the killing days ( open & accepting )

[`kosmic]

( ♛ ) // ＡＬＡＳＫＡ ＢＲＩＳＢＡＮＥ！！
─────────────────────────── ( ＹＯＵ ＷＡＮＴ Ａ ＰＩＥＣＥ ＯＦ ＭＥ？ )
xxxxx[ female & 28 ] • [ loc. woods next to whittemore ] • [ tags. coby ]

alaska held her breath as she awaited a response, but it almost seemed as if it wasn't coming. she had thought that it would be rude to walk away, but she was beginning to think that coby was doing a pretty good job at ignoring her already. should've just walked away, alaska. but no, you wanna make friends with everybody. newsflash - not everybody wants to be your friend. or at least that's what it looked like. sometimes she wondered why she bothered being nice at all. like, we get it, the apocalypse kind of ruined everybody's life; but seriously? does it hurt to show some kind of kindness once in a while? of course, alaska kept all this to herself. lately, she's been pretty good about holding her tongue in order to avoid any altercations.

almost her entire life alaska had been known for telling people off and not holding back. throughout her high school life she had a history of getting into fights and calling teachers out. it would explain the amounts of times she was arrested and sent to the principles office, but those were dark times. she left high school and became a better version of herself; no more fights, no more drama. but that didn't stop her police record from following her to college and even future jobs. nobody cared to listen to the poor girl who had a bad childhood but was trying to dig herself out of that hole. eventually, by some miracle, a college accepted her. so did some jobs; including the one where her career took off. but than of course the apocalypse had to ruined that part.

she stared at coby, knitting her brows in both confusion and frustration. when their eyes did meet, she held his stare. finally, his found his voice. but to her surprise, he didn't acknowledge her greeting nor her question. he acted as if she hadn't said a single word to him; did he not hear her? oh no, he definitely heard her. he just wanted to be a prick. she held back a growl from her throat, steadying her stance.

she almost laughed out loud at what he did say, though. but held that part back as well. "are you?" she questioned, stopping herself from being rude. who the hell did he think he was, anyways? she scoffed instead, "I know you aren't criticizing my aim right now," she finally finished, narrowing her blue eyes to glare at him. she didn't even care about the part where he was trying to help her, probably attempting to have good intentions. but that flew right over her head after he started poking at her hunting skills. "thank you, but I don't think I need your opinion on the way I hunt," she added on with a huff of her breath.

god, seriously, why did she even bother with him? it ended the same way every single time. she placed her free hand on her hip, popping it out slightly as she began to lean on that side. her black hair flowed in the light wind, falling across her shoulders. "plus, since when are you mr. expert at hunting, hm? or rather, a expert on aiming?" she prodded, not tearing her sharp blue eyes away from him. with that, she bit her tongue to keep her from saying something she might regret later. she might not be scared of him, but that didn't mean she should go around and call him names. she was still trying to keep a friendly persona at this place.

[paria.]

xx,,( C A E L A NxxR A I T T S ! ! )

x,{ ➶ age; twenty four } - { ➴ gender; male } - { ➶ role; survivor } - { ➴ location; whittemore farm } - { ➶ tags; sasha }━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

denit happened on a thursday. the sun was shining and a gentle breeze relieved some of the heat from the residents of texas. people had been driving to work, dropping their kids off at school, or saving a life in the o.r. that morning. it started slowly. people began to show aggression for no reason and would try to bite other people. they thought it was some kind of flu and dismissed it. then more and more people started showing symptoms, it was worldwide. the news was flooded with attacks and reports of people being eaten by those affected. the whole world panicked, which did nothing but help the affected thin out the population. the military got involved and began to kill any affected on sight, due to them not comprehending reason. it was every man for them self as the affected gained more numbers. despite being slow moving and undead, they were dangerous to any person unaffected by the sickness. eventually, the survivors figured out that the sickness was transmitted by bites, scratches, and blood-on-blood contact in the blood stream. no one was prepared for the chaos they created. the survivors began to loot stores and houses, taking whatever they needed to survive. many resorted to hunting. the animal population died down significantly since the undead ate them too. survivors chose to live in groups or venture alone. they also chose to be nomadic or to settle down someplace safe. that was the thing, no where was truly safe. the undead wouldn't stop unless you destroyed their brain. that was why most of them survived fires and explosions. they won't stop until their brain can't send any signals to the rest of their body, despite being a rotting corpse.

denmany survivors stocked up on the essentials and headed north, thinking the cold weather would help ward off the dead. there was a rumored safe haven in the north, but it was all superstition and hope. other, more realistic survivors, began battening down the hatches and making their own safe haven. the lack of fresh water was an issue for most. few farms had wells that supplied fresh water. gas was also an issue to those who couldn't siphon it from abandoned cars or trucks. there was no suprise when people started to grow and harvest their own food. it was better than constantly wondering when your next meal would be. some even began to breed animals to produce a steady source of meat. there were a few groups who bred and kept horses. it was a good idea not to have to always rely on your two legs or a car to go places. car maintenance wasn't exactly something that everyone knew how to do. those people stick to walking or they travel with a person who does know how to fix up a car. fixing up a car was one thing, but driving it another story. all the highways were blocked with abandoned vehicles and walkers. you'd have to take the long way around with backroads and such. driving a car also draws attention, so most stick to walking when they have to make a supply run. stealth was a survivor's best friend since the end of days.

denevery survivor had a story about how the end began. some had been awoken from he screaming outside or was in town when a walker attacked them. for caelan, he was in a suburban neighborhood working on one of the new houses. only the frame of the house was finished, so he and the boys hit it early that morning. the nineteen year old wanted to prove that he was a worker worth keeping despite his young age. caelan knew something was really wrong when his boss showed up all sweaty and pale. they had wanted to take him to the hospital because he said he was attacked in the streets and someone bit him. little did they know, he'd turn within hours. they tried to help him, but he eventually died. the thing was, he didn't stay dead. he sat up and attacked the nearest person. caelan managed to dodge his boss and kill him with a wrench. he left his co-workers and drove home on the backroads since traffic was blocking off the streets. he immediately called his uncle and told him what happened. his uncle told him to book it to the farm as fast as possible. they lived in san antonio, texa, but the farm was almost sixty miles out of the city. caelan managed to grab some supplies from town before driving to the secluded farm.

denthat was over six years ago, but it seemed like an eternity to caelan. nothing in his life was predictable except for the constant, never ending, threat of walkers and other survivors. although, he had found a nice farm with pretty good people mike outside the city. he came across the farm about a week before and was offered a place there if he pulled his weight. caelan was finally able to sleep easy without fearing a walker taking a chunk out of him while he slept. he was even happier because his stallion, rodan, had a safe place to graze. the farm was more than he could ever ask for.

denthe day had just begun and caelan had already gotten so much done. he had fed rodan and kicked out his stable. he went out on a quick supply run, scavenging some neighborhoods. the run went well and he was on the way back to the farm as the sun was making its way into the sky. caelan decided to go see sasha instead of heading straight to the farm, sinc eit has been awhile since he had spoken to the man. he pulled into the path to his cabin and got out of the jeep. he grabbed a backpack and poe leaped out of the back and barked, almost announcing their presence to sasha. caelan pat poe’s side and walked up to the cabin. ”mate! open up the bloody door or else i might just get picked off out here,” he said as he knocked on the door lightly.

word count: 1,034

[moonkin]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 ✯
xxfourty-two. whittemore. tags. rachael

Once his carbine was loaded, it didn’t take long for Shane to set off on foot on patrol, starting at the side of the field where he stood and making his way around. He’d caught sight of Coby in the distance, a few pieces of wood he presumed tucked under his arm, with some dark haired woman he couldn’t recognize from this far away. They weren’t interrupted by him in whatever conversation Coby decided to tolerate and if he was being bothered, Coby knew how to tell people to shove it better than anyone Shane knew. Besides himself, maybe. His gaze averted and focused on what he’d assigned for himself; It would’ve been done earlier, way earlier in the morning by him if the day hadn’t started a couple hours late for him. Not like he was complaining since it was still something to do rather than sitting inside that damned house all day.

His brown eyes scanned the tree line underneath the bill of his ball cap while the rifle was held low against his torso, one finger always ready on the guard. The only sounds coming from around were the occasional bird and his own footsteps. Winter was relatively quiet and the only part Shane actually liked about it. The rest was looked over and ignored, especially the thought of Christmas. He’d walked himself into those thoughts now from earlier when he’d joked. It seemed like everything reminded him of something else. How pathetic. Shane scoffed at himself and turned his head to look into the woodland, stepping a foot inside and continuing his path from there.

It only took fifteen minutes into his walk to already have something thrown his way- as predicted. A sight of something having difficulty walking going toward the farm. Walkers weren’t rare around the perimeter, but was closer to the farm thanks to him and the others who constantly stayed alert. Shane adjusted his hold on his rifle, eyes squinting to clear the image of the thing hunkering down in the distance. It was a no-brainer to start heading that way- this wasn’t any walker, not with how smooth it moved. This thing knew exactly what it was doing. His footsteps were heavy among the thin layer of snow as he sped up his pace, the ground crunching underneath the black soles. "Hey!" Shane called out, seconds away to going about his usual stand-offish demeanor, his rifle mid-way to position until he caught the familiar red blotches of blood on clothing. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d approached a familiar scene. His rifle was secured in it’s safety when he got close enough for them to be in the view of each other. The gun strap slipped over his head and thrown around to rest against his back as the strap laid diagonal across his torso. He stepped forward, hands low and digits outstretched in caution so they- she -would see he meant no harm. For now. "I can help you," He attempted to reassure, eyes flicking to the area of the wound then to make eye contact with her. Shane took another slow step before pausing, taking this time to take the stranger's appearance in from the few feet between them. She definitely was not around his age, maybe a decade or half younger than him; already guessing she was the type who would naturally annoy him but for now, he shoved that aside to offer his hand- so to speak. It was very unlikely to be greeted as such by Shane, especially those who were here in the beginning of his time knew that, but he wasn't going to beat up on a girl who randomly shown up bleeding from her abdomen. You had to treat these situations with caution, carefully, and assess every single way it would go within seconds. Perhaps later he could try to get answers out of her but for now, Shane wore an expression that hopefully came across genuine and didn't show that this kindness could change like a switch; that he hadn't already went over a plan in his head if she decided to lash out at him; that hopefully didn't show that his fingers always stood by and ready to swing his carbine rifle around to teeter on the edge of putting a bullet in her or not. He wouldn’t consider himself having a trigger finger at all but then again, when consistently handling a gun and deciding in mere seconds whether or not the bullet was worth triggering toward the target had been his first reaction for almost twenty-three years, it was hard to break away from it. “If you'll let me.” Shane added in a steady but borderline kind tone, finally coming to a stop and lowering his hands slowly to his sides but keeping them in view so this stranger didn’t think he was pulling any tricks out of his sleeve. Not in her view anyway. Shane hoped that she’d at least be reasonable with him, preferably let him do what he done best because he didn’t feel like ruining his mood for the rest of the day on a kid that didn’t know how to handle hospitality.

[kopus]

𝐂𝐎𝐁𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑hilocation. inside, house tags. alaska

It was almost hard to believe that she was being serious. Trying to what, challenge him, in one weird hell of a way? A conversation from six years back coursed through him like a freight train off the track as he stood there, eyes looking down on the girl with black hair. A month into his parole, a familiar face had crossed him for the first time since the year of '96. Over lunch at a diner, the two had talked about this and that, most of which he was brief or quiet on altogether when it came to him and questions about where he'd been off to since graduation -or, more specifically, where'd he'd been the day of graduation. When those answers hadn't been given -causally pushed aside as easily as he'd pushed his food around with his fork- the woman he'd sat with took note to his avoidance and went on to share her most vivid memories of him from when he'd still been a boy, yet already had the maturity of a man. She'd talked about the countless times she'd stood back, watching him from afar at the school bus stop while all the boys fought with one another, and no matter who tried to start something with him, he'd just stand there and watch. He'd known better than to punch some punk kid with too big of an ego, the end result being him sent to juvie for hitting a few too many times and keeping the little twerp down for good. But for what? Just to prove his point that he could feed their asses to them if given five seconds? It hadn't been worth it, but then again he'd ended up behind bars after all, hadn't he? This situation was much different though. Alaska was different. And still, the confrontation was similar enough that it brought the memory back on him, even if she wasn't pushing him in the chest, spitting the foul rumors of his mother or why his daddy had been locked up to his face. Coby's scarred brow rose half way, partially in amusement. "Cute, but don't flatter yourself. I've been out in these woods since you were still home suckin' tit. If you don't want my advice, fine by me."

Lips were drawn in and pressed to a grim line, so that the facial hair above and below his mouth came together a moment. His features relaxed then, and Coby let go of a sigh that clouded before his face. One last look of amusement to the brunette standing with all that attitude in her stance, he circled back around. Unless she pulled that piece of crap weapon of hers and put a target on his back -in which he wouldn't hesitate to lay her flat on her ass- he didn't have the time or energy to further engage himself in conversation with her or anyone else for that matter. Once he'd turned and walked away, this last haul of wood was brought to the front door rather than stacked to make a higher pile. Coby stomped the snow from the tread in his boots before taking foot inside the warmth of the Whittemore home, the inside carrying the welcoming scent of wood smoke. Taken notice that no one was inside either the kitchen or living room, he made a point to carry himself easier toward the wood stove in the corner that kept the house heated. Squatted to its level, he pulled his gloves away from the fingers along with his hat and wedged them under his arm after he'd released the wood. The hatch was pulled up and the creaky steel door opened, allowing him to throw the wood on the dying fire. Sparks floated into the air, but he'd shut the door back before they had the chance to escape into the house. Back to his feet, Coby turned in time to watch the front door open and close. His eyes fell on Myka as she came into the room, shoulders shrugging off a coat that obviously didn't belong to her. Shane's, most likely. He didn't mention it. Coby passed the woman to the door and stepped out, not finding his place within the comforts of the Whittemore home.

𝐌𝐘𝐊𝐀 𝐉𝐀𝐄hilocation. whittemore house, bedroom tags. open (mentions shane, coby)

Once she'd bundled herself in Shane's coat, the heavy article of clothing zipped to the collar and her soon to be chilled fingers buried into the lined pockets, Myka had followed Shane out to garage. As he'd signaled, she waited patiently before climbing into the cab of the truck, having to give the passenger side good a good slam so it'd fully shut. Soon enough he'd gotten back out, but after doing a what appeared to be a quick run through of gear, he was back by her side with one comforting hand placed to her knee and the four wheels beneath them rolling down the deserted road ahead. It was quite uncommon for her, but before they'd made it halfway through their trip to the Whittemore's, Myka was struck with nausea. Car sickness, and likely from only having two spoonfuls of black coffee in her for breakfast. Her own fault, she figured, and hadn't brought it up. Thankfully, it'd been kind enough to pass soon after with no other issues.

The familiar gravel drive came into view within an hour, and something about seeing the house and snowy field was calming. Nothing seemed wrong or out of the ordinary; for once, at least. Beside her, Shane pulled the chewed up toothpick from his lips and popped a quick kiss on her lips before he exited the vehicle. She didn't wait around any longer herself. Door unlocked, she pushed it open and dropped down from the Dodge, then bumped it back shut with her hip. Shane already departed to the edge of the yard, Myka headed straight for the front porch, feet skipping up the steps two at a time.The screen door was brought open, and she entered the house, but barely managed to get Shane's coat off before her hands slowed to a pause in surprise of the man standing across the room.

In the short time she'd been away with Shane in the city, there had been some obvious changes back here at the farm. Coby's hair, though she couldn't help but admit it suited him better than before, was short. There was no bun at the back of his head, or greasy locks strung past his shoulders. No, this was what someone would've expected to see on the man. A smile crossed her face as he passed by her, not giving Myka the chance to comment on it, and she realized it must've been intentional. She sighed and draped the coat over the back of one of the kitchen chairs before she started up the stairs in search of one of the other women who might've been responsible for his new looks. "Celesta? Luna?" Myka called, voice suddenly lowering when she considered they might not all be awake. She opened the bedroom door, and quietly entered. "Alaska?"

[thingie]

ＲＡＣＨＡＥＬ ＣＡＳＴＥＬＬＡＮＯ ！！

[ age twenty-four y/o ★ location woods near the whittemore farm ★ tags shane ]


indentrachael's head snapped over to the faint sound of armored feet clomping down on the dry ground, but she couldn't tell where it was coming from. she blinked her sand-paper lids, almost adjusting herself into a more crawled position as she slithered backward, her spine faintly smacking what felt like a tree stump behind her. she wasn't afraid; even in the state she was in she would still be able to kill any walker as long as she had her knife ready in her hand, similar to now. her breath hitched, as a husky voice broke through the air; "hey!"

indentshe held her trusty knife close, its sharp blade having glinted back at her if her eyes weren't already occupied on the source of the sound. a middle-aged man seared through the bracken, his hands spread out in front of him as though he were defending himself. she cocked a brow, eyeing the man as he towered over her. rachael lowered her knife, slowly fingering it back into her holster while she kept a steady eye on the man. "i can help you," he offered.

indentrachael followed the man's gaze as they both fell onto her wound, blood painting the path of her dark flannel like an open easel. looking at it again made her grimace, her thoughts finally recollecting; the city grounds.

indentshe found a truck idly waiting in an abandoned parking lot with shards of glass barely holding on to the window pane. (from bullet shots, no doubt) she was 'smart' enough to jump into said truck with no regard to the extra pieces of glass hanging from the window. at the time, the only thing on rachael's mind was to get the hell out of there, needless to say that the city grounds were always thriving with walkers. how could she have been so stupid? of course that truck would've given her at least a cut, let alone a freaking blade to the abdomen.

indentrachael listened to the man's inquiry, watching as his hands gently lowered to his sides. her eyes flitted back up to him, her chin rising and falling in a shaky nod. she made a quick move to rise to her feet, as though proving to the man -- but mostly herself -- that she was capable of walking. it still fazed her that there was even anyone out here in the first place; maybe he was the only one. maybe there were more out there, rachael didn't know. all that she knew was that her wound was throbbing. her jaw rippled beneath her skin, her open palms facing the ground as though she were trying to keep her balance.

indentshe exchanged him a glance, almost glossed with suspicion as she parted her lips to speak. "who are you?" it was an unnecessary question at the given moment, sure, but meeting another human for the first time, in what seemed like ages, made rachael the least bit curious.

[moonkin]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 ✯
xxfourty-two. whittemore. tags. rachael

His eyes followed her as she made her point to stand, a brow raising in reaction. A sigh came from him as he lifted his cap from his head and scratched the dark hairline before replacing the hat, his eyes carrying over to his right where the field laid. "You're not walking like that- not without help. C'mon." He said, his tone dropping soft like he had known her beyond just a couple of minutes, stepping toward the woman and holding out his arm for her to put hers around his shoulders so he could assist her. His hand waving her to come near as his brown gaze settled on her in wait, slightly lowering himself to make it easier for her because of his height. Shane's expression and wording didn't leave any room for argument and the longer this girl would know him, the more she'd realize that. He gave her an expectant but hurry up look. The more she stood and walked to prove to whatever ego she had or the man upstairs that she wasn't weak, the more she bled and Shane wasn't about to let her submit to stupidity on his watch. "We'll do name swaps once you're stitched up." He added, remembering her question from earlier. Maybe it'd make her feel better about the whole situation. He did come out of nowhere like her saving grace but Shane seen it as far from that. Very far. This was just another job to him but felt relieved that it wasn't another Axl or Mae. That she didn't try to make it more difficult than it had to be, that she had opened up toward his help- but anyone profusely bleeding would, he guessed. No, he knew. It had been witnessed too many times; saving people had been done too many times; watching people die under his hand whether in good intentions or bad had been seen too many times.

[azhefa.]

xx
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luna ● 29-years ● whittemore ● single
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location; house
tags; coby, myka
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“ sʜᴏᴏᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ, ʟᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴍᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs ”

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though she has a room of her own that she shares with sora whenever she visits, luna often crashes on the couch downstairs due to staying up late in the work shed out back. she's been working on fixing and rewiring the radios she had found months ago on a supply run. the solar panel cellphone chargers she had found needed some rewiring as well to link them all together into a single panel. since there wasn't a cot or anything in the shed and it was too much of a hassle to climb the stairs, luna chooses to stay down on the couch instead. sleeping on the couch wasn't the most comfortable thing, especially when she has a perfectly good bed upstairs, but it was warmer with the fireplace going. winter was here now and snow was starting to fall so a nice warm fire was better than piles of blankets.

luna wakes in the living room when the sun rises, but is too tired to get up so she just pulls her blanket up higher to block out the light and returns to her slumber. the second time luna wakes is when she hears the front door opening and panda's short growl. she peeks out from under her blanket to see who it was and is relieved to see that it was only coby. the man had gotten his hair cut it seems and it was the change of appearance that confused the canine laying beside the couch. "nu e voie, panda," she tells the dog softly, her voice hushed from sleep, but still loud enough for the dog to hear. panda's ear twists towards luna and she hesitates for a moment before huffing and laying her head back down without another sound. it was great to see the dog responding to the romanian commands she's been working on with her, especially the 'leave it' command like she had just said.

just as she was about to go back to sleep, the door opens yet again, making panda lift her head once more and issue yet another soft growl. this time it was myka that enters the house, a familiar face so panda quiets on her own this time and lays back down without the need for a command. luna sighs to herself as coby left the house and myka called out for both her and celesta. looks like she's not going back to sleep now. "over here, myka," she calls out to the older woman while pushing herself into a sitting position. luna rubs the sleep from her eyes as she yawns and then stretches her arms above her head before climbing to her feet, careful not to step on the 100 pound canine laying on the ground in front of the couch. "no idea where celesta is, but i'm over here in the living room." panda lifts her head curiously as luna gets up and waits a moment before getting up as well, stretching her legs out with a yawn then shaking out her fluffy coat.

xx
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sora ● 29-years ● loner [whittemore] ● single
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location; outside > barn
tags; coby
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“ ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ ᴅʀᴇssᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴀ ᴅᴀʏᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ”

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sleeping inside the farm house was a very odd feeling since she never felt like she belonged within the group that lives there. sora wasn't as friendly and open as her twin so it was a struggle to make the same kind of connections that luna does. people always fall in love with her sweetheart of a twin even if it was only in a friendly manner, but no one ever seems to feel the same way with her. sora was a coarse, bitter woman who'd rather be off cleaning her pistols or sharpening her throwing blades then dealing with people. she left the farm for a reason when she and luna found it, she wasn't meant to be in a group. she didn't even stay at home when her family moved to texas, why would she stay with a group of strangers. sora only returned to the farm after her departure because she got hurt, if she had been able to deal with the broken ankle herself she wouldn't have returned, but she couldn't hunt while having such an injury. it was a bit of a blow to her pride to return, but it was better than starving.

now-a-days, sora is healed and has since left the farm again, but has promised luna to return a few times a month to check in. she wasn't thrilled with having to keep such a promise, but it was better than having luna rant and pester her for the months she had to stay at the farm to heal. it was rough for her to just lay around most of the time when she was healing, unable to walk or ride on a broken ankle. luckily, she was able to mostly lay around the horse barn instead of the farm house so she didn't have to deal with the people who live on the farm as much. whenever she visits, sora often sleeps in luna's room, but since luna has recently gotten into the habit of crashing on the couch, sora doesn't bother staying in the room alone. what's the point in sleeping alone inside a house she hates when she can snuggle up to her horse, joe, in the barn. sleeping in a stall was as awkward as it seems and not very comfortable, but at least she's not surrounded by people she doesn't trust.

sora wakes in the stall as she has for the past few times she's visited and has to spend a few minutes picking pieces of straw from her hair and clothes before she can get joe his breakfast. the stallion was eager as ever to eat and immediately shoves his nose into the bucket as soon as she puts it in his stall and starts to chop down the feed. sora only rolls her eyes at the stallion before grabbing the thigh holster for her throwing blades and leaving the barn. she pauses as she steps out and closes the wide door behind her, looking around at the snow that was dusted everywhere. the sight makes her glare down at the snow beneath her boots, stupid white slush always ruining things. she had broken her ankle during winter all those years ago after slipping on some ice near the little shack she had made into a make-shift home. sora mutters to herself in romanian as she makes her way over to the other barn on the property, there's no way she's going to stand around out in the snow to train with her blades. once inside the storage barn, sora goes about moving a few square bales of hay to build up a target then wedging a flat piece of wood into place for the target. once it was all in place, the brunette goes to the other side of the barn and proceeds to throw her blades at the wood as hard as she could. as with each 'training' session, sora goes into a zone of anger which helps fuel her to throw the blades as hard as she could.

[azhefa.]

xx
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sasha ● 31-years ● loner [whittemore] ● single
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location; his home, near whittemore
tags; caelan
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“ ᴍᴇɴ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ғᴇᴀʀ swᴏʀᴅs, ᴛʜᴇy ғᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ”

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as with every day, sasha was up at dawn and goes about his morning meditations as the sun rises over the tree tops. it was such a calming time, the only sound being that of the birds singing and his old home creaking in the wind. sasha sits on the flat portion of the roof as he meditates until he feels the warmth of the sun touch his face. it was quite cold since winter has rolled around and left some snow dusted everywhere. sitting out in the cold was difficult at first, but was easy to ignore after he settles into his thoughts. once the sun comes up over the treetops, sasha gets up and starts his morning tai chi exercises. though the world has gone to hell, he still keeps up his morning rituals, it helps him feel almost normal again until he has to go check his perimeters and kill some zombies.

with the sun now higher in the sky, sasha finishes his morning routines and heads down to the first story of the old house. there wasn't any furniture in the bottom level, only lots and lots of hay and a large tub of water. since there wasn't any fences to keep zombies out, he has to keep his two horses inside the house. it was an odd set-up, but it works to keep his treasured pets safe. sasha scoops out some breakfast for the two horses before digging around for something to eat himself. it was lucky that the whittemore farm was stocked with feed otherwise it would be very difficult to keep his two equines alive. jinx was glad to see the man and calmly eats her breakfast while missy focuses solely on the food as always. since he's pretty topped up on food from last week's trip to the farm and still has several gallon jugs of water left from his trip to the creek near his house, sasha doesn't feel the need to go hunt or lug more water back home so he simply goes on his usual perimeter scouting for stray zombies wandering around. luckily there were only a few within a hundred yards or so of the house this time, there had been almost a dozen last week so it was a welcome change.

as he returns to his home, sasha takes a moment to pick up a rabbit that had been caught in one of the traps he had set the night before. he didn't need the meat yet, but it would be a a good thing to trade over at the farm. though he went to the farm last week and doesn't actually need to return for a few more days, sasha starts to talk himself into going today instead of waiting. the sound of a car as well as the barking of a dog alerts him to someone's arrival. sasha jogs up the back steps of the home and hangs the rabbit up in the kitchen area before walking towards the front door. he hears caelan's voice before he gets to the door and is already chuckling softly to himself as he pulls the old panel of wood open. "funny seeing you here, cae, i was just thinking of heading out to the farm," he says while stepping away from the open door to let the younger man inside. jinx and missy glance up from their hay briefly before returning to their content munching. sasha walks back to the kitchen area to get to work on the rabbit he had caught. "to what do i owe the pleasure of your visit, cae?" he asks, glancing over to the other man with a grin while sharpening a knife. "must be something special since i'm due to head over in only a few days." he turns away as he finishes speaking to start gutting the rabbit, not wanting the insides to start spoiling the meat.

[kopus]

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andrew "andy" willis - 15 - faceclaim: jack dylan grazer
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---
regarded as a fragile individual who's a hypochondriac, scared of t
he world and avoiding most situations in fear of getting sick or inju
red, andy's more often than not pushed to the side. always has been,
even in school with his friends. picked last and picked on. after his f
ather walked out, andy's mother became overprotective of him --to
the extreme. not allowing him to do other things many other children
did in order to keep his "safe". in reality, she was scared of losing hi
m, resulting in his crappy childhood. things went to extreme where s
convinced him of many illnesses, including severe asthma, which andy
continues using an inhaler for today. he's a hyper kid, overreactive w
ith the tendency to spazz. intelligent and highly educated, he may tre
at you like you're stupid if you end up doing something.. well, stupid.

─── five foot three - heterosexual/romantic - los angeles, ca ───

[kopus]

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