DANTE

apocalypse boy you will destroy all you touch. you are more than your darkness but not more than the death you carry in your hands.

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mackenzie

Open to: Those in the Barn

Things had started fine. Mackenzie had, for the most part, remained closer to Philippe. It’s a habit, to keep him in her peripheries or within earshot. One never knows what might go wrong at these sort of gatherings, and could never be too careful. Things had gone just fine for some time, too. She’d imbibed, socialized, been less of a terror than she normally is. And then, all hell broke loose. Zombies. Zombies broke loose, specifically. There hadn’t been any time to keep her priorities straight when they busted onto the scene. Instead, she’d been forced into moving - yet somehow managed to retain the drink in her hand until finding safety in the barn. Unfortunately, not much of said drink had made the quick journey, and Mackenzie found herself taking down the last drops from the cup as if it might just be her last. On the tip of her tongue rests unspoken vitriol, blame that desires to be placed yet remains kept to herself. “Oye, anyone manage to smuggle a bottle in here?” Already, she is moving about the place, searching for convenient nooks and crannies that might be hiding something that would numb the buzz of her mind. “Fucking starving.. fuck this.” Within seconds, she is moving toward a ladder, intent upon taking herself to higher ground.

Of all the things Dante had seen, of all that he knew, somehow he still found himself surprised by the zombies. It was bizarre, and that was really all he could label it as. It was hard to process, hard to wrap his head around. As soon as he had seen them, he’d had rushed towards the barn. It seemed a place to get away from them. The thought of Evelyn flashed through his mind, but he knew as well as anyone: she could take care of herself.

He stood by the wall of the barn, as far from the door as he could manage, just watching everyone else. He wasn’t sure of what to do - of what could be done - and it seemed like most others didn’t either. Dante heard the voice ask about alcohol, and silently he rose the bottle he had carried in to his lips. It was near full still, but he took a sip and didn’t offer to give any away.

He watched her move towards the latter and, despite himself, he asked, “You think going up there will do any good?”

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bennett

“Not a man of the people, I presume? At least the type of people to show up to an event like this.” Bennett asked curiously, admittedly being a little bit taken aback by the attitude given off by the patron — but did he put any real blame on the man? Not at all. In all fairness, Bennett could think of a million other things he could be doing that didn’t involve being in civilian clothes amongst people he was briefly acquainted with. But, at the end of the day, this was what normal, sociable people did and the man had decided long ago that he was in the business of being one of those people.

A man of the people. Dante ducked his head, exhaling a brief cough of a laugh. The idea of him being that was ridiculous. He cared little for others, and those he did care for, the feelings stemmed from a place of selfishness and necessity ( the exception to that was Evelyn, though really his feelings towards her were a mystery to himself, and he vehemently refused to label it anything ). “ That’s certainly the understatement of the century. ” He pursed his lips before looking at the other man. “ If you’re looking for someone to chat and shoot the shit with, you’d be better off finding someone else to talk to. ” Dante turned slightly, angling himself away. Perhaps it was tactless, perhaps it was rude - he never claimed to be anything but.

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meredith

Location: Harlan Johnson’s Cornfield.

Who: Everybody and then some.

The last thing that Meredith wanted to do was sit around with a bunch of community members she didn’t particularly know, trying to gather moral for the town in times of despair when (admittedly) she felt as though her life was going down the toilet. It wasn’t, at the end of the day — she still had a wonderful job and a roof over her head, food in her belly as well, but her relationship was trashed and for the time being that was enough for the woman to consider alcoholism as a permanent profession. It was with a heavy heart that the woman would walk onto the grass in front of her, breaking the barrier of contact between her and the event she had been invited too.

It was a plan to meet a couple of her friends but, alas, she had come alone and would have to go on the hunt for them at her own accord. Bitches, Meredith thought in a rather sarcastic way, knowing that the only one deserving of the word right now was her. Getting caught in her own tangled web of thoughts, the woman didn’t realize that she had run directly into another person, side swiping them with her vigorous walking.

“Oh, Christ. I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.” She spoke out loud, allowing her hands to find the person on their arms so that they wouldn’t completely wipe out. “Got stuck in my own head. My eyes froze over.” The woman allowed a soft smile to land on her lips, hoping that the person she had just plowed down wouldn’t rip her head off for her less than exhuberant exterior.

There were few people in town that Dante knew, and he supposed that with time, he’d know more ( an ill suited effect of his being stuck here, not by any reason like being personable or friendly ). Really, he couldn’t be bothered with meeting people, he cared little for them. The strange exception were people who caught his attention, either by being beautiful or vicious, or being a dangerous combination of both. He drifted around this summer kick-off with little care ( he would laugh at the idea of actually ever enjoying it) and there was no mistaking by anyone that he did not want to be there. He was walking towards the drive-in screen when the woman walked into him. Dante paid no mind to the apology, instead drawing in on her own self-deprecating comment. “ If you hadn’t called yourself an idiot, I would have, ” his tone was dry, but there was no sense of humor in his tone, “ but I’m glad we agree on that. ” 

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bennett

Location: Harlan Johnson’s Cornfield.

Who: Anybody, surprise me.

Community social events were often an iffy subject for a man like Bennett Delaney. Despite the fact that he had been living in Blackvale for more than a year, the man was still struggling to find his place in the town outside of the hospital — this was made especially hard by the fact that, in most cases, he spent the majority of his time at work or thinking about being at work. He had developed the mindset in his early twenties that, at the end of the day, his work ethic was one thing that he could continue to improve on. It could only get better than the day before he had decided and, with a bit of luck and patience, everything had worked out for him well so far.

Blackvale was definitely a step in a different direction for the man, his high-end suits and lavish lifestyle not meshing overly well with the general vibe that the town gave off. But, ultimately, this was where the man was to build a life for the next couple of years — at the very least until he finished his fellowship and was offered a position elsewhere. And so, with that in mind, the practicing doctor would find himself parking his father’s old (and rather beaten up) truck just outside of the event as he stepped out. He had opted for a more casual look, the dress shirt being left behind and replaced with a navy colored shirt, the sleeves rolled up for the sake of aesthetic. Hands in pockets, the man moved toward the event, giving a pleasant nod and crooked smile to a few passersby.

“So tell me, what should I check out first? It’s my first of these kinds of shindigs.” Bennett murmured to the person standing beside him, someone who seemed to be trying to decide where to go in a similar fashion to how he was.

This was not the sort of place Dante belonged - not Blackvale, and sure as to hell not this bonfire they were having. Despite that, though, he was there anyways. He looked out of place, out of sorts, and he sorely wished he was anywhere else. Why did he come? That was uncertain. He had been bored in the days past, angry and bitter about his being stuck, and a part of him wondered if the crowd of people that would be drawn out would ensure something exciting to happen. He could only hope. Dante stalked through the crowd with a sour expression, not sure of what he was searching for. Everything so far was dull, trivial, and awfully mundane. Really, he rationalized to himself, he shouldn’t have expected this to be anything but. He was considering leaving. The sound of a voice caused him pause, though, stopping him, and he tilted his head partially as he considered the man’s question. “I think you’re asking the wrong person, sorry.” He didn’t sound the slightest bit apologetic. “You might want to consider asking someone who cares about being here. I think the most appealing thing about this evening is that eventually I’ll be going home.”

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evelyn

“I suppose I’ll just have to go back in time and remind myself to check out the magical properties of every single place we plan to visit.” A cage. It was what Blackvale had become in the hours since her discovery that the rumors milling about the town were true— no escape, trapped eternally, total loss of freedom; the confirmations each heralded a different sort of bitter complacency in the residents who dared voice them. The sort of restriction that Evelyn feared more than she let on with the masses, preferring to shroud herself in the promise of violence. It became easier to pigeonhole her own behavior than allow someone else to do so for her. “That was your decision, not mine.” She’d never granted him anything except the free will to do as he pleased, they were kindred spirits in that regard amongst others. Though now she had led him down a path of which neither party could return, even if they so desired… And God, did she want to get out of here. They both did. “Are you searching for an apology? Because you won’t find one in this bathroom.”

I trusted you to know better. It shouldn’t have struck her quite as forcefully as it did to hear those words fall from his mouth, the concept of anyone relaying trust in Evelyn Brooks a near hilarious concept, but him? Intimately familiar with the sins of a damned woman, yet willing to place faith in her all the same… In this moment she wished to be softer, not jagged around the edges and far less selfish in nature. “Dante,” she finally breathed his name whilst shifting in the sudsy water to clasp at the edge of the bathtub, chilled porcelain pressed against her chest as she crossed both arms over its edge. “Look at me.” Picturesque in innocence as wicked motives dripped from her honeyed tongue. “Don’t you know by now that I always have a plan?”

The way she was speaking to him was getting under his skin, the words pricking like needles, stinging and sharp. What bothered him the most was how blasé she sounded about this all, how calm even. She had some right to be chiding to him, he knew that entirely. He had expected too much of her (  and maybe, just maybe, he always did ) and perhaps that was his own mistake. Like her, though, he was too proud to admit fault. The taste of ego burned bitter on his tongue and he turned his face away. It seemed there was a near constant struggle for power between the two of them. Any slip, any owning of fault, it was a chance for the other to claw their way higher at the expense of the other. It was an unwinnable battle. 

Dante knew all too well that they couldn’t undo this, their coming to Blackvale - there was in fact ration and reason to the man who so often tended to only react and respond, never taking moment to think before doing - but he could wish. It was an uncommon thing for him to want something so desperately, to consider something so naive as a wish, and yet the burning desire to leave clawed at his chest. They hadn’t been there long, but already it was stifling, but only because of the knowledge they now had of the town being a cage. His head was reeling at the idea of being trapped. It was unsettling, disconcerting. An animal could only be caged for so long before losing control.

“I’m not foolish enough to expect such a thing from you.” He scoffed, shaking his head. The idea of her saying sorry was almost comical. He wondered briefly if she could even feel remorse. In all his years, he hadn’t. Of course he had made mistakes, had caused issue, but there was no regretting it. There was no dwelling on problem. He just moved forward. It had served him well this far to live that way. “But maybe I should leave anyways. I don’t think I’ll gain anything from being here.” He took a slow step towards the door, his gaze fixed forward.

Dante would say he was only humoring her by looking back, but really he couldn’t help be curious of what she would say next. “Do you now?” He folded his arms across his chest before shaking his head. “Of all those stuck here, what do you think you can do that they couldn’t? What makes you better than the rest?” He asked, exhaling sharply through his nose. He would doubt her until she proved him wrong. 

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evelyn:

“I fail to see how any of this is my fault.” Though she rarely accepted guilt as it were, forever poised to volley back the remnants of blame as if they burned to the touch. “How was I supposed to know that Blackvale had a barrier? How could either of us have known?” Smoke filtered between painted lips as she released it towards the ceiling above, bare legs shifting amidst her watery fortress as she spoke to the only creature capable of eliciting any semblance of generosity. Or at the very least, her version of it. “The water’s still warm. You could get in, you know… Promise to wipe that eternal scowl from your face and I just might make room for you.” @norrell

“You would.” Dante looked towards her, his expression blank before he pulled his gaze away with a scoff. It wouldn’t be a far stretch to say he was annoyed at the very least, but the two of them knew him far better than that. He was raging, seething silently where he stood, looking at her from behind a facade too cool to be genuine. Anger seared through him, through his veins, in his soul, and it would take time for him to forgive her for this ( though, maybe, he would never forgive her. instead, he’d just forget ). “I followed you here. I don’t care if you didn’t know - you should have. I trusted you to know better.” 

That meant something, it did. Dante was hardly affectionate in the traditional sense of the word, not the sort to hold hands or say gentle affectations in someone’s ear, and for him to utter trust in regard to Evelyn? Surely it was the nearest he’d ever get. “As tempting as that offer is,” he couldn’t help it as his eyes roamed over her figure, “I’d rather not.” He didn’t elaborate or expand on that. What good would it do? She knew why he was upset. Whether or not the blame really fell on her or if it were just a mistake, his frustrations were not unjust - and she was likely as irritated as he was.

But for him to deny something so physical between them? Uncommon.

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Dan Wells, Mr. Monster