✧ - rule the world

[sataraxias]

𝑊𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑃𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅𝑆, 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑃𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅𝑆 𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐵𝐸

──────(ＣＯＭＥ ＲＵＬＥ ＴＨＥ ＷＯＲＬＤ ＷＩＴＨ ＭＥ)─────
one x one with my bab zara <3 please don't post unless you're us

[sataraxias]

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𝙵𝙴𝙴𝚃 xxx 𝙾𝙽 xxx 𝚃𝙷𝙴 xxx 𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳──────────

𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑪𝑰𝑻𝒀 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻❜𝑺 𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮!

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xxat first interaction, nyx generally comes off as ruthless and focused. they’re a member
xxof the triangle, and not for no reason. they do what it takes, and sometimes what that
xxentails conflicts with their sense of justice. it is how it is. they’ve got a strong sense of
xxright & wrong, but they’re a survivor first and foremost. sometimes the two contradict,
xxand well, they’re still here. behind their back, they’ve been nicknamed as the diplomat
xx(which they find hilarious) for the common perception that out of the triangle they'll be
xxthe most willing to offer mercy. whether that's true or not, nyx themselves are not quite
xxsure as they're no stranger to pulling a gun-- but they'll admit they are less inclined to
xxmove straight into bloodshed as harlow prefers. they're just apathetic to most things.
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i. alexander "nyx" tyche
ii. they/them or he/they
iii. twenty - six years old
iv. 6"1 (one-eighty-five cm)
v. they've got a lot of tats.
vii. generally uses a pistol,
but they're not too picky.
viii. military background :D
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getting to know them better
will reveal an absolutely awful
(and dry) sense of humour that
they've seemed to cultivate esp
ecially to infuriate harlow. w/
a bad habit of appearing smug
about literally everything, nyx
is often sarcastic and a tad bit
arrogant, willing to tell their
'dearest harly' what the others
won't. but for all their sass &
jesting, they're loyal to their
core and will fight for their
people for forever & a day.
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after having an antidote used on them, nyx is effect-
ively immune to the zombie virus. they cannot turn,
but that doesn't render them immune from the fact
the creatures will try to tear them apart. additionally,
nyx carries one of the antidote vials around their neck.

[sataraxias]

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𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓
━━━(name)━━
𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵?
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▓▓▓▓▓

┌────────┐

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ames; just a sweetheart with
silver screen dreams turned
survivor. that's how it goes.
it's her and her sister against
the world, and hell hath no
fury like a belrose wronged.
i. nineteen
ii. 5"11
iii. pansexual

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└────────┘

-xxx𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃'𝚂xxx𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁xxx𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙰𝙲𝚈?xxx
┌───────────┐

she's a force to be reckoned with;
there's wild lightning in her smile,
a promise of a show to come. she's
easy to underestimate -- and she'll
prove you wrong for it every time.
maybe she needs a warning sign.

└───────────┘

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here's some other stuffs just bc:
- tattoos: red queen of hearts on right
shoulder, toppled chess piece on her
right wrist & two dice on her left ankle
- her kelpie is named Captain, and she's
the bEST DOG IN THE WORLD (she says,
and then whispers to their other two
they're also the best)
- hi Kay you sweet sunshine child, this
woman is ready to shooty shooty bang
bang at anyone who wrongs ya
- she prefers her glock but she can
also do super cool martial art hit-y
things @ people who are all like
uwu we gonna attacc
- girl loves shakespeare a LOT
especially lady macbeth and
probably also ophelia bc she's
cool

[zara3447]

•　•　•
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　« 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆 (𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖎) 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖊 »

　　i. cis female　　　　ii. she/her　　　　iii. pansexual
　　iv. 130lbs　　　　　　v. 21 yrs　　　　　vi. 5'9

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

　notes:
　• ash blonde hair, navy blue eyes
　• owns a female blue & tan kelpie named snugglebug (aka
　snug) who may possibly be in contention for the world's
　most clannish canine (something she has in common with
　her owner, though tali hides it better)
　• three tattoos: silver & black rose (left rib cage); chinese
　character for water (right ankle); ace of spades (left wrist)
　• martial arts training and a hunting knife called vengeance

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━━━𝚒'𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 ━━━
ｉ 　 ｌｉｇｈｔ 　 ｉｔ 　 ｕｐ 　;

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　　personality:
　　• she's never claimed to be a saint (or even remotely saintly), but
　　if you're one of 'hers', she will fight for you, and say damn to the
　　rest of the world
　　• has a brutal sense of justice, but an equal sense of fairness
　　• calm, cool, and unfazed in nearly any situation
　　• one never knows how deep the waters run with this one (she
　　could despise you, or be willing to die for you, but treat you not
　　one bit different until it came down to it)
　　• unafraid to dirty her hands. if it saves another from having to
　　stomach an unpleasant task, she will volunteer for it every time
　　• bravery and foolishness are a fine line, she treads it well most
　　days, but there are some things and some people she's simply
　　unreasonable about protecting (cough cough little sis)
　　• always up for a good sparring match, verbal or physical
　　• love can be a grave mistake, your greatest weakness, so choose
　　with care whom you're willing to let into your heart, lest they stab
　　you where you're least able to defend against (even if they didn't
　　mean to at all)
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　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　•　•　•

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history:
• in a family of five, thalia is the middle sibling. her older brother, asher, is 25, and her younger sister, amalia, is 19
• originally a farm girl, she moved to an apartment in the city to study medicine at the university

━━━𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐

[zara3447]

•　•　•
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　𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒆 “𝒌𝒂𝒚” 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔

　　i. cis female　　　　ii. she/her　　　　iii. pansexual
　　iv. 110lbs　　　　　　v. 18 yrs　　　　　vi. 5'6

┏━　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　━┓

　notes:
　• auburn hair, hazel eyes
　• scar across her abdomen, just above her navel from an
　encounter with the triangle at sixteen; she tried to stop
　them from stealing the antidote, harlow tried to gut her
　like a fish. neither quite succeeded
　• good with a gun, melee not so much

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━━(( 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝓊𝓉 ))━━━

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　　personality:
　　• someone get this girl out of here because she's honestly too much
　　of a sweetheart to survive in a hungry tribe of cannibals
　　• unfailingly polite, as her father raised her to be (he might have
　　lost all his marbles, but he didn't lose any of his manners. it's slightly
　　disconcerting, a madman speaking to you with such utmost courtesy)
　　• likes to help people, tries way too hard to fix them sometimes
　　• doesn't have a cruel bone in her body, but she well understands
　　the necessity of some actions (she just doesn't have to like it)
　　• won't flinch in the face of danger (the nightmares still come for
　　her, but they're old hat by now)
　　• memory like a steel trap... it doesn't always work in her favor
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　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　•　•　•

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history:
• mother died shortly after she was born; her dad had never been the sanest of individuals, but elle's death broke him irreparably
• for all his insanity, alan graves truly does love his daughter. they have their differences (mostly centered around the tribe of lunatic cannibals he leads) but he would never willingly hurt her
• "i really wish you would respect the tribe more, honey." "it's a cult, dad, not a tribe. you're running a cult."
• the faction war between the cannibals and survivor gang is partly her fault. alan is absolutely furious at the triangle for stealing the antidotes, but what he really can't forgive is harlow's attempt to gut his baby girl
• cannibals have their main base in an abandoned train down in the catacombs

━━━(( 𝓲'𝓶 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓷𝓮... ))━━━

[sataraxias]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙚 ━━━━━━

𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑻 𝑫𝑼𝑺𝑻 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑾𝑰𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑬 - ! ! !

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• wouldn't consider himself a bad person, despite his
  unconventional diet. they're just surviving, a differ
  ent way. a new world calls for a new way forward,
  and he wishes that kay would just at least try to
  understand.
  
• alan loves kay with all his heart- the last reminder
  of his precious elle. he did his best to raise her right
  & he's relentless in his attempts to protect her.
• is immune to bites - took an antidote. would've
  given kay one, too - 'cept they got stolen. harlow
  will get what's coming someday soon. he's sworn
  on it.
  
• charismatic but unpredictable. this is a man
  with sharks swimming in his smile and a taste for
  blood, but what's especially creepy is the way he
  can talk so many into following him. he's similar
  to harlow: not cruel, per se, but not necessarily
  inclined to mercy when wronged. examples set
  a path to follow. rules in anarchy, sweetheart.
  
• before the world's end, he was a chef. when
  food became a problem, he found a new solution.

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[zara3447]

ρυт мє ιи α ¢яσωи ━━━━━━

𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕖 𝕣𝕦𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕟
•　•　•　•　•　•　•　•　•　•　•　•　•

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• she doesn't mind playing the role of the villain; somebody
  has to in every story, and it might as well be her
  
• you don't cross her, you don't cross her lieutenants. she's
  gotten this far by ruling with an iron fist, and she's not
  about to let that hard-earned power go
  
• desperate times call for ruthless measures. harlow is no
  lady macbeth. blood has long since stopped bothering her.
  she's not needlessly cruel, but her definition of necessary
  brutality is a little looser than most people's
  
• you buy her trust with loyalty, and you prove it every day
  with blood (the price is a little too high for most)
  
• worked as a retail manager before she joined the army
  and found her place as an army ranger. it's in your best
  interests not to give her a gun or a reason to shoot you,
  because you won't be the one walking away from that
  confrontation

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[sataraxias]

──( NYX )──
~~ then
The city had fallen, but Nyx considered it as no surprise. It’d been a while in the making, and truth be told, they hadn’t expected the Parisan walls to hold for as long as they had, although it’d certainly been helpful. The fortifications were early apocalypse architecture, the desperate efforts of the government to fortify a country that had soon fallen anyway. France had been granted a small amount of warning after America had fallen, but even the small period of grace had not been enough to stop the contamination. There’d been creepers within the walls for days, but they supposed now they would contribute a real threat.

They were in the thick of the fighting now, shots ringing out an executioner’s drumbeat in tune with the cries of the damned and the dead. Spiders, Ravens and creepers, all intertwined in a power struggle that had exploded violently and suddenly. The timing was impressive. Alan Graves was an opportunistic son of a gun, and a bitter history incurred no mercy. The precious vial on its chain around their neck served as a reminder of that. In a way, too, Nyx themselves served as a living reminder, the remnant of an antidote’s action against the deadly poison that had sought to overflow his veins. They watched one of their own fall, tackled by a creeper that dug right in, but there was nothing they could’ve done and attempts at this point would be too little, too late. The damned strove for blood, and the Ravens cawed.

The fighting would end. There was no question of who would come out on top, and that wasn’t just Nyx being optimistic for their own. Despite the heavy casualties they’d taken, the Spiders had the advantage of numbers. The Spiders fought on their turf, too, spilling out of the main office building that had been their base. It wouldn’t be, anymore- Harlow wouldn’t bother with repairs if it was just easier to relocate. She had contingencies in place, she always did. Nyx didn’t need to dwell on it, so instead they focused on fighting their way up the narrow staircase.

It got quieter the higher they fought, destruction wrought through the building. They contributed to it, somewhat, slotting back into that easy them or me mindset that had kept them breathing so long. The sound of yet another scuffle reached their ears, and from afar they saw it. What had once been the meeting room for some corporation’s nuts and bolts now served as the background of a battle scene that might’ve come out of an action flick in the old days. A defining dance of destiny, and oh, how quickly giants could fall. Honour for their fallen demanded vengeance, and more importantly, Nyx hadn’t missed the flash of a certain vial. Oh, like hell they were losing such an asset just because Cor had decided to go and kick the bucket.

They’d intended a bullet, but their pistol clicked uselessly. They settled for just throwing it aside and colliding with the woman.

~ now
Flaming red hair, flaming face, that hat she loved so much was lopsided. The garment was booping up and down as she paced. They decided not to mention it, though they struggled to keep a straight face. They watched her lash out with an old empty cardboard box, watching the flimsy container bounce off the wall. Nyx cupped their hand over their face, propping their elbow on the knee that rested triangular on the dusty counter of some old store as they leaned back. The two of them were alone somewhere-- a raiding trip as an excuse for privacy and a talk.

Demands for retribution had been swift, as they’d expected when they gave her the news, but truth be told they weren’t too inclined to be sympathetic. It’d been bound to happen eventually, knowing Corey. He’d given a good fight, but his foe had given a better, and he was a terrible person even by apocalypse standards. “Try calming down,” they contributed helpfully, and if they were anyone else they didn’t doubt Harlow would’ve shot them. If looks could kill…

She of course hadn’t forgotten their failure. They ran a gentle finger over the cut branding their cheek. It’d leave a scar. They’d put a valiant fight and they’d earnt the knife that had marked them, but they hadn’t had the time to finish things. Not if they’d wanted to save their ass, and they’d decided they’d did. Just because they couldn’t turn didn’t mean a giant freakin’ horde couldn’t hurt them after all. Movement caught their eye.

“Ooh, bonjour! Be our guest,” they sang out suddenly, faking a strong French accent. They were neither French nor could they speak the language, despite the city they’d found themselves in, so the pronunciation was terrible. “Oui, our guest! Be our guest!” That was all they could remember of the song, but they found themselves smirking at the creeper that had decided to wander through the door. Harlow channelled her rage into launching herself at it to dispatch it. Nyx watched it meet its second death at last after long weeks obviously spent rough on the streets. They laughed. “Feeling better now, Harly?”

[zara3447]

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𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊
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then..
It was a race against time, and Thalia was losing. Her heart drummed a wild beat in her ears, almost louder than the pounding of her boots on the stairs, and the roaring of the clashing forces around her. Gore sprayed against a window to her left; she spared it barely a glance. Shoving past the body slumping to the ground, she forced herself to go faster, dodging through the chaos.

Despite how badly she wanted to stab something right now, she couldn't let herself be caught up in the fighting, or she would lose her target. It was hard enough to track him through the tangle of warring bodies, though they provided ample distraction. He hadn't noticed his tail yet, too intent on cutting his way through the masses of Ravens and creepers. Single-minded Spider, much too accustomed to his time on top. It would make his fall hurt all the more.

She knew she had to follow, wait for a chance to corner him, but patience had never come so hard. Only half present, her body twisted past blows and grabbing hands on autopilot. All her focus, all her world, narrowed down to tight brown curls, slashing glances of blue eyes, and a black cord around his neck. Her heartbeat sounded like thunder, like the ticking of a clock, like the echo of his name. Asher, Asher. You're running out of time...

It was a dozen seconds and the span of an eon before she finally saw her opening. The Third grappled with a Raven, slamming her against door-frame of an empty meeting room. He downed his opponent with a knife through the jaw, and Thalia was there to take her place. Before he could even turn around, she was flying into him, shoving him into the room and out of the rest of the fighting. He hit the ground hard, and she was atop him a moment later.

It was messy, bloody, more for him than for her. He almost succeeded in throwing her off twice, but almost wasn't close enough. Yanking Vengeance out of his chest, she used the bloody blade to slash the vial free of his neck. It went into her pocket mere moments before the click of an empty gun alerted her to a new threat. Startling to her feet, she caught only a glimpse of determined brown eyes before another force collided with her.

The second fight lasted longer, cost her more. She was bruised and panting by the time she managed to sweep her opponent's feet from under them. This one was faster than the last, and smarter too. Not to mention, she was rapidly tiring. She needed to end it, now. She didn't know if she could. That left one option.

Though it left a sour taste in her mouth, Thalia turned to run. Snatching up the dead Spider's knife from off his corpse, she barely glanced back to aim before letting it fly. She didn't wait to see if it hit. As soon as the blade left her hand, she was out and running, as fast as her exhausted legs would take her.

now..
On the outside, the dilapidated wine warehouse didn't look like much. On the inside, the appearance didn't improve much either. But despite all its glaring aesthetic faults, it was structurally sound. And it was home, or, as close to one as they'd found in this godforsaken city. In this world gone to hell. She refused to let herself think about the one they had before, the farm and parents this apocalypse had cost them.

"Ash? Ames?" She hadn't realized how quiet it was until she slipped through the hidden back door and found only silence to greet her. At the sound of her voice, Snugglebug and Captain bounded down the stairs, tails wagging furiously in greeting. The kelpies were too well trained to bark. Spartan, however, was nowhere in sight. A cold shard of unease slipped into her chest, right above where the precious vial pressed against her breast pocket.

The cellar hatch was wood, firmly latched but by no means difficult to lift. Spartan was lying with her nose against the hinge, whining so softly it was nearly imperceptible. For a moment, Thalia hesitated, warring between the need for urgency and her wish to wait for her sister to return so she wouldn't have to do this alone. Urgency won out. Every second counted. Steeling her spine, she lifted the hatch, and descended the stairs. At the bottom, caution had her pressing her ear to the door.

Heavy, rasping breaths, that the wood barely muffled. Her fingers were already latched around the knob when a new sound made her freeze. Turned her blood to ice in her veins. A groan, drawn-out and nothing close to a sound a human should make. A pause, and then came the scratch of fingernails against wood, reverberating on the other side of the door. She recoiled, hand going automatically to the hunting knife around her waist.

Something was wrong here. Something was very, very wrong.

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𝚔𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚎
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Kaisie didn't know the name of the girl running beside her, and she didn't have time to stop and ask. Where was her father, where were the rest of the Ravens? Probably fighting for their lives right now. She wanted to go back to find him, but she needed to get out of here. Her presence would only be a hindrance to him, anyways, one more person he needed to keep an eye on when he should have both on the fight. Somewhere in the crowd behind her, the leader of the Spiders was gunning down Ravens like they'd personally offended her. Kaisie had bolted at the first sight of that wide-brimmed hat, nearly colliding with this stranger who'd evidently had a mind to do the same. She couldn't blame her, not at all.

She had pegged this confrontation as ill-advised from the start, and that was back when only Ravens and Spiders were in the picture. Kaisie had no way in hell of knowing where this massive horde of undead had come from, but she had a sneaking suspicion that the blonde was at least partly responsible for setting off the stun grenade that had attracted every zombie in miles.

An arm thrown into her path suddenly from a dying zombie's death throes had her stumbling to one knee in the dirty cobblestone street. Swallowing down her cry as she skinned her palms on the uneven stone, she gave herself a moment to gulp down a breath and try to push away her mounting panic. Her father would be fine. She would be fine. I'm not dying on these city streets.

A pale hand waved in her field of view, and she glanced up to catch a fierce look from grey-blue eyes. The other girl had stopped, was staring right at her with an impatient expression on her face. Despite herself, Kaisie found a blush rising up her neck, embarrassment and gratitude both. She took the proffered hand, wincing at the sting of contact on her raw skin. "Thank you." A second later, the grasp was broken, and they were moving again. There was no time to linger, to say more, even if she wanted to. A battlefield was not a suitable place to make a friend, and she knew it, even craving as she was for some normal human interaction.

Announcing its presence with a moan, a zombie stumbled into their path. Her finger found the trigger of her pistol on instinct between one step and the next, blasting its head off its shoulders. Unfortunately, she hadn't stopped to consider how the noise would carry. More creepers streamed out of abandoned buildings lining the intersection, cutting off her route to the subway station, and the catacombs entrance beyond. Despairingly, she threw a glance at her companion, making the split-second decision to trust her with their escape. "Hey! Do you know anywhere safe we can go from here?"

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𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚠
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Kicking her boot into the zombie's face, Harlow let out a bit of that simmering rage. The zombie was long dead, but she shot it again for good measure. "I wouldn't need cheering up if you weren't such a useless bloody waste of space! Did you forget how to use a gun?" Stopping her pacing for a heartbeat, she cast another glare at her grinning Second. "Be grateful it was the creeper and not you. Now you can wipe that amusement off your face before I carve it off instead."

She wasn't serious about her threats to them. Or, at least, not very. Corey was hard enough to replace. She'd have a hell of a time finding one for Nyx too. It didn't mean that she'd forgive them for their failure, but she'd give them a chance to amend it. "You know what needs to happen. Hunt them down, Second." One hand went to the brim of her beloved hat, the other holstering her handgun at her waist. Cold fire in grey eyes. "I'll accept my antidote back, and their heads as suitable apology."

Those arrogant, brainless sisters. They were foolish enough to cross her and desperate enough to need to. Harlow's fingers tightened on the grip of her gun, biting into the unyielding material. She'd been lenient, shown her mercy. When the three had asked to leave the Spiders, she had let them go. And now they stabbed her in the back like this. She though of blonde hair and a pretty, lying face. Amalia's startled expression as their gazes collided right before the blinding flash and deafening explosion of the stun grenade drowned out everything else. The girl had been gone when Harlow's vision cleared, or she'd be dead in pieces right now, and her traitor sister with her.

She thought of the Belroses, and bared her teeth. Ignored the hollow ache in her core, the feeling of incomplete blanketing this shop. A gap in the triangle where Corey should have been. Pushed the pain down, let the rage fill up the empty spaces. Silently, she made herself something that was less of a threat and more of a promise.

You took from me and mine. You'll pay with you and yours.

[sataraxias]

──( NYX )──
Nyx’s grin only widened.
“Let’s see,” their tone bordered on dryly sardonic as their pistol whipped up, a shot ringing through the space past her to topple the next zombie attempting to push its way through. Nyx shook their head. “Naah, I still remember. Perhaps the problem is that I remembered how to use my weapon too well in the main scuffle? Or maybe, if we’re inclined to throwing blame, we can mention how Cor forgot how to fight.”

They wondered if maybe they should consider closing the door so they’d stop getting these stumbling visitors. They supposed they’d be moving out now that she’d decided what she wanted. The demands were in no form surprising. If they were like Harlow and accustomed to constant wearing of a hat, they’d have tipped it -- but they weren’t, so verbal affirmation would have to compensate. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’ll put them six feet under and make sure they don’t rise again. All for you, my dearest, and our rotting pal back in the office.”

As if they’d liked Corey anyway. It was a blow to their pride to have failed. Or maybe just a reminder of their arrogance. Either way, Nyx didn’t like it - and that antidote was the very thing they’d fought not to lose, only to have it slip from beneath their grip.
“However,” they held a finger up towards her as they slid off the counter, sliding their gun back into its holster. Nyx made their way over to a shelf where their keen gaze had spotted something particularly useful.

They snatched up the bag of dog treats, slipping it into the inside pocket of their coat. “I want those pups of theirs, and that’s non-negotiable, so on the odd chance you’re putting out a bounty on their head for the lowly members of our rag-tag group to try their hand at claiming I trust you’ll remember to add a certain sentiment in there.”

They winked at her and took their leave by stepping over the remnants of the dead zombies. The hiss of their motorcycle’s engine signalled their exit as cracked black tarmac rolled beneath wheels. The rioting had calmed, somewhat, and they’d distanced themselves from the last dregs of the fight- but the lingering dead were a pain to navigate around. Still, they managed, as they sought to start their search.

It was luck and two running girls that led their way.

──( AMALIA )──
Huffing breaths scraped out of her sore, breathless throat as her head whipped side to side, ponytail shifting this way and that as she searched for a way out. She hadn’t intended to be on the streets for the aftermath of her distraction, but a smouldering glare had caught her own before impact, and she’d had to improvise herself away, cut off from the plan they’d so desperately devised. She forced herself to breathe and pointed out an exit from the horde down a side alley to the stranger she’d inadvertently picked up as company. If they were quick, they could make it, and quick they had to be. Fast as the Flash.

They bolted. Down the alley, over the fence. In the old world, she’d never had thought herself capable of all this running and jumping, even fit as the farm’s chores had made her - but in this new world, she was learning quickly what she was made of, and how far she’d go to survive. Ames didn’t have time to dwell, leading them rapidly through the streets of Paris, improvising their way back to what had grown to become a rudimentary home.

Once, she’d dreamed of a city view apartment with the Eiffel tower in her sights. That previous dream seemed so far away and pathetic now. Ames pushed on, her head bowed as tired legs sprinted. She didn’t stop to think, didn’t really register the girl by her side.

And then there they were, pushing their way into the old warehouse. Crates upon crates of wine in dusty bottles that’d once been coveted, now left to age out. She supposed it was good for the wine, in a way, ‘cos didn’t the taste improve with age? She didn’t know.

She made her way through these abandoned aisles, her breath coming in short pants as she beelined for the cellar. The scratch on wood shattered through her, a sound like nails on a chalkboard that signalled their failure despite the vial her sister held. Her heart shattered as she realized.

They’d done everything to deny the end its claim to their brother, and they’d still failed.