Countless Days in Hell

This is Malcolm Warner's account for the Walking Dead Rpg group. *Tent 10 *Defense

[trishcloves]

Come and get it OPEN

[malcolm-warner]

Mac followed a few others into a congregated room filled with the smells of Italy. Okay, so maybe it was just a hint of tomato paste, but he was amazed at how much he missed the smell of a home cooked meal. The kids leading the group seemed all too proud of their concoction and Mac couldn’t help but smile at the adorable young ones. He knew there had to be someone else behind the dinner though; there was no way in hell a 7 year old nonetheless anyone younger than that knew how to cook spaghetti without ruining it somewhere along the way. 

As he furthered himself into the packed room, he made out the figure behind the boiling pots. It was Trish. How on earth could this woman get any better? She must’ve been reading his mind because he was about to pass out from hunger from not eating since he woke up that morning. He was working the fields with Rick trying to buddy-up with the leader to get on his good side. 

Mac waltzed his way over to the food. Not the mess ready to be dished out on the table, but to the fresh pasta still being tended by the cook. “Look at you, making dinner for everybody and keeping the children out of trouble. What’s got your maternal instincts going today?” Mac schmoozed watching Trish stir the remaining food in the pot. 

[trishcloves]

Trish was absentmindedly mixing the pasta and watching the group eat.  They seemed to be enjoying what she had made.  She wanted to obsessively ask them if the food was OK but managed to suppress the urge.  She looked down to the pasta when she heard Mac’s voice.  She tensed slightly and felt her heart jump.  She laughed nervously.  ”My maternal instincts?”  She looked towards the kids that had helped her cook dinner.  They were happily eating their own food and getting messy.  ”Ah, I mean.  They’re cute right?  I love kids.  I always wanted my own family so this is probably the best I’ll get.”  She grabbed a dish and doled Mac out his meal.  ”Everyone needs to eat and I can cook.”  She shrugged.  ”Just kinda makes sense.  I’m pretty useless otherwise.”  She handed him the plate and finally looked at him.  Her heart jumped again, which annoyed her.  Are you serious right now Trish.  Come on.  The guy is not interested.  This is just pathetic. He’s got to be gay.  I’m sure of it.  You’re stupid.  He’s not gay.  He’s just not blind.  He’s just nice.  Absolutely pathetic.  Her heart began to pound as her thoughts overwhelmed her.  She shook her head to make them stop.  The voices were much worse here at the safe camp, when she was able to let her mind relax a little.  She looked at Dakota again.  The girl had gotten sauce in her brown hair but didn’t care a bit.  Each noodle was being eaten individually with her fingers.  Trish smiled and took a deep breath.  Her body relaxed and she looked back at Mac.  ”So… what do you think?  About the food I mean.”

[malcolm-warner]

Mac laughed at his, what he now realized was stupid, remark. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I always wanted to be a father," he looked down at the children making a mess with their food. He was wary not to get too close to them, knowing the mothers wouldn't feel comfortable with their children being around a stranger. If Trish was able to though, maybe it wasn't such an abstract idea. 

He looked down at the dish Trish was preparing, hoping it was for him. He was hungry and pasta most definitely would hit the spot. "Makes perfect sense," he said as he received the plate graciously. He remained standing, wasting no time before digging in. There wasn't much more room at the table anyway, and he wanted to stay with Trish. Mac choked down the last mouthful of food that he took so he could answer her question. "Good, good. For an apocalypse this is some pretty damn good food!" Mac hesitated taking another bite remembering he should probably savor the taste instead of wolfing it down. Whenever he was presented food, his body just went into survival mode. "I think you've done enough cooking for now, get yourself some food. You deserve it," Mac insisted as he looked into her eyes with affirmation. 

[trishcloves]

Come and get it OPEN

Trish walked around the camp, looking for where the kids congregated.  She saw three kids sitting together on the ground, passing a ball between them.  “Hey kids!”  She said walking over to them.  They all looked up at her quizzically.  She bent low towards them and smiled sweetly.  “My name is Trish.”  She scrunched her nose, “I’m kinda new here.  I thought it would be fun to make a really yummy meal for everybody here.  Do you guys think that sounds fun?”  They seemed to be considering her.  One girl, looking to be the eldest nodded thoughtfully.  “I guess so.”  She stood up and wiped her hands on her pants.  The other children followed suit.  “I’m Jean, this is Owen, and this is Dakota.”  She had a slight bossy tone in her voice that amused Trish.  Clearly this girl, no older than 7, was the leader of this little group.  “Well, it’s good to meet all of you.  Come on, let’s go make somethin’ good.”  She waved them closer and began walking towards the welcome building.  On the way, Dakota, a girl of maybe 3 or 4 years with big brown eyes and long brown hair skipped.  “Umm, Trish, whadd-er we makin’?”  Trish grinned.  “I’ll show you.”  Owen kept his hands in his pockets and walked quickly to keep up, with his head down. 

They all walked inside the building and into the kitchen area.  Trish had put all of the necessary ingredients together on the counter.  Dakota gasped.  “Are we makin’ pas-a-sagetti?”  Jean looked over the ingredients.  “No, there’s no pasta sauce.”  Trish laughed.  “Actually, we are making spaghetti.  Real spaghetti is made like this - no sauce in jars.”  She directed Jean to find some pots and pans, which she did quickly.  Dakota was touching all of the ingredients, asking questions about them.  Owen whispered the answers to her, “that’s a spice… it’s called oregano… I don’t know it’s a plant… that’s tomatoes…”  There were no measuring cups or spoons to be found, so Trish made a mental note that finding those would be necessary for next time.  She didn’t actually need them, but she was eager to teach the kids some math.  She clapped and rubbed her hands together.  “Alright, let’s get these hands washed and get cookin’!”

[trishcloves]

After she helped the kids to properly wash their hands, she began delegating orders.  “Ok Jean, can you fill up these two big pots about halfway with water?”  Jean immediately rushed off to complete her task. Trish grabbed a large, clean knife near the sink and said seriously,  “ok watch out please.”  She figured there wasn’t a can opener, so she jammed the knife into one can and maneuvered it so a big enough hole was formed.  She did the same to the other 2 cans and instructed Owen to pour all of the contents into the remaining pot.  Jean reemerged holding a large heavy pot close to her.  Trish quickly grabbed it and placed it on the stove while Jean left to bring the other pot back.  Trish pointed to the controls for the stove.  “Dakota, you see this one here?  We are going to turn it all the way so that the water can boil.  Can you do that to both of these knobs?”  Dakota nodded and did so.  Jean returned again lugging the other pot of water.  She heaved it into Trish’s hands, who placed it on another burner.  She instructed Owen to get a spoon, and began letting the group pour small amounts of spice into the pot with canned tomatoes and sauce.  Owen mixed the sauce while Jean poured dry noodles into both boiling pots of water. 

Soon the room was filling with the rich scents of tomato and spice.  Everyone had a part in stirring, tasting, and eventually draining the cooked pasta.  Owen helped himself to a few extra tasting of sauce, and smiled sheepishly when Trish noticed.  Finally, the food was done.  Trish grabbed a large stack of plates and set them near the stove.  She told the kids to inform everyone that dinner was ready.  Of course, all three kids ran to all corners of the camp, telling people to hurry up and come to eat.  Trish took a taste of the completed sauce.  It wasn’t something she would be happy with pre-outbreak, but for the supplies she had, it was pretty darn good.  She figured that the group would enjoy a good hot meal.  People were beginning to make their way into the building, many with curious expressions.  She happily made up plates of the steaming pasta and sauce for each person as they approached.  

[malcolm-warner]

Mac followed a few others into a congregated room filled with the smells of Italy. Okay, so maybe it was just a hint of tomato paste, but he was amazed at how much he missed the smell of a home cooked meal. The kids leading the group seemed all too proud of their concoction and Mac couldn't help but smile at the adorable young ones. He knew there had to be someone else behind the dinner though; there was no way in hell a 7 year old nonetheless anyone younger than that knew how to cook spaghetti without ruining it somewhere along the way. 

As he furthered himself into the packed room, he made out the figure behind the boiling pots. It was Trish. How on earth could this woman get any better? She must've been reading his mind because he was about to pass out from hunger from not eating since he woke up that morning. He was working the fields with Rick trying to buddy-up with the leader to get on his good side. 

Mac waltzed his way over to the food. Not the mess ready to be dished out on the table, but to the fresh pasta still being tended by the cook. "Look at you, making dinner for everybody and keeping the children out of trouble. What's got your maternal instincts going today?" Mac schmoozed watching Trish stir the remaining food in the pot. 

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

All Along The Watchtower | OPEN |

[malcolm-warner]

"Well good! See, as long as you got someone there for you," Mac felt for this guy and he seemed nice enough. When he asked about his own family, Malcolm had to think back a little. How does one even begin to describe the people they grew up with for 18 years plus?

"I mean, I had a dad and two brothers. I guess technically I had a mom too but since my parents split, we just sort of disconnected. She wasn’t a big impact on my life," Mac managed to recollect his memories verbally. "Hell, I’m not even from around here. I grew up in the mountains in upstate New York. I never made it up there to say goodbye to them all before… before all this.” He couldn’t beat Pocket’s story, but was it possible to tell a story from past lives without it deviating to something really depressing? No one wanted to remember anymore. A few might say that they do, but in reality, no one wants to be haunted with thoughts of what used to be and what life will never be again. Mac didn’t have anything special to get back to in his old life. His laptop and his 6-pack of beer was probably still waiting for him at his house in Tallahassee. Nothing he cared about anymore. All Mac was concerned with what was right here and right now.

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

Pockets listened politely, and he couldn’t help but envy the man. It made him happy that the things that had happened in his household weren’t the normal standard, but he couldn’t help but get jealous when he heard the stories of happy families. He hoped that Malcolm’s family was safe up there in the mountains. He imagined that they probably were; isolated, lots of vegetation and game, treacherous falls to prevent the clumsy from climbing their way up. Chances looked good from that perspective. “Unless they abandoned the mountains, they might still be okay,” he offered. “I mean, less likely something got to them.”

He wondered for maybe the third time since he’d run away if his father was gone. He felt no pull of worry in his gut, and it made him feel cold inside. He honestly didn’t care if the man was dead; how pathetic was that? The family that had adopted him had all been gone for some time, so there was no hope there either. At least there was hope for this group, so he held to that.

[malcolm-warner]

Mac couldn't give himself any bit of hope that his family was still alive. That would just make him go crazy. Everyone he once loved and cared for at one point of his life were now gone. It was inevitable. "I tried making my way up there but cars with no gas can only get you so far. I realized I couldn't go it alone so wherever the group I was staying with went, I went. The drive I had to go find my family just kind of disappeared. My drive to live took it over," Mac said stretching his arm  behind him to rub the back of his neck.

"So, uh, you just sit up here by your lonesome and watch out for intruders or what?" he asked Pockets feeling like there must be something more to this guy's day then just sitting around in a guard tower.

[malcolm-warner]

Morning Chores // Mac and Trish

[malcolm-warner]

The fact that she didn’t want him leaving without her made him feel warm inside. This is a girl that didn’t want to leave his sight and it wasn’t even remotely annoying. He loved it. This made his smile widen as she proposed relaxing by the fire. “Sure thing. That sounds really good now,” he said, guiding her outside. He wanted to find a darker shirt, knowing how fast a white shirt would take to get dirty, but the selection was very limited. Looking around the closet, he picked up an army green shirt. He slipped it on and contemplated whether he needed a jacket or not. Even with the chilly temperatures outside, he wasn’t cold and he knew the fire would keep him warm. That’s when he noticed Trish’s bare arms. Mac knew how much girls complained about being cold. “We should get you a jacket if you’re going outside, I know you don’t want to wear that dirty one of yours” he said while rummaging through stacks of clothes. “You know, I can’t find any here, but I think I know where I might be able to.”

Mac lead her into the welcome center and opened what he thought looked like a coat closet. “Ah ha. There’s plenty here for you to take one,” Mac said as he fingered through the heavy military coats. As she made her selection, Mac spotted a fire already going right outside in the yard with a few people gathered around. He wanted to get closer to the rest of the group, so he felt this was a nice opportunity. 

As they walked outside, Trish followed his way over to an available log by the warmth. They sat side by side staring at the mesmerizing glow of the fire. Everyone else seemed to be having side conversations. No one telling ghost stories or playing the guitar. That’s how it usually went on his camping trips with his family. They were a unit that stuck together through everything; where the woods were an adventure. He didn’t turn his head too far to look at Trish who was cozying up right beside him. “Is the fire warm enough for ya?” he asked her with care, feeling the brisk night breeze against the left side of his body that did not have the support of the young woman.

[trishcloves]

After Mac put on a shirt, he decided that Trish needed a coat.  He opened up a closet to show a small variety of over-sized heavy coats.  It wasn’t quite the shopping trip she was so adept at, but it was a little fun to have a choice of what to wear.  She pulled the least military-ish one she could find and pulled it on.  The two walked outside to the fire and sat next to each other on a log.  Conversations around the campfire were quiet.  That plus the sound of the crackling fire was like a lullaby.  She took a deep breath in through her nose.  Mac asked her if the fire was warm enough.  The fire plus the heavy coat was definitely enough to make her cozy.  She kept moving to hug Mac’s arm and lean her head down, but she fought the desire off.  ”Oh yeah, this is really nice.”  She saw that his opposite arm was glowing in the firelight, and she could make out goosebumps.  She rolled her eyes, what was it with guys and acting like weather didn’t affect them?  As he made no move to get up for a jacket or even to rub the arm, she figured he may be a little proud, and let him keep up the charade.  ”My homemade hot cocoa would be so perfect right now.  You would love it.”  She moved into him as close as possible.  ”If I had my guitar right now I would play, but that’s not really something I thought necessary to grab when I left.”  She thought for a second what would be at her house if she ever made her way back.  Would people have rummaged it?  Would anything even be left?  

The lullaby of sounds was making it hard for Trish to keep her eyes open.  The eyelids were so heavy, that she let them close for a few seconds at a time.  Her head dropped for a second and she snapped back awake.  She looked towards the tent and noticed how far it seemed away.  Her head dropped again, and she awoke immediately shaking her head.  She gave in, scooting a bit over, hugging Mac’s arm to her chest and laying her head in the cradle of his shower.  She breathed in deep, smelling the soap and shampoo he had used.  Her eyes closed, and she began breathing rhythmically.  She awoke only a few minutes later, her neck already getting sore.  She sat up straight, leaving one arm wrapped around his.  ”Mmm, I’m gonna head to bed.”  She sat up, pulling Mac with her.  Trish slowly trudged her way to her tent and stopped at the opening.  She turned around and smiled, having just a bit more energy from her little nap.  She gazed at Mac’s face, looking into his eyes and down at his lips.  ”Goodnight…”  

[malcolm-warner]

Mac enjoyed Trish's presence. Actually, he was sure that he wouldn't let her go if she wanted to leave for the night. In the moment, this was all he needed. Safe tranquility. He didn't have to worry about walkers since the fence was holding them back, and he didn't have any responsibilities for the rest of the night. Mac perked up when he heard a mention of hot chocolate. He smiled at the thought. "Heh. I'm sure I would," Mac felt Trish getting closer to him, if that was even possible, when she told him she wished she had her guitar. This girl knew how to play music and cook? This had to be some match sent from heaven. "Maybe we could find one on a supply run," Mac offered, making sure that they go through enough houses to find one. He wanted to hear what this girl was capable of.

Trish was fighting the urge to stay awake and it was quite noticeable... and cute. That's why Malcolm didn't do anything to encourage her. Luckily, she did give in as she rested her head on his shoulder, which fit perfectly. She was clearly uncomfortable in that position though and gave in to her desire to sleep. Mac was surprised when she pulled him up with her. He wouldn't have let her walk away without him anyway, but it was nice to see her showing initiative. She walked him over to her tent as Mac made a mental note that she was in number nine. As she turned to look at him, he noticed the look he was receiving. He recognized that familiar glance as the universal sign that a woman wants a kiss. Then again, if his brain deceived him, he wasn't sure if it was appropriate to give in and kiss her when he would be seeing her day in and day out for as long as both of them stay alive. He couldn't live with that amount of embarrassment this early on. Plus this girl was younger than him so he had to be the one to make the responsible decisions. Mac was pretty sure that she had feelings for him, but since women were so hard to read, he could never be sure. He declined any instinctual behaviors that he could act upon and briefly rubbed her back with his hand. "Sleep well. I'll be seeing you around tomorrow," Mac finalized as he left the girl to her bed. 

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

All Along The Watchtower | OPEN |

[malcolm-warner]

"Thanks for the offer, man. I’ve always wanted to raise a family, but hell, I guess it just wasn’t in the cards for me," Mac looked out over the prison yard and further down toward the fence seeing no sign of suspicious activity; just a few walkers scattered here and there. "Did you eventually find a family to adopt? I mean, I’m sure you must have; no one can stay lonely for long. We’ll go crazy doing that," Mac walked away from the view and stared at the floor, trying not to think about the solitude of the last few months before the end of the world disaster came about.

Mac felt bad for asking the kid such personal questions, but quite frankly, nowadays this information wasn’t so secretive. They were memories that would never come back. There’s nothing offensive about that because societal rules no longer exist. If the kid didn’t feel like sharing, then he made his answer brief, or he lied. It was that simple. Malcolm Warner was the type of man to spill his guts with nothing to hide; an open book most people would say. He was proud of who he was, even if he barely had anything to show off. 

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

Pockets nodded, though he couldn’t sympathize. The idea of having children seemed romantic, but he didn’t think he had the stuff to raise any to be functional human beings. A former prostitute and addict probably wasn’t high on the list of people suited to be parents, so perhaps this was just as well that he hadn’t had a family.

He smiled a little, remembering his family. “About six months after,” he answered. “Diamond, Sasha, Ace and Emerald. They… That was my family.” His smile over the memory of the pack of teenagers became sad, but he tried to hold on to the happy bits. They were his family. Not the typical family, no. No parents, but they cared like a family, and that’s all that had mattered to a skinny and hungry boy who lived in an abandoned car.

"What was your family like?" He asked the older male. It couldn’t possibly be like his own.

[malcolm-warner]

"Well good! See, as long as you got someone there for you," Mac felt for this guy and he seemed nice enough. When he asked about his own family, Malcolm had to think back a little. How does one even begin to describe the people they grew up with for 18 years plus?

"I mean, I had a dad and two brothers. I guess technically I had a mom too but since my parents split, we just sort of disconnected. She wasn't a big impact on my life," Mac managed to recollect his memories verbally. "Hell, I'm not even from around here. I grew up in the mountains in upstate New York. I never made it up there to say goodbye to them all before... before all this." He couldn't beat Pocket's story, but was it possible to tell a story from past lives without it deviating to something really depressing? No one wanted to remember anymore. A few might say that they do, but in reality, no one wants to be haunted with thoughts of what used to be and what life will never be again. Mac didn't have anything special to get back to in his old life. His laptop and his 6-pack of beer was probably still waiting for him at his house in Tallahassee. Nothing he cared about anymore. All Mac was concerned with what was right here and right now.

[malcolm-warner]

Morning Chores // Mac and Trish

[malcolm-warner]

Mac felt proud that he made the girl so happy. “Yep. No problem,” He smiled at Trish as she threw around the word love at him. Mac stood there looking like an idiot, waiting for some sort of response. When he got the okay, he perked up in interest as he grabbed the toiletries, which he got for himself back in the closet, out of his pant pockets. “Alright, I can’t argue with you there,” He agreed, keeping his composure. He headed to the opposite side of the showers and turned on the water to let it run so that he could reach an optimal temperature.

Once he found it, Mac stripped down to nothing making sure his clothes were tucked away were they wouldn’t get wet. His shirt he would surely throw away, but his jeans and boxers were not going in the trash anytime soon. As soon as he stepped underneath the stream of water, a sigh of relief left his mouth. He enjoyed every second of it. Making sure to focus solely on cleaning his own body, he couldn’t help but think about the girl showering just a few showers over from him. Don’t look over. Don’t look over. Stare at the wall. The testosterone running through his body alongside the hot water wasn’t doing him any justice… until he heard it. He swore that he heard her moan. His suspicions were confirmed once a few more sounds of pleasure came out from the blonde’s mouth. What the hell was she doing? Those were more than just sounds of relief from a good shower. Was she… touching herself?

He wrung his hands through his hair a few times and put his face in his hands for a few seconds trying to ignore his sexual urges. Mac didn’t know if he should go over there or… no. No. Of course not. He’s here to take a shower and that’s it. The fact that Trish was also here taking a shower in the same room was just for safety reasons. More strength in numbers. Right. Completely out of his free-will and to satisfy his curiosity, Mac took a quick glance at the woman standing under the shower head across the room. He caught a glimpse of her soft, wet body bent over the edge. In the perfect position for him to walk over to her right then and there just to grab her hips and give it to her as hard as she would let him. The temptation was too overwhelming for him as he drew his eyes away from the sight and rinsed off one more time after he scrubbed as much of the remaining grime off of his chest. He heard the water shut off next to him, so he followed in sync when he realized he didn’t set out a towel to dry off with. He wasn’t ashamed to walk across the room to pick up one of the clean towels in the stack, so he did just that taking one last quick peek at the woman’s body, now wrapped neatly in cloth. 

He knew not to break the sound barrier quite yet, so he silently continued to dry himself until he was able to slip on his dirty boxers. Mac wondered if he’d be able to get a hold of another pair so that he could wash the ones that he’s now had for months. It didn’t bother him so much at that moment, so he slipped on his dark jeans as well. Mac looked over at Trish once he felt that she was done dressing. He smiled at her, looking cute in military apparel which did not suit her style whatsoever. He let out a laugh as he walked toward her. “You look ready for battle,” Mac observed standing next to her in only his jeans. “I’m gonna go out in the hall to find a shirt,” 

[trishcloves]

While drying her hair in the towel, she heard the sound of Mac walking on the now wet floor.  With her head down, she glanced up to see his naked body move past her to the towels.  Water was dripping off his now clean body, and she could see his toned chest and arms.  Everything else is working too, she smirked.  He hadn’t said anything yet, so she figured he was so wrapped up in his own shower that he hadn’t heard anything she had been doing, thank God.  She was embarrassed about what had come over for her, but she didn’t regret it.  It had probably been about 2 years since she had done anything even remotely sexual.  Being with Mac would be great, but this was enough to soothe her for now.  She saw the wonderfully clean clothes and quickly took off her towel.  She put the cargo pants and t-shirt on without underwear or a bra, as she didn’t want anything dirty touching her.  The reddish-brown bra she had been wearing had originally been an off-white lacy number, and the bikini underwear had loose elastic and string coming from all seems.  No, she was going to revel in this clean feeling for as long as possible.  She had noticed some of the other girls doing laundry, and figured she could throw her dirty clothes in and put on undergarments later.  She made a mental note to add lingerie to the things-to-get-on-a-run list.  The clothes weren’t especially comfortable on her delicate skin, but it was incredible regardless. 

She heard Mac laugh and glanced up.  He had put on jeans, but still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Trish caught herself staring at his chest and stomach.  She didn’t know what it was, but she had always been intoxicated by a man’s trim torso.  Mac’s was no different.  He was muscular, but not so much that it was overwhelming.  Perfect, really.  She wished she could curl up next to him and have his arms wrapped tightly around her.  She craved the feeling of his skin on hers.  He told her she looked “ready for battle” to which Trish laughed.  Yeah, this is an odd outfit.  He said he would go to look for a shirt for himself.  She frowned, slightly hoping he would be unsuccessful.  She picked up her clothing and the comb she had dropped.  “I’ll come.  It’s getting kinda late, maybe we could chill at the fire before bed?”

[malcolm-warner]

The fact that she didn't want him leaving without her made him feel warm inside. This is a girl that didn't want to leave his sight and it wasn't even remotely annoying. He loved it. This made his smile widen as she proposed relaxing by the fire. "Sure thing. That sounds really good now," he said, guiding her outside. He wanted to find a darker shirt, knowing how fast a white shirt would take to get dirty, but the selection was very limited. Looking around the closet, he picked up an army green shirt. He slipped it on and contemplated whether he needed a jacket or not. Even with the chilly temperatures outside, he wasn't cold and he knew the fire would keep him warm. That's when he noticed Trish's bare arms. Mac knew how much girls complained about being cold. "We should get you a jacket if you're going outside, I know you don't want to wear that dirty one of yours" he said while rummaging through stacks of clothes. "You know, I can't find any here, but I think I know where I might be able to."

Mac lead her into the welcome center and opened what he thought looked like a coat closet. "Ah ha. There's plenty here for you to take one," Mac said as he fingered through the heavy military coats. As she made her selection, Mac spotted a fire already going right outside in the yard with a few people gathered around. He wanted to get closer to the rest of the group, so he felt this was a nice opportunity. 

As they walked outside, Trish followed his way over to an available log by the warmth. They sat side by side staring at the mesmerizing glow of the fire. Everyone else seemed to be having side conversations. No one telling ghost stories or playing the guitar. That's how it usually went on his camping trips with his family. They were a unit that stuck together through everything; where the woods were an adventure. He didn't turn his head too far to look at Trish who was cozying up right beside him. "Is the fire warm enough for ya?" he asked her with care, feeling the brisk night breeze against the left side of his body that did not have the support of the young woman.

[malcolm-warner]

Morning Chores // Mac and Trish

[malcolm-warner]

Mac rubbed his hands together after putting his weapon down when Trish announced the end of their work. Blood covering his clothes and the back of his hands, he was more then ready for a refreshing shower. While they proceeded to walk past the bunkers toward the welcome center, Mac felt some blood on his face and neck as well. He wished he wasn’t such a pussy about getting dirty, but at least he was able to hide his disgust well. At least that’s what he thought. 

Mac only remembered seeing the men’s shower room, so he was curious where Trish was headed since she was going in the same direction. As they reached the end of the hallway, he realized that there was no men’s shower room-it was co-ed. It was suddenly obvious how uncomfortable Trish was and Mac felt the urge to leave her alone and take his shower later, despite the strong desire to clean up as soon as possible. “I can leave; really. Enjoy yourself. I can go to the closet to find us some clean clothes. I’ll find something pretty for you to wear if you’d like,” Mac replied to the awkwardness with no hesitation, leaving Trish with no room to answer. 

He unlocked the door and rushed into the hall toward where he thought the closet was. He respected her privacy and he was going to be a gentleman about it… no matter how badly he wanted to get in that shower with her. Pursuing women had no focus in this day of age where survival was so unlikely… but damn, it would be a nice perk to get close to a female whilst protecting each other in this apocalypse.

There were a few options of clean clothes, but nothing pretty by any means. This was a military base after all… Mac selected a white tee that seemed like it would fit pretty snug and the smallest size of cargo pants he could find. As for undergarments, he was no clue where he would even begin to look. He figured it wouldn’t be worth his time to start that search because it would come off as a tad creepy to be picking out a girl’s panties that he only met a week ago. 

When he got back to the showers to deliver the clothes, the door was wide open and he found Trish looking around the area for soap. Anxious to help, Mac hurried to the closet again and picked up a bar that he remembered seeing on the top rack along with some travel-size shampoo and conditioners and a comb. Handing the supplies to her, he found himself reluctant to leave and figured he’d give her the option instead. “I guess I’ll go now… unless you’d just want me to shower at the far end away from you… You know, for security; if something bad were to happen? I mean, whatever works,” Mac left his offer open for her to interpret however she felt best. 

[trishcloves]

Before she was able to say anything, Mac had left the room to find her something pretty and clean to wear. Pretty? She wondered what he meant by that. It struck her as odd for some reason but she figured he just meant that he wanted to find her women’s clothes. She wondered if anything like that would even be here. She stood for a few seconds,  not sure what to do. Was Mac coming back into the room? Should she take a shower now or wait for him to return? She decided to look around the room to see if there was any soap. While looking, Mac came back in the room but immediately ran back out. What in the world? He came back again and handed her a pile of clothes, some soap, and shampoo and conditioner. He said he would leave unless she wanted him to stay and shower at the opposite end of the showers. She barely heard him as she clutched the pile with wide sparkling eyes. “Clean clothes, soap,  AND shampoo?  Are you freaking kidding me? Oh my god I love you so much right now!”

She carefully placed the clothes by the towels and placed the toiletries on the ledge by a shower head at the far end of the showers. She then came back to earth and realized what Mac had said.  What did she want him to do? She didn’t want to be so vulnerable. She really didn’t want to shower with him, but she was also terrified of being alone and unsafe in this big room alone. Anyone could come in. Anything could happen and she knew she would be unable to protect herself. So which mattered more: holding onto a sense of modesty, or protection? Put that way,  the decision was simple: he would have to stay. She suddenly became aware that Mac was in fact the last person she wanted to see her naked right now,  since that meant something to her. She wanted him to eventually see all of her, and her him. But not in this context. With anyone else, this would be different. It would just be a shower, a necessity. She had been standing there, silent, for too long and smiled softly. “Please stay.” She said this with finality. Her decision was made and she wasn’t going to change it.

She didn’t dare look into Macs eyes, and turned towards the shower head she had claimed. She turned the Knob all the way to the left and unclothed, shaking slightly. She let the clothes fall to the floor and kicked them out of the way of the stream. She shut her eyes tight and stepped into the water, which was already warming up nicely. The heat as it touched her skin was incredible. She let out a low moan. Any thoughts she had before the water touched her were gone. She focused on the pleasurable sensations as the heat penetrated into her skin. She could feel every inch her melt. Every few seconds she let out a moan or sigh. Once her body had taken in enough heat,  she turned around to face the shower head and opened her eyes. She licked her lips, unsure of which glorious product to use first. She decided on shampoo, grabbing it and placing a dollop into her palm.  Immediately the scent filled her nostrils.  It wasn’t the salon product she was accustomed to, but the scent was wonderful either way.  She rubbed her hands together and started massaging the shampoo into her scalp.  Her hair had been tangled, but she was able to get all of her hair clean.  Any dirt or blood was washed down the drain.  “Oooh.”  She scratched her scalp delicately with her nails, the sensation making her grin.  She leaned her head back under the stream to let it rinse, before getting the conditioner.  Working the conditioner into her hair, she felt the hair become smooth and silky.  Rinsing that as well, she turned back around. 

She picked up the soap and began rubbing it over her body, turning back around and closing her eyes again in the process. She pushed the soap hard against her arms, massaging them. She looked down at her arms, watching as blood, sweat, and dirt glided off her skin and revealed the true ivory color beneath. Arms clean, she moved to her torso.  She rubbed the soap on her stomach, enjoying the smooth feeling it caused.  She began to soap her breasts, sliding the bar in circles around each nipple.  It felt better than it ever had before.  She felt herself get warmer and dropped the soap.  She smoothed her hands over each breast, squeezing them softly before letting her hands fall lower on her body.  She could feel a pounding sensation in her pussy, and slowly moved one hand over it, grasping it lightly and letting go.  “Mmm.”  Her eyes still closed, she let one finger trace the line where her lips closed.  Her finger went back and forth, as she enjoyed the feeling of soft skin and fingernail touch her most sensitive area.  She bit her bottom lip and slipped one finger into the folds.  Immediately she touched her clit and rubbed it gently.  Her knees jerked automatically, and she grabbed onto the ledge with her other hand.  She began rubbing herself harder, letting out a short, soft, but high-pitched squeal.  Her breath quickened in response to her whole hand moving with each progressively harder rub.  With the combined wetness of the water and her own liquid, her finger was no longer staying in place.  She let it slip inside of her every few seconds before coming back out to rub the clit.  She threw her head back and moaned louder.  Just as her back began to involuntarily arch, a noise brought her back to the world.  Oh my Lord.  She leaned over quickly, grabbed the soap, and turned to face the ledge again.  Her face was now uncomfortably warm, as she hurriedly soaped up her legs.  She rinsed herself off, checking each part to ensure that everywhere was clean and soap-free.  She turned the knob all the way to the right, shutting off the water, before scurrying to the towels.  She picked one up and draped it tightly around her body, then grabbed another which she worked on drying her hair with.

[malcolm-warner]

Mac felt proud that he made the girl so happy. "Yep. No problem," He smiled at Trish as she threw around the word love at him. Mac stood there looking like an idiot, waiting for some sort of response. When he got the okay, he perked up in interest as he grabbed the toiletries, which he got for himself back in the closet, out of his pant pockets. "Alright, I can't argue with you there," He agreed, keeping his composure. He headed to the opposite side of the showers and turned on the water to let it run so that he could reach an optimal temperature.

Once he found it, Mac stripped down to nothing making sure his clothes were tucked away were they wouldn't get wet. His shirt he would surely throw away, but his jeans and boxers were not going in the trash anytime soon. As soon as he stepped underneath the stream of water, a sigh of relief left his mouth. He enjoyed every second of it. Making sure to focus solely on cleaning his own body, he couldn't help but think about the girl showering just a few showers over from him. Don't look over. Don't look over. Stare at the wall. The testosterone running through his body alongside the hot water wasn't doing him any justice... until he heard it. He swore that he heard her moan. His suspicions were confirmed once a few more sounds of pleasure came out from the blonde's mouth. What the hell was she doing? Those were more than just sounds of relief from a good shower. Was she... touching herself?

He wrung his hands through his hair a few times and put his face in his hands for a few seconds trying to ignore his sexual urges. Mac didn't know if he should go over there or... no. No. Of course not. He's here to take a shower and that's it. The fact that Trish was also here taking a shower in the same room was just for safety reasons. More strength in numbers. Right. Completely out of his free-will and to satisfy his curiosity, Mac took a quick glance at the woman standing under the shower head across the room. He caught a glimpse of her soft, wet body bent over the edge. In the perfect position for him to walk over to her right then and there just to grab her hips and give it to her as hard as she would let him. The temptation was too overwhelming for him as he drew his eyes away from the sight and rinsed off one more time after he scrubbed as much of the remaining grime off of his chest. He heard the water shut off next to him, so he followed in sync when he realized he didn't set out a towel to dry off with. He wasn't ashamed to walk across the room to pick up one of the clean towels in the stack, so he did just that taking one last quick peek at the woman's body, now wrapped neatly in cloth. 

He knew not to break the sound barrier quite yet, so he silently continued to dry himself until he was able to slip on his dirty boxers. Mac wondered if he'd be able to get a hold of another pair so that he could wash the ones that he's now had for months. It didn't bother him so much at that moment, so he slipped on his dark jeans as well. Mac looked over at Trish once he felt that she was done dressing. He smiled at her, looking cute in military apparel which did not suit her style whatsoever. He let out a laugh as he walked toward her. "You look ready for battle," Mac observed standing next to her in only his jeans. "I'm gonna go out in the hall to find a shirt," 

[malcolm-warner]

Morning Chores // Mac and Trish

[malcolm-warner]

Mac kept quiet, transfixed on her response of how she worked with those less fortunate. What a caring person. There was nothing mean-spirited about this woman, Mac undoubtedly determined. He was eager to hear more. He just wanted to know everything about this interesting girl, so full of spirit and life. He could tell that thought touched a weak spot in her as she clammed up, unable to continue her sentence. Luckily, she changed topics as Mac was relieved to hear more of her life story.

I beautiful, blonde, rich, white girl. Mac would never see the light of day with one of these types in school. He wasn’t in school now though and neither was she. They were living in the same quarters and probably will be for as long as they survive. “Heh, no that’s really interesting, Trish. You sure do adapt well,” Mac assured the girl as he put his rod down briefly to rest his arms. This gave him opportunity to look her directly in the eyes. “You are strong to be still alive today,” Mac knew how much muscle and endurance it took to be out among those things, killing as many that came your way. She sure didn’t look it, but Trish sure was a fighter. 

"What about my life? I lived alone in my house staring at my computer 8 hours of the day," Mac laughed at the unintentional sarcasm he put in his voice. His life before was a joke, so he felt the need to present it as such. "Got my Bachelor’s in English, moved down here, and started my job as a freelance writer. And then this!" Mac put the emphasis in his last remark by jamming the rod, full force, into one of the walker’s eye. 

[trishcloves]

She enjoyed talking to him.  It was such a welcome change to really talk and have conversations about life rather than focusing simply on where the next meal would come from or how to stay alive through the night.  In general, he was a welcome change.  He reassured her that she really was strong.  He looked in her eyes, and she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold weather.  She believed that he really meant it.  He wasn’t talking down to her or trying to make her like him.  He really thought she was strong.  He may be the first person in her life to think this.  She supposed that anyone that had survived this long was probably pretty strong.  

When Mac began talking about his own life, she laughed.  It was so strange that things that we worked so hard for before meant nothing now.  ”Oh my gosh, computers.  I was so computer illiterate.”  She realized that the more she got to know Mac, the more she liked him.  This was truly scary.  It was inevitable that one or both of them would die.  It wasn’t safe to get connected to someone.  However, she thought about life before the outbreak.  People still died then too.  Heck, she had a best friend die only weeks before the outbreak in a car accident.  She was still happy she had been friends with her.  It didn’t take away the friendship they had.  

Trish scanned the walkers.  Only a handful walkers remained, tumbling and stumbling over the dead ones.  It was a job well done, and her arms were sore.  It was time for the long awaited shower.  She laid down her rod and rubbed her arms.  ”I think that’s good for now.  Come on.”  She let him lay down his rod before making her way to the welcome center.  With Mac at her side, she scanned the different rooms in the hallway.  She paused at the bathroom, then continued to the last door on the right.  Inside was a communal shower with about 10 shower heads.  No one was in it at the time, and there were a few towels on a shelf just outside the tiled floor of the shower.  No soaps were in sight, but the hot water would certainly be enough for now.  She stopped, considering her options.  ”Oh.”  She turned to Mac, feeling extremely unsure of herself.  ”I guess… we could… just shower at the same time.”  She covered herself nervously.  She locked the door behind them, figuring that if she was to be naked in front of anyone, it would absolutely only be Mac.  ”Just try not… ya know try not to look at me.”  She wrung her hands.  ”No, I mean, not that you would.  I don’t mean… Just… yeah.”

[malcolm-warner]

Mac rubbed his hands together after putting his weapon down when Trish announced the end of their work. Blood covering his clothes and the back of his hands, he was more then ready for a refreshing shower. While they proceeded to walk past the bunkers toward the welcome center, Mac felt some blood on his face and neck as well. He wished he wasn't such a pussy about getting dirty, but at least he was able to hide his disgust well. At least that's what he thought. 

Mac only remembered seeing the men's shower room, so he was curious where Trish was headed since she was going in the same direction. As they reached the end of the hallway, he realized that there was no men's shower room-it was co-ed. It was suddenly obvious how uncomfortable Trish was and Mac felt the urge to leave her alone and take his shower later, despite the strong desire to clean up as soon as possible. "I can leave; really. Enjoy yourself. I can go to the closet to find us some clean clothes. I'll find something pretty for you to wear if you'd like," Mac replied to the awkwardness with no hesitation, leaving Trish with no room to answer. 

He unlocked the door and rushed into the hall toward where he thought the closet was. He respected her privacy and he was going to be a gentleman about it... no matter how badly he wanted to get in that shower with her. Pursuing women had no focus in this day of age where survival was so unlikely... but damn, it would be a nice perk to get close to a female whilst protecting each other in this apocalypse.

There were a few options of clean clothes, but nothing pretty by any means. This was a military base after all... Mac selected a white tee that seemed like it would fit pretty snug and the smallest size of cargo pants he could find. As for undergarments, he was no clue where he would even begin to look. He figured it wouldn't be worth his time to start that search because it would come off as a tad creepy to be picking out a girl's panties that he only met a week ago. 

When he got back to the showers to deliver the clothes, the door was wide open and he found Trish looking around the area for soap. Anxious to help, Mac hurried to the closet again and picked up a bar that he remembered seeing on the top rack along with some travel-size shampoo and conditioners and a comb. Handing the supplies to her, he found himself reluctant to leave and figured he'd give her the option instead. "I guess I'll go now... unless you'd just want me to shower at the far end away from you... You know, for security; if something bad were to happen? I mean, whatever works," Mac left his offer open for her to interpret however she felt best. 

[malcolm-warner]

Morning Chores // Mac and Trish

[malcolm-warner]

Now this girl was trying to get all smart with him. The comment frustrated Mac, now contemplating what to say back to the remark, but God, did he love it. She was talking up a storm and Mac was still in the process of waking up, so he felt best as to let it go without a comeback. He felt comforted in the fact that she was still set on spending the day with him, even if it was with such a dirty chore. “Alright, here I am,” He declared as he followed her to the herd building up by the fence.

Mac’s eyes widened at the mention of a reward of showers later. What was this girl trying to do to him and why was she so good at it? Mac kept his gaze on her as her face fell in embarrassment. He didn’t keep his eyes off of her, trying to read as many signals as he was able to pick up. As she picked up a rod hastily, he joined in, promising to himself that he’d get the work done as soon as possible. The showers were calling him. Plus, he didn’t have to worry about Trish leaving so he was safe with the thought of her being around always. 

One after the other dropping to the ground, they were starting to step on each other and stumbling doing so. He moved along to the left as Trish followed him as he had hoped. The disgusting stench radiated from the dead corpses, making Mac cover his nose in hopes to block out the smell somehow. “So I never really asked you… what’d you do before all this happened? Were you in college?” Mac asked her, trying to get a conversation going midst all this tedious work.

[trishcloves]

Mac didn’t seem to have a reaction to her phrase mess-up.  She was thankful - anyone else may have laughed at her or questioned if she really did want to shower together.  OK maybe I do a little, but I’m not going to change myself completely just because the rest of the world has.  I still value love and commitment and all those good, human, things.  Trish was strangely glad to have this job to do.  She was eager to have people feel she was earning her keep.  She was also glad she didn’t have to do it alone.  By using the rod, Trish was able to distance herself from the walkers, physically and emotionally, in a way she couldn’t with a knife. She wasn’t keeping track of how many walkers she or Mac killed, but began to notice the impressive pile at the floor of the fence.  Once dead, they regained some of their humanity, so Trish kept her eyes on the animated ones.  Trish made sure to follow any of Mac’s leads.  He had covered his nose and made a disgusted face, presumably from the smell emanating from the undead and truly dead walkers.  It was pretty awful.  She couldn’t help but smile though - the man next to her was so beautifully human.  So… normal.  Besides, soon enough this smell and even the smell she probably had would die down.  

With his nose still blocked, Mac asked in a funny voice what Trish had been doing pre-apocolpyse.  This took Trish back into her thoughts.  ”Oh,” she said, happy to bring up the life that was over, “Yeah, I was in grad school.  Interning at this clinic with kids with disabilities.  I love kids so m-”  A lump caught in her throat, thinking about the kids she loved and missed, especially the one that she had to take home when the outbreak happened.  Woah, change topics.  I haven’t cried since before the outbreak, I’m not about to start now.  She took a deep breath, releasing the stress in her throat.  ”Um, I guess everything was normal.  Ya know, working too hard.  I was living with my brother.  Had a great family.”  She grinned and paused the killing, holding the rod at her side like a staff.  ”Ya know, I was kinda… prissy.  My family had money, so I was used to having anything I ever needed or wanted.”  She picked up the rod and killed another walker.  ”Even when me and my brother moved out and I was in school, I didn’t have to worry about like” she rolled her eyes, “rent or bills or whatever.  But I worked hard at school and the clinic- ya know, I was learning.”  She shook her head.  ”Before the outbreak I would have never even camped at a place that didn’t have bathrooms.”  She looked around them quickly, making sure Mac was the only one to hear her honesty.  ”I was alone for awhile before Rick found me.  I guess… I am stronger than I thought.  Definitely stronger than my parents would have thought.”  She stabbed a walker with a grunt.  ”How bout you?”

[malcolm-warner]

Mac kept quiet, transfixed on her response of how she worked with those less fortunate. What a caring person. There was nothing mean-spirited about this woman, Mac undoubtedly determined. He was eager to hear more. He just wanted to know everything about this interesting girl, so full of spirit and life. He could tell that thought touched a weak spot in her as she clammed up, unable to continue her sentence. Luckily, she changed topics as Mac was relieved to hear more of her life story.

I beautiful, blonde, rich, white girl. Mac would never see the light of day with one of these types in school. He wasn't in school now though and neither was she. They were living in the same quarters and probably will be for as long as they survive. "Heh, no that's really interesting, Trish. You sure do adapt well," Mac assured the girl as he put his rod down briefly to rest his arms. This gave him opportunity to look her directly in the eyes. "You are strong to be still alive today," Mac knew how much muscle and endurance it took to be out among those things, killing as many that came your way. She sure didn't look it, but Trish sure was a fighter. 

"What about my life? I lived alone in my house staring at my computer 8 hours of the day," Mac laughed at the unintentional sarcasm he put in his voice. His life before was a joke, so he felt the need to present it as such. "Got my Bachelor's in English, moved down here, and started my job as a freelance writer. And then this!" Mac put the emphasis in his last remark by jamming the rod, full force, into one of the walker's eye. 

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

All Along The Watchtower | OPEN |

[malcolm-warner]

Mac tried to gather as many memories as he could from his childhood in the Pennsylvania mountains. “It was enjoyable. I mean, I was a kid; As long as I had a bike and a huge area to explore, I was set,” Mac reminisced looking at Pockets with deep concern. This was clearly an experience he had never had the chance to go through. Mac turned his face as he smiled.

Children… damn, he would have never even given it a second thought, but maybe this would be good for him… Mac wondered what it’d be like to have a child in this apocalypse; holding them close, making sure they never got out of sight. It would be awful at the same time to make them witness their friends and family constantly dying… “That’s not a bad idea actually. I don’t know if their parents would let me handle their children yet, me still being a stranger to them, but it’s definitely a thought,” He appreciated Pocket’s suggestion and sought out to ask Rick later about this possible arrangement.

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

Pockets listened as Mac talked about his childhood. He could barely remember the bike he’d had when he was a kid; he’d left it behind when he ran away. He’d gone out of his way to make sure they’d have no idea where to find him when he left, and that meant leaving that form of transport behind. “Sounds nice,” he answered sincerely, glad that not every childhood was like his own.

He read the expression on Mac’s face, wondering what he could be possibly thinking of. He figured anyone with any amount of schooling would be good to teach the kids, although it was probably safe to say that what was vitally important to Pockets when he was still in school would be superfluous to kids these days. Things like the Pythagorean Theorum and the political overtones of the novel Animal House probably would be of little use in surviving these days. Still… there was hope that it wouldn’t always be this way, and the world would return to what it had been. “If your lessons are out in the yard where the parents can observe and listen, I don’t see why it wouldn’t work out,” he said with a small smile. “Besides, it might bring some sense of normalcy to everyone again.”

[malcolm-warner]

"Thanks for the offer, man. I've always wanted to raise a family, but hell, I guess it just wasn't in the cards for me," Mac looked out over the prison yard and further down toward the fence seeing no sign of suspicious activity; just a few walkers scattered here and there. "Did you eventually find a family to adopt? I mean, I'm sure you must have; no one can stay lonely for long. We'll go crazy doing that," Mac walked away from the view and stared at the floor, trying not to think about the solitude of the last few months before the end of the world disaster came about.

Mac felt bad for asking the kid such personal questions, but quite frankly, nowadays this information wasn't so secretive. They were memories that would never come back. There's nothing offensive about that because societal rules no longer exist. If the kid didn't feel like sharing, then he made his answer brief, or he lied. It was that simple. Malcolm Warner was the type of man to spill his guts with nothing to hide; an open book most people would say. He was proud of who he was, even if he barely had anything to show off. 

[malcolm-warner]

Morning Chores // Mac and Trish

Mac woke up with a bit of a headache; nothing a little fresh air couldn’t help though. Sleeping on a soft mattress did do his back justice however, and making up on his sleep debt made him feel more than ready to tackle the day. He glanced over to his roommates’ bunk; no sign of Daryl. How late in the morning was it? Mac wasn’t used to sleeping in, but he wasn’t going to complain. 

As he stepped out of his tent and watched some of the women hanging clothes on the clothesline, he thought of Trish, He better go catch up with her since right now, she was the closest thing Mac had to a friend here. Mac forgot which tent she was assigned, so he decided to take a stroll around the perimeters until he found her.

Approaching the common grounds, he spotted her talking to a young, blonde haired male. He couldn’t tell if he felt a sense of jealousy or not. Nahh. He decided it was nothing and continued to advance toward her anyway. As Mac got closer, the blonde walked away from Trish leaving her open to talk to. 

"Hey there," Mac greeted her, clearing his throat at the groggy sound of hearing his voice for the first time that day. "Got any idea how late I slept in ‘til?" Mac, unsure of where to do with them, put his hands into his pockets and leaned in closer to hear Trish over the chatter of groups of people talking around them.

[trishcloves]

She had smiled the instant she saw him.  There was something about him that just made her feel safe and warm.  She felt that if her guard was constantly up around everyone here, she may have a heart attack.  It made sense to feel paranoid about everyone else here, but she needed at least one person to trust.  Sure, she could be wrong about him, but she deserved to feel a sense of calm after everything that had happened.  He greeted her with sleep in his voice.  Her eyes lit up and she laughed slightly.  How cute.  He asked how long he had slept in.  She eyed him and smiled slyly as he leaned in closer.  ”Well, you’re mister observant, knowing the time of year based on the trees.  Look at the position of the sun.  When would you say it is?”  She laughed.  ”Eh, suns still rising, you’re good.  I haven’t been up long anyway.  Just” she stopped and looked him over “waiting for you.”  

Trish turned to head over to the walkers at the fence.  ”So I figure we take care of our friendly ol’ walkers, and then reward ourselves with a shower together.”  She smiled, then opened her eyes wide.  ”I mean showers.  Heh, showers sep… uh, separately.”  She felt her cheeks flush and looked towards the walkers, wanting to run rather than stroll there.  She cleared her throat and needlessly scratched her arm.  ”So let’s get started!”

[malcolm-warner]

Now this girl was trying to get all smart with him. The comment frustrated Mac, now contemplating what to say back to the remark, but God, did he love it. She was talking up a storm and Mac was still in the process of waking up, so he felt best as to let it go without a comeback. He felt comforted in the fact that she was still set on spending the day with him, even if it was with such a dirty chore. "Alright, here I am," He declared as he followed her to the herd building up by the fence.

Mac's eyes widened at the mention of a reward of showers later. What was this girl trying to do to him and why was she so good at it? Mac kept his gaze on her as her face fell in embarrassment. He didn't keep his eyes off of her, trying to read as many signals as he was able to pick up. As she picked up a rod hastily, he joined in, promising to himself that he'd get the work done as soon as possible. The showers were calling him. Plus, he didn't have to worry about Trish leaving so he was safe with the thought of her being around always. 

One after the other dropping to the ground, they were starting to step on each other and stumbling doing so. He moved along to the left as Trish followed him as he had hoped. The disgusting stench radiated from the dead corpses, making Mac cover his nose in hopes to block out the smell somehow. "So I never really asked you... what'd you do before all this happened? Were you in college?" Mac asked her, trying to get a conversation going midst all this tedious work.

[malcolm-warner]

Hey, man. Great to meet you; Mac.

[survivorjasonfletcher]

Yeah, um. So how long have you been with the group, Mac? 

[malcolm-warner]

Oh geez, like a week. Not long at all... I haven't seen you around until now though?

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

All Along The Watchtower | OPEN |

[malcolm-warner]

His question seemed almost insulting now, but Mac could tell he gave the kid a good laugh so that had to be good. “Ah, sorry to hear about that. Clearly you’re making it out here fine with no formal education skills,” Malcolm laughed at the thought of how useless his four years of college was now in a zombie apocalypse. “Seems like the only knowledge I’m using now is stuff I learned whilst camping with my family as a kid.. and basic survival skills from the internet,” Mac sympathized with Pockets as he started pacing in the small watchtower. “What the hell is a B.A. in English gonna do for me now?”

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

Pockets shrugged. “It’s alright,” he answered. “I mean, I lived, you know?” He smiled and nodded, since all he’d been living on was his scavenging that he’d picked up from his years of doing so before the world went completely to hell. He tilted his head, watching the older male. “You went camping when you were a kid? What was that like?” He chewed on his lip in thought. “You could always help teach the younger ones who to read and stuff. That’s still important so they know what we do and don’t need. They also need a quiet activity to do when they aren’t working.”

[malcolm-warner]

Mac tried to gather as many memories as he could from his childhood in the Pennsylvania mountains. "It was enjoyable. I mean, I was a kid; As long as I had a bike and a huge area to explore, I was set," Mac reminisced looking at Pockets with deep concern. This was clearly an experience he had never had the chance to go through. Mac turned his face as he smiled.

Children... damn, he would have never even given it a second thought, but maybe this would be good for him... Mac wondered what it'd be like to have a child in this apocalypse; holding them close, making sure they never got out of sight. It would be awful at the same time to make them witness their friends and family constantly dying... "That's not a bad idea actually. I don't know if their parents would let me handle their children yet, me still being a stranger to them, but it's definitely a thought," He appreciated Pocket's suggestion and sought out to ask Rick later about this possible arrangement.

[malcolm-warner]

Morning Chores // Mac and Trish

Mac woke up with a bit of a headache; nothing a little fresh air couldn't help though. Sleeping on a soft mattress did do his back justice however, and making up on his sleep debt made him feel more than ready to tackle the day. He glanced over to his roommates' bunk; no sign of Daryl. How late in the morning was it? Mac wasn't used to sleeping in, but he wasn't going to complain. 

As he stepped out of his tent and watched some of the women hanging clothes on the clothesline, he thought of Trish, He better go catch up with her since right now, she was the closest thing Mac had to a friend here. Mac forgot which tent she was assigned, so he decided to take a stroll around the perimeters until he found her.

Approaching the common grounds, he spotted her talking to a young, blonde haired male. He couldn't tell if he felt a sense of jealousy or not. Nahh. He decided it was nothing and continued to advance toward her anyway. As Mac got closer, the blonde walked away from Trish leaving her open to talk to. 

"Hey there," Mac greeted her, clearing his throat at the groggy sound of hearing his voice for the first time that day. "Got any idea how late I slept in 'til?" Mac, unsure of where to do with them, put his hands into his pockets and leaned in closer to hear Trish over the chatter of groups of people talking around them.

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

All Along The Watchtower | OPEN |

[malcolm-warner]

Mac was genuinely interested in his story as he leaned against the opposite wall nodding as Pockets told it. “Very nice,” Mac said with an approving smile, “Were you in school when all this happened or no?” He inquired picking up on the youth in the boy’s face. He seemed smart. Smart enough to get into a good college and study something like physics or medicine. Malcolm was never the book type to stay up and study. He slid through college to get a Bachelor’s, but he was lucky that his career allowed for his creative outlet.

[axel-artasser-deactivated201711]

Pockets laughed softly in response to the question. It wasn’t sarcastic, only amused. “Uh, no. Schools need addresses so they can send things to your parents. I ran away from mine, and I couldn’t list ‘rusted out buick under the seventh over hang’ in the address box now, could I?” He wasn’t sure how college or high school worked, but in junior high that was exactly how it worked. He hadn’t hadn’t made it past the first few weeks of eighth grade.

[malcolm-warner]

His question seemed almost insulting now, but Mac could tell he gave the kid a good laugh so that had to be good. "Ah, sorry to hear about that. Clearly you're making it out here fine with no formal education skills," Malcolm laughed at the thought of how useless his four years of college was now in a zombie apocalypse. "Seems like the only knowledge I'm using now is stuff I learned whilst camping with my family as a kid.. and basic survival skills from the internet," Mac sympathized with Pockets as he started pacing in the small watchtower. "What the hell is a B.A. in English gonna do for me now?"

[survivorjasonfletcher]

I just realized we have new faces around, so um. Yeah. I’m Jason. 

[malcolm-warner]

Hey, man. Great to meet you; Mac.

[malcolm-warner]

Hey guys! I'm Mac... you have no idea how thankful I am that I'm here. Seriously, I'm forever in debt to you guys. This place is awesome.

[malcolm-warner]

Mac appreciated the comfort of Trish’s presence beside him as the neared the welcome center. “Just gotta get a good aim I suppose,” he commented on her theory about guns. When the girl uttered her concern about her visit, Mac felt bad for giving her the wrong impression. His intention was to make sure that tonight wouldn’t be his final farewell to the girl because if it was, he would be sure to make it count, or better, influence her to stay longer. 

"No, no. Not at all. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any plans to leave. I like it here. It seems… stable," He assured Trish as he put a hand on the little of her back gently rubbing it a bit before he started to walk again. As they entered the building, he noticed some kids hanging out on a few couches which appeared to be rather comfortable. Hell, they seemed more comfortable than the cots they were sleeping on. He was given a few glances, but no one in particular seemed to be bothered by his intrusion. It wasn’t late enough for people to be getting ready for bed, but just late enough for them to start winding down. 

[trishcloves]

She was relieved at Mac’s explanation.  He rubbed the small of her back.  She had tensed slightly at the touch but quickly relaxed.  ”No, I don’t have plans to leave.”  She wanted to stay as long as possible, and hoped that Mac would too.  He had a at once a calming and ruffling presence on her.  Though it scared her, she was happy that she was feeling any emotions again.  She understood that once she started feeling the good, all the bad could come back too.  Maybe for this guy, it was worth it.  

They entered the main building, which was surprisingly plush.  Why the heck was Trish sleeping in a tent on a cot when this was here?  It all seemed very inviting.  It was quiet and warm, and to Trish, seemed like a paradise.  A thought bubbled to the surface that excited Trish.  ”Do you think there’s… showers here?” 

[malcolm-warner]

The thought of a hot shower soothed Mac's mind. A place to clean up and feel fresh... anew. After a while, he just adapted to the stench that resonated from his body. Most of it was probably from his clothes but after being covered in dried blood and dirt, it was hard to tell the difference between his skin and his brown shirt. "God, I hope so... I mean, they've got generators running in this place, right? I'm sure they've got hot water running," Mac processed quickly. His voice got louder as he got more and more excited. 

"Hey, over here," Mac gestured toward Trish to follow him into an empty corridor. He turned the corner into a bathroom and turned on the sink. After holding his hand under the running water, he felt the temperature slowly rise. "Feel it," he said grinning at Trish letting her get a taste of luxuries they had been deprived of for so long.