VENGEANCE

MAY YOUR SURVIVAL BE LONG. MAY YOUR DEATH BE SWIFT.

[coincount]

      THE LAST OF US RP STARTERS              PART I

Well, I have some interesting news for you.

Are these assholes still with us?

Only got a few hours left until curfew.

Ration line hasn’t opened yet. Must be running low again.

Better not mention them too loudly. You don’t want the wrong person hearing you.

Fuck… so much for the easy route.

Patch yourself up, alright?

You see that shit?

You stay outta trouble, alright? Military’s gonna be out in force soon.

No signs of military or infected.

Let’s grab our gear. Our backpacks are still here from last time.

Make your shots count.

It’s like we’re on a date.

You think he’s still got our guns?

Once we get our merchandise back, it should be easy to unload.

Body’s not that old. Better keep your eyes and ears open.

Get your ass up here. Let’s move.

Didn’t realise you two were together.

Turn the fuck around and leave now.

I will bash your skull unless you turn around and get your dumb ass outta here.

Let’s spread out and make sure no one’s creeping around here.

You’re insane. Going outside the wall is suicide.

You wanna tell us where the guns are?

You know, I might’ve done that if you hadn’t tried to fucking kill me.

I need something smuggled out of the city.

Ain’t a big fan of these odds.

We can sneak by them, even though I know that’s not your style.

Damn, we missed all the action.

I’m running on fumes, but I’ll make it.

What the hell are we smuggling?

Get the fuck away from her!

What’re you, like twelve?

I’ll be honest with you, I could give two shits about what you’re up to.

You mumble in your sleep.

Sorry it took so long - soldiers are fucking everywhere.

I’m not infected.

Everyone turns within two days, so you stop bullshitting.

When I give you the signal, we run.

There’s so many of them out there - how are we supposed to get past them?

They haven’t spotted us yet, let’s go around.

You better be worth it.

Are we safe?

Hey, fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this.

I mean, we’ve come this far, let’s just finish it.

Damn. That’s quite a drop.

If you hear one clicking, you gotta hide - that’s how they spot you.

Let’s search for supplies.

Other than shitting my pants, I’m fine.

This is crazy. Just don’t look down.

I was thinking… after we get back, we can take it easy for a little while.

How do we get out of this place?

How were you bitten?

I’m surprised she didn’t shoot you.

Man… you can’t deny that view.

I can’t swim.

I know you’re getting paid for this, but I’m trying to say thanks.

I know that you are smarter than this.

Guess what, we’re shitty people. It’s been that way for a long time.

I’m not going anywhere. This is my last stop.

Our luck had to run out sooner or later.

Holy shit, she’s infected.

Oops, right?

This is fucking real.

I can buy you some time, but you have to run.

I will not turn into one of those things.

Come on. Make this easy fro me.

We just left her to die.

Let’s find them and get the hell out of here before clickers show up.

They’ll think you’re crazy, or they’ll try to kill you.

You do what I say, when I say it. We clear?

I’ve never seen anything like this, that’s all.

I don’t mean to upset you, but your friend’s chances of survival weren’t too high to begin with.

I doubt I could get either one of us back into the city in one piece.

So let’s say we get a car from this buddy of yours. Then what?

Some places got a head’s up before the infection showed up. Most didn’t.

Must be hard, just leaving all your stuff behind like that.

Anybody else live in this town?

Let me use that. I’m a pretty good shot with that thing.

When we get there, you let me do the talking.

You’re gonna find my body when I die from a heart attack.

Jeez, that thing scared the shit outta me!

Those things are kinda awesome.

Get off your ass and on your feet!

Don’t slow down. This place ain’t secure.

You got any bites?

Who the fuck is this punk and what’s she doing here?

Whatever favours you think I owe you, it isn’t worth that much.

If I’m gonna do this, there’s some gear I’m gonna need.

Whatever supplies you may want or need, I suggest you grab them.

Man, he’s got a fucking stick up his ass.

Don’t leave the door open.

Can’t believe you agreed to this bullshit.

Why don’t you fix one of those cars?

Don’t be a dick.

You picked a hell of a place to hole up.

As bad as those things are, at least they’re predictable.

It’s the normal people that scare me.

I need a gun.

This goes on record as the worst fucking job you’ve ever taken.

In this world, that sort of shit’s good for one thing: getting you killed.

Nice place you got here.

If you would give me a gun, I could help you kill some of these fuckers!

Maybe you should’ve given her a gun.

There’s more of those clicker things inside the house.

That was easier than I thought it’d be. They must be holed up somewhere else.

Get me up there and I’ll drop it to you.

Don’t get killed up there.

Oh, fuck - they’re piling over this fence over here. It’s not gonna hold!

Please tell me you’re done!

Get ready to haul ass.

Shit, there’s more on the way. Barricade the doors.

That doesn’t sound good.

What the fuck is that!?

Hate to interrupt your little biology lesson, but can we get the fuck outta here please?

Oh, I fucking hate those things!

So… that worked out well.

Somebody had the same idea. They stole my shit.

You ought to be thankful you’re still drawing breath.

That was plan A, B, C, all the way to fucking Z.

He’s the only idiot who would wear a shirt like that.

Look, you wanted a plan B. This is as good as it gets.

Let me know when you’re ready to finish this thing.

You’re doing a good job. I figure you should know.

We’re gonna give it another go.

That girl nearly got us killed.

You’d be amazed at how many cars still have gas in them.

Get the fuck out of my town.

This make you all nostalgic?

Oh… why are all these pages stuck together?

I’m just fucking with you.

Why don’t you try and get some sleep, alright?

Holy shit… are we going to help him?

What’s wrong with these guys?

This motherfucker’s dangerous… he killed all of them.

You know the drill. Look around, see if there’s anything we can use.

There’s some pretty gnarly stuff in here.

That’s a lot of people that didn’t make it.

So, uh. You kill a lot of innocent people?

I guess this is where the assholes sleep.

Dead people don’t get infected.

You sacrifice the few to save the many.

Where did you learn to shoot?

If you want some lessons, I’m more than willing to help you out.

They pull this crap every time. I swear to god, if they’re holding out on us again…

Okay, we need to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationery.

I found a joke book.

I walked into my sister’s room and tripped on a bra. It was a booby trap.

“A book just fell on my head. I only have myself to blame.“ Oh wait, I said it wrong. Hold on, let me read it again. “A book just fell on my head… I only have my shelf to blame.” Heh… ruined it.

Do you even understand what that means?

It’s strange seeing a checkpoint with no soldiers.

This place has been abandoned for a while now.

Let’s keep it down while we’re going through this area, okay?

I’m so fucking tired.

Now that we have enough people watching all the exits, he says we can set up a larger perimeter.

Every time we try, it ends up with a bunch of us getting killed.

Keep your expectations in check, youngun. You’ll live longer.

Look at all these books. I wish I had more room in my backpack.

What did the mermaid wear to her math class? An algae bra.

Okay, I’m all joked out.

We’re cutting through the hotel.

The wood’s all rotten.

Ever stay in a place like this? Before it all went to shit, I mean.

I really miss coffee.

You are a weird kid.

“People are making up apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow…” Too soon.

We’ve got another floor to check.

[coincount]

hit the heart for interactions this evening

[animusrox]

Laura Bailey as Abby Anderson The Last of Us Part II (2020) dev. Naughty Dog

[coincount]

the absolute 180 of everyone hating abby 3 years ago to now with her entire tag being filled with the nastiest horniest smut imagines—

[coincount]

:o hello

[onewingedangels]

Abby Anderson | THE LAST OF US PART II

[coincount]

@viralimmune: what do you know about this place?

possibly a bit too much. the grout's stained with the telltale sign of dried blood that danny spent way too long trying to scrub out to no avail. there are chains in the corner, cages that once stunk to high fucking heaven that you'd do better to close your eyes and ignore than to venture any closer to. (scars would scatter, scuttle back to the far corners and cower in the face of a bomber jacket and a sharpened knife.) this place is... a torture chamber, for a lack of better words. brushed clean now, reeking with bleach after isaac's latest great plan to ambush the island and take it by storm, but death seems to linger over the goddamn place. fucked up, right?

it makes her feel sick, even now. (that's the thing though — she doesn't... regret it. they kill us, we kill them. they torture ours, we torture theirs. cutting the guts out of a hanging wolf feels a little less personal than carving into the inner thigh of whichever culty fuck ended up behind their doors, but — the same methods are used in the fob and on the island.)

"uh." shit. fuck. how do you explain that? isaac is dead. shot through and left in the trenches as the rain pelts around him. (his body's still there, face down in the dirt or burned through the raze and silt that brought the island to its knees. so much for safety and community.)

"isaac used to bring scars here." gently does it. there's not much about her that's gentle, but the swell of responsibility that starts to push down on her shoulders (for this, for what happened here, for all the screams and the cries and the whatever means necessary that built her into the soldier she is today) makes her throat feel like someone just poured sand down it. "for information."

[coincount]

cordylpse​.

IT SEEMS LIKE IT TAKES AGES, but it’s only seconds. amy is sure she’s in there reading, curious what it is and if it’s interesting, but those curious thoughts are fleeting, gone almost as soon as they enter her mind, too caught up in just how chilled to the bone she is. she’s snapped out of her head when the pattering of abby’s feet is heard behind the door, moving closer and closer until the yellowish wood opens. amy can’t help but to smile at the sight.

abby looks good there, leaning in the doorframe like that, arms crossed over her chest. she always does. she isn’t confident in herself but god she should be. almost god like, muscle rippling and flexing and it’s just so attractive. again, for a second the biting cold is gone, warmed up by the sound of the others voice.

❝   yeah— big run, close to scar territory, all hands…. well at least medic hands, on deck just in case, y’know?   ❞   and she’s taking abby’s hand, keeping a distance to try and not soak the other woman in the process.

❝   just too cold to be alone tonight, you’re like a space heater anyway… like how are you always so fucking warm?   ❞   it’s probably the muscles…. definitely the muscles. she finds her way towards the little kitchenette in the room, dropping the soaked backpack to the floor by the counter and throwing her hat into the sink as she starts to peel off soaked clothing.    ❝  fuckin’ hat is ruined, kinda mad about it, it was my favorite.   ❞

shirt is coming off over her head, into the sink with her shirt, back turned to abby and manny’s side of the room, just in case.    ❝   no manny tonight? he out with another one of his flings?    ❞   now the pants, then the undies. she has an extra set stashed here somewhere, turning quickly to dig through abby’s stuff to find them. next she’s stealing one of her girlfriend’s shirts, pulling it over her head before collapsing into the small bed.

❝  if I asked you to lay on me, would you? I want to be crushed.    ❞

just like that, she’s being dragged around her own room. quick side-step of manny’s laundry, strewn across what they discussed to be communal, but ends up being the blast-zone of six-shot manny and whatever illicit liquor he managed to swipe on his most recent supply run. man, that guy loves rum. so while amy makes herself entirely at home — as she’s wont to do, they’ve done this dance a thousand times at this point — abby hangs back and offers out a slightly-crisp, air-dried towel. (no dry-cleaning in the apocalypse. even less when they have rows upon rows of clothes lines scattered across each corner of the stadium. abby prefers to drape hers over the bannister, but manny’s on laundry duty and... fuck knows where he goes half the time.)

“everyone all good?” a bloody scene calls medics to action, and when amy spends more time coming back with blood-caked fingernails and half a med pack lighter, it fills her with a different kind of worry. amy can take care of herself. but if amy’s faced with a man with a chunk ripped out of his arm, it’s only a waiting game until the fever takes over. (it’s more dangerous like that — the infection slowly grows from one limb to the next. broken wrists are one thing, but the infected is the main source of all their ails.)

amy seems fine though, and when abby drapes the towel over her shoulders, she takes her hand again and gives it a gentle squeeze. work sucks. she figures it was the same in the time before, too, but she has nothing to compare it to.

                “manny’s on patrol.” a stock answer. and one that’s so transparent, it may as well lead anyone who asks straight to his little love nest just outside the fob. (it’s the weather girl this week — meteorologist. because fuck knows what we need a meteorologist for when the world’s already gone to shit. if anything, knowing when a storm’s coming is the least of their worries. next week, it might be the cook. he’s had too many free burritos for it to be innocent. and the week after that, it might be his second-favourite patrol guard. abby being his first. obviously.)

“yeah, i’m not gonna do that. but i can warm you up.” she runs hot anyway. the worn-away holes in her shirts don’t bother her so much — the sleeves bunch up against her shoulders and the moth-eaten hems don’t leave her feeling as much of the cold as amy. fine. she can warm her up. “under the covers. no funny business. and don’t put your gross cold hands all over me.”

[coincount]

@mothinked / owen.

her fingers have been drumming on the steel table in the mess hall for at least five minutes now, and jordan's been shooting knives her way ever since. (she can't sit still. still doesn't really crop up into her vocabulary, however superfluous it might be. so in true form, the backpack is snatched from the side of her shin and she lumbers it out over a shoulder down the hallway.)

she's not a total fucking idiot.

it's so... painfully obvious what's happening here. the silence creeping in save for the clattering of knives and forks, and the way everyone talks around the issue instead of facing it head on. owen slips out, signs himself up for extra duties, keeps busy, too fucking busy in the same vein that she does, and they... don't talk. they haven't talked in so long that it's weird to even watch him pound down the corridor, but she does. and she follows. may be best to do this somewhere private.

"you avoiding me, owen?"

[coincount]

mothinked / ellie​.

It was a bold move on Ellie’s part but she was unflinching. She wasn’t afraid of Abby although she did possess a healthy dose of fear for what the stronger woman could do. What she was capable of. Break my ankles, huh…? I don’t see you doing anything about it though. Ellie knew better than to voice any kind of challenge to Abby, not when they could so easily go from zero to one hundred within the span of a heartbeat. She watched the other woman set down her latest reading material, green eyes calm and observant. It was actually nice to see that people read often. At this proximity they could probably count each other’s freckles. “Yeah, I do. They’re easy to clean.” They were a little dusty at the most and scuffed up at the least. Ellie was a cheeky shit at times, lacking a filter and knowing how to provoke just enough for the other person to act without thinking clearly. She countered with a haughty comment of, “Do you ever get laid?” But there wasn’t much bite to it. If anything it was a verbal pat on the arm rather than a punch. Patience was indeed a virtue.

“hey, fuck you.” that’s kind of the point, right? abby digs an elbow into the shin that’s closest to her and reaches out to shove her at the same time. (in all honesty, she’s tired. they’ve travelled far enough now that her eyes are beginning to droop at the mere thought of keeping them open for an hour longer.)

the sun has long set, and with the only light flickering in from what's left of the fire, abby places the book back down at her side before glancing back at her companion. (it's a cold night. objectively, cold. she's sure that without the fire, her breath would fog up between them and send a shiver down her spine. she runs hot, true, but even she is not immune to the depths of winter. she misses seattle, in its own fucked up way — at least there, there was food, water, necessities. isaac is a distant fucked-up memory, and seattle mostly sits like the thorn in her side, but there were good things there too. the grass is always greener.)

"don't be an asshole." it's hard for her. truly hard. like telling a leopard to take off its spots. but she knows that if ellie tries real hard, she can stop being a fucking asshole.

[winterswake]

You killed my friends.

Ellie after she kills Mel and Owen // Abby discovers the bodies of Owen and Mel

[ellienmity]

you all only hate me because ive tried to kill you multiple times and will continue to. get over yourself.

[crucefix]

Abby Anderson - The Last Of Us Part II

[coincount]

@blissflower: you need this. you can’t leave.

the bunker is dark. and... surprisingly quiet. bliss seems to flood in through each crack in the walls, and the ominous green glow funnels into each room behind the crates of supplies and faith's own kit. (hairbrushes. maps. there's a thin counter of what she has to assume is bliss itself, crushed and... yeah. fuck. this is bad.)

"i have to." (there's a bullet still lodged in the side of her thigh — or there was last time she checked. faith seems far too real this time, far too present for it to be just a mirage, and the further into the lion's maw abby gets, the worse she looks. the dress doesn't fit. sunken cheeks seem to take over each crack in her face, but — this could just be the bliss. fuck this stuff. all it does is chip away at the last remaining full part of her. i have to go i have to go i have to go i have to go.)

"you need to let me go, faith." it takes every ounce of strength to pull herself up from the cot in the corner, and when she tests her weight on the leg, it trembles slightly from under her.

"i need you to let me go. that's what — that's what i need. i can't stay. you know i have to go."

[infectd]

❛   i've seen the bleeding …   ❜ it's the way the fire crackles between the two , sparks dancing up into the sky above as sounds of silence fill the air around them. no echo's of infected's moans in the distance , no breaking of twigs as stray deer roam from their path. only the reverberations she and @coincount created at their camp site broke through. ❛   and i hate what i've done.   ❜

soldiers eyes by jack savoretti starter

[coincount]

it's an eerily tender moment, and she's sure it doesn't sit well with either of them. the fire warms bare flesh as she cowers around it, drags her backpack from the side, and starts to rifle through it. (they leave a trail of destruction in their path — death, decay, the shit that grows straight from the root and threatens to clog up their lungs. that's the kind of fucking world they live in now.)

"yeah, well." she's not entirely sure what to say, but anything seems better than the ominous silence that's been cast over them. "you're alive. it sucks, but." good job, anderson. asshole.

[wristful]

@coincount

ellie creeps quiet; it doesn't take much to be delicate, the linoleum doesn't squeak after twenty years of rot, the doors do not creak after twenty years of rust. there is the ever present faint tick-tick-tick of fungal ravaged bodies shuffling not far from where they are moving. enough for her to whisper as low as she can dare. "we have to go around."

[coincount]

the quiet is not lost on her; she schools her breathing and reaches slowly for the corroded pipe on the floor. (it hums out a quiet srrrkkk as she pulls it off the ground, and abby winces before checking back with ellie.)

she nods, once, rolling herself onto the backs of her heels and crouching forward. (one clicker in the corner, concerned more with the crrrrrrrrrk from beyond the other side of the wall, and she's resolute. around. she can do sneaky. there's a time and a place for ripping heads from stalks.) she inches forward, waves a quiet hand toward her companion and points toward the fire exit. it's not quiet, but it does the trick. if the door slams behind them, the only thing they have to worry about is what's on the other side.

[coincount]

@viralimmune: i can buy you some time, but you have to run.

there's shattered glass that makes a bed beneath their feet, and a clicker that hurls itself through the jagged window-space. two more follow behind, a fucking shambler (are you fucking serious right now?!) and a couple runners flanking them from each side. burn the whole fucking thing, in her eyes.

the shriek is more chilling than she'd bear to admit, and the heavy thump of each of her feet crunching against the glass is starting to burn in the back of her thighs. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck— (she promised she wouldn't die like this — on that fucking carpet? in this fucking warehouse? — it was meant to be a supply run. isaac'd heard rumblings of scar ransacking, and the better way to get ahead of a future problem is to take the insides as they come.)

one jumps, fast, through a rotten patch of drywall and grabs her by the collar. it's heavy, and the stench of dead flesh rips through her nose as it lumbers over her, knocking her to the ground and smacking her against the floor. fuckfuckfuckfuck—

the shot is perfect. a truly incredibly aim splits through the skull and leaves her lumbered with a slumped corpse, but abby shimmies out from beneath the runner and cuts the base of her palm hauling herself back up.

"are you fucking kidding me?!" they don't leave people behind — that's been an unwritten rule since the first patrol. (she feels the cooling drip of blood down the length of her hand, but she reaches for the gun strapped to her thigh and shakes her head. not a fucking chance.)

"we both run — find a better fucking vantage point. now!"