Marley retreated into a former version of herself when the Horde hit Sanctuary —some part of her that she thought she’d lost within the comfort that the walls of this place had offered. It might have seemed strange, to find her solace in the chaos of death and destruction around her, but it was what she knew. It was what had become familiar to her since the outbreak; it was where she felt her mind and body could thrive. She fed upon the adrenaline that life’s challenges threw at her, and she found her spark most easily when the world was falling apart.
As spring came and the walls were slowly rebuilt —the farmers crops being planted, a strange sense of normalcy falling back upon them all— the unrest that Mars expected to feel... simply did not come. The house next to hers had burnt to the ground, and the rubble and ashes of it reminded her day by day that the thrill she craved could very well be just around the corner.
The weather began to warm, and with the change in seasons came a change within her, too. She left extra coffee for her housemates in the morning; waved to her neighbours; retrieved dropped toys for children in the mess hall. The attack on what had become the closest thing she had to a home did not shake her in the way it seemed to shake many others --Bobbi, Sam, Faust... Instead, it brought about a welcome reminder that her preparedness (parhaps bordering on paranoia) had always been warranted. It told her she had been right all along, and in that she found what she had been missing for months, if not longer. In that, she found joy.
Perry chuckled at her smile, shaking his head and standing up, hauling up his backpack from the ground. He was armed like her, he noticed, hoping that the implements would be enough to ward off any dangers. “After you, Mars.” He set off behind her, the gate of the Sanctuary rapidly disappearing behind him. With one last longing glance behind him, he set his eyes on the road ahead, the woman in front of him.
He had to wonder where she came from, his mind always wanting to know the history and stories. Maybe she was like him, coming from everywhere in a sense. Or maybe she came from nowhere, or at least nowhere she wanted to talk about. The first carcass of a rusted out car they passed made him focus again on their surroundings. “So what are you hoping to find?” It was spoken in a whisper, barely heard above the crunch of snow.
Unlike Perry, Marley didn’t once look back at the walls of the place she now called home. The uncertainty of what was ahead of them had her heart racing ;; it was what she craved, more than anything. Sanctuary was a place of knowing what would happen, day in and day out, an unending, unbreakable routine. She almost wished she was still among a group of travellers, fighting for their lives every hour of every day. As things stood, this only applied to the pair of them, for the moment ---as long as they made it back. In one piece. Which wasn’t guaranteed, and she knew that, and the thought of a potentially forever-maimed Dexter at her own fault made something churn in her gut. If only to avoid the unpleasant feeling growing, she would be certain nothing similar happened to Perry, if she could.
It took her a moment to realize he had spoken. “Fuel. Medicine. Food.” She listed off the three things she always searched for, no matter the run or the location they were headed to. “I won’t pass up ammunition or books, either.” As their feet quietly crunched in the snow, she thought she ought to ask the same of him, voice only loud enough for the two of them to hear in close proximity. “What about you?”
The voices of her past superiors rang through her ears as she read through one the many notebooks she’d managed to carry with her all this time, the pages lined with vague details regarding the experimental flu shot. The same experimental flu shot that was set to be released during the same flu season that caused the mass pandemic they were now attempting to survive. She wondered whether the company she’d worked for caused the outbreak. The gears in her head turning as she scoured through her own hand-writing, desperate to find some inkling of an idea about what had truly happened.
A quiet sigh left her lips, and she threw herself back into the chair she’d taken up for over an hour now as she slammed her notebook shut. She’d forgotten that she wasn’t alone in the room, the voice of another causing her to nearly jolt from her own skin with a gasp and an expletive. Realizing it was another human speaking to her, she giggled at herself and shook her head in disbelief. All this time running from the monsters sure had an effect on her.
“Gosh. Sorry, what’d you say?”
Mars had noticed her down the table from where she sat ---someone new, someone that intrigued her, if only for the way she chose to present herself to others in this new world ---impractical, though not unappealing. She was reading something, clearly enthralled with its contents, and that gave Mars pause. She wanted, no needed to know what had this woman so clearly worked up, so in her own world. So she slid down, a few seats closer, and leaned her elbow onto the edge of the table. She spoke up, waiting for an answer, and when it came she added, “Jesus, what’d that poor book ever do to you?” It was more than an innocuous question ---she was fishing for answers, hoping to pull them out as casually as possible.
Perry was feeling a bit calmer this time. He had gone beyond the walls and returned just fine, so his hands weren’t shaking like they were before he and Cal went out. He simply sat against a wall, stomping his boots on occasion to keep his feet warm. The blizzard had passed but there was still lingering snow on the ground, and Perry had to wonder what they were going to find. They were heading to another nearby suburb, and instead of Cal, he was going with Mars. He had only talked to the younger woman in passing, she seemed amiable enough to work with, so Perry wasn’t too worried. He watched her approaching form, before calling out. “So you’re ready for this?”
@marslarx
Marley had not had the most wonderful time at the winter festival they had put on a short while ago. It brought about a sense of normalcy that was entirely unwanted to her; a feeling of disquiet that needed to be cured, one way or another. Finding someone to go on a run with her had been a blessing ---just the thing to cure her of her cabin fever, so to speak. Though Perry and Mars lived in the same house, they hardly knew one another. She knew enough to know that she trusted the man, for the most part, which was all she could ask of from a partner.
“I’m itching for it.” She smiled, showing her teeth and lifting her brows in his direction. She carried a mostly-empty backpack, containing only the bare emergency supplies like qauze and duct tape, and a spare duffle bag if they found anything especially good, worth lugging back. She had a gun strapped to her waist in case of emergency, a long dagger strapped to the top of her thigh for easy access. “Let’s get a move on.”
Dorian methodically went over his gun, slowly beginning to put all of the pieces back together after having totally disassembled the weapon. It was like doing the same puzzle over and over again until it isn’t a puzzle anymore. For him, this was muscle memory. Every piece was made with a purpose and fit perfectly with every other piece around it. The male didn’t need to use his eyes to put the gun back together, he watched carefully as Mars sauntered towards him, a soft smirk on his face. He liked her swagger.
He quirked his eyebrow as she spoke, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Like the back of my hand, you treat your weapon right, it’ll save your skin in a desperate situation,” Dorian responded with a nod, maintaining eye contact with the woman as he seamlessly slid the remaining parts on the table into their designated places. It looked almost as if he had done it one fluid motion, this being due to the fact that he had years of practice taking apart and reassembling this weapon. When he was deployed, he and the other guys would have contests to see who could take it apart and put it back together the fastest. “Do you want to hold it? It’s not loaded, but if you did want to fire it, we could go to the guard post,” Dorian offered, curious as to what she would say, the gun itself was just over half her height and weighed close to seventeen pounds.
@marslarx
She had been prepared to make an idle comment about what might happen to his toes in the middle of the night --a joke, probably-- if he told anyone about the canned food, but he seemed entirely unconcerned, which she made a note of. This was the sort of quality she liked in people ---those able to mind their own goddamn business. She watched him reassemble the weapon, smooth and steady like he’d done it a thousand times over, which he undoubtedly had, and popped another spoonful into her mouth. Contrary to the image she was giving off at the moment, Marley held to the same philosophy of treating one’s weapon right, though her weapon was her body. She knew how to fire a gun and hit a moving target, though she was no sharpshooter, and if she had the choice, she would always use a knife... or a crowbar, or a baseball bat, or anything really, over a gun. Truth be told, she could probably use some practice.
“---Do I want to hold your massive weapon?” She didn’t hold back the taunting tone, though it came mumbled through half a mouthful of food. If there ever was someone to truly not have a care in the world for what others thought of her, it was Mars. “I mean, yeah. Obviously.” She shrugged. If she could take the opportunity to improve an important skill, as much as she avoided using it, she would take it. Picking up some tips from someone who clearly had some significant experience wouldn’t hurt, either. Every chance to better herself, no excuses.
After a long night shift and a quick nap, Dorian wandered into the mess hall, his M40A5 slung over his shoulder and a small bag of tools in his other hand. Weapon maintenance was an important part of survival for him. ‘If you treat your weapon right, it’ll save your life.’ The voice of his old quartermaster rang through his head as he plopped down at a table, slowly beginning to take apart the weapon, making sure to wipe down and oil every piece as it came off.
Tinkering with guns was something that always brought Dorian peace. It was his way of making sure that he wasn’t going to get fucked over by his own weapon in the event of an emergency. He glanced at the stock of his gun, a small grin appearing on his face as he ran his thumb over the motto of his platoon that had been etched into it, ‘one shot, one kill.’ He missed being in the marine corps, but the reality was that this was his life now, and he was just going to have to deal with it. Quietly humming classic rock songs to himself as he worked, each time the door of the mess hall swung open he looked up to meet the eyes of whoever had entered, offering a small wave or smile of acknowledgment.
She had entered the mess hall through the back door to the kitchen, snooped around and found herself a can of butternut squash that was most certainly NOT included in her rations, but fuck ---she was the one who’d brought it back. So she opened the can with a sharp knife, stuffed a spoon inside and moved it to her mouth to enjoy the sweet, rich taste of something she hadn’t eaten in ages. She hadn’t even liked squash when there were other options, before the dead started cannibalizing the living, but now it was one of the few things she could have a craving for and know there was actually a chance of finding it somewhere.
When she stepped into the mess hall, the room was quiet enough that, without a closer listen, she could have imagined it was empty. That must have been what she had done, because she soon met eyes with a man she remembered being called Dorian, cleaning his rather large, unmistakably military-grade gun. With the spoon held between her lips, she flashed him a smile in turn, and wiggled her fingers in a wave. She cast a look around the room, and the few others there seemed to be minding their own business, caught up in a book or the mending of clothes. So she sauntered over to him, plopped down on the seat across --sure to keep her filthy paws away from his gear, of course-- and only then took the spoon from her mouth. “You sure know your way around that thing, eh Maddox?”
The chance of meeting someone where he had been when Marley had found him was something that would have only ever happened to Jeremy, he had wonderful luck, that was, if he had even believed in luck at all. Any of the things that he had and that had happened to him that were good were all of his own making. Jeremy made his own luck and it wasn’t always as easy as some would have thought, granted, he didn’t stress half as much as anyone else; always the golden boy, Jeremy could do no wrong.
It was refreshing for Jeremy to feel someone’s suspicion, it meant a challenge was ahead and that was all Jeremy ever looked for in life, challenges that he could master. People were no different. Eventually, people always did what Jeremy wanted, even if it took him making it seem like it was their idea in the first place, he was cunning and charming.
This second meeting of the same person, that was not chance and the whole thing was sloppy. It made Jeremy grin for a moment before he recovered himself, even after he’d already let the woman continue walking for a good moment as he knelt down to retrieve her fallen notebook. Information was information and the simple phrase written in the notebook was more than Jeremy could have hoped for, he almost laughed, but kept his image that of a friendly nature as he turned back to call out to Marley. “Oh say! I think you dropped your notebook, ma'am.”
Ever the image of a good man, smile and shining eyes, if he’d been in uniform it would have made him all the more handsome. Although he wasn’t shaven the way he would have been over two years prior, Jeremy was a handsome man and he certainly knew how to use that in his favor.
She had never intended to be slick ---in fact, his reaction gave her an ideal starting point in her analysis of him. Her trick was so painfully obvious to anyone paying half a bit of attention, and he had not called her out on it, and she wondered why. When he finally came up to her, she had to resist laughing out loud at his exclamation. Oh say, ma’am! Who the hell talked like that? Instead of calling him out however, she followed his lead and acted in surprise... which wasn’t entirely an act, given that she was surprised at being called ma’am by anyone, no matter their motives.
“Oh gee, thank you so much, sir.” She rolled her eyes and snatched the notebook back ---and then let a smile show, not disingenuous, and her tone turned from mocking to playful. “What, did you grow up in the 40s or something, man?”
Though he was attractive, Mars couldn’t deny that, it wouldn’t phase her. It might have, if he was a woman, but that was not the case. Still, she could quietly admire him while maintaining a healthy level of suspicion. One might have argued that she acted this way with all the newcomers, though that wouldn’t have been entirely true. There was something different about him, whether it was just the fact that she felt doubts about bringing a stranger here, or if there was something more lurking underneath his smooth veneer.
Marley might have been the one to show Jeremy the way to Sanctuary, but that didn’t mean she trusted him implicitly ---in fact, it only meant that she was more suspicious of him than she would have otherwise been. If this guy turned out to be a total MONSTER, she’d be the one on the hook for it... or the little bit of her conscience that was left after surviving this long would tell her as much. Still, as self-interested as she was, she wasn’t going to leave the man out there when he could have just as easily followed her without her permission. It was better to act like she trusted him, like he didn’t make the investigator in her squirm to know more. It left her at an advantage.
So she sought him out, though she was casual about it, and when she found him she walked right by. As she did so, she bumped his elbow in passing and (not by accident) dropped her notebook on the ground. It was a new one, empty save for a small scrawling of ‘fuck you, snoopy.’ on the first page ---but it was a test, to see how he might approach the situation. As she waited, she held back from glancing at him, and went on past him like she hadn’t noticed anything, stopping only to offer a quick hello to someone who had recognized her.
“a culling? as in population control?” bobbi cocked her head to the side. “would a zombie outbreak really be the best…. way? to do it?” there were many flaws in that line of reasoning, the main one being the sheer amount of zombies. “why not an actual poison in the water or like- just a straight up military crackdown?”
She huffed, and didn’t resist rolling her eyes, or try to hide it. “Come on, Honeywell. Think about it.” She rested her elbows on the table, clearly a little more intrigued by the topic ---perhaps for its ability to distract her. “They wouldn’t want to be obvious, ‘cause then we’ll know what’s going on. This way, they get to come in and save the day years from now while some of us are still alive to do their dirty work.” She stated it all matter-of-factly, as if recited time and time again, which it likely had been.
bobbi blinked at the sudden change in mars. “i don’t think we really know how to talk about the outbreak.” she was definitely going to need more booze for this conversation, she could already tell. “it’s an intensely traumatic experience for everyone- except that new guy who was living in the mountains. i have no idea what his deal is.”
At that, she let out a snort of laughter. “I heard Minerva call him Sasquatch, which would explain a lot.” After another sip, she turned her attention back to the topic at hand. “It’s a culling ---of humanity, I mean.” She was skipping over a lot of details, but she supposed Bobbi probably wouldn’t take her word for it, either way, so what did it matter? “All the obscenely wealthy are in bunkers somewhere, thriving on cryo-chamber caviar and champagne, and we’re out here eating nothing but SPAM and rice.”
Cal watched as the smirking woman finally threw her cards onto the table, face up. Each of the players seemed to be bluffing the whole time, as their hands were all revealed to have a single pair. Marley’s however, held two pair, granting her the win. Joining in on the groans of the others, he tossed himself back in his chair as a slight pout took over his face.
“I’m getting my ass handed to me tonight.” Shaking his head in defeat, he downed the rest of his beer and reached back to the table behind him which held pre-filled shot glasses. He took two, setting one down in front of her with a smile. “Drink up, winner.”
She mumbled something about hands and asses as she stared at the bottle cap between her fingers, and smiled wider ---this time, to herself. There was no way of knowing what she was grinning about now, but when Cal offered her a shot, she wasn’t about to say no. She flicked the bottle cap across the table, sending it sailing into the lap of another player, and pickd up the shot. After raising it in a quick cheers, she shot it back and chased it down with the last gulp of beer in her bottle. She spoke past her hand as she wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb, saying “Is that all I get? I was hoping for a shiny new car.”
“uh, that’s good.” bobbi hummed, carefully taking a seat on the wooden crates next to mars. “yeah, it’s nice to see everyone smiling- or at least almost smiling.” her fingers itched to grab some of the beers that she knew were being chilled just outside in the snow. “it was also nice helping some of the kids make presents, reminded me of what we’d do in my classes before… everything.”
Marley was sick of talking. She was sick of not talking, sick of drinking ---but sick of being sober, too. She just wanted to sleep, really, but she couldn’t. So she sat there among the happy people, downing her who-knows-how-many’th glass of booze, and hoped that it would help her sleep later on. “Before the SHIT hit the fan?” She hadn’t told many people about her theories from before the infection really spread, but she couldn’t help herself this time. “You know, I called it. I knew some wack-o apocolyptic shit was coming, and now look at us.” She raised her drink, nearly sloshing some over the sides in the process. “I mean, half of us won’t even say what happened out loud, for fuck’s sake.”
starter - @marslarx - pre-blizzard ---WINTER FESTIVAL
“how are you holding up?”
she was almost certain that mars had heard that exact question so many times since she and dex had returned from their ill fated excursion. but bobbi wasn’t sure just how to express her interest in mars’ well being without walking down the path that so many had gone down before.
“Peachy, teach.” Where her tone might have normally held some bite, it was lacking in much of anything distinguishably Mars. Her ingenuine smile made it a pair of muted, numb expressions as she sipped at a drink she’d nicked from someone who had left it behind, presumably forgotten about. “You? Enjoying the festivities?”
The final card had been flipped, the river. Cal’s hand held the Ace, King, Queen, and Jack of Hearts. He’d gone all in with his last make shift poker chips, beer caps and playing pieces of a checker board, hoping for the final card to be flipped as the Ten of Hearts. Instead, the eight of clubs shined like a diamond in front of him. A wild, dumbfounded smile played on his face as he dropped his cards down in front of him, face up for the rest of the table to see.
“You can’t tell me you wouldn’t have gone all in on a damn near straight flush!”
Marley had only involved herself in the game with the knowledge that she would not win, and only planned to throw a wrench in it. Her observation skills were off the charts, which made finding the cracks in a poker face an easier feat than you might have expected ---especially in a place where all she did with her free time was observe people. So when Cal exclaimed his disappointment, the corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk ---one, if not the first genuinely pleased expression she’d shown all evening. “No way of knowing what I would have done.” She shrugged, sitting behind her meager hand as everyone else at the table turned their cards over. When it got to her, she tossed hers face-up, unaware of her apparent win ;; throwing a wrench in everyone else’s game, apparently, worked in her favour in the end. It was an unimpressive hand, but it was a win nonetheless.
Already two sheets to the wind, she was paying more attention to her drink than to the chorus of sighs that abounded from the others. “What’s that, then?” She picked up a bottle cap and flippd it over in her fingers, downing the last bit of her drink with her free hand. “Hm. Go figure.”
The world had begun--- no, continued to fall apart, as coud only be expected in the midst of, for lack of a better term, the apocalypse. Marley went into most things with a stunning sense of nonchalant cynicism, and so she could not pretend to be surprised with the aftermath of her run with Dexter. Sure, they’d both come out alive, but at what cost? She knew there was a price to pay ---there always was. Before, it cost money to pick up a bottle of antibiotics and a can of soup from the supermarket. Now, it cost precious time, manpower, and sometimes blood.
She sat in the hall of the infirmary, not having yet had the courage to step inside to see if Dexter was awake. She had, earlier on, peeked in just to be certain he was ALIVE, but that was all she could muster up, for the time being. When she heard a door click, she was jolted out of her reverie and her eyes shot up to the source. She hadn’t noticed it, but her arms had become rigid on the chair, knuckles going white as she gripped it, and waited for who--or what--ever it was to round the corner.
WHO: marley & @dexfitz
WHAT: supply run
WHEN: beginning of winter, 2019
WHERE: two-story mini market
PART I . . .
DEXTER:
He was analytical to a fault, blue gaze ever watchful of the shadows which danced against the almost eerily purifying snow that had blanketed the place. Any other time, Dexter would have enjoyed the snow. That was one of the things he had missed while he was on tour overseas, the snow. It had always been his favorite, especially when Stephanie was smaller and was able to go sledding with him while their parents sat inside talking with their colleagues. It was their special moment, the first fresh snow, Dexter missed it.
There was a beautiful snow that covered the overgrown and dilapidating building, he was sure it was a pharmacy or two level market and it seemed as if the loading docks hadn't been touched. Which really didn't mean a whole lot where Dexter was concerned. There was always danger and it was everywhere.
His gaze shifted from the building to the brunette he'd been partnered with; she'd been in the Sanctuary longer than he and she'd been doing these 'runs' longer but he was still wary on her skill. Dexter would have preferred to do this alone but he understood the necessity of partnership. None of her time or experienced mattered really, neither did Dexter's and becoming a Marine certainly was not a picnic in the woods.
The tall scruffy man shifted his pack some and returned his gaze to the building, the obstacle they were to master in order to get supplies for the rest. "We should check out the building first, secure the perimeter." He nodded, mostly to himself and as if that were the only option they had for their scavenging mission.
MARLEY:
The world was quiet around them --too quiet, where the only noises to be heard were their feet crunching in the snow and their own breathing. It left an uneasy feeling in her gut, like getting here had been too simple, too fast, without enough having gone wrong. She felt like they would have to pay for their easy journey before they returned to the Sanctuary, one way or another.
There were many happy memories of winters and Christmases spent with her father in their Chicago home, but none of them filled her head then. She had shut them out long ago, locked into a small, dark corner of her brain that was not to be looked into ever again, if she could help it. This was her life, now. This is what winter would be for her, from now on. Remembering would do her no good.
Marley glanced at Dexter when he spoke, only for a moment long enough to offer him a nod and continue surveying the world around them. Regardless of specific skill or experience, anyone who had made it this far without being in a place like the Sanctuary had to have had something valuable for survival. Between the pair of them, at the very least, no one could say they weren't paying attention.
So she made a round of the building, checking in windows and searching for emergency exit routes, should the need arise. She counted at least five of the dead roaming the ground floor, though there certainly could have been more, but there were only two up top. When she rounded the corner back to where they'd began, she nodded to an old dumpster they could use to climb into the second story window. "At least five of 'em below, only saw two slow ones up top. We should stay up there if we can." Another gesture towards the dumpster, and she was off at a steady pace, stepping first on the sides of her feet before rolling onto the balls of her toes so she was silent, even in the snow.
DEXTER:
As Mars went around the building, despite his wariness to not separate them, Dexter went to check out the loading dock. Per his previous observation, the garage like door had not been tampered with, however, that didn't mean nothing had happened or that it hadn't already been ransacked but there was a chance of supplies. Sniffling thoughtfully Dex nodded as Mars returned and reported on her observation. A wise gaze wandered over the building, his head nodding as she gestured and moved off, there was a twinge in his chest, moving without orders, but this wasn't the Marines.
Clearing his throat Dexter shifted his pack one more time, gaze moving over their surroundings before he followed Marley towards the dumpster, eyes scanning the fire escape which was half encompassed by vines covered in fresh snow. The clothing was only slightly limiting but the brisk weather made Dexter wish he had a third layer. Maybe he'd see if he could pick up another layer of some sort. Reaching the dumpster the Marine squatted down some to offer his hands as a boost to Marley, first putting a finger to his lips to signal they needed to be as quiet as possible climbing on the snow covered metal dumpster, hopefully a boost would aid in their silence. "Be careful," he spoke, sincerity in his deep blue gaze, this was more than a mission for supplies and Dex would be fucking damned if he let anything happen to his partner, whether or not she felt the same didn't matter, he was loyal to a fault.
MARLEY:
Unsurprisingly to anyone who had met Marley, she would not have fared well in the Marines, or anything like it. Though she was physically capable of great exertion, she had never been one to take orders well. In fact, her entire upbringing had circled around the idea that authority ought to be questioned, and her father's proudest moment was the first time (of many) that his daughter turned the line of questioning onto him. Naturally, now that the world had gone upside down, Mars had only taken her independence even further any chance she found.
She glanced back at him, resisting the urge to narrow her eyes at the tone of his voice. It bothered her more that he DIDN'T sound like he was scolding her, or expecting her not to take care, but that he sounded... like he meant it. Instead, she nodded and took his offer of help, bouncing off his hands and using her arms to catch her weight on the edge of the dumpster, moving as slowly as possible to avoid clanging about. Once up there, she adjusted her position so that she could offer Dexter her hand, and refused to consider the possibility that her brain would have normally told her was the most likely outcome ---that he would ignore the hand and make her look foolish, that she would have looked weaker for accepting his help when he hadn't done the same. She knew it didn't matter. It was easier to believe that when they were out here, in the cold, with their lives and those back at Sanctuary on the line.
DEXTER:
Ever vigilant, Dexter's gaze watched their surroundings as Mars took his offer up on the dumpster, she was agile he would give her that. Even in his younger days, Dex would trust people too easily, be loyal to them as if he and they were the closest of friends when in reality they would simply use him for his kindness and the lengths he would go for those he considered friends. It was a weakness, he learned that eventually, the really fucking hard way, was scorned by love ad well. The only thing that ever really gave him anything promising was the Marines, it was a great part of his life, that and his sister. Now both of those were gone.
Dexter had every intention of going in first this time, his brain worked in a strict manner; security, survival, and perseverance. Dex had survived thus far on pure instinct, the government spent to much time and money teaching him how to survive for him not to.
Glancing back at Mars he nodded up to the window and smirked slightly, "think you can hoist me up a bit?" There was a mild tone of teasing in his voice but he didn't push it too far, it wasn't that he didn't believe she could, she had also survived up to this point, Dex was sure she was strong. "I can pull myself up if you can get me to the edge. I'd like to secure the room."
MARLEY:
In all and utter fairness, Marley was not exempt from being one of those people. She would do what she could (within reason) to help others --in this case, Dexter-- out of trouble (as long as the trouble wasn't too deep), and she would make sacrifices (small ones) for her partners' wellbeing. It took someone special, or a situation truly out of the ordinary, to get more than brief consideration out of Mars. She was, at her core, a survivor. She had done it on her own long before the infection spread, and she would continue to put herself first now ---maybe even to a more extreme degree. She only hoped their run would be as unevetful as could be expected, and that sort of duty wouldn't be asked of her.
She didn't miss his tone, and rolled her eyes good-naturedly in response. As she did so, she gave him the boost he needed to reach the edge, settling into a solid stance and thrusting him upwards in as much of a smooth, controlled motion as she could manage in the snow. A coating of ice had formed atop the old dumpster, and as she put in the effort, her foot slipped. For a moment, her throat tumbled into her guts, but the only noise she let out was a brisk inhale between her teeth. It all happened in the blink of an eye, but her reaction time was swift, and she braced the knee of her solid foot against the wall, re-balancing herself. She had, to her credit, not forgotten Dexter in her surprise, and cast a glance back up to him. She nodded, reassuring him that all was well on her end, and gave him a final shove up to the ledge of the window.
In a quiet, barely audible tone, she asked, "See anything new up there?"
