Force and Fury

Hello From Purple Fantasy

Welcome aboard. If there's any help of info you'd like in navigating and finding stories, feel free to ask!

Lurking

Glad you've decided to emerge from the shadows. Welcome aboard!

Mystery Tag For RPs

Just wanted to pop in here to offer my support. I'd love a 'Mystery' tag. Also something between 'medieval' and 'modern' would be great as a time period tag.

Beta Testers Needed

If you need a second Firefox tester down the line, shoot me a message! I'm good to go.

The Hourglass Order

Whew! Some legit mad scientist cred for Taleja, @Ti. She scary!

Left Behind: Mulberry Street

W I N N I E S P A R L I N G

_{Location: Backyard, Sparling Home}

Timeframe: Early Afternoon

---

_{Interaction(s): Jason Sparling, Lila Sparling}

Previously: Group Playthrough

Winnie didn't recognize him, but she still felt weirdly bad for the man. Maybe a tourist? Maybe someone who'd just been passing through or visiting family? He twitched and staggered, bereft of all humanity, and she put the binoculars down. There was another one like him, she knew, at the opposite end of the street. Jason had called them a 'Damocles Sword' hanging over everyone's head, but Winnie liked to think of them as more of a reminder. Not since that first terrifying day when she had run from school as fast as her legs could carry her, when she'd watched people laugh as their teacher had spasmed and contorted, thinking it was an April Fools' joke before realizing otherwise too late, had she encountered a zombie. Some were calling them 'creeps' now, because 'zombie' seemed too unreal, but it was real. These were zombies. That was that. They weren't funny anymore. They weren't something to watch in movies or kill in videogames. They weren't a 'critical reflection of our yearning to escape the mundane', as Mr. Carlos had been so fond of saying. They were things that could bite your face off now: things you could become. The pair bookending Mulberry street were a constant reminder that, even when they weren't in front of you, they were there. They were death waiting for you at any moment.

Could they climb trees, though? Winnie had often wondered that. She'd made plans around it, even. It was, to some extent, why she was up in a tree now, straddling a branch and swinging her feet idly - nervously - back and forth. She'd always felt safer up in high places, even as her parents had done everything within their power to keep her on the ground, including the destruction of the treehouse that Grandpa had built. Winnie wasn't Lila, though. She wouldn't fall and break her back.

It was at that precise moment that she noticed her sister, coming around the side of the house with... "Why's there a pitchfork tied to your wheelchair!?"

Lila swept some hair from her eyes - it was a bit of a breezy day - and squinted up at her. "My own sense of self-defense," came the reply.

Jason was right behind her. "I had to retrieve her from the garage because she couldn't turn in a small space."

"On the plus side, if there are any kings that need overthrowing, I'm your girl."

Sometimes, Winnie decided, it was hard being eleven and already the smartest one in your family.

"Don't worry. It'll be a chainsaw instead once we have more gas."

Winnie's dangling feet swung back and forth. "A gun would probably be more effective. Think we can borrow Zia Carina's?"

Jason shook his head. "Won't let us touch it on pain of death," he grumbled, "but I've got my swords."

Lila visibly grimaced, but Winnie thought that she didn't really have a leg to stand on here. She was sporting a pitchfork, for the love of God. "Now come on, Buggy," her older sister prodded, and the girl was already swinging herself off of her current branch. "We've gotta go. We're meeting up at the gazebo."

"Yeah, it's time this street started organizing or we're all zombie chow."

---

---

C A R I N A Z A N E T T I

_{Location: Backyard, Sparling Home}

Timeframe: Early Afternoon

---

_{Interaction(s): Alana Sparling}

Previously: none

The children were up to something. Carina could sense it. There'd been a flurry of text messages and that was never a good sign. It was not a good sign because, when kids did something without telling the adults, it meant that they were doing something stupid. Stupid things got people killed and, right now, Mulberry street needed people. "Coming up on your eight." Carrying a stack of pots, she passed Alana in the yard, where the (former) psychologist was working on planting more vegetables. Normally, Carina would have been horrified. She'd have mobilized the HOA, but this was the end of the world and things needed to be rethought and she was stuck with it. Ideally, the whole street would be turned into a series of heavily fortified farms, self-sufficient, with one 'hub' providing electricity as needed.

To this end, she spent the entire first half of the day digging and planting and following a mix of the guides Lila had printed and what her parents had taught her. A good half of their backyard, growing up, had been a fruit and vegetable garden and vivid were her memories of chasing Adrian and Devon through rows of Cucuzza trellises. It would take at least a couple of years for this yard to reach that sort of production, but then they'd have food security. The problem was that Carina doubted they'd make it that far. Devon was missing and she'd been trying not to think about it. Alana was a psychologist, Winnie was a child, and Lila was... a liability. It pained her to see her niece like that. She'd been thriving before Hollywood monsters had made themselves real. Now she was helpless and doomed and she knew it. Brave girl, though: she'd hardly said a word to anyone. She'd just made herself useful. That was all she could do. All any of them could do.

Carina went inside and made herself a late lunch: the last of their cold cuts save the smoked and salted hams in the pantry. The bread was all bad anyhow and had to be toasted. She stalked outside after putting everything away, sandwich in one hand and pliers in the other, intent on tightening some of their warning wires. That was when she noticed Jason and Lila moving together with purpose towards the backyard, the former with a pair of those cheap Japanese-style swords he'd bought online strapped across his back and the latter with a...pitchfork strapped to her wheelchair. It was an effort not to call them out then and there, but more would be gained via eavesdropping. Carina continued eating, but she kept her ears open and made her way right to the edge of the yard, not quite comically peering around the corner. Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum met up with Winnie and, before she knew it, she could hear the Three Stooges planning some sort of secret meeting, just as she'd earlier suspected.

Gazebo, two o'clock. She went inside to tell Alana.

The Hourglass Order

---

---

---

---

M A R C E L I N E || ♫

---

---

Present: Yalen Castel @pantothenic, Ayla Arslan @Ti, Evander Fino Synesti @RezonanceV, Tku Pictor @dragonpiece, Fiske Flachstrauch @jasbraq, and Zarina Al-Nader @YummyYummy, Desmond Catulus @Th3King0fChaos

---

---

"The door, Ayla! Help me with the door!" We get it closed just on time but, already, more of those tiny, metallic, flesh-eating beetles are pouring through and a moment of doubt takes me. I can't outrun them. I'm not fast. I've never been fast. One leaps at my face, tracing a glowing orange line through the sky, and I can hear that awful snapping and clicking they man. The air boils and distorts with heat and I draw as much as I can in and hammer the bugs back with a kinetic wave.

Ayla's trying something sonic and I feel my ears ring, but then I'm turning and running, disoriented by her careless attack. For what it's worth, she drops a couple dozen, but there are thousands now. More come for me. They're vicious and uncannily smart. They go straight for my head and my legs. If I raise my arms out of instinct to protect the former, they slip in and go for the soft bits around my sides. Brilliant, multicoloured streaks of light, they'd be entrancingly beautiful were they not vile hellspawn bent on my murder.

A bunch are in Ayla's hair and she tries to crush them with that prehensile trick she does, but they're tough, too! A handful land on her midsection and I scream for her to watch out, flicking a couple away while she crushes a third, but the fourth one flares and she's hurled away, a great big smoking burn all along her side. She lets out a pained cry and sprawls across the ground. "Nine lives, Kitty Cat! Come on!" I spare a few seconds and disintegrate some bugs to heal her, but they're fast and she's not quite good as new. She's on her feet, though, thanking me, and we're not cooked yet. Five months ago, when my tethering was out of control, I'd have been dead, full stop. I still might be. This is bad. Very bad.

I hit them with Arc Lightning once there are more, and it must fry upwards of a hundred, lighting up the dark and ruined halls of Zarfan like the middle of the day for a moment, but this is a straightaway and, even as we thin their numbers, more just pour in, and they gain on us.

Dimly, we can sense the others. I reach out as Ayla tries another of those pulses and it seems to placate the leading edge of the swarm, but more just overtake them. I know, vaguely, where Zarina and Tku are, fighting something insidious that I can't quite detect. I can feel the bursts of Desmond's gun and Fiske's Chemical Magic as swarms of something fiendishly fast envelop them. A colossal atomic something from Benedetto complements Evander's lightning, similar to my own, but their enemies are a pair of huge and stout I-don't-know-whats. Finally, there is the awe-inspiring power of Jocasta and Yalen. Whatever the couple that slays together is facing, they make quick work of it. Yet, they seem to have no more luck than Ayla and I in breaking through this weird magical fog that lives in the walls.

Ayla shouts at me to jump, and I do. Moments later, we're sliding down some kind of steep slope, the demon scarabs receding into the back, their burning, chittering mass still lighting up the path behind us. She saw one of those arrows, she explains. It's our working theory that Jocasta's been able to break through just enough to put them up. She's trying to direct us all to a meeting point by the temporal heart. I'm skeptical, but Ayla believes in her and I know my mother does, so I have to do what I'm worst at and trust. It's not like we have options.

The ground comes up fast, just as I try to brighten our way with a basic Arcane skill. I brake hard and fill myself with Kinetic force, but I can still feel an unwelcome twinge in my ankle. My Torragonese partner lands more smoothly and we find ourselves in a truly vast chamber. I brighten my light as I try to heal my ankle, and the great dim outlines of houses, palaces, and ziggurats loom, tenebrous, in the cavernous depths.

Then, there's the sound of the swarm again, and the tunnel entrance begins to glow like the mouth of a dragon just before it belches fire. "Run, Ayla!" I scream, but she's already doing it, slowing herself just enough so I can kind of keep up. I draw again, slowing a bit as I do so and converting on the spot. Wicked forks of lightning whip and spit across the ruined city and spider up the swarm until hundreds of scarabs ignite, but I spend too much time admiring my handiwork. The vanguard is already upon us. I feel a burst of impossible heat right behind me and the trailing hem of my dress - or the tattered edge of what's left of it is on fire! Ayla's hair cracks and swishes, batting scarabs away, but then three blow themselves and the area around her glows gold, blue, and purple for a moment. She's hurled away, hair fried up to shoulder length, and hits the ground, picking herself up as I push another wave back and she unleashes a blast of light to stun the onslaught. There has to be an arrow. Please, Jocasta! There has to be! I try to do something about Ayla's scrapes and bruises, but I can barely see, much less run and fight and try to find the arrow. It's too much! It's all too -

My foot catches on something. I'm not sure what it is, but I'm flying, and then falling, and that's when I see the arrow. It's illuminating a set of great double doors and beyond them I can sense the familiar swirl of temporal magic. Then, the ground is there and the bugs are surrounding me and I realize that I should've focused on staying on my feet. Then, I wouldn't be about to die.

---

---

L A D Y D E A T H || ♫

---

---

It is at this moment that we find our ten heroes separated into pairs and fighting for their very lives. Yes, I say 'ten heroes' because Yalen has decided to remain yet longer and Isabella is not among them. She is, at this very moment, back at San Agustin, courtesy of the Jocasta portal that brought Manuel Escarra and his rangers back and Marceline through to unite with her friends: a decision that, in retrospect, has proven to be her worst in some time.

As the Goddess of Death, I take no pleasure in people's suffering, much as I look forward to their entrance into my realm. Marceline is in grave danger and so are a couple of others. Is it their time? I cannot, in good faith, answer that question right now. Desmond has been drained of a good deal of his power and he does not see the Demon Bat coming up from behind and below. There are oh so many and Fiske cannot seem to successfully hide from them. They... detect him somehow, even with his magic in play. Benedetto has been hammering at the Sandy Threshers for some time, but they seem impervious to his atomic blasts and grounded against Evander's lightning. Both appear too proud to give any ground and I feel that I will soon be able to reel in their threads if they do not make a change. As for Zarina? She finds herself against an enemy that no armour will protect against and no amount of power repel. A sentient fog: quick, swirling, and endlessly reforming if dispelled, follows herself and Tku, its very presence blunting their senses, slowing their reactions, and draining them of their vitality. From it emerge skeletal monkeys, horses, and frogs, piling themselves at the pair, the dust created when they're destroyed or dispelled deadening the very magic in the air. Oh, and as for Yalen and Jocasta? They find themselves in the Hall of Needles, where the air itself burns and melts upon contact with them and small needles of obsidian launch themselves from the walls, floor, and ceiling by the hundreds.

It is said that the Dead City is a cursed place, so how is it that these ten fools ended up here? An investigation. After leaving a content and slightly bemused sand wyrm behind them, they followed a ranger's direction, their own magic senses, and consulted the message in the tube. It began glowing with an arrow to point them inexorably towards the city and inside of it: one that Jocasta replicated as a sort of signal. As the light of the outside world faded and they traveled ever deeper, strange energies swirled, for this was an ancient and cruel place and they could feel the weight of temporal energy at its very heart, beckoning to them just beyond a familiar challenge: mundane and not dissimilar to one already encountered by Zarina and Jocasta in another ancient place a good ways distant. A simple puzzle of colours and fives and splitting up for what was supposed to be mere seconds, it was spoken of in grateful terms, almost dismissive ones by some.

Their reward for solving it, however? THIS. Will they escape? How will they escape? For most, the arrows beckon. Are they Jocasta's work or someone else's? There is something familiar about them, for what it's worth. Do the other eight dare trust their only lead? What awaits on the other side of the doors they all now approach?

I cannot, in good faith, answer these questions. Only they can.

---

---

Primitive, Chapter Three: End of the Tunnel, begins! || ♫

---

---

The Hourglass Order

---

---

---

---

♫

---

---

Present: Yalen Castel @pantothenic, Maura Mercador @Ti, Trypano Somia @A Lowly Wretch, Ingrid Penderson @dragonpiece, Niallus Saberhagen @McKennaJ71, and Abdel Varga @YummyYummy

---

---

When they woke up in the morning, Xiulan was not there. It was cool and overcast and the cityscape was red and gold and increasingly barren brown where trees peeked out among the sea of rooftops. In fact, she was not there for the start of breakfast either and, when she arrived, sweat pasted a few stray locks of hair to her forehead and she was noticeably out of breath despite her efforts to hide it. People had already started eating and the meal consisted of items one might not normally have considered 'morning food'.

"Very sorry!" she chirped, sliding into a seat beside Yalen. "I have some sings to arrange zis morning. We have a busy day!" They bundled up as they ate, but the inn was kept quite warm and it wasn't strictly necessary. Yin and Mr. Wei scurried about, attending to everything they needed and a good many things that they didn't. If one were to look carefully, it would be evident that both seemed to have bags under their eyes, and the younger of the two quickly hid a yawn at more than one point. They were nothing if not professional, however: all smiles and helpfulness when they needed to be.

A couple of the students, as well, were possibly not as... bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as they might've been. Kaureerah picked at her guitar a bit listlessly as a couple of fleeting, significant glances passed between her and Yalen. Maura was perhaps a bit less energetic than usual. She had been out last night, scouting some locations by the docks, and she had sensed something, fleetingly, as if it were the echo of some great distant 'crash': intense magic use, and powerful. It had been too much to ask for her to follow it, however, and she had returned to familiarizing herself with the area unsupervised, not entirely sure what - if anything - she was searching for. She had employed magic sparingly, when needed, to help her navigate the built environment or light her way. Yet, after some time doing this, she could sense them at the fringes of her range: people, always people following her, and brief flares of minor magic use, but never more, and never getting too close.

It was a different world by day, and how alien yet familiar, how exciting and new and gorgeous Retan was! Xiulan seemed eager to split her time mostly between Yalen and Maura as they were led through the spice market and the textile market. There was some time to shop, escorted for their own safety, of course, before they were taken to see a customs house, invited into a beautiful island pavillion in a lake within a walled garden for tea, and then shown around what was called a 'Guardian Station'. The uniforms of the people there seemed to vary by department, though the majority were blue, red, and orange, with a smattering of green, brown, and gold, the last of them similar to those of their escort. There, they were each given a folder to study for later, with details of the gruesome murders of mostly-minor government officials by the Traveler's Agent, who local law enforcement had nicknamed the 'Pale Ghost'.

Wherever the group of foreigners went, save the Station, curious onlookers seemed to follow them and some attempted to sell them items. Even within the station, a few still craned their necks or stole glances or whispered among their fellows. During this time, they saw not a single Constantian or Severan face, much less anything more exotic.

It was the later afternoon by the time they were led to a restaurant at the edge of a great plaza, where the colourful Exemplar of Creation and Destruction, Wu Long, was waiting for them in his official robes, surrounded by orderlies and guards who he soon dismissed to other tables to be treated to a dinner well above their pay grade. "Good to see you," he greeted each of the students, somehow able to recall all of their names. "Your first full day in ReTan," he remarked, leading them to a table. "How invigorating, I'm sure. How exciting. I bet you learned much." His tone was... queer. Was it sarcasm? Was he simply that earnest? Was he probing?

Their host made polite conversation with them all, and they found him somewhat more open than the others they had spoken with. When Rikard, sitting beside Xiulan, commented that they were being rather purposely and prominently displayed on the patio, she blushed and her eyes darted about awkwardly for the umpteenth time that evening, but the Exemplar merely let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, absolutely!" he confirmed, "for that is the Retanese way." He took a moment to dab at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "I find we are an odd paradox, as a people: very taken with displays of influence, wealth, and exclusivity, yet sneaky." He nodded. "We are sneaky, I fear, as you may have already gathered, and opaque."

The sun was getting low as dinner was served, its golden rays like great fingers of light across the flagstones, long and lengthening shadows separating them. People bustled about on their evening business, some pausing to glance at the odd group so displayed on the patio. When they noticed the Exemplar, they bowed deeply in his presence and, receiving a nod, continued on their way. "This is my country," Wu Long assured them, "and I love it despite its imperfections."

Indeed, there were families walking about, young couples holding hands or kissing under trees, and children running about, their play powered mostly by imagination. In particular, two little boys had been at it for some time, one moving as if in a bubble of slow time and the other always trying to get in behind him. They'd now broken into something of an argument. "但我是睡鲤鱼。你应该慢慢绕着我走！(But I'm Sleeping Carp. You're supposed to move slowly around me!) the former insisted. "不！我是笑鱿鱼也许我用了我的特殊能力，我已经在你身后了。" (No! I'm Laughing Squid. Maybe I used my special ability and I'm already behind you.) They continued bickering for another minute or so before they moved on, and some of the group idly watched them.

Captain Zhu plucked up the courage to speak, then, when the show was over. He had been quiet and deeply respectful int he presence of one so revered. It was Xiulan who translated for him. "You may have notice how little magic used here," she said, and he continued for her to translate further. "We know zat zis is not ze way of your land." As he spoke, she spoke. "But we belief it is better for few trusted people have it when we need zan everybody." He gestured outward in an all-encompassing gesture and Wu Long was silent, poised and listening. "You see how peaceful and prosperity it has make our nation."

The Exemplar stabbed at his food with his chopsticks and bit down. "Well spoken, Captain..." He quickly repeated himself in Retanese. Captain Zhu bowed his head crisply and deeply.

The sun began to set in earnest and lanterns glowed ever brighter into the burgeoning gloom. It was then that those not already drunk on their fifth cup of baiju and alert enough towards their surroundings may have noticed something: magic use. Their host noticed it too, and he straightened. Five men and a woman in grey uniforms similar to those of the Guardians strode briskly towards one of the large and opulent houses across the square. People cut them a wide berth, bordering on outright fear.

Wu Long began cleaning himself up and the students would feel a significant amount of energy drawn his way, but he remained outwardly nonchalant, even as the area began to feel almost-uncomfortably warm. Captain Zhu rose to his feet and barked out orders to his men. Dai, Huang, Xie, and Peng quickly joined him, drawing as well. Wang, Chen, Zhang, and Zheng spread out. "我应该把它们带到安全的地方吗?" (should I take them somewhere safe?) Xiulan inquired with some urgency, but Wu Long merely dusted some crumbs from his robes and tilted his head to one side. "No," he replied in Avincian, much to the translator's visible distress and a worried look from Captain Zhu. "It is not business that concerns us anyhow, and I think our guests can handle themselves should the need arise, else why would they be here?" He addressed the biros. "Get ready for a show, I think. You're about to see the Grey Ghosts in action." His eyes narrowed and an almost predatory smile creased his lips.

From inside the house, some two hundred yards distant, came flares of quick, precise, powerful magic. Then, to Kaureerah's shock and dismay, an older man was dragged out into the street and flung roughly to the pavement by two of the grey-robed figures. "你的主人在哪里!?" (Where is your master?) demanded the sole woman of the group. She was beautiful, but steely-eyed and severe in bearing. "不知道!" (Don't know!) he insisted, "我不知道!" (I don't know!) he cried.

"我不相信你" (I don't believe you.) came the frosty reply. The already-thinning crowds swirled back to a distance, radiating fear, but they did not entirely flee as kicks rained down upon the old servant. "What's his crime?" Kaureerah blurted, clearly distraught at the display. "How do they know he's guilty!?"

Xiulan shifted uncomfortably, but she put on a sympathetic smile and grabbed hold of the eeiako's hand. "I know it is... distressing," she admitted, and Kaureerah noticed that her hand was trembling, "But if the Grey Ghosts come for him, he is guilty already. One hundred percent, or he's master. He has been done some very bad sing. Do not to worry."

Wu Long sat there, tall and stoic, expression unreadable. "Do not worry," he repeated, with slightly better grammar, "This is Retan."

---

---

Action Opportunities

Coming Soon!

---

---

The Hourglass Order

---

---

B E N E D E T T O

---

---

Benedetto pulled up at the last second possible, but the concussive force still sent Zarina flying. To her credit, she landed easily enough. The Wyrm, meanwhile, seemed well and truly pacified. It rose slowly from the sand, serpentine but for the small, streamlined limbs currently tucked into its sides. The scale of it was truly breathtaking. "Just because we don't need to blow it up doesn't mean we're taming a fucking Sand Wyrm, Benny announced, very much not about to be ordered around by some noble girl like he was a common servant.

The rangers were being ushered through a portal by Escarra as he spoke. It seemed to be something of a standoff now. The colossal dragon towered overhead, and the Revidian could tell that this was perhaps but a third of its total length. Great saurian eyes flicked about the group of tiny humans and he thought to reach out and sense what else was in the area. Dirt, critters, and... temporal ripples. They weren't his and it occurred to him that they were probably Jocasta's but... they had a lack of finesse to them that did not match her skill level. Then, he felt a surge, and the creature clearly felt it too. It rose up in a threat display before a pair of halassa materialized out of thin air in front of it and dropped roughly to the ground.

The desert titan swept in immediately and the the big tortoises had no chance. They thrashed and spat and steamed, but the crack of their shells and the sight of the sand wyrm rearing back and swallowing them was one that burned itself into more than one memory. It eyed the group of youths for a moment and then, with a ground-shaking twist, turned on the spot and sank beneath the sands, leaving hardly a ripple in its wake. Benedetto's eyes narrowed. "Anyone else feel that temporal fuckery?" he asked, not singling Jocasta out for sole praise. "Looks like someone put big n' beautiful there up to this little stunt." Jocasta's portal was still up and she regarded him evaluatively. "Benny's not wrong, for once," she replied. "We should group up with Yalen and Izzy and figure this out."

"Trail's gonna go grow cold," Benny spat.

"Trail's gonna begin back at the rangers' camp," came the reply, and they fairly glared at each other. She could never resist an opportunity to insult him and, before they were back at the school, she would be given cause to regret it.

Then, came a new voice. "Actually, it begins some ways before that." It was Manuel Escarra. "And it's... strange. Now, I think we should step through this young woman's portal."

---

---

Left Behind: Mulberry Street

T H E S P A R L I N G S : S U R V I V A L S Q U A D

---

---

J A S O N S P A R L I N G

_{Location: Jason's Room --> Kitchen, Sparling Home}

Timeframe: Morning

---

_{Interaction(s): Holly Holloway @Kuro, Lila Sparling}

Previously: Group Playthrough

Jason was woken up by the buzzing of his phone and he rolled over immediately to grab it in case it was dad and not just Zia Carina bugging him to go help with the garden or Zeke or Liam pinging him in another Zombie Apocalypse meme on discord. He shook his head to clear it. That'd all be gone soon and he honestly didn't know what the world would look like without it. Pulling the phone to himself, he remembered to keep it plugged in at all times. You could never quite know when the power would finally give up. There was the old generator Great-Grandma had kept for her and Great Gramps' ice fishing shed, but it was vintage 1970s and Lila was the one who'd been working on it. They needed to take all four cars - Mom's, Zia's, Lila's, and his - and all the spare tanks in the shed and empty a gas station.

Jason had paused in thought, but now he rolled onto his back, flicking and tabbing through his phone and... it was neither dad nor the crew. It was... Holly? She was... out of food. A tightness invaded his chest. That was a thing now: a thing to worry about. He'd actually snuck into town a week ago, in his full gear, and emptied the old general store that had once been the Sparling Arms of all its good stuff. He'd seen zombies too: one or two in the distance, but they hadn't seen him and he'd made it out to a tongue-lashing from his mom and a smirk of praise from Zia Carina. He flipped out of the group chat and over to private messages. There, he paused with his fingers over the screen. What to even say...? Holly was cool. They weren't like... best friends or anything, but she'd been the first person to play with him when he'd been the 'new kid' in Miss. Merriweather's Grade One class. Fuck... Holly.

His fingers moved without much direction from his mind as he entered his message. His thumb hovered over the little 'send' arrow for a second as he reread it. Disregarding the consequences, Jason pressed it and waited.

Message to Holly

There was no more sleep to come. He could hear footsteps in the hallway and the buzz of Lila's stair lift. The house was waking up and he had a solid six and a half hours of sleep in him. It'd have to do. Still, there was a problem and all of Mulberry needed to get ahead of it. Kicking off his blankets, Jason mixed throwing on some clothes with working at his phone. What to name you, what to name you...Eh, fuck it. Alliteration. Jason took about three minutes to prepare his welcome message. There were some he didn't like, like that snarky bitch Hailee, but she was still probably marginally more useful alive than as a zombie, though being bit might improve her disposition. He smirked. Lila, Holly, Harper, Kit, Zeke, Liam, Carson, Alena, Harry... ugh, Lee. Fuck it: Davey too. He hit 'send' and bounded down the stairs. He could already smell the bacon and eggs.

Message to Survival Squad

---

---

L I L A S P A R L I N G

_{Location: Kitchen --> Garage, Sparling Home}

Timeframe Morning

---

_{Interaction(s): Jason Sparling}

Previously: Group Playthrough

"Jason, you shitlord!" Lila was holding up a pair of pizza pops still sealed in their plastic wrapper. "You call this food?" She tossed them onto her lap, wary of eating garbage food but warier of wasting good food when this had to go first.

"What?" he blinked and raised an eyebrow, busy going through the cupboards. "I eat it."

"That's like... a reverse endorsement." She rolled up to the microwave, an arm's reach from where he was bent over, searching for something, and flicked him in the side of the head.

"Oww!" Lila, what the fuck?"

"Did you maybe stop to think that this was freezer food?"

"Yeah... so?"

"And the electricity could go out anytime now?"

"Did you maybe stop to think most of the good stuff was gone before I risked my neck to get there?" He shrugged defensively. "...Was better than nothing."

Lila glanced down at the processed food in her lap, suddenly feeling like... a not-good person. She sighed.

"Why you so on edge?" her brother prodded, and her response came in the form of a snort. He let out his own and smiled faintly. "Yeah, yeah. Besides the obvious."

"You're telling me that huge random whatever-it-was noise last night didn't get to you?" Absently, she opened the wrapper and slid the pops into the microwave.

He came up with some bags of pasta and twisted her way, shrugging. "It was fuckin' zombies, Squeaks. That's a reality now."

Lila had not seen a single one, to be honest, and there were fleeting, semi-lucid moments as she lay half-awake in bed, or sat in the shower or staring at her computer screen when it almost occurred to her that this was all some sort of giant sick joke for a reality TV series, but then she quickly dismissed the thought. If anybody was going to be pranked on national TV, they wouldn't pick the girl in the wheelchair. They wouldn't dare kick the pity object while she was down, or besmirch the inspirational. Truth be told, she hadn't seen a zombie because she hadn't left the property, and hadn't even been outside alone. It was all still a nightmare, but one that went on and on and that she found herself just kind of sinking into as an unwanted reality. It was all gone: New York, her position in the orchestra, her YouTube channel, her friends: Judith, Liv, Carter, and Nitesh... She realized that she was drifting. "Ugh yeah. Sorry." She shook her head to clear it and punched some numbers into the microwave to start it up.

Lila made her way to one of the lower cabinets, bending over at the waist and pulling a couple of things out. "If you're gonna go bring Holly food, at least not the fettucine. You know it's dad's favourite."

She tossed him some penne instead and he juggled the bag for a second. Lila rolled up to him and held out her hands expectantly. "Wait... what are you talking about?"

"Already forgot you added me to the group?"

He stood there sheepishly. "Oh yeah, that."

Lila rolled her eyes. "Stay safe, Chop-Chop. Okay?" Just then, the microwave let out its four satisfying beeps and her pizza pops were done.

---

---

"Now I've gotcha!" Lila crowed out loud. She was in the garage, sitting on a cushion on the ground, Great Gran's old generator, vintage 1975, before her. She pulled the ripcord with everything she had, nearly falling backwards in the process. At first, she'd been convinced that she just didn't have the strength or balance to do it, but she'd commandeered Jason yesterday evening and the result had been the same: it roared and then sputtered, roared, and then sputtered, roared once more, and then lost its idle. Again, it repeated this routine and she was now confident in her diagnosis: the carburetor was gummed up. After Great Gramps' passing, the generator had sat there for years with gas in its tank and lines. That had gone bad, turned into a resin, and choked the fuel supply to the engine. It over-revved trying to get more, choked when that wasn't coming, tried to rev high again, but then failed and died.

There was nobody here to witness Lila's victory, but it still felt good. The struggle to be useful was always a real one for her and this was a tick on the positive side of the ledger. She'd have to achieve with her mind and her hands what she couldn't do with her body. Reaching for her notepad, she scribbled 'carburetor' into it under her list of 'high priority supplies'. It was only a temporary fix, of course, and gas stations would probably be dangerous, but it would see them through the transition to something more sustainable and at least Jason and Winnie were enthusiastic about getting gas. Herself? Less so.

Done with the journal, Lila set it aside, shrugged into her sweater, and took a moment to adjust her position and pull her knees to her chest. Deep breath. Hand on seat. Her muscles strained and she heaved herself back up into her wheelchair with all the grace of some lobe-finned fish hauling itself onto land from the primordial muck. One after the other, she settled her legs in position, adjusted her feet, and released her brakes. It took her about four minutes to zip-tie the pitchfork onto her seat, and it changed the chair's entire center of mass, but she at least needed to feel as if she had a fighting chance should - That's right. Fuck. It's literal zombies. - appear. Jason would need all the help he could get and... likely more for his idea to succeed, but it was the right step, in theory, and it would be safe enough if she traveled with her siblings. Lila was about to exit the garage when she realized that she couldn't actually reach the switch with this favoured weapon of the medieval peasant affixed to her wheelchair. She pulled out her phone and prepared to eat crow.

Message to Jason