bigmouth strikes again

                         daphne sat alone in the hotel lobby, with her gun sitting on the coffee table and her brain P O U N D I N G inside her head. with her headache, the lights were bright and blinding, but she did her best to ignore the pain. it was one of those nights, where she’d awaken from an horrifying NIGHTMARE about her parents, usually in the middle of the night or sometimes hours after, then she wouldn’t be able to sleep because of it. ❝ hey, ❞ daphne called out as she noticed someone walk by her. ❝ i know i’m not supposed to be here at a time like this, but i had the n i g h t m a r e s again and i couldn’t… i can’t sleep. ❞ she looked down at the ground as she played with a piece of thread she tugged out from the sofa. ❝ just a random question, but, do you think we’ll ever get out of this MESS ? ❞ she asks. ❝ like, is it possible that maybe someday, someone—one of us, or anyone—is going to find some kind of C U R E ? i know it sound far-fetched, but do you think it could happen ? ❞

     ❝  Holy shit!  ❞  Javier nearly screamed, his walk towards the entrance of the Suites cut short as the sound of a small voice called out to him. Heart pounding in his chest, Javier turned to look at the girl on the sofa, his hand pressed to his collar bone, vaguely resembling an elderly woman in his shock—if he hadn’t been in the throes of surprise, he probably would have found his delicate position funny.  ❝  Shit, don’t do that!  ❞  Even three years into it, Javier still found himself easily scared, JUMPY in a way that really should have been bred out of him by now. Realizing he probably should have censored himself around her ( because anyone under the age of twenty was a CHILD to him, no matter the state of the world ) and yet making no move to apologize for it, he stood gracelessly in place and entangled his fingers together in front of his waist.  ❝  Uhh...  ❞  Javier was unsure of how to respond, an EXISTENTIAL CRISIS brought to him in the middle of night caught him off guard when he was only trying to sneak out undetected.  ❝  Well, uh, Daphne, I guess... well, if there was a cure or somethin’, don’t you think they probably would have found it by now?  ❞  It took a short beat for him to realize that wasn’t exactly reassuring and she was just a KID, it probably wasn’t the appropriate response — well, he wasn’t sure if LYING to her and giving her false hope was all that appropriate either, but still.  ❝  But I mean, like, it could happen. Maybe it could even be you?  ❞  There, that was more hopeful.

                   A CIGARETTE DANGLES BETWEEN TWITCHING FINGERS as worn out black timberlands come to a slow on a bright, familiar intersection. the cigarette brushes against a pair of chapped lips before nazlie leans against a streetlight, smoking to curb the dull pangs of hunger and ( GUILT. ) the spare hand hooks into the pocket of dirty jeans; with a slow exhale of smoke, there is enough room in a tired & empty chest for warm memories. in the corner, nuba stands tall with its noise as vibrant as ever—louder, somehow.  a small CHOKE; home is closer than ever… one, two, three, four, five steps away. home is close, yet it feels so f a r to nazlie. 

                  a slow inhale of smoke into the lungs, a heart dropping into an unsettled stomach. all nazlie can do is stare longingly at nuba—at HOME—with regret. maybe, it isn’t time to come home yet.

    There were certain roads that were off-limits, certain places his worn out converses no longer DARE to tread. Places often became haunted to Javier, ghosts lingering in dark corners and he can never stay too long for fear of their possession. Always running, always hiding, always escaping anything that can keep him tied down—memories, ghosts, buildings. Life is ( supposed ) to be a party and a party is never for the dead, only for the living. And NAZLIE? She is dead, or as good as dead, at the very least. Nazlie, Shantipriya, Katerina, all women and all ghosts. Unhaunted, thoughts of them are locked away and rarely is the dust that collected ever brushed off, only to have them creep into his mind whenever he feels vulnerable and exposed. A boy abandoned, by choice or otherwise, a boy not quick to FORGIVE.

    Certain roads, certain places, certainly they can’t ALWAYS be avoided. He didn’t like the look of a group of survivors in an alley, the suspicious type did always seem to be hanging around bars, and it forces him to take a different route–a different one, but one many times traveled. He smells the smoke before he sees her, a brief thought to bum one off the stranger comes to mind, but all thoughts vanish once he realizes who the stranger is—because yes, she IS a stranger.

    ❝  Nooo!!!!  ❞

Ophelia had come across some WEIRD things in her time durning the end of the world, but seeing the YOUNG man in front of her jumping around screaming at the corpse of a zombie was nearing the top of that list her in thoughts. As she came from her spot in the trees the copper haired girl couldn’t help the look that graced her face ( a mixture of confusion and just HUMOR ) while she crossed over to him, a laugh bubbling up from her throat as she spoke. ❝ okay….can i just ask something? was that like your first time or are you just a very excitable human? ❞ she smiled, headed tilted much like that of a cat who seems to study you before destroying your favorite object in the house. 

     The SCREAM that erupted from Javier’s throat was high enough to scare birds away from their nests in the trees. His previous screaming, the victorious one, was quickly replaced by a TERRIFIED one. The pumping of his arms ceased and morphed into a protective move, forearms held to his chest and leg lifting in some sort of... kick reflex, he wasn’t really sure. His body slowly eased out of its shock, chest heaving in a mix of previous excretion and the SHOCK that now plagued his nerves.  ❝  Holy fuck!  ❞  Javier exclaimed in a hot, shuddering breath. After taking a moment to calm himself and fully understand her question, Javier shrugged one shoulder upwards as his opposite hand rested on his waist.  ❝  Excitable,  ❞  He inhaled quickly through his nose, lips twitching downwards,  ❝  I never really believe those people that say they’ve never done it before, honestly. It’s just been too long, y’know?  ❞

So masculine–No, wrong choice of word. So impressively dominant? It seemed to fit better, more inclusive, Charlant thought to himself as he edited his own thoughts with a persnickety fickleness. He lucky to be a witness to a macho adrenaline fueled war dance. A post war celebratory dance, joyous and energetic and Charlant fed off of it. The lives of others was his life-blood, forever drinking deep from a chalice that made him young and kept him full of worry. What would be an apt response to such a show? Applause naturally. It was as if the blonde had happened upon a show without a charge, one that had moved him to his feet (though he hadn’t been sitting to begin with). Charlant brought his hands together like an adoring fan willing for an encore, though the blonde didn’t want anything of the sort, rather just to show a supportive front of the man’s impressive feat. He was no killer himself, hadn’t killed a thing since the outbreak, couldn’t bring himself to do it. To see the man so dedicated to survival was always something that left Charlant terrifically enamored and heartbroken. Enamored to be around such a capable person and then heartbroken for the slain victim, even if they had technically been slain once before. 

     So wrapped up in his own celebration, Javier completely missed his audience—would he have put on more of a show if he had known, or stopped before his celebration began? ( It was an answer Javier didn’t want to think about. ) His hollering halted, his voice suddenly breaking off and sounding a bit like a seagull crying over the banks of a beach. He would have felt EMBARRASSMENT if he wasn’t so startled by the clapping – wait, no, the embarrassment was there, climbing up his cheeks and turning them a pale RED. A paralysis took over his body, as if someone had pressed PAUSE on the remote of life, and it probably looked hysterical when his body was so previously in motion. Javier’s gaze slid cautiously towards the source of the applause beneath large frames, the hairs on the back of his neck standing at full attention. For a brief moment, he wondered if zombies had suddenly gained the ability to clap – he quickly reminded himself how SILLY the idea was, and how silly he had just been in front of another person, feeling as if his mother caught him dancing in his room again–something he’d deny if asked. Teeth caught his bottom lip, a bashful smile developing around his bitten lip, arms still held overhead in frozen victory.  ❝  Uh... thank you?  ❞