#tlouxcnu

[boatlou-blog]

Good Golly Miss Molly || CNU & BoA

Boa dusted her hands as she closed the door behind her. It had been quite a few days, maybe a week or so, since she had stepped foot on the house-- gathering and trading wasn’t a very easy thing to do. She found herself venturing in the free districts, searching for goodies for herself and some to trade.

Luck wasn’t with her during her expedition, though, and she found herself in dangerous situations, more than necessary for the absolute nothing she found. Well, not nothing but, at least, nothing good enough to get her the food and ammo rations she was in need of. It was true, she still had her bow and arrow and her hunting knife but making the arrows took much more time than she had when in mortal situations and knives weren’t that great for distance combat, if at all. And, having to break into the Firefly or Military armories and storage to fulfill her needs wasn’t something she was looking forward with such low ammunition.

That’s why, when she got the message of deal from none other than Candyman, she couldn’t help but laugh. It was like a message sent from heaven, if she even believed in one. She made sure she got his message loud and clear before leaving to prepare for their little camping trip.

Filling a duffel bag with necessities for their trip-- med-kit, food, water, weapons, ropes, tape, inflatable raft, a bicycle pump, and two plastic oars-- she made sure to secure the house before leaving to their meeting place by the Han river. She made sure to arrive early to the river as to inflate the boat before hand and not waste precious time.

Boa looked up at the sky before gazing down to the reflection of sun in the water once she was done inflating the raft. It had been a while since she went out for a splash and, she guessed, now was good as any day to do so.

@tlouxcnu

[jihyoxtlou]

.red in my ledger .cnu

@tlouxcnu

There seemed to be three particular ways in which Jihyo woke up: groaning in fear from a nightmare, groaning in annoyance at the world, or groaning in pain.

Today was the last one, pain flashing through her faster than the memories did. They were vague recollections of the hours? day? days? before, fragmented and jittery, shaky as her breathing.

There had been an old abandoned house and Infected and running -- so much fucking running all the time, as if she could never ever just walk anywhere -- Her hurry and her adrenaline (her desperation) had made her throw caution in the wind, and now her leg was throbbing in protest. She could almost feel the long cut from where she’d forced herself through a half-open broken window.

There had been more running, gunshots, bandits. They’d taken her backpack, and she’d fucking suffered for that backpack, so she’d punched him, and he’d punched her back, right in the face. Hm. That explained why she could barely see through one eye. Great, mystery solved. Then -- Then more running, running from them, cuts and bruises all over, fighting them off on a stairwell, a broken escalator.

Right. Metro station. She’d thought she could hide there, but they’d found her, and she’d taking a machete right to the arm, kicking him back -- losing her balance and falling, tumbling, crashing down, into the darkness.

Maybe that’s why her shoulder hurts like hell.

But it sure as hell does not explain why she’s laying next to a campfire, why she’s obviously in someone’s... camp? home? or why they Infected didn’t rip her apart while she wasn’t awake.