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@helosther
“Hey there lil’ girl! Come over ‘ere! Your uncle Tommy’s got something to show you.” It was a small enveloppe, a little surprise waiting to be revealed, though he knew it would crown him ‘best uncle’ within moments. He was one of those lucky ‘bastards’ to get his hands on tickets to one of her favorite bands. Perhaps Joel would think the music was rubbish, but he himself could enjoy it from time to time. And why wouldn’t he surprise his niece like this?
@helosther
“Well I was kind of thinking we could take their shit and just you know go, I mean they’re obviously assholes so...”
Five year old Sarah hasn't stopped chattering and bouncing around the house since Joel got home. She's normally quieter--or at least, isn't speaking a mile a minute and insisting that she monkey around on literally -every- ounce of furniture. Tommy was a great uncle and babysitter, but when it came to denying his niece sugar? Well... His sheepish grin and the box of ice pops he was trying to stuff back into the freezer said it all.
“The hell did yer uncle give you? Red bull mixed with pixie sticks.” Joel shoots daggers at his brother in the kitchen. “I hope ya know she’s sleepin at yer house tonight.”
@helosther liked for a starter
David had been out hunting and was on his way back to camp. He’s surprised to find a child out here wandering alone, “Hey little dove, a-are you lost?” His tone soft and gentle as to not startle you.
@helosther || boop
“Oh shi–!” The word doesn’t even have time to fully come out before the air is knocked from her lungs. The base of her skull cracked against the wall as Andi slammed into her, sending pain spiking through her head.
“Andi!” Sarah struggled to brace her palms against his shoulders. She had only seen the vampire frenzied like this a few times. Sometimes it was because he had tried to go too long without a meal and sometimes it was just paranoia. She couldn’t blame him for the latter. “Andi! It’s me! It’s Sarah!”
His growl only grew in intensity. His arm pressed across her collar bone- if he pressed it to her throat, it would be harder to reach with his teeth. Like this, he almost wasn’t better than an infected. He was only thinking about eating, and surviving. Sound reached his ears, pressure was laid on his shoulders, but he couldn’t process the information. He pressed back, leaning in close. The smell of her blood was completely mesmerizing, and it was hard to focus on anything past that. But she was practically shouting in his ear at this point, and some of the noise was making it through. He gave a grunt, confusion on his face as he gave her another look, eyes searching features this time instead of merely seeking threats. When he growled again it was almost a question, rather than a noise meant to threaten.
with every bill hater i turn into a bill lover, i grow more powerful
☆ + "No offense, but... you're really cheerful. Are you okay?"
“Nope. But as long as you make jokes and have a grin on your face, no one bothers to dig deeper- and I don’t want them to dig deeper.”
Night Gathers Its Tatters
helosther
Sawyer wanted so desperately to be brave.
His father was brave. Hard and unforgiving, with a critical eye that could cut his only son down to size in an instant, but brave. A military man through and through, sworn to God, country, and family. In that order. He was brave, even in the face of the infected neighbour smashing through the driver side window of the family’s station wagon. Without question, without hesitation, he grabbed the madman’s head and drove it down, stabbing broken glass through his throat and bleeding him out in seconds. It wasn’t enough to stop the infected behind that one from grabbing him and half-dragging him out of the car, biting and clawing the skin from his face while he screamed at his wife and child to run. But it was brave.
His mother was brave. It was quiet courage, not the forceful hurricane of willpower her husband exhibited. But she didn’t waver, even for a second, when the soldiers at the blockade raised their rifles and aimed them squarely at her as she slowly stepped out of the shadows, hands raised and shaking. Her voice was calm, belying the sleepless days and nights of terror, as she entreated them to let her and her son pass. She fell silent when they opened fire in panic, thinking the scratch on her arm was an infected bite, and fell to the ground with the same dignity that defined her in life. Sawyer sobbed as he ran from the bullets chasing after him, back into the woods they had been so eager to leave behind. Back into the dark, the unknown.
Where he met Sarah.
Sarah was brave. She was young, only slightly less so than himself, and scared -- maybe as much as he was -- but she was brave. An only child like him, but she had a way about her that made him think she would have made a great big sister. There was a kindness and sharp wit about her that would have lent itself greatly to humour, though there weren't that many reasons to be funny these days. She found other uses for it, like convincing a truck driver and his wife to let them tag along on their route to the D.C. Quarantine Zone -- said to be the biggest and most secure QZ still standing, where the government was holding out strong.
The truck driver -- Phil -- would have left them behind, Sawyer felt certain, but his wife Diane was soft-hearted and didn’t take much convincing. Even now that they were slower, weaker with two kids in tow, and she and her husband argued almost constantly, she was true to her word so far that they would be looked after.
Their last fight had been the worst one yet. Despite the need for quiet out here in the woods (”roads are too dangerous”, Phil had gruffly explained, when Sarah politely asked), the husband and wife had practically screamed at each other over the ration situation -- namely, who got what and how much. Diane insisted that Sawyer and Sarah get more, and was prepared to sacrifice her own supply for them, but Phil wouldn’t hear of it and demanded to know why they were weakening themselves for “a couple of strays”.
It was frightening. And exhausting. But brave people don’t complain, and Sawyer was determined to be brave. They would be at the QZ soon, where they could finally be free of each other. Sarah would find her dad, and he...he would find something.
The makeshift camp was mercifully quiet now that the arguing had stopped. Or paused, at least. Sawyer looked up from the stick he was sharpening -- for no other reason than to keep his hands busy, and to make use of the knife Phil grudgingly let him carry -- to see Diane still pretending to be asleep. Her husband occupied himself by pouring over their worn, crinkled map of the area, jotting down the odd note to himself here and there.
Sawyer’s gaze drifted over toward Sarah, brows furrowing together a little.
“Do you think he’s gonna take off on us?” he whispered.
