"If anybody's listening to me, and alive, it'd be great to know."
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"If anybody's listening to me, and alive, it'd be great to know."
{I need more Walking Dead AUs. Somebody come plot with me. Or like this and I can write a starter.}
wires // closed
Air was silent for a few long moments and Carol figured no one was there. A gentle sigh left her lips and she quietly walked over to the kitchen; placing her bag carefully down on the countertop. She looked around the room and walked back in the living room once more. Her eyes gazed around at the many photos on the wall.
Pictures of several different kids were mounted on the wall. A family portrait hung in the middle of all the smaller pictures and a sad smile graced her lips. They all looked so happy, but they were all more than likely dead.
A voice had Carol jumping and she turned around quickly to the sound of the male teenage voice. She didn’t bother taking out her knife. He looked scared, harmless. She took a gentle step towards the bottom of the stairs as she stared up at the boy. “Are you alone?” She asked, softly.
He had made a promise to himself that he could not trust anybody. But he was a boy. He was starving for human interaction. Not the dead. Something about her seemed so motherly and it made the smile of his own mother appear in his mind, and his hands threaded in his hair, new tears in his eyes.
"I'm alone," his voice was small. He was starving, the kitchen nearly empty. He was sitting and letting silence devour him. He nodded stiffly, taking a shaking breath. "I'm alone," he whispers. He seemed a lot smaller than he actually was, thin, his clothes too big for his skinny frame.
Questions ran through his mind, but there was no sense in asking them. It was likely nobody he knew was alive. Only days ago, he could have swore he saw one of them walking, wearing the same shirt his sister always used to wear. He was too afraid to move; too afraid he'd break what little balance there was left in his life.
{i started watching the walking dead and now i hate everything}
☂
"Oh, really?"
"Truly." She was quiet for a moment, trying not to smile, but she burst into giggles. "Do I at least get to know who is making me laugh?"
blaring' || closed
Mark followed the other boy’s gaze and watched as a girl vanished from sight around the corner. Must be a sister, he figured. But his gaze quickly swiveled back to the boy, trying to assess if he was a threat or not, before the redheaded boy returned his attention to him. A smile forced it’s way onto his lips, as if he wasn’t used to being in these sort of situations.
"It’s no problem…" He called after him as the boy retreated back inside as he took a step or two into the room to peer further inside. Everything appeared to be normal. A moment before the boy turned back around, Mark shifted back to the spot he had been in before, still looking unsure about the whole situation.
"It’s fine," The awkward smile is back as he gives a short nod, as if he knows what it’s like. "My brother’s the one who sent me out here. I didn’t mind.” He admits, motioning over his shoulder vaguely in the opposite direction he came. This may be a harmless chat, but he’s not naive enough to relax around this stranger.
William was not naturally quiet. He liked being loud, noticed, and liked to make other people laugh. It was clear to him that the person in front of him was not comfortable. It made him a bit fidgety, but he was used to it. He knew how to keep himself polite and calm enough. He wasn't exactly sure how long he'd been staying there, but he was sure it was longer than a week.
He had no idea what the person in front of him might be thinking. But there was an odd feeling that wrapped around him. He brushed it aside and tapped his fingers against the door. "Really am. Normally I'm quiet with my music, but my sister was just..." He shook his head with a small scoff.
"Really? Most people tell me to turn it off just because they hate it." He laughed quietly and rubbed the back of his head. "I'm probably going to go somewhere else right now, so I won't be annoying anybody, your brother included. Any diners around here?"
☂
"Why thank you."
"I'm being honest, you're one of those people with an infectious smile."
Slowly Ruben reached to his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He held it before the guy covering it with the second hand against the wind. He flipped it and watched the little flame appearing. “Any other wishes I can make come true?” He raised his eyes at the other smirking.
"None that immediately come to mind." He wanted to thank the man for not questioning his age; he didn't look too young, but enough to be barely legal. He took a slow drag and let the smoke blow from his nose. He leaned against the wall and looked at the street, wet with rain that had fallen hours ago. It was a perfect night for him.
wires // closed
The house she’d found was perfect. Big, spacious and from what she could tell around town, abandoned. She didn’t have much trouble getting inside other than having to bust down the door. A heaved sigh left her lips when she was finally inside and her hand went to cover her knife in the carrier as her eyes roamed the area.
She saw movement down the hall and from what she could tell, it was too fast to be a Walker. Carol walked on swift, but quiet feet as she made her way towards the movement. She heard scurrying upstairs and gnawed down on her bottom lip as she decided whether or not to speak.
”Hello?” She finally called out; her ears perking as she waited for an answer.
Honestly, he wasn't sure what kind of person this was. They were speaking, so obviously, they weren't one of those things. But there were people that were being cruel, and killing for supplies. He wasn't sure what one of those people the female voice was. He was scared, and when he opened his eyes, the pictures on the walls of his parents' bedroom made him feel sick.
They were probably dead. Pictures of their family of seven, smiling in their Polaroid pictures. He had nowhere to go, and what he had left to live was getting low. He picked himself up slowly, hardly breathing. He grabbed one photo off from the wall and stored it in his pocket, before slowly stepping onto the upstairs landing.
He peered around the edge of the wall and saw the build of a woman standing there. The weapon in her hand made his heart beat faster, and his voice cracked as he spoke. "I'm here." I'm here. Two little words, that meant life or death. He felt so small. Only fourteen and alone.
“You sure that you want to hear about my favorite things? I’m a boring person, take my word for it.” His social anxiety was beginning to set in when he realized that she wanted him to talk about himself. Filling out college applications was bad enough, and the interviews following were even worse. He hated talking in general around people, but what he hated more was talking about himself. “I… I like theater. And figure skating. Cats. Brownies. The color purple. And green. I’m not very good with this type of stuff, Marie.”
"Nobody's boring. Even though they think they are. You live, you breathe, and whatever you find interesting can mean the world." She didn't want to know his life story. She'd never ask that of somebody. That was theirs and she had no right to demand it. She talked of her family freely because she was happy with it. But not everybody was so lucky, and she learned not to open locked doors. "That's a good start, see? That's amazing, because now I know some things you like and can guess some stuff you don't. We have stuff in common now. I have three cats, love brownies, purple matches my hair, and I like learning about theater."
{sms} swiggity swag thumper's a fag -wr
{sms} big surprise what was your first clue -t
{sms}of course im gonna catch every red light -t
{sms} it's like two am yolo -wr
comes and goes // closed
It’s always one place after the next; a week here, a month there — maybe he’ll stay longer this time, who knew? The simple fact of the matter is that he loves to work. Perhaps it’s due to the fact it’s honestly the only thing he can excel at. Or that because he gets paid for working with animals. Nevertheless, it’s his life now, and he wouldn’t change that got anything.
This farm wasn’t necessarily the most amazing one that he had been too, but it was larger — meaning more work — and the boss was certainly much more friendlier. In fact, Drover often wondered if he was viewed as being a replacement son; one in which the couple, unfortunately, couldn’t have. He knew that leaving here would be difficult, for he really did care about the place, but the day would come eventually and he was dreading the moment he would have to say goodbye.
The voice startles him, the unfamiliar accent ringing in his ears like some melody. He turns, still holding a fairly tight grip around the leather reins, before a smile is spread across his face. It’s a woman. Few came to work in places like this: so it was a rarity for him to find such a young — and beautiful — one to appear. His grin simply widens as he beckons her forward with his free hand.
"Can I help you, miss?"
Marie grew up in a country side with hardly a splash of dull color. Gentle hills wore blankets of green and the trees danced in the winds. A family with dogs, chickens, horses, even a pig. She'd always gotten her nicest clothes dirty with her siblings, and her mother would only smile, pretend to be annoyed, and wash them up. Her life had been full of wonderful moments, and any farm was a home away from home. She craved it.
She takes steps towards him, thumbs still in the pockets of her blue jeans. She looks at the horse and then at the boy; a likely couple. She stops in front of him, holding her hand out to the horse, before turning another smile onto him. She's alive. She smells spring in full swing, and she's in love. Life is good, love is kind, patience is safe.
She is looking at a temporary home, a possible friendship, and she cannot be more in love. She tucks some of her red hair behind her ear and holds her hand out to him, lips pursed to contain her smile. The girl is alight, and anybody looking at her can see that. She is a body of love and there's something in her smile that makes strangers look twice. She has been broken, she has fallen, yet she stands still. She stands to help.
"I'm Marie Rollins. And I was wondering if you needed some help."