[private] it sure looks safe in here amirite

[sataraxias]

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
[x]malachai? malacri
[x]its been about two weeks or so
[x]since all hell broke loose, a vir
[x]us thrusting the world into a st
[x]ate of chaos & flesh eating und
[x]dead. the world has fallen & th
[x]e survivors left behind have to
[x]learn to pick themselves back up.
[x]don't post unless:
[x]@sataraxias @bailey.t134
[x]@dxisyy @baddad @aj
[x] garden of ev[il], relic & co

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[sataraxias]

██
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ＫＡＴＩＥ ＭＡＲＶＥＬ
❛❛-stars that sound so charming, dramatic, its

───────( ＳＯ ＴＲＵＥ )───────────
originally from alabama, she was travelling with her
boyfriend and his brothers when the outbreak happ
ened. she got separated & the others are presumed
to be dead. except marcus. he's definitely dead.rip.
──（we're made up of 1000 scars, so...）

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❛❛ ── ＧＯ ＆ ＣＲＹ ＹＯＵＲ ＨＥＡＲＴ ＯＵＴ, ＩＴＳ ＷＨＡＴ
ＩＴ ＳＡＹＳ ＴＯ ＤＯ.（ FEEL IT ALL OVER ！FEEL IT ALL OVER）

chin up, smile, keep marching on - that's the mantra which defines katie marvel.
arguably. in recent days she's been doing less smiling and more just marching on,
but she's trying her best. to call her a girl with stars in her eyes might not be too
far off the mark, but it does imply those same stars are blinding her. while she ca
n be naive & at times undeniably selfish, she's one determined young lady who do
esn't appreciate being sidelined. she's a survivor... balancing ghosts of yesterday's
world with hope for what the future brings.

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┏────────────────────────────┓
xxⅠ, katie marvel Ⅱ, female Ⅲ, twenty-one yrs
xxⅣ, hetero Ⅴ, 5"5 Ⅵ, crescent moon tattoo
xxon left wrist. Ⅶ, malachai's kitty kat <3
┖────────────────────────────┚

███
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x

ＴＯＭＯＲＲＯＷ＇Ｓ ＧＯＮＥ， ＴＯＮＩＧＨＴ ＩＳ ＯＵＲＳ

[bailey.t136]

faceclaim cody saintgnue

┌─────────────────────┐
❛ malachai haden stick ❜
world in his hands, stars in his eyes, universe in his heart
❛ cisgender male. ❛ heterosexual. ❛ 23 years old. ❛ 6'3". ❛ 220 lbs.
❛ warm brunette hair. ❛ sea green eyes. ❛ volunteer firefighter.
❛ three roses; r collarbone, gemini; r ribcage, dragon; r arm
❛ Safer. ❛ tags --. ❛ mentions --. ❛ crush --.
└─────────────────────┘

❛ LIKES -- spaghetti, pink, polaroids, pressed flowers, pushing himself to the limit, helping people, candy corn, jer, the moon, penny, good music (specifically john mayer)
❛ DISLIKES -- cigarettes, losing, being undermined or challenged, tomatoes, any type of nut, bacardí gold rum, parties, dancing


❛ HES A LEADER ALRIGHT -- when malachai stick walks into the room, he's the type of guy to grin at everyone. it doesnt matter whether theyre his lacrosse boys, his sister and her little posey, or the quiet kid in the back. he's the unlikely jock who actually took the time to get to know each and every single one of them and actually cares about how they're doing. he was the kid who asked about their moms, what they had for breakfast, had they done the homework yet? a brother to the brotherless and friend to the friendless. action was the path he had chosen and it didn't matter the situation. he just couldn't stay on the sidelines. it could be winning a game, standing up for a friend, or running into a burning building. he's the one who would jump into a situation, fully aware he may not make it back out, but fully committed and willing to take the chance.

he's made a few bad choices along the way and they still quietly haunt him. he would never admit it but they keep him up at night and he works ever harder to receive approval - even though he would never see good in himself. his sins. if he could just save another life... maybe his scales would balance.

[sataraxias]

Katie had never been the kind to cry. Tears, in her experience, had always burdened situations that could be easily solved through logic. Chin up, smile, keep on marching – that’d been the motto she’d lived by in times of hardship. Her first heartbreak, her parent’s divorce, the fall-out with her sister, getting fired, the occasional fights with her boyfriend, the beginning of the end of the world. Chin up, smile. She’d smiled and she’d marched on, because otherwise she’d crumble.

She was crumbling now.

She was tired of standing resolute and unwavering as the ground shook beneath her feet and misplaced the life she’d always taken for granted. The city burnt beneath them, had been for days. The screeches of hordes of inhumanity floating upwards through the gaps in the abandoned parking lot’s architecture, filling her ears, preventing silence.

Katie was crumbling, and so she cried. Falling backwards as her legs gave way beneath her, she dragged herself on her hands as tears streamed her face in salty rivers, blurring her vision and stumbling her voice.

“Marcus, please, it’s me, it’s Katie-” she sobbed, her back bumping one of the columns. No response other than a low groan as her words kept spilling out. “Please, Marc, you know me, don’t do this, it’s me, it’s Katie. Please, Marc, you promised! You said we’ll get out!”

Marcus approached her slowly, face contorted into a snarl of hunger so unlike the gentle reassuring smile he’d offered her mere moments earlier as they’d thundered into the empty lot. Without the others behind them. Her anxiety had been written so clearly on her face as she struggled to muster a smile, and he’d pulled her into a hug.

“Rel’s survived this long,” he’d told her, voice a reassuring murmur in her ear. “We’ll find him again. We’ll meet up with all of them and we’ll get out of the city to safety. Promise.”

Marc had never broken a promise.

The infected had come out of nowhere with a screech, and Marcus had leapt away from her to intercept him. She hadn’t seen what’d happened in the ensuring chaos as the two fought – just that Marcus was the victor. But then he’d seized and shook. Now he was coming at her, menacingly towering over her with no heed paid to her words.

“Please, Marcus-” One more squealing, sobbing plea as she pulled her legs to her chest and cowered against the column, her eyes sliding shut as she cringed away. “Please...”

[bailey.t136]

-----──────
------❛ malachai stick ❜
-----──────
paragraph push, mal. push.

paragraphhe had seen it too many times already. this time it was a girl. yesterday it was a child. cries were growing more and more desperate - no, hopeless. their loved ones had turned. they couldn't bring themselves to kill them, and then two seconds later they were lost too. how the world had changed overnight and how he wished one day they would just wake up and go back to that place that he could hardly even remember.

paragraph"please marcus- please..." he had been right. his heavy, dark combat boots pounded at the stairway as he forced himself to take them by threes. she wasn't fighting back.

paragraphmalachai stick finally hit the top step of the second floor and grabbed the hand railing to direct his momentum around the corner. where was the girl? hardly a second later and a weak sob ebbed up from his right. there she was.

paragraphcowering against one of the cement pillars, a young woman was sobbing, pleading with the creature to recognize her - to say it was just a dream and to come back to life. he pulled in a deep breath and broke into a determined sprint. it had to be done or she wasn't going to make it. survival had raised its taxes and become a greedy thief overnight. this was how it worked now and he doubted she could ever pay this type of rent.

paragraphhis dominant hand reached over his right shoulder and retrieved the only thing that had been constant since the fall of their city. a solid hickory handle, crowned by an unpenetrable steel blade. his axe. it was a fireman's tool... the profession of yesterday and survival skillset of today.

paragraphit felt good in his hands. firm and reliable - balanced. he dug his soles into the pavement.

paragraph their eyes didn't meet as he closed in. he couldn't look at her. not before he did what needed to be done. a nervous tick some might have said. for him, it was decency.

paragraphhe was 20 feet away.

paragraph10.

paragraph2.

paragraphmalachai swung with everything he had. contact of blade and throat sent the creature's head careening off its body and down the ramp several dozen feet. his boot collided with its shoulder. the force between the two caused the falling carcass to miss the girl by a couple inches and he dropped to her side as quickly as he could.

paragraphhuffing breaths escaped his lips as he cupped one of her cheeks in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze, "dont... dont look." his calloused fingers worked into hers and he stood, tugging her weak form up with him. "we have to move."

[sataraxias]

The pain that she expected never came to pass, just the dull thud of a heavy body falling, and a gentle hand on her cheek as teary green eyes flashed open to meet the gaze of a stranger. His fingers found her own and she latched on to the contact, letting the man pull her up on to shaky legs with no resistance.

"Don’t look." Solid advice. Advice she knew that she should follow - remember him as she’d always known him. Kind, cheerful. Not as he was now, cold and lifeless on concrete floor. She couldn’t. She gulped in a breath, her voice still shaky but her words resolute as she lifted her free hand to push the light touch off her wet cheeks. “I have to look. I...”‌

She didn’t know how to justify it, the feeling of wrongness that rose within her at the idea she simply leave him behind without a glance. A wordless feeling she couldn't begin to express. She turned her head to take in the body, biting down on her tongue hard to contain the sob and the bile welling up within her. She swallowed the vomit before it came out, gaze fixated even as she wished she could look away.

Promises mean nothing anymore.

Katie wasn't just biting down on her sadness anymore, but anger too. Anger at herself for being so helpless she'd forced him into a position that led him to lose his life for her. Anger at him, for turning and leaving her behind. Anger at the stranger, for simply being there to clean up the mess of a pathetic, crying girl. She sniffed, wiping the tears that clung still to her cheeks, her lashes. Marcus had died beside her. The others were who-knows-where. Lost in a city turned hellish wonderland. She missed them.

They would be dead, too. They would die if they came back for her, if they weren't dead already. They weren't going to come back for her.
A startling drop in her stomach at a cold realisation. She loved Rel, but Marc had been the strongest brother out of the four.

She dropped the stranger's hand and stepped towards where Marc lay, crouching beside him to hold his limp hand in her own and tracing circles with her palm. "I'm sorry," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut to catch the tears welling once again in her eyes. No more tears, Kates.

"I'm sorry," she repeated as she lifted herself up to look at the man. She couldn't manage the words to form a thank you, so she offered an apology in its place as she spurred herself into movement, moving to stand by him again.

[bailey.t136]

-----──────
------❛ malachai stick ❜
-----──────
paragraph she looked back anyways. he could see the heartbreak swelling near immediately. the choice had been either foolishness or bravery... that was a question he still pondered with every victim who turned back to face their ultimate calamity.

paragraphbut then she left him- left his hand to kneel beside the body. her silence was cut by a difficult "i'm sorry." it was a pained breath, but mal decided it was indeed courage that had taken hold of her. no fool could suppress a guilt that strong and hold it so close. she was making peace with her enemy and it wasn’t the headless body slumped on the cold cement. it was the shame, the feeling that she was the one who had put him there.

paragraphno one was ever expected to just be okay after such a traumatic experience but the young woman rose moments later- shakily, but she rose.

paragraphshe moved back to mal with a quiet apology and he nodded, not willing to fight her sentimental words. he had learned to let people grieve in their own way - even before the world had gone to ish. when house fires had taken loved ones, when a child had fallen down a well, when a daughter had drowned in a pool. a grandfather. a brother. a mother. each had grieved. each had their own way.

paragraphtheir eyes met and a tender, understanding smile tugged up slightly the corners of his lips. she was hurting so much- pushed nearly over her edge, but he could see the hidden strength behind her heartache. every bit of it was being summoned in this very moment.

paragraph“can you walk?” he whispered quietly, genuine concern playing in his eyes as he leaned back on his heels to match her height and gaze. if she couldn't, he wouldn't hesitate to carry her down to the safety of his van. she’d be lighter than half of the others he had already been required to pull to safety, but she had fallen into a quiet that had never ceased to unsettle him. she was a ghost, just a shell now - and she had a right to be.

paragraph he tugged his axe from its place on his back and pivoted as he knelt, "c'mon. lets get you somewhere safer..."

paragraphhe didn't wait for her to hesitate- they had already been in the lot for too long, and so once her arms were clutched tightly around his collarbones, he hoisted her up on his back and moved back to the stairwell. as he had expected, her petite body made maneuvering back down the flight much more effortless, and in no time, they were back in the mid-morning glow. he brought his cheek back toward his shoulder, whispering to her in the hopes of easing any nerves, "...almost there."

paragraphan old, black honda odyssey sat idle at the curb and he gently lowered her to the pavement once they reached it. he slipped his tool back into its sling and popped the passenger door open. his hand naturally found her elbow as he made sure she was situated before jogging around the headlights to slip in. should he say anything else? his sea green eyes briefly glanced over at her and he decided against it. she was in shock. she would talk when she needed to.

[sataraxias]

She stared at the stranger, her mind vaguely picking up that he was speaking, watching his mouth turn out the words but not registering their meaning. He crouched in front of her and she steppd forward silently, to hug her hands around his neck and let him carry her down with no objections.

She lifted her face skyward to catch the morning’s gentle rays, blinking. How could the sun be shining so brightly on a day so filled with doom? She dropped from his back, her sneakers thudding dully against the pavement. An open door in front of her and she was slipping obediently on to the empty seat, hands fumbling instinctively for the seat belt to clip it into place before she softly shut the door.

She’d tried to tell herself there would be no more tears. Tears were pointless, but her eyes were overflowing again, the flood slipping down her cheeks as she shook silently. She buried her face in her hands, the gentle tug of the seat belt against her neck supporting shoulders weighed and burdened by the sharp shards of a painful world that felt like it had exploded in her face.

Like a familiar body as it thudded down to ground,
She
was
falling-

...Abruptly back down to earth as she became aware of the hum of the engine and the motion of the car, her head shooting upwards as watery eyes widened. What the hell was she doing in a stranger's car? The friend she'd known for years, the one she'd loved and trusted had forsaken her. Why should she trust a stranger with no clue who she was?

He'd saved her life, but in doing that... He'd killed Marcus. With an axe and no hesitation. She'd always tried to see the best in people before, but now she feared his worst. It was a new world.

No more tears, Katie Marvel. She meant it this time, wiping her cheeks determinedly as she steeled herself.

She snapped her head to look at the man in the drivers seat, her voice low and rough, burdened by tears but strengthened by her anger and her panic as her breathing quickened. She twisted her body on the seat to face towards him. “Who the hell are you?‌ Where the hell are we going?‌ Why the hell-”‌
She whirled around again, finding the buckle of the seat belt to unclip it with one hand as her other moved towards the door.

[bailey.t136]

-----──────
------❛ malachai stick ❜
-----──────
paragraph“oh- no, no, no, you don’t.” his eyes shifted at her low growl and caught her hands working desperately. her words tumbled out without filtration. rage was there, but she wasn’t thinking. he punched the child-lock button buried in his driver’s side door as he switched hands to catch her wrist by her seatbelt. how even to calm her. God. her eyes were so red from her pain.

paragraphwords, malachai. words.... now was the time to speak.

paragraph"listen- im not going to fight you.. or hurt you, okay." his grip slightly loosened on her wrist as he prayed the words would keep her inside the vehicle, "we’re on the same side.”

paragraphhis heart was racing. he swore hers was too, and his words caught as he tried to force his thoughts together. "malachai- i'm malachai." the best- no, the only way to win her confidence would be to be completely honest with her. it was a method he preferred but not everyone was so trusting. he couldn't rely on her being easy either.

paragraph-and i tried to tell you. no, that was too aggressive. different approach mal.

paragraph"we're going somewhere safer- away from all of these hordes. i trust you dont care to meet anymore today, mm?" his voice had a slight hum to it as he steadied his tone. his eyes glanced up to his rearview mirror then back to the long stretch ahead of them.

paragraph"why the hell-" "and we're going because we're survivors." his eyes tugged from the road to help her understand his genuine sincerity, "i'm sorry- i know you're scared, and hurt, and angry, but you have to trust me on this."

paragraphhis fingers allowed her wrist to finally slip away as a hopeful sign of mutual respect, "can i ask for your name, ms...?"

[sataraxias]

The door clicked as it locked, the handle cold and unyielding beneath her fingers as she tugged desperately for its release. Frustrated, the girl found herself weakly whacking her palm against the door. Just to hit something. Her other hand was caught, stealing her attention back to him as he held her. She stared at him with lips gently parted as her words caught in her throat. She tried to away. No go - he held on too tightly.

"Malachai," she repeated his name. Softly, weakly, the fire of her previous outburst diminished. Survivors, he said. Was that what she was now? A survivor spat out in the wake of a wicked calamity, the timeless rhythms of her daily life disrupted forever? She turned her head to stare at the crescent moon tattoo on her wrist, hissing in a breath. "You can let go of my hand now, Malachai."

She turned back to look at him, voice flat. "We're on the same side? You know how crazy those words sound after you just literally beheaded my friend with an axe?" Katie sighed, wiping her free hand across her face. "That wasn't fair. I'm sorry... it's just..."
She let her words trail off. It hadn't been Marc he'd saved her from - just a sickness that created a monster in his body. The knowledge didn't make the gaping loss hurt less.

"I'm sorry," she repeated quietly.
Sorry for everything. She was a mess.

If the world wasn't so crazy around them, his attempt at getting her to trust him would've been ludicrous. As it was, she was tempted. How the hell was he so calm about this all? The cadence of his voice was so damn reassuring for some reason, and she hated it. Somewhere safer, he claimed. Because her and Marc hadn't been trying to get to somewhere safer, too.

His grip around her wrist loosened and instantly, her hand was pulled away to rest in her lap.
’You have to trust me on this.’ Trust was so much like a promise. So easily broken. So easily given. She hesitated.
Chin up, smile, keep marching on. That was her mantra, had always been her mantra. She rolled with the punches, and maybe, just maybe, she could muster up the will to trust the stranger who had just saved her life. Even if it was just with something as simple as her name. For now. She wasn't going anywhere for a while. She couldn’t quite force the smile up, but she lifted her chin to watch the road in front of her. No more tears, just a cold that settled over her, prickling her arm with goosebumps.

“Katie. My name's Katie Marvel, and I don't want your pity.”