“no, i already told you,” gage sighs into the phone, his free hand rising to wipe at his brow in exasperation. “i gave you a goddamn list.” he's breathless as he speaks with adonis over the phone, the person he stupidly entrusted with picking up supplies for their upcoming backpacking trip. “everything needs to be exact, down to the ounce. we're going to be carrying everything we need for the entirety of our trip on our backs.” he sighs again, standing abruptly as he decides he can't waste another ten minutes on the phone with adonis, virtually holding his hand through the entire call. gage was thorough. he'd written down the exact brands, flavors, and portion sizes. the fact that adonis was calling him now was enough to drive him absolutely insane. he had much better things to do. spending time with his new wife before he disappeared for three weeks was one of them. “just fucking send me a pic of everything once you've got it--and keep the damn receipt,” gage says with finality, pulling his iphone away from his face and ending the call before allowing adonis a moment to respond. on his way out of the bedroom he shares with his wife, he sets his phone down on one of the dressers near the door, walking out into the hall in search of her.
he spots her sitting at the dining table, her usual spread of papers laid out around her. gage smiles softly to himself as he enters the room, pulling out the chair beside her and plopping down. “what are you apologizing for?” he asks softly, reaching out to fiddle with the corner of one of her many, many sheets of paper. “baby, please, take up all the space you need.” gage mirrors her movement, leaning back in his seat but just the mention of trail prep makes gage groan out loud, the sound settling into a laugh as he shakes his head. “i sent adonis to grab some food for our trip and he kept sending me pics of different items and asking if they were okay…” gage drags his palms down the front of his face, just thinking about the breath he wasted on that phone call was enough to make the annoyance resurface. he opens his eyes to find her watching him, his gaze immediately catching on the way her ring twirls around her finger. he reaches out instinctively, wrapping his fingers around her hand. “the least amount of snow would be ideal, but... we'll be prepared to handle whatever mother nature throws at us.” gage gives her a smile meant to be reassuring, squeezing her hand gently before asking, “are you hungry? can i make you a snack? something to nibble on while you work?”
" 𝙸 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 have it cleaned up for the four seconds you'd be home, but ... " she realizes it sounds harsher than need be. that with his limited time to spare, having dinner with his wife was expendable when the military and the john muir trail came first. she wishes she hadn't started counting — twenty-one days isn't that long. gage has done deployments that were much longer, more dangerous, more uncertain. she knows this, and still, somewhere beneath the rational part of her brain, something small and frightened and desperate for comfort keeps insisting that she shouldn't get too comfortable, shouldn't ask for too much lest it get taken away. she forces herself to smile through it anyway. “ you put him in charge of shopping ? honey ... can you even blame him if he strays from your spreadsheet ? “ she laughs, voice light enough that it almost sounds convincing. his question makes her shake her head immediately. “ no, no, i’m okay. i ... coffee is fine. ” she can’t remember if she ate lunch or just made coffee and kept reading, but nobody's keeping track.
𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙶𝙰𝚉𝙴 𝚂𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂 upon their joined hands, taking momentary comfort in it, before looking back up at him. “ the trail will be fun, ” she confirms, “ you’ve been looking forward to it forever. ” she means it, truly … she knows he deserves his own stretch of mountains and cold air that makes him feel at home again, and simultaneously she doesn’t want to be the kind of wife who asks him to stay because she simply misses him before he's even gone. “ but please be careful, okay ? ” maggie squeezes his fingers, brow creasing nervously, ” i know that's dumb, you've done more insane things. but — i'm going to be sitting here worrying myself sick for three weeks 'til you're back, so you have to be careful. donnie gets his honeymoon with you … me next ! " she's teasing … mostly … but it still leaves a sour taste in her mouth. " i won't book anything yet, i promise. i know it might not actually happen ... anytime soon, at least. but maybe one day. "
Amelia was becoming accustomed to the new world that they lived in and she hated that. She did not want this to be her new normal, it couldn't be. She missed her old life, she missed her best friend Julia and she often wondered if she was still alive.. well, you know. Alive in the way that the infected are alive. She worried about her brother and if he was okay, was he struggling? Had he found a group? Was he alive? Her mind racing constantly about the what ifs so much so that she truly could not remember the last time she had a decent nights sleep. She missed her bed. There was so much that she missed about her old life.
"That's easy." She turned to face maggie and gave her a smile with the corner of her lips. "Wherever my brother is." It was a simple answer and she was sure Maggie probably wanted to hear her say something like Mexico or a place in Europe. "But, if I had to pick a country then I would say.. maybe..hmm.." she took a moment to ponder the thought, it had been a while since she ever got to just think of something nice and simple like this, she was constantly in fight or flight. "You know, maybe England or even Greece."
𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙸𝙴'𝚂 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙵𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚂 into something distant, the truth in amelia's answer inspiring an ache in her own chest. " yeah ... " she says after a moment's pause, " that's probably the real answer, isn't it ? wherever the loved ones are. " maggie glances down at the rubble between their feet, blinking against a sudden sting in her eyes. she hadn't seen her own brother, her parents, her husband in … had it already been months ? " i was going to say new zealand, " she admits, hiking boot nudging a loose piece of debris, " we were supposed to go there for our honeymoon. but ... we kept putting it off because life gets in the way, y'know ? " she laughs, the irony of an apocalypse being the reason she missed out on such an experience is not lost on her. " i hope your brother's okay. for real, " she says, offers amelia a sad smile, words lacking in empty reassurance, only quiet sincerity. " i hope he's somewhere with canned food and somewhere comfortable to sleep. “ anything had to beat an old hospital bed or the forest floor, both of which had become locations assaulting maggie's sleep quality over the past couple months. “ hmm … those good picks. if we’re going to play pretend, we might as well do it right. ” she thinks a moment longer, curious, ” greece, i get — sunshine, ocean, fresh dinner right from the ocean. but why england ? ”
Within the periphery, warm and hungry, anywhere is the same as everywhere else. Outside of their jurisdiction, for example, there would be an earthen shroud of silence. Artful. Its throat-soft brass is louder without the plebian percussion. Beyond the bird-caging branches landscaped for the hospital, and the spare rabbit-foot not yet burrowed away from his nocturnal gaze. Empty sidewalks. Amplified silence: you could hear nature’s hum. Every journey leads back to roads, and birds, and leaves, and breath, and fruit, and water. Looking heavenward to the moon, then back to earth, upon its plaiting reflection in the interlocked ocean waves. It’s all the same, everywhere. His eyes don’t skirt far from the corner of his eye. Her gaze is glossy with the promise of rest.
And that’s the bottom line, isn’t it? She isn’t everywhere, and neither is he. No view outweighs the multiplicity of a person.
So. The question metastasises: with whom would he rather share this moment? No one. That time has passed. Those comrades are dead. Yours is a sentiment few would actually care to hear. Onto rocky shores, once traversed over foothill waves. The naval lime-light needle-pointed right into your pupils like lashes growing inward. Swallowed red. Spat onto green. What a time to be alive. Such overplayed memories at a time when all you can do is pause, rewind, and press play again. He sighs through his nose. The sunset reaches its blush-crest, red, and it is wholly inadequate. ‘ The sun won’t chase itself, ’ he remarks loosely, low in its cat-curl of amusement. ‘ And it feels particularly eastern tonight. Why don’t you enjoy it? ’
𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶 for a long moment she doesn't answer. arms fold tightly across chest like a hug she'll never receive, her gaze following his, drawn toward the horizon where the light is beginning to bleed through the trees in long strips of amber and red. the joke sits between them for a second, but she can sense the quiet sentiment underneath it. he isn't really talking about east or west. doesn't even really know what he means. despite it, she's grateful for the companionship, the riddle within his words giving her something else to think about. " i am enjoying it, " she tells him eventually, entirely unconvinced. " i just ..." she shrugs, words eluding her, " i've seen a hundred sunsets before. but still, i feel like if i don't pay attention hard enough, it'll disappear and i'll never get another one that looks like this. " she shrugs again, realizing her response is perhaps more morbid than the moment calls for. " do you know what i mean ? " she looks over at the other, brow perpetually knit in a defensive frown, but yet a glimmer of hope lingers in her eyes. " humor me. tell me where you'd rather be. i think i'd like to be on an island somewhere. a sparsely inhabited one. with, like, twenty other people. though i supposed that's what this is, " she nods past him, toward the medical center. " but i fucking hate this place. i know i should be grateful, but i just don't care right now. "
ALL REQUIEM IS LOST. Tatum remembered his church years and how those ceremonies were well organised and beautiful. The effort was there, the love, the extra care beyond life itself. He hated funerals, started to truly despise them after attending so many, and after understanding how many he was responsible for. Now there was no chance for requiems, no way to enter a church and see it happening, the goodbyes, the disclosure. Many things were left for imagination, and while Maggie had her way of dealing with that task, he preferred to stay away from it — any memories, any what ifs, any beautiful scenarios … Why bother? “ No way, Simpson, ” The nickname was automatic by now, “ you will need to pay me to listen to this audiobook. ” A single stare from her and he pleaded innocence, both hands coming up, clean palms showing. “ Okay, okay, my bad. Anywhere right now? But still leaving through all this shit? Probably an island somewhere, cuz, well, ya know, that’s where the rich are. ” Not a conspiracy theory, just the truth. His index finger pointed to the sky. “ Or up there. Mars, or whatever. I’d still pick a nice island though. I visited the Maldives once, have you ever been there? It looks like a movie. ”
𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙼𝚂 𝚃𝙾 possess a strange ability to cheer her up, intentionally or not, the nickname he calls her spurring a laugh that escapes quicker than she can stifle it, quiet but incredulous. like she didn't realize she still had the energy for laughter. but still, she wants an answer, levels him with a look that he easily reads. " the maldives ? " she repeats, brows raised, tone saying more than she could ever. " no, i've never been to the maldives. i wish. i barely traveled. i was too busy with ... the pursuit of knowledge to bother with the pursuit of lived experience. " its cynical, but truthful. she'd been so wrapped up in academia that somewhere along the way, she'd lost sight of what she really wanted for herself. had always thought there would be more time to see the world. " i wish. i always wanted to go to iceland, or hike across new zealand — start at the top and hike all the way to the southern tip. but … guess that ship has sailed. " she shrugs, omits the fact the trip was supposed to be her honeymoon, a promised trip that never happened because the world had ended first. " mars would be cool, though. wonder if the billionaires are up there right now, laughing at us. "
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙴𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝙳 gone cold hours ago, but maggie keeps sipping it anyway. the dining table has disappeared under dozens of printed research papers — color-coded, annotated, memorized — scattered across its surface, laptop open to a dissertation proposal glaring incessantly into tired eyes. five weeks until her comprehensive examination … at this point, studying has become second-nature, a worthy distraction from loneliness, grieving someone who was very much alive. gage was leaving soon. not for deployment this time, but for a trail. the hike he’s been dreaming about at least as long as she's known him. she's happy for him, undoubtedly, but she hates that it still stings. after years of waiting for him to come home, it's hard not to feel left behind. by choice, this time.
𝙼𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙸𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝚁 peripheral vision momentarily startles her before she remembers she's not alone. for now, at least. as gage wanders in from the hallway, she instinctively closes her laptop halfway and looks over at him, not taking any spare second for granted. a small smile breaks upon her face, tired but genuine. “sorry,” she mutters breathlessly, motioning to the chaos spread across the table, “ i'll clean this up later, i promise. ” she hardly ever uses the table for meals, had long ago gotten used to eating standing up at the counter — it was easier than setting the table for one. maggie leans back in her chair and pulls her knees up to her chest, fingertips fidgeting absentmindedly with the thin gold band wrapped around her left ring finger. “ how’s trail prep going ? hopefully the snow isn't too bad — and that adonis doesn't complain too much about it. ”
STATUS ⸻ CLOSED STARTER @m0urningskies
LOCATION ⸻ SAINT MARLOWE MEDICAL CENTER, COMMUNITY 02.
Amara had decided there was something uniquely depressing about folding somebody else’s abandoned laundry at the end of the world. Not that she was complaining. Technically. Clean clothes were clean clothes, and the handful of people who’d spent the afternoon hauling water and scrubbing everything by hand deserved better than finding their hard work dumped in a wrinkled pile. Which was how Amara had ended up sitting cross-legged on top of one of the tables in what used to be a staff break room, sorting shirts into increasingly questionable categories.
Wearable. Wearable if desperate. Absolutely fucking not. She held up a bright orange T-shirt with LAS VEGAS: I REGRET NOTHING stamped across the front and stared at it for several seconds. ❝You know what?❞ she muttered, mostly to herself. ❝Maybe the apocalypse did us one favor.❞ A sound from the doorway had her glancing up, the offending shirt still dangling from her fingers. ❝Please tell me you’re here to take some of these before I start burning things.❞
𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴 many downsides to existing as part of a community, there were undeniably perks, too ... ones which she hadn't had on her own before joining the compound. one of those small pleasures ? clean clothing. she'd arrived with dirt in every pore and likely reeking, but now could pass for somewhat clean. never again would she complain about having chores when it meant small luxuries were gained. maggie enters the break room, flexing sore hands, and pulls up a chair before a pile of clothing.
“ 𝚆𝙾𝚆 … ” 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙽𝙾𝙳𝚂, taking in the neon fabric currently assaulting her eyes. " if we ever need to send someone out to be a decoy, i think we've found their outfit. “ it was a horrible thought, sacrificing one of their own, but hey — whatever it took to survive. “ kind of. i volunteered for folding duty, “ she states in response to amara's inquiry. “ and, if i'm honest, i want to check out the clean clothing options. there's this flannel shirt i had from before, and i need it back. i saw that lady, the one who looks and sounds kinda' like jennifer coolidge ? ” another downside of community living : existing alongside eccentric folk. ” i don't know what her name is, and i don't want to know — " it's easier that way, not getting attached, " — anyway, doesn't matter. she was wearing my shirt last week, and i want it back. " fingers work quickly, plucking decent-enough t-shirts from the pile and beginning to fold. " not saying we should sacrifice her, but it would be funny to see her walking around in that vegas shirt, " mischevious suggestion, a small smile crossing her lips as she glances up at amara.
𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙸𝙴 𝙱𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚂 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙳, trying to clear the exhaustion that weighs heavy on her eyelids. this had become routine — with daily tasks wrapped up and the evening meal not quite ready, she finds herself outside. sometimes, if she was feeling creative enough that day, she could pretend she was free: surrounded by flowers on a mountain range, listening to the roar of the pacific ocean as it sent mighty waves crashing against the shore, feeling the warmth of a loved one's touch. these only existed in memories now, and on days like today her imagination isn't quite powerful enough, spirits not quite high enough to muster the effort pretending would require. she'd spent the night before tossing and turning, halfway between nightmarish slumber and even more nightmarish consciousness. at the very least, maggie remains grateful for the evening breeze, the warmth of sun of skin as it begins its descent over the mountain ranges. the military personnel usually leave her alone, both empathetic and otherwise occupied. can tell that she's lost in thought, unreachable. but that doesn't mean her fellow survivors do the same … and sure enough, maggie can feel a community member's presence nearby.
“ 𝙸𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 be anywhere right now, where would you want to be ? ” she asks them, not bothering to tear her gaze from their nightly scan of the surrounding streets. “ i always thought there would be more time to travel, to see the world. nope ! now i'm stuck daydreaming about it. forever, probably. tell me about somewhere else — anywhere but here. i need new material. ”
✟ » STATUS … OPEN (0/4)
✟ » LOCATION … SAINT MARLOWE (THE OUTPATIENT WAITING ROOM)
each member of the community was expected to visit the outpatient waiting room at least twice a day. once in the morning to pick up any new assignments for the day and once in the evening to stay up to date with any new information or changes taking place. drew was one of those who frequented the space more often than most, even when they had memorized inventory numbers, names, and who was supposed to be assigned to what task. there was always this lingering sense of urgency, like things could go wrong at any minute and they had to be there before it happened.
the names of the lost ones kept adding up on the whiteboard, only contributing to the inner dread and helplessness silently shared by the entire community. it certainly did not help to spend every free waking moment staring at the board, wishing for the increasing list of names of those who did not return to disappear. the sound of a door's creaking hinges announced the entrance of another. ❝ the list keeps increasing each day. at this rate we'll soon be losing more than we're receiving. ❞ drew observed out loud while staring ahead at the whiteboard.
the most recent name, only yesterday added to the list, stood out the most to them. ❝ remember the boy they brought in a couple of weeks ago? roy? he was still so young, so [ … ] full of life, ❞ they tilted their head then, looking to the side at a fellow member of saint marlowe. ❝ he did not believe we are safe here. that's the last thing he told me before he went missing. ❞ drew could not bring themselves to declare the boy dead. if everyone who no longer was at saint marlowe were to be pronounced dead, the inner motivations and hope within the community would shatter. they could not afford to take away one of the last reasons for everyone to keep moving. ❝ did you know [ … ] anyone among those recently added to the list? ❞ a pair of eyes shifted from the other person back to the whiteboard.
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 that passes, the more despondent maggie is beginning to feel. she admires those among the community who still believe in hope, in a future worth building. at the same time, she finds them aggravating — what future ? what could possibly be salvaged from the wreckage that had become the new normal ? she usually tries to keep to herself because of her attitude — knows it's not useful. detrimental, in fact, to be a storm cloud raining on the community's morale. but here and there, the loneliness becomes too heavy, the grief of mourning loved ones whose fate she couldn't possibly know, so she finds herself pushing into the outpatient room, arms folded tightly across chest.
𝙸𝙵 𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙸𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚂 in search of light conversation, it was evident she wasn't going to find it with drew. sidling up next to them, maggie can't bring herself to look at the whiteboard, gaze glued to her shoes, the fear of seeing familiar names leads to a nausea that threats to make her waste rations. " no. i don't remember roy. " she says, simply. of course she did — he'd been a sweet kid, had even managed to make her laugh once or twice. but compartmentalizing was easier than remembering. maggie finds her way into a waiting room sofa, back to the wall, and stares up at the ceiling. " did you know anyone on there ? " she deflects, doesn't want to consider names that potentially had faces attached. “ i don't like to look at it. makes me sick. ”
is that MAGGIE MERCER-REYNOLDS ? before the outbreak, the TWENTY SEVEN-year-old worked as a GRADUATE STUDENT & BIOLOGIST. those who have crossed paths with them describe them as LEVEL-HEADED, though pressure often reveals their DESPONDENT nature. they are often associated with WATER-DAMAGED SPECIES IDENTIFICATION NOTEBOOKS, DARK EYES STARING OFF IN THOUGHT, THE SOUND OF RAIN ON A TIN ROOF, PATCHWORK FLANNEL SHIRTS, PRAYING FOR THE BEST BUT EXPECTING FOR WORST. ( based in community 2 ! )
𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦 … full name: margaret ‘ maggie ‘ elise mercer - reynolds. // nicknames: maggie , mags ( to those close to her ) , magoo ( to her father ) . age & dob: 27, august 30 1998. // gender & pronouns: ciswoman & she/her. // orientation: heteroromantic, bicurious // hometown: santa barbara, ca. moved to los angeles, ca. at age 14. // former occupation: phd candidate & plant biologist. // education: bsc biology & environmental science, stanford university; msc biology, stanford university; phd candidate, ecology, ucla (unfinished).
𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗟 … positive traits: level-headed, honest, self-assured, resourceful, disciplined, practical, courageous, competent, reliable. // negative traits: despondent, pessimistic, blunt, stubborn, hyper-independent, emotionally avoidant, self-destructive, hard to read. // greatest fear: becoming the reason someone else dies. // biggest flaw: she keeps functioning long after she should ask for help. // secret talent: can draw a remarkably accurate map from memory. // habits: counts paces unconsciously while walking in unfamiliar territory, apologizes to plants before cutting them and thanks wildlife before killing them, bites her nails when anxious (which is constantly, these days....) // research focus: post-disturbance ecosystem resilience, specializing in decentralized water purification ststems that can sustain human and wildlife populations after infrastrcutre failure. skills: water purification, cartography, plant identification, wildlife tracking, orienteering, field first aid, backpacking, foraging, ecological surveying, GIS mapping, basic firearm proficiency.
𝗣𝗛𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 … height: 5'7". // faceclaim: chase infiniti. // eyes: hazel. // hair: black, natural, usually tied back with a dirty bandana. // defining physical features: nearly always has a serious, ‘ don’t - fuck with - me ‘ look on her face; bitten nails; pierced ear lobes, a small gold hoop in one ear (the other earring was lost soemwhere along the journey); keeps a hunting knife tucked in her belt at all times; thin, scratched gold wedding band on left ring finger; athletic frame from outdoor field work but not necessarily muscular due to a limited diet thanks to the apocalype !
𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬 … mother: dr. amaya mercer, coastal plant biologist. father: dr. travis mercer, professor at ucla. // siblings: tbd. // partner: gage mercer, husband.
PRE - APOCALYPSE …
margaret mercer — ‘ maggie ’ to everyone except her mother — was raised in santa barbara, ca, the daughter of two biologists and university professors. her childhood was spent tide pooling at dawn, collecting specimens, tending the family greenhouse, and reading research papers far beyond her grade level. she was brilliant, curious, and a lifelong know-it-all, but never one to make others feel lesser — instead, she became the person who could make complicated things finally make sense. at age fourteen, her parents accepted positions in los angeles which she quickly adapted to, tutoring her peers in biology, chemistry, and advanced sciences, all while keeping her sights set on pursuing her own career in plant biology and ecology.
as an adult, maggie followed in her parents’ footsteps, dedicating herself to research and education focused on ecology, human adaptation, and environmental systems. she felt that knowledge was meant to be shared, not hidden behind paywalls and academic titles. despite her career ambitions, she was always happiest outdoors, surrounded by living things and chasing questions no one had answered yet.
the one thing maggie never managed to make sense of was gage. they met in los angeles as teenagers: a football player and a science nerd who seemed completely different on paper, but somehow fit together anyway. their relationship was never easy — years of distance, bad timing, and growing up kept pulling them apart. her life was rooted in the chapperal hills of california, research labs, and classrooms; his was dictated by military orders and deployments. maggie tried to move on. she dated people who made sense on paper, who were stable, available, and everything she thought she wanted. but no matter how much sense someone else made, her mind always returned to gage. when he eventually proposed, she surprised herself by saying yes — not because she didn't love him entirely ( that was the problem ) … but because a small part of her wondered if she was choosing familiarity over certainty, if they were truly meant to build a life together. still, maggie believed some things were worth risking everything for.
POST- APOCALYPSE …
at first, maggie refused to accept that the world was actually changing. she was preparing for her comps — the examinations which confirmed she was worthy of representing the discipline at such an elite level — when the first reports began spreading. gage was away on a hiking trip, unreachable, and every logical part of her brain insisted there had to be an explanation. health crises happened all the time, so this one was probably no different…
when her parents and gage's family arrived at her doorstep, she treated it like an overreaction — an uncomfortable but temporary precaution … but then the power became unreliable, stores emptied, neighbors turned desperate… eventually, she found herself standing in front of the gun cabinet she had spent years teasing gage about maintaining, realizing that the person who always seemed overly prepared had been the only one who understood what was coming.
when her family decided they needed to leave, maggie refused to go without him. they stayed twenty four hours longer before it took a violent attempt to breach their neighborhood and the realization that staying would put everyone else at risk before she finally agreed to leave. before they departed, she left a note on the windshield: “headed northwest with our families. remember our call. be safe.” the reality of the situation devastated her, but she refused to believe that gage wouldn't come home, wouldn't find the note, wouldn't find her again, one day. so she gathered the most important items — divided the guns amongst the families, collected her useful field work gear, donned her field work clothes, and the group set off.
the journey north fractured their group. somewhere along the way she became separated from her parents and gage’s family, and decided to disappear into the wilderness. at first, she told herself it was temporary — that she would find them again, that she simply needed to survive long enough to reunite. but the days passed and still she remained solo. having studied ecosystems her entire life meant that she was prepared to identify safe water sources, recognize edible plants, track animals, preserve food, and understood the landscape well enough to survive. she built temporary shelters, moved with the weather, and learned how to exist quietly enough that danger passed her by.
but survival alone came with a cost. maggie could keep herself alive, but she couldn't escape the loneliness. every discovery she made, every new plant she identified, every scientific question she answered, she found herself wanting someone to share it with. eventually, she crossed paths with the survivors occupying an abandoned hospital. at first, she had no interest in joining them. groups meant conflict, uncertainty, and dependence — everything she had spent months avoiding. but the hospital was different. they weren’t just surviving day-to-day; they were trying to rebuild. she knew that, while groups had their cons, they also had their benefits — namely, safety, protection, and companionship. plus, maybe gage could find her easier if she wasn't spending all her time trying to be invisible. so she decided to set down roots at the hospital. for the first time since the world ended, she found herself surrounded by people who reminded her of what she had lost — a community, a purpose, and a reason to believe survival could mean more than simply staying alive.
PERSONALITY …
maggie has the general vibe of someone who is deeply angry about something they refuse to explain … a quiet, simmering frustration that follows her everywhere, even when she insists she’s fine. before the apocalypse, she was curious, warm, and a little too eager to share what she knew with anyone willing to listen, the kind of person who stopped to admire a flower, got excited when new research papers were published, and believed there was always something worth learning. that part of her still exists, but its buried deep beneath everything she has lost.
now, survival has made her thick-skinned, sharper, more guarded, and far less willing to trust. she is stubborn to a fault, fiercely independent, and often pushes people away before they can hurt her first. beneath the hard edges, however, maggie is deeply empathetic — she will quietly notice someone struggling and help in ways they don't need to thank her for. she understands grief, fear, and loneliness because she carries all three with her at all times. she laughs less than she used to, but when she does, it’s genuine — a brief glimpse of the woman she was before the world ended. maggie is cunning, but not manipulative. compassionate, but not gentle.
WANTED CONNECTIONS …
𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 ... people maggie knew from before the apocalypse … either in childhood in santa barbara , her youth in los angeles ( maybe teachers, family friends, students she used to tutor in science, etc etc), colleagues from science-y stuff, etc !!!
𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬 ... i would LOVE to find some plots that feel familial in nature … especially parent / child vibes, siblings vibes, annoying ‘ uncle / aunt / niece ' vibe where they tease one another constantly but know that its all love, etc…
𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 ... someone maggie met post-apocalypse that she's now become entirely dependent and connected to … they know her history, her relationship status, her tells, her pros and cons, and she knows theirs. she trusts them implicitly and can't picture her life at this point without them.
' 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗗 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗜'𝗠 𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗕𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ‘ ... at one point, your muse saved maggie or she saved your muse ( we can workshop how it happened ) . now, because of that, they have a connection between them that they don’t quite understand but they can't deny. she trusts them and they trust her.
𝗠𝗨𝗧𝗨𝗔𝗟 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 ... conflict seems to follow maggie and your muse … they always disagree with the others ideas, they can't stand when the other is talking, etc etc . for some reason they don't get along and it becomes everyone else's problem …
𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗦 ... maybe they're friends, maybe not. whatever the deal is, your muse knows they can come to maggie to pour their heart out and vice versa. maggie tries hard not to cry, and keeps everything bottled up 95% of the time behind a hardened mask … but for some reason your muse knows exactly what to say to get her to let off steam, and vice versa.
' 𝗪𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗗𝗜𝗗 , 𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗪𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗡'𝗧 ‘ … your muse and maggie grew close over the months they've spent surviving together, taking comfort in eachother while feeling painfully alone. maggie desperately misses having someone to lean on, and somewhere in the late-night conversations, shared grief, and becoming each other's first person to turn to, the lines started to blur and they almost crossed a line that couldn't be walked back (like almost kissed or something … idk we can figure it out hehe ). maggie had to actively remind herself that despite everything, she was still married, even if she didn't know whether her husband is alive or not. now things are awkward, but neither of them can deny the mutual care they have for one another.
areudirty
gracieabrams
gummygunk
ellievsbear
stormborns
titsay
