ll do my part.... keep people patched, tempers cooled, and anyone too drunk from starting something stupid.” She raises a brow, teasing. “Besides, if anything does go sideways, at least we’ll be stuck dealing with it together. Records keeper and medic, sounds like a nightmare duo for chaos.” Scarlett gestures toward the entrance, lights spilling out like hope itself. “Come on. Let’s give New Eden one night where the only thing we’re fighting is the urge to believe this peace can last.”

✮⋆˙ chakki nods in agreement to scarlett's words on the northside's big impact on new eden, ❝ that we do ❞ she feigns nonchalantness with a shrug of her shoulders. she knew it had been fifteen years already but to keep hearing it said out loud by others made it the more crazy. it's been fifteen years since she's last seen her parents and she's sure it's been that way for many others in new eden. some may even have lost a piece of themselves rather than a physical person, place, or object since the many years that has passed.

it was unfortunate, but for chakki she was thankful for people like scarlett who stayed around. chakki returns the playful nudge back at scarlett, ❝ hey, this isn't just about me living it up, you're gonna live it up with me too in there, i won't accept it any other way, because we do in fact make a little un-fuckable dynamic duo here. ❞

✮⋆˙ it was a rare occurrence for chakki to ever feel scatterbrained when interacting with others, yet somehow here she stood spacing out giving hassun her full undivided attention while he spoke to her, her eyes studied his features subtly. she felt like every time he spoke, it'd put any nonsense she was worrying about prior-- to shame. she snaps out of her thoughts, ❝ you're fucking right. i should be ready to head my ass through those doors huh? ❞ she gestures her head towards the old city hall's door while some people had just also started making their way in.

her lips then spread up catching his reassurance in helping her if things ever went south. ❝ and I too promise to take your promise serious and calm my ass down ❞ she extends her out her pinky finger to him.