→ ⚡️☢* bedelia
somehow she managed to salvage her over sized YSL sunglasses from whatever hellhole she crawled out of. bedelia yates was a woman of class, and even during the end of the world it was IMPORTANT for her to uphold her irrelevant status. compared to other rouges and raiders alike she seemed to be well off, better than the rest anyway. her CLEAN attire was enough to prove it. she looked, as if, she didn’t belong in the dirty streets of cheyenne but somewhere in one of the polished upscale malls in manhattan, new york — where she previously reigned. a gust of wind swept across her features and a DELICATE hand reached to grasp the end of her sunhat, preventing it from following the wind. ❝ oh dear. ❞ she started, her voice soft to mask the thick boston accent hidden underneath her PORCELAIN mask. ❝ i think i might be lost. ❞ she sounded strained —- devastated, even; but certainly someone as skilled as bedelia yates wasn’t lost. nor was she scared. she relied on the kindness of a stranger, not out of hope or dare she say companionship ?? but rather a GATEWAY into another camp or civilization that she could sink her claws into —- whether it was for her heart to heal or to be CORRUPTED even further. either way, bedelia wasn’t a damsel in distress but a DRAGON instead.
His upbringing was less than lavish -- his parents worked hard to keep them in their two bedroom house, their most expensive possession being their Honda. Upscale living was something he had only seen on the big screen; he didn’t get the glamorous and carefree life like the rich and famous. No one really did in Terre Haute; it was a sad middle class town known for it’s prison. Amir didn’t mind when he was younger, as he always saw the BETTER sides of things -- his hometown wasn’t a inadequate working town, but rather, a place where everyone he loved resided, with enough things for his SCHEMING hands to get into. Amir didn’t have any of that sunshine anymore, his optimism had faded away along with his SANITY, leaving him with a perpetual storm cloud over his head that would never clear. No matter how miserable he felt, he couldn’t deny helping someone; his parents taught him better. Glancing at the woman, Amir wondered how much she had been out since the apocalypse had began; it seemed like she was dressed for a Sunday brunch, and not dressed to survive. “انها تبدو مثل ” he grumbled, “Where are you trying to go?”
