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Excellent! We already have three other people involved who are hiding away somewhere, so we'll wait until we get at least two more people. Then we'll be good to go.
The New OOC
Welcome to Apocalyptica, the long-running, gritty survival/horror/zombie RP. This RP takes place five years after a major apocalyptic event in which most of the world was ravaged by a virus that turns those infected into the undead. This RP will follow the day-to-day lives of random survivors scattered across North America striving to get by in a corrupt, damaged world still trying to rebuild itself.
By this point it’s difficult to remember which run of Apocalyptica this is (I believe this is its sixth or seventh), but each time we’ve looked for the same type of people: talented, strong writers who not only want to revel in the gory goodness of a zombie RP, but who are world-builders, creators and those who enjoy a good sandbox RP. There’s no definitive plot (not yet). Either as a group, a bunch of groups, or all individually, we’ll build it as we go. When we’re all working together to flesh-out this world, it becomes a lot of fun, and that’s what we’re aiming for.
On that same note, we expect realism. Your characters will get banged up, break bones, lose limbs, lose friends, and mostly lose their mind. They should never escape each fight unscathed. It’s not as much fun that way if you don’t make your characters struggle every now and then. Who doesn’t like playing psychopath and making the innocent suffer repeatedly?
In terms of posts: last run we used Google Docs to construct group posts together, and we’ll plan to use it again. If you’re unfamiliar with it, it’s basically an online word document we can all access so we can all write and edit together in one place. It’s a little easier than sending PM’s back and forth. You’ll get the hang of it; it’s real handy.
If, after all that reading, you’re still interested: the old OOC. Run over to that there link and have a looksee at what the world is all about. Most of the Havens and some of the organizations will survive, but for the most part, the rest is up to us.
Lastly: if you want to start on a CS right away and don’t feel like waiting for the OOC to be up, write away, youngling! We don’t go by the traditional CS template; rather, we prefer a written description of your character in first-person as if they’re writing about who they are. Include things like: name, age, their strengths and weaknesses, a photo/written description, and their life before and after the apocalypse. Anything else you may want to add, feel free to. If you need examples, you can find a list of old CS’s in the old OOC link provided.
Someone said we should write these things down – said the world needs to know who we are after all we’ve done. After all we’ve been through and all we’ve sacrificed. I guess the heroes in the history books of our youth don’t really matter as much anymore. Not after all of this. We forget too easily the faces we didn’t look at long enough and the stories that mattered only at the time. The people, the places, the events that helped shape what became of us… they need to be known.
So, welcome to Hell. There are no red men with horns, wings and pitchforks dancing amidst flames here. There’s not many men left at all, I imagine. But, there’s us. And we’re still here.
- The Author
Welcome to Apocalyptica, the long-running, gritty survival/horror/zombie RP. This RP takes place five years after a major apocalyptic event in which most of the world was ravaged by a virus that turns those infected into the undead. This RP will follow the day-to-day lives of random survivors scattered across North America striving to get by in a corrupt, damaged world still trying to rebuild itself.
By this point it’s difficult to remember which run of Apocalyptica this is (I believe this is its sixth or seventh), but each time we’ve looked for the same type of people: talented, strong writers who not only want to revel in the gory goodness of a zombie RP, but who are world-builders, creators and those who enjoy a good sandbox RP. There’s no definitive plot (not yet). Either as a group, a bunch of groups, or all individually, we’ll build it as we go. When we’re all working together to flesh-out this world, it becomes a lot of fun, and that’s what we’re aiming for.
On that same note, we expect realism. Your characters will get banged up, break bones, lose limbs, lose friends, and mostly lose their mind. They should never escape each fight unscathed. It’s not as much fun that way if you don’t make your characters struggle every now and then. Who doesn’t like playing psychopath and making the innocent suffer repeatedly?
In terms of posts: last run we used Google Docs to construct group posts together, and we’ll plan to use it again. If you’re unfamiliar with it, it’s basically an online word document we can all access so we can all write and edit together in one place. It’s a little easier than sending PM’s back and forth. You’ll get the hang of it; it’s real handy.
If, after all that reading, you’re still interested: the old OOC. Run over to that there link and have a looksee at what the world is all about. Most of the Havens and some of the organizations will survive, but for the most part, the rest is up to us.
Lastly: if you want to start on a CS right away and don’t feel like waiting for the OOC to be up, write away, youngling! We don’t go by the traditional CS template; rather, we prefer a written description of your character in first-person as if they’re writing about who they are. Include things like: name, age, their strengths and weaknesses, a photo/written description, and their life before and after the apocalypse. Anything else you may want to add, feel free to. If you need examples, you can find a list of old CS’s in the old OOC link provided.
That just leaves Prom and Firecracker unaccounted for, although I've come to accept Firecracker as our friendly ghost who lives in the attic and only comes out when he has a good punchline.
If neither of you post here soon, I will send you a PM. And I cannot promise that there won't be a few unkind words in there.
If neither of you post here soon, I will send you a PM. And I cannot promise that there won't be a few unkind words in there.
I like to believe it's quiet here because I've been busy and you're all directionless without me. So, now that I'm back, you can all come back.
ShonHarris said
Heard, Fallen. How is everyone doing? I don't see our OOC super lively, but our IC always seems strong. I swear you all scare me sometimes.Oh, and I'll just leave this here... List goes on, but are we one of the few RPs there not based off a show/game?
I think that's nice that they had that little moment of recognition for all of the surviving RP's. I always think back on how long this has been running for and am amazed it's still going. Not just this latest run but the RP's history overall as well. It's been, what, five-six years now?
Sorry about my inactivity. I've been a little busy the past while and I always kept thinking, "I should get back to Apocalyptica." Of course I get those thoughts while working or nowhere near a computer. Then when I'm at my computer I totally forget and have Youtube binges of hit songs from the early '00s.
Fallenreaper said
I have a idea but I have to ensure a fact first, namely if the 1007th occupied Chico yet or heading there for sure. I think it was mentioned before but I'm not sure.
Yeah, the 1007th shouldn't have arrived just yet. If that foils your idea, I've got one of my own that I could recycle that still works just as well.
Zombiedude101 said
Alright, so I know this has been brought up before but I'm still kinda confused about Chico; how much of it is actually bordered off from the outside and converted into a safezone?
When I have time I can make a rough map of the area, I suppose. To be quite honest, I'm not so sure myself. The actual walls enclosing the Havens are never really specified, and perhaps that's best for creative freedom. But we can still figure this out if you'd like.
Alright, Fallen. The post is up. I just changed one little line where Abbie asked Sam and Trake where they'd been. That cliffhanger was really unexpected and I don't know what we'll do next, so I'm excited to start.
Sometimes when the sun had set and the only illumination of the streets was from the looming face of the moon and the warm orange sway of patrolling lanterns seemingly bodiless drifting down every road, Lacy would draw her knees up to her chest and sit on the top of the desk pushed firmly against the window of her bedroom. She would watch the millions of little stars, some mobile with their fervent blinking, and she would wonder if another Earth existed free of the tribulations her Earth still tried to survive. Sometimes she would think about aliens, one of the many topics Danielle would never let go, but those were on the nights when Danielle murmured and stirred in her sleep and the creaking of an old bed as she tossed and turned marred her peaceful dreaming voice.
Those times Lacy would glance over at Danielle, her round doll-like face buried under ragged strands of golden hair, and Lacy might think about the wide array of moments constructing Danielle’s life. From the Old World days when Danielle was an obnoxious chatterbox incapable of listening to anyone up until the previous week when she slept in her own bed for the last time, Lacy would think of her. These days Lacy mostly thought of the latter; her mind gave her little choice.
The crease in Danielle’s bed sheets remained untouched like the afterglow of a ghost, a haunting reminder. It had been almost a week since the soldiers took Danielle and arrested Winifred. Having been arrested for harboring an Infected and disobeying the law Winifred had been taken in. Due to the gunshot wound in her leg she remained in the hospital, and there was no word on when she would be released. Darius and Aurora had been able to visit her a few times while working at the hospital and it was from Winifred that they heard the story of what happened to Danielle, and it was from there that word of a possible Carrier had somehow gotten out to the public. The flurry of rumors spread at an intense rate, though most rumors seemed to have left out the detail of the “potential vaccine supplier” being a little girl. It made Lacy sick to think of all the men and women willing to sacrifice her sister for a chance at warding off the Infection. It only added to the overwhelming stress that words couldn’t seem to describe.
Winifred told them nothing else significant of what happened. She did not know when she would be released and it made the entire situation a lot more unbearable with not having Winifred around for comfort.
The bob of a faraway glow that leaked out onto the streets flickered as it passed between the low buildings. It brought Lacy back to the present, and the restlessness and sorrow returned. There was hardly a time when she wasn’t worrying over Danielle. The others were keen on constantly assuring Lacy that Danielle would be fine even when it was uncalled for in the conversation. She understood the hopefulness in the group stating the scientists were “professionally” studying Danielle’s immune system and taking only a healthy number of blood samples, but Lacy knew their optimism wavered behind closed doors.
Perhaps if she were to lapse into believing Chico when it said Danielle would be okay and she would be back home soon, Lacy would be able to shake the roaring uneasiness. For the time being until she stumbled into that disillusionment she would stick to pacing the room and mourning a loss that had yet to fully happen.
In a small fit of rage and angst Lacy extended her foot and kicked the wooden chair over. The thud it made as it hit the ground wasn’t nearly as satisfying as Lacy had hoped for.
On top of everything it frustrated Lacy that in the midst of everything she was still treated like a child in desperate need of condolences. The last time Chuck had offhandedly remarked that Danielle “probably has the best room service,” Lacy had to swallow an alien desire to scream a barrage of profanities at him. While the entire scenario had left everyone on edge and many arguments erupted since that specific day, Lacy felt the most emotionally drained from it. The only difference between herself and the others was her lack of a voice, a two-part contribution from being looked over and a lack of confidence she came to see as blinding in every pore on her skin. A calm fraction of her wanted to fall into an ignorant submission and thoughtlessly lean on the others to carry her until Danielle and Winifred came back. But then Danielle’s face would nag at her to rescue her, and for once in her life, Lacy wanted to run headfirst into a battle she doubted she could win if only to save her sister.
But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Not alone, not when she didn’t know where to start or how to even clear her mind just long enough to formulate some coherent thought.
“Lacy?” Abbie abruptly whispered from behind the door, followed by the light tapping of knuckles rapping on the door. “Is everything alright, kiddo?”
Lacy didn’t answer much to Abbie’s disappointment. A little concern by the cold shoulder, her head pressed against the door as she heard the younger girl shuffle around then suddenly go silent again. It had been like this since the incident with Winifred and Danielle, the youth more withdrawn and depressed than before. For Abbie, it seemed a wall had been erected between them.
Everyone had been stunned upon learning what happened, even worse to learn the results. Needless to say they all couldn’t believe it or the fact they aimed to use a little girl to end the infection threat. Something that inwardly disgusted Abigail to think what Danielle might be going through right now and helplessness washed over her, unable to do anything about it. She didn’t even know to start for Danielle but Lacy was another story.
Inside, she knew the sister was suffering terribly and aimed to do what she could to stop it.
Taking a deep breath, Abbie’s hand turned the door knob until it clicked open and pushed. The hinges creaked when it opened to reveal the young girl just staring at the window. Quietly Abbie made her way inside, her eyes noted the chair sprawled out and only paused to pick it up right. Lacy appeared more occupied with staring out the window and didn’t react to her entering the room, barely noted her existence it seemed. Abbie was finding it hard to remain silent while she took a seat on the chair. It was very clear the chair wasn’t made for an adult, her rear sat far too low and her legs crunched upright in an uncomfortable position, her face looked at the girl still staring outside the window.
“I miss her too…”Abbie stated simply, already knowing what was on Lacy’s mind.
Against the starry backdrop of a nighttime sky, Lacy’s shadowy silhouette looked locked in a picture-perfect stillness. She didn’t stir or flinch when Abbie spoke to her; Abbie didn’t know if Lacy had fully heard what she said or if the younger girl let each word drift into the background, unnoticed and uncared for.
It was bothersome, Lacy’s seclusion and silence. Abbie had spent the past few days listening to the others endlessly discuss the situation with no new information to carry it in different directions. The overwhelming stress of worrying about Danielle was eating away at everyone. The helplessness they all shared was a constant feeling. There was never a direct explanation from the government on what occurred; the group had to find out the hard way what had happened, and if it was ever known that Aurora made contact with Winifred and recovered the true side of the story, the entire group would face exile – or something much worse.
The “story” they were spoon-fed by a horse-faced woman in a crisp pantsuit before Aurora found out the real half of it was that Danielle had infected numerous – coincidentally unnamed – victims and Winifred attacked the guards as they tried to remove the long-gone young girl. It was brief and vague, and it sparked explosive reactions from everyone. Sam and Trake were on the verge of breaking into the hospital to find both Danielle and Winifred, but it became clear from the get-go that the group was ranked high on the government’s VIP list. They were all quite aware that soldiers patrolled the street by their house closely, ensuring they kept a close eye on the group.
But once they knew the truth and heard rumors that filtered out slowly from inside the sector where Danielle was held, the group pieced it together and understood. Danielle was somehow Immune and being held captive as a science project. What the group remained unsure on was whether Danielle was still breathing or not, and if she was, how long she still had. It was unspoken amongst the group but like a hive mind they all knew it: Danielle would not be let go freely. No one dared to say a word of that highly probable theory in front of Lacy, and watching Lacy losing herself in introspective thoughts, Abbie wished she never would have to.
After Lacy’s lack of awareness began to grow stale and she had yet to show any sign of a willingness to talk, Abbie stood and decided to leave, decided to shelf talking with Lacy for another time when she was better suited for it.
She took a step closer to the door and paused when there was a crunch under her foot. A lone sheet of paper sat on the floor, words scribbled quickly on it and looking like a diary entry. Just as Abbie bent down to pick it up out of sheer curiosity, Lacy finally spoke and it startled Abbie.
“Can we just go get her? Like, right now - let’s just… go get her.” Lacy suggested. She didn’t sound like she would dare to believe her own idea herself; she didn’t sound like she was even awake as she said it. There was no personality left in her voice. Only some sort of sorrowful sound.
Abbie paused, unsure of what she could possibly say in return. It was something everyone else wanted to do as well; they wanted to tear apart the Haven until they had both Winifred and Danielle safely with them. But they couldn’t; they would be no use to anyone after they had been shot for stepping out of line, and the seriousness of it gave them very little wiggle room to make any slip-ups.
“I wish it was that easy. Sadly, the world can’t work like that and hating it won’t change a thing.” Abbie began in her weak effort to break the settled silence. Once more her fingers gingerly plucked the paper page up as it crackled and crunched under her firm grip. Slowly her hands unfolded it to read the contents and noted the smudged out date as the day after they discovered Danielle was taken, the words mostly smeared out from long dried tear stains against the aged, reused paper.
“Everyone wants Danielle and Winifred home just as badly as you do. We’re doing what we can but right now, it’s you that I’m worried about most.” Abbie admitted honestly. The older girl’s steps moved towards the desk once again and her free hand gently cleared away a seat right near Lacy’s feet, the objects placed upon the already messy floor. Once propped against the wall, Abigail’s arm reached out and pulled an unresponsive Lacy into her embrace. The girl’s head just laid there against Abbie’s arm, her eyes stared into the room’s far corner without so much as a flinch.
“I want her home, Abbie. Why can’t we just go and get her?” Lacy’s hollowed voice stated the same desire the rest felt.
Abbie just bit her lip and her chin nestled into the younger girl’s head top, her expression lost at how to explain adult reasoning to a teen. All she could whisper was a simple phrase. “I know… I know…”
Gently she rocked Lacy, listening heartbrokenly to the way Lacy’s crying became rhythmic, sniffles spacing further and further apart, as gradually she fell into a comfortable spot snuggled on the desktop with Abbie holding onto her. The dead weight of the slumbering girl made Abbie uncomfortable, but in turn, she fell asleep to the pitter-pat of a light rainstorm she never remembered hearing begin.
In the morning when the soft gray beginnings of light shone through the window tainted with a fine layer of condensation, something rattled Lacy awake, and when the oily film of sleep-gunk coating her eye had dispersed with a few unfazed blinks, she stared blankly at the dull, translucent pane of glass and recollected all the unresolved thoughts she had hoped would not find her.
She became aware that she fell asleep leaning against Abbie on the desktop only a few minutes after regaining full consciousness. Loosely Abbie still hung onto her, one arm draped nimbly around Lacy’s shoulders while the other had fallen onto her own lap. She stirred a little when Lacy started to move, her hands twitching and her ajar mouth closing and tensing; Lacy held still and waited for Abbie to drift back asleep. She would wait a bit while longer, she decided. It would make her feel guilty to wake Abbie after she spent the night holding onto her, being an uncalled for – but certainly welcomed – security blanket.
So Lacy reflected on the dream she had she could only remember fragments of. There was a large, stone platform she stood on. Along with someone whose face she didn’t know she watched a nebula twist and turn in a maelstrom of piercing colors –
In the distance there were a few pops, the unmistakable sound of guns firing in controlled bursts. It was never an uncommon sound but it sent shivers up Lacy’s spine and made her freeze, fearing the shooter might be mowing down the Haven to get to her. It could have just been a few zed-heads lurked too closely to the walls or maybe the nearby shooting range a few blocks over somehow amplified an early-bird learner. There could have been mundane reasons for guns going off unexpectedly in a world where firearms were necessities. But Lacy couldn’t keep away from the pessimistic reasons that existed as well.
The second, more extensive burst of gunfire woke Abbie; it took her a few seconds to comprehend the sound for what it was, and when it clicked she took after Lacy and sat stock-still, anticipating the next few rounds. The two stared at the wall ahead of them, recognizing they still held onto each other but not acknowledging each other verbally. They awaited the moment they had to flee or take cover, the sign that genuine trouble was afoot. It was nerve-wracking and neither breathed, neither made a movement until the bedroom door opened and both girls jumped.
It was Toby, peering into the room innocently enough to check on the two. His hair was an untidy mess and since he had taken on shaving there was an emphasized youthfulness to his look. Yet, as childlike as he may appear, he pulled off the grown-up grimace of concern Darius permanently wore.
“Just making sure we’re all here,” Toby said. He paused after he said it and cringed, regretting his choice of words. “I mean…”
“We know what you meant,” Abbie replied gingerly.
No one said anything else immediately after. Rather, all three turned back to the window and watched nothingness pass by. There was an odd emptiness to the home. Both Sam and Trake were working night shifts on wall patrol, yet to return home; Chuck had secured a job at The Ax & The Round as a bus-boy, a 24-hour bar frequented by travelers; and Darius left early each morning for work, hoping each time the skeleton crew patrolling the hospital was thinned enough that he could catch a word or two with Winifred. With those three gone it left just Lacy, Abbie, Toby and Aurora, and everyone knew Aurora was a heavy sleeper.
In that sense it left Abbie and Toby to play the role of adults while the others were unavailable. It felt foreign to them, and though they were mature enough for their ages, the responsibility of holding down the fort was not something they had managed to grow into just yet. Perhaps it was why both Abbie and Toby waited for the other to speak up, hoping the other would so they wouldn’t have to.
Eventually it was Lacy who spoke first, asking them both, “But d’you think it was anything serious?”
There was another sputter of gunfire and Lacy hoped what she heard right after wasn’t a woman screaming. She looked to Abbie for confirmation, but Abbie couldn’t look back.
“I don’t think so… It could just be…” Abbie’s words trailed off miserably in her attempt to comfort everyone around her. All three knew gunfire wasn’t anything good, their nervousness increased by the sudden sputter of shots that were followed by more screams. Screams far too close for the two teenagers’ comfort; their heads turned to each other but too frightened to ask if it was over to each other.
Silence resumed again. Not a sound in the awkwardness quiet other than their hearts beating as if something Godly had stifled the events for unknown reasons. Abbie let another few minutes pass, forgetting to even breathe, before she started to encourage Lacy and her into motion. Lacy nodded and inch by inch, both girls timidly pulled off the table towards Toby. Their movements slow and careful in fear that their movements would shatter the spell anytime and bring a rain of gun fire over their heads for their daring. Finally, they reached the end when the gunfire started again.
Abbie opened the door farther for the pair to walk through and pushed Lacy into Toby’s arms, followed by a simple order. “Watch her.”
Toby merely nodded and pinned Lacy close to his arms crossed over her, his body stepped back a bit and looked rather worried at what Abbie seemed ready to do. Her one hand reached out for the nearby bow and arrow, both roughly slung over her shoulders while she took her baseball bat in the other. In a fast clip she moved across the room towards the main room. Her body was dowsed in sunlight peeking through the tattered holes in the blanket curtains that hung over the large windows, her body skirted to the side and gently shifted enough to look outside. Her eyes flicked to the strange empty street and spotted two figures, Sam and Trake, hunched over and making their way towards the house. She followed them a bit before; she moved to take hold of the door handle.
Cautiously, Abbie pulled the door open to see the two breathless men looking paranoid. Their heads darted around in fear and panic, guns held close within their palms while Sam wasted little time. His hand shoved Abbie back in, followed by Trake, and then promptly locked it behind him causing Abbie to speak.
“Where the hell have you two been? What’s happening out there?” Abbie’s voice was clearly slightly angered; her words received only silence while Sam’s head peeked outside in the same fashion she had. “Will someone answer me already?”
Trake merely stared out the window but Sam, still edgy, had broken from the window to talk to her. “It’s not important right now.”
Drawn by Sam’s voice, Toby and Lacy had begun making their way into the room now while they approach Abbie still confronting the pair. “No, you’ll tell me now. What is going on? This isn’t normal and you both look like nervous cats on a hot tin roof.”
Sam seemed to redden by Abbie’s resistance and seemed to struggle not to snap, his voice laced with building anger. “Look, Abigail, there’s no time to explain but we can’t stay here.” He turned to Toby and Lacy, his words belted orders over Abbie’s head. “Toby and Lacy get what supplies you can within the pillow cases within the girls’ room, keep in mind we need to make this quick and fast.” Trake kept look out from the window while Sam continued to talk. “Abigail, you start to grab bread and other food. Enough for a short time.”
Abbie was clearly tired of this beating around the bush. Her words tried one more time to get a reasonable explanation out, determined not to allow them to weasel out of it.“Look, Sam. Trake will you two jus-”
A loud bang echoed outside the house, cutting Abigail’s words off while instantly all five bodies hit the ground. Sam jerked Abigail’s arm down and shoved her under him while Toby’s shielded Lacy’s.
Those times Lacy would glance over at Danielle, her round doll-like face buried under ragged strands of golden hair, and Lacy might think about the wide array of moments constructing Danielle’s life. From the Old World days when Danielle was an obnoxious chatterbox incapable of listening to anyone up until the previous week when she slept in her own bed for the last time, Lacy would think of her. These days Lacy mostly thought of the latter; her mind gave her little choice.
The crease in Danielle’s bed sheets remained untouched like the afterglow of a ghost, a haunting reminder. It had been almost a week since the soldiers took Danielle and arrested Winifred. Having been arrested for harboring an Infected and disobeying the law Winifred had been taken in. Due to the gunshot wound in her leg she remained in the hospital, and there was no word on when she would be released. Darius and Aurora had been able to visit her a few times while working at the hospital and it was from Winifred that they heard the story of what happened to Danielle, and it was from there that word of a possible Carrier had somehow gotten out to the public. The flurry of rumors spread at an intense rate, though most rumors seemed to have left out the detail of the “potential vaccine supplier” being a little girl. It made Lacy sick to think of all the men and women willing to sacrifice her sister for a chance at warding off the Infection. It only added to the overwhelming stress that words couldn’t seem to describe.
Winifred told them nothing else significant of what happened. She did not know when she would be released and it made the entire situation a lot more unbearable with not having Winifred around for comfort.
The bob of a faraway glow that leaked out onto the streets flickered as it passed between the low buildings. It brought Lacy back to the present, and the restlessness and sorrow returned. There was hardly a time when she wasn’t worrying over Danielle. The others were keen on constantly assuring Lacy that Danielle would be fine even when it was uncalled for in the conversation. She understood the hopefulness in the group stating the scientists were “professionally” studying Danielle’s immune system and taking only a healthy number of blood samples, but Lacy knew their optimism wavered behind closed doors.
Perhaps if she were to lapse into believing Chico when it said Danielle would be okay and she would be back home soon, Lacy would be able to shake the roaring uneasiness. For the time being until she stumbled into that disillusionment she would stick to pacing the room and mourning a loss that had yet to fully happen.
In a small fit of rage and angst Lacy extended her foot and kicked the wooden chair over. The thud it made as it hit the ground wasn’t nearly as satisfying as Lacy had hoped for.
On top of everything it frustrated Lacy that in the midst of everything she was still treated like a child in desperate need of condolences. The last time Chuck had offhandedly remarked that Danielle “probably has the best room service,” Lacy had to swallow an alien desire to scream a barrage of profanities at him. While the entire scenario had left everyone on edge and many arguments erupted since that specific day, Lacy felt the most emotionally drained from it. The only difference between herself and the others was her lack of a voice, a two-part contribution from being looked over and a lack of confidence she came to see as blinding in every pore on her skin. A calm fraction of her wanted to fall into an ignorant submission and thoughtlessly lean on the others to carry her until Danielle and Winifred came back. But then Danielle’s face would nag at her to rescue her, and for once in her life, Lacy wanted to run headfirst into a battle she doubted she could win if only to save her sister.
But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Not alone, not when she didn’t know where to start or how to even clear her mind just long enough to formulate some coherent thought.
“Lacy?” Abbie abruptly whispered from behind the door, followed by the light tapping of knuckles rapping on the door. “Is everything alright, kiddo?”
Lacy didn’t answer much to Abbie’s disappointment. A little concern by the cold shoulder, her head pressed against the door as she heard the younger girl shuffle around then suddenly go silent again. It had been like this since the incident with Winifred and Danielle, the youth more withdrawn and depressed than before. For Abbie, it seemed a wall had been erected between them.
Everyone had been stunned upon learning what happened, even worse to learn the results. Needless to say they all couldn’t believe it or the fact they aimed to use a little girl to end the infection threat. Something that inwardly disgusted Abigail to think what Danielle might be going through right now and helplessness washed over her, unable to do anything about it. She didn’t even know to start for Danielle but Lacy was another story.
Inside, she knew the sister was suffering terribly and aimed to do what she could to stop it.
Taking a deep breath, Abbie’s hand turned the door knob until it clicked open and pushed. The hinges creaked when it opened to reveal the young girl just staring at the window. Quietly Abbie made her way inside, her eyes noted the chair sprawled out and only paused to pick it up right. Lacy appeared more occupied with staring out the window and didn’t react to her entering the room, barely noted her existence it seemed. Abbie was finding it hard to remain silent while she took a seat on the chair. It was very clear the chair wasn’t made for an adult, her rear sat far too low and her legs crunched upright in an uncomfortable position, her face looked at the girl still staring outside the window.
“I miss her too…”Abbie stated simply, already knowing what was on Lacy’s mind.
Against the starry backdrop of a nighttime sky, Lacy’s shadowy silhouette looked locked in a picture-perfect stillness. She didn’t stir or flinch when Abbie spoke to her; Abbie didn’t know if Lacy had fully heard what she said or if the younger girl let each word drift into the background, unnoticed and uncared for.
It was bothersome, Lacy’s seclusion and silence. Abbie had spent the past few days listening to the others endlessly discuss the situation with no new information to carry it in different directions. The overwhelming stress of worrying about Danielle was eating away at everyone. The helplessness they all shared was a constant feeling. There was never a direct explanation from the government on what occurred; the group had to find out the hard way what had happened, and if it was ever known that Aurora made contact with Winifred and recovered the true side of the story, the entire group would face exile – or something much worse.
The “story” they were spoon-fed by a horse-faced woman in a crisp pantsuit before Aurora found out the real half of it was that Danielle had infected numerous – coincidentally unnamed – victims and Winifred attacked the guards as they tried to remove the long-gone young girl. It was brief and vague, and it sparked explosive reactions from everyone. Sam and Trake were on the verge of breaking into the hospital to find both Danielle and Winifred, but it became clear from the get-go that the group was ranked high on the government’s VIP list. They were all quite aware that soldiers patrolled the street by their house closely, ensuring they kept a close eye on the group.
But once they knew the truth and heard rumors that filtered out slowly from inside the sector where Danielle was held, the group pieced it together and understood. Danielle was somehow Immune and being held captive as a science project. What the group remained unsure on was whether Danielle was still breathing or not, and if she was, how long she still had. It was unspoken amongst the group but like a hive mind they all knew it: Danielle would not be let go freely. No one dared to say a word of that highly probable theory in front of Lacy, and watching Lacy losing herself in introspective thoughts, Abbie wished she never would have to.
After Lacy’s lack of awareness began to grow stale and she had yet to show any sign of a willingness to talk, Abbie stood and decided to leave, decided to shelf talking with Lacy for another time when she was better suited for it.
She took a step closer to the door and paused when there was a crunch under her foot. A lone sheet of paper sat on the floor, words scribbled quickly on it and looking like a diary entry. Just as Abbie bent down to pick it up out of sheer curiosity, Lacy finally spoke and it startled Abbie.
“Can we just go get her? Like, right now - let’s just… go get her.” Lacy suggested. She didn’t sound like she would dare to believe her own idea herself; she didn’t sound like she was even awake as she said it. There was no personality left in her voice. Only some sort of sorrowful sound.
Abbie paused, unsure of what she could possibly say in return. It was something everyone else wanted to do as well; they wanted to tear apart the Haven until they had both Winifred and Danielle safely with them. But they couldn’t; they would be no use to anyone after they had been shot for stepping out of line, and the seriousness of it gave them very little wiggle room to make any slip-ups.
“I wish it was that easy. Sadly, the world can’t work like that and hating it won’t change a thing.” Abbie began in her weak effort to break the settled silence. Once more her fingers gingerly plucked the paper page up as it crackled and crunched under her firm grip. Slowly her hands unfolded it to read the contents and noted the smudged out date as the day after they discovered Danielle was taken, the words mostly smeared out from long dried tear stains against the aged, reused paper.
“Everyone wants Danielle and Winifred home just as badly as you do. We’re doing what we can but right now, it’s you that I’m worried about most.” Abbie admitted honestly. The older girl’s steps moved towards the desk once again and her free hand gently cleared away a seat right near Lacy’s feet, the objects placed upon the already messy floor. Once propped against the wall, Abigail’s arm reached out and pulled an unresponsive Lacy into her embrace. The girl’s head just laid there against Abbie’s arm, her eyes stared into the room’s far corner without so much as a flinch.
“I want her home, Abbie. Why can’t we just go and get her?” Lacy’s hollowed voice stated the same desire the rest felt.
Abbie just bit her lip and her chin nestled into the younger girl’s head top, her expression lost at how to explain adult reasoning to a teen. All she could whisper was a simple phrase. “I know… I know…”
Gently she rocked Lacy, listening heartbrokenly to the way Lacy’s crying became rhythmic, sniffles spacing further and further apart, as gradually she fell into a comfortable spot snuggled on the desktop with Abbie holding onto her. The dead weight of the slumbering girl made Abbie uncomfortable, but in turn, she fell asleep to the pitter-pat of a light rainstorm she never remembered hearing begin.
In the morning when the soft gray beginnings of light shone through the window tainted with a fine layer of condensation, something rattled Lacy awake, and when the oily film of sleep-gunk coating her eye had dispersed with a few unfazed blinks, she stared blankly at the dull, translucent pane of glass and recollected all the unresolved thoughts she had hoped would not find her.
She became aware that she fell asleep leaning against Abbie on the desktop only a few minutes after regaining full consciousness. Loosely Abbie still hung onto her, one arm draped nimbly around Lacy’s shoulders while the other had fallen onto her own lap. She stirred a little when Lacy started to move, her hands twitching and her ajar mouth closing and tensing; Lacy held still and waited for Abbie to drift back asleep. She would wait a bit while longer, she decided. It would make her feel guilty to wake Abbie after she spent the night holding onto her, being an uncalled for – but certainly welcomed – security blanket.
So Lacy reflected on the dream she had she could only remember fragments of. There was a large, stone platform she stood on. Along with someone whose face she didn’t know she watched a nebula twist and turn in a maelstrom of piercing colors –
In the distance there were a few pops, the unmistakable sound of guns firing in controlled bursts. It was never an uncommon sound but it sent shivers up Lacy’s spine and made her freeze, fearing the shooter might be mowing down the Haven to get to her. It could have just been a few zed-heads lurked too closely to the walls or maybe the nearby shooting range a few blocks over somehow amplified an early-bird learner. There could have been mundane reasons for guns going off unexpectedly in a world where firearms were necessities. But Lacy couldn’t keep away from the pessimistic reasons that existed as well.
The second, more extensive burst of gunfire woke Abbie; it took her a few seconds to comprehend the sound for what it was, and when it clicked she took after Lacy and sat stock-still, anticipating the next few rounds. The two stared at the wall ahead of them, recognizing they still held onto each other but not acknowledging each other verbally. They awaited the moment they had to flee or take cover, the sign that genuine trouble was afoot. It was nerve-wracking and neither breathed, neither made a movement until the bedroom door opened and both girls jumped.
It was Toby, peering into the room innocently enough to check on the two. His hair was an untidy mess and since he had taken on shaving there was an emphasized youthfulness to his look. Yet, as childlike as he may appear, he pulled off the grown-up grimace of concern Darius permanently wore.
“Just making sure we’re all here,” Toby said. He paused after he said it and cringed, regretting his choice of words. “I mean…”
“We know what you meant,” Abbie replied gingerly.
No one said anything else immediately after. Rather, all three turned back to the window and watched nothingness pass by. There was an odd emptiness to the home. Both Sam and Trake were working night shifts on wall patrol, yet to return home; Chuck had secured a job at The Ax & The Round as a bus-boy, a 24-hour bar frequented by travelers; and Darius left early each morning for work, hoping each time the skeleton crew patrolling the hospital was thinned enough that he could catch a word or two with Winifred. With those three gone it left just Lacy, Abbie, Toby and Aurora, and everyone knew Aurora was a heavy sleeper.
In that sense it left Abbie and Toby to play the role of adults while the others were unavailable. It felt foreign to them, and though they were mature enough for their ages, the responsibility of holding down the fort was not something they had managed to grow into just yet. Perhaps it was why both Abbie and Toby waited for the other to speak up, hoping the other would so they wouldn’t have to.
Eventually it was Lacy who spoke first, asking them both, “But d’you think it was anything serious?”
There was another sputter of gunfire and Lacy hoped what she heard right after wasn’t a woman screaming. She looked to Abbie for confirmation, but Abbie couldn’t look back.
“I don’t think so… It could just be…” Abbie’s words trailed off miserably in her attempt to comfort everyone around her. All three knew gunfire wasn’t anything good, their nervousness increased by the sudden sputter of shots that were followed by more screams. Screams far too close for the two teenagers’ comfort; their heads turned to each other but too frightened to ask if it was over to each other.
Silence resumed again. Not a sound in the awkwardness quiet other than their hearts beating as if something Godly had stifled the events for unknown reasons. Abbie let another few minutes pass, forgetting to even breathe, before she started to encourage Lacy and her into motion. Lacy nodded and inch by inch, both girls timidly pulled off the table towards Toby. Their movements slow and careful in fear that their movements would shatter the spell anytime and bring a rain of gun fire over their heads for their daring. Finally, they reached the end when the gunfire started again.
Abbie opened the door farther for the pair to walk through and pushed Lacy into Toby’s arms, followed by a simple order. “Watch her.”
Toby merely nodded and pinned Lacy close to his arms crossed over her, his body stepped back a bit and looked rather worried at what Abbie seemed ready to do. Her one hand reached out for the nearby bow and arrow, both roughly slung over her shoulders while she took her baseball bat in the other. In a fast clip she moved across the room towards the main room. Her body was dowsed in sunlight peeking through the tattered holes in the blanket curtains that hung over the large windows, her body skirted to the side and gently shifted enough to look outside. Her eyes flicked to the strange empty street and spotted two figures, Sam and Trake, hunched over and making their way towards the house. She followed them a bit before; she moved to take hold of the door handle.
Cautiously, Abbie pulled the door open to see the two breathless men looking paranoid. Their heads darted around in fear and panic, guns held close within their palms while Sam wasted little time. His hand shoved Abbie back in, followed by Trake, and then promptly locked it behind him causing Abbie to speak.
“Where the hell have you two been? What’s happening out there?” Abbie’s voice was clearly slightly angered; her words received only silence while Sam’s head peeked outside in the same fashion she had. “Will someone answer me already?”
Trake merely stared out the window but Sam, still edgy, had broken from the window to talk to her. “It’s not important right now.”
Drawn by Sam’s voice, Toby and Lacy had begun making their way into the room now while they approach Abbie still confronting the pair. “No, you’ll tell me now. What is going on? This isn’t normal and you both look like nervous cats on a hot tin roof.”
Sam seemed to redden by Abbie’s resistance and seemed to struggle not to snap, his voice laced with building anger. “Look, Abigail, there’s no time to explain but we can’t stay here.” He turned to Toby and Lacy, his words belted orders over Abbie’s head. “Toby and Lacy get what supplies you can within the pillow cases within the girls’ room, keep in mind we need to make this quick and fast.” Trake kept look out from the window while Sam continued to talk. “Abigail, you start to grab bread and other food. Enough for a short time.”
Abbie was clearly tired of this beating around the bush. Her words tried one more time to get a reasonable explanation out, determined not to allow them to weasel out of it.“Look, Sam. Trake will you two jus-”
A loud bang echoed outside the house, cutting Abigail’s words off while instantly all five bodies hit the ground. Sam jerked Abigail’s arm down and shoved her under him while Toby’s shielded Lacy’s.
Fallenreaper said
Mind if I bring the post to an end then?
Yeah, definitely. It's getting a little on the long side anyway, so it may be wise to end it now.
Fallenreaper said
I'll start backing mine up from now on...*looks guilty*
Shame on you! Tsk, tsk!
By the way Fallen, I have the next bit of the post up. Don't mind my OOC monologue at the end. I've started storing most of the posts, and I'll definitely continue to. I think I have some sort of attachment anxiety to our RP now. I'm so afraid we'll lose everything again, and I just got over mourning the old IC. This is too much stress for me.
On a totally random note: I just need to take a moment to be weirdly emotional and say how I've grown to care for most of our characters. I can't read Simon's thoughts about Winifred without feeling genuine guilt knowing Winifred doesn't think the same about him. She's a part of his motivation to fight and survive - a beacon of hope, and yet she has a bunch of other people that keep her going, none of them being Simon. She doesn't know he thinks that way about her and vice-versa.
That all honestly makes me feel like a right ass for not having Winifred fall in love with him from the start. Not because I want a happy ending for Winifred, but because Simon deserves one and I don't think Winifred could ever properly provide that. It makes me dislike Winifred a bit, to be honest, and I'm contemplating changing what I had planned for her because I care more about Simon than I do Win. I don't think I'd be satisfied with the type of ending where they both admit their undying love for one another and officially become Winimon (sounds like a Digimon), but at the same time, I feel sorry for Simon. I really do... even though he's not a real person.
Totally not trying to discourage you, Shon. You already know how I feel about their future and I love what we discussed on it (and I'm definitely not going back on our ideas). And I definitely don't want you to change anything about it. I just wanted you to know I absolutely love Simon and how his character actually resonates with me. Keep up the thought-provoking work, you talented artist, you.
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