#twenty-eight

[cairina-photography]

Australian Ringneck (Twenty-eight × Port Lincoln Ringneck, I think)

Perth, Western Australia (2023)

[yasammydaily]

Fire and thunder fill the air, and Sammy pulls Yaz closer as Darius's last-ditch effort yields explosive results.

[kattricia]

they're playing a tribute to avicii on the radio and i'm absolutely gutted because his death remains one of the most devastating losses in swedish music history – and also a brutal reminder of how creative labor is exploited under capitalism.

[dlthedescent]

TWENTY-EIGHT: BIRDS OF A FEATHER

“Please help us!” the jumping survivor hollered.

A moment ago, he was at his lowest. And when his friend spotted smoke in the distance, streaming away, he thought he was pulling his leg.

No one used the tracks anymore, not since the city fell and the virus spread into the Border. 

But the noises of a train grew louder. And for a second, he almost couldn’t believe what he saw—a moving train. In all of this chaos.

Meaning survivors.

A chance!

So they both darted to the tracks. He frantically bounced up and down, praying for the driver to see them. Please, stop the train! 

At first, he thought they didn’t. That they would ignore them. Then out of the front cab bolted a brunette in a flashy red jacket. And after her, a hooded guy as the train behind them slowed to a crawl.

Thank goodness! There really were people!

And yet, the problem swarming after them. All because he yelled as loud as he could.

Flicking his gaze sideways, his eyes back to his friend fighting off a Biter.

Anyone would know: any loud noise would attract the Virals. One was already closing in, sprinting full tilt toward them, its ragged shrieks cutting through the air.

The other survivor still had his blade in the infected’s chest, shoving its corpse away.

He didn’t have enough time to react to the next walker.

“Atlas!” 

Whack!

Like a broken marionette, the Viral toppled down to the ground before it reached the two survivors.

Jack stepped in—a quick pivot, a firm stance—swung her weapon and cracked open its skull like a watermelon. She planted herself as the survivors’ shield for the next infected lunging from the left.

A blur shot at the charging Biter.

Crane sank his taloned into its skull. A sickening crunch into dirt, then he twisted its head with inhuman ease. He tossed the body aside and turned, already scanning for the next threat.

Broad daylight, and outside one of densest areas of the Border? The common stragglers came hounding after the humans.

And yet, something was off. Two, three Biters could turn into a horde—not even Jack would linger too long, forced to go high ground or somewhere safe before it got too overwhelming. She had expected more Biters to come stumbling from the bushes and the faraway alleys.

A few Virals in the back skidded to a stop, angry. Snarling. Before they slunk back into the shadows.

Strange behavior. Was something holding them back? 

Or was it because of Freakazoid with how intense his glare had been towards them?

It hadn’t been the first time those uncommon infected showed hostility toward one another, like animals guarding their territory against a bigger threat.

She’d count it a blessing as she hammered at another persistent Biter. One by one, each taken down by the survivor with his knife, Jack and Crane until the handful of Biters lay motionless at their feet.

“Everyone in one piece?” Jack turned to the two survivors, already shifting gears into taking control of the situation.

“Yeah,” the survivor with the knife said, catching his breath. 

His friend stumbled forward, the panic and hope still evident in his eyes. “Please. You have to help us!”

“Tell us what happened,” Jack said softly. Her presence as always, calm and ironclad.

“It’s Rais’ men.”

The answer was almost expected. In the middle of an outbreak, there would be one out of three main problems: the walkers, bandits or on a rare day, GRE. So to Jack, it was another day for the unfortunate. Like at the Outskirts, and in Scanderoon.

Nothing new but nothing good either.

Jack glanced at her partner. Just as he had a disdain at the banner from earlier, he gave that same expression when hearing the name like a curse he couldn't shake off.

“They’ve taken our safe zone. Doing whatever they want and taking supplies.”

“The usual,” Freakazoid spat. 

The survivor nodded, recognizing the hardened certainty in the hooded man’s tone—he had crossed paths with those bandits before. “Ever since their leader bit the dust, they’ve gotten worse than before. Like animals.”

“Survival of the fittest,” Jack pointed, the old saying holding so true in times like this.

“How long ago?” Freakazoid then quickly asked, all prepared to jump into his heroics.

“Thirty minutes ago,” the survivor answered. “If it weren’t for Atlas here, we wouldn’t have been able to sneak out.”

“Saw your smoke from afar,” the other survivor, Atlas, explained. “Figured we could get help.”

“Where’s your safe zone?” Jack added the next question.

“The Night Market. Please, you have to bring backup and stop those bandits,” Atlas’ friend begged.

Jack smiled. “You already have it.”

“Wha-” He looked at her, baffled. Then at her partner. “You’re not planning to fight them off by yourselves?”

“Keep an eye out on our train, would you, hons?”

Jack wheeled on her heel, off to the direction of the Night Market—she remembered visiting it once long before the outbreak. Several blocks in, meaning they’d have to cut through the infected to make their way there.

Crane’s footsteps matched Jack’s as he followed her without hesitation. No questions, no second thoughts.

It was back onto the saddle, something he had fully prepared since returning back to Harran. He had already enough experience dealing with the likes of them in the Slums. Same with Alexander’s men in Scanderoon.

He wasn’t about to let any thug run rampant like always. 

The survivor stared, wide-eyed, at the two Runners. The very place they had escaped with their lives to find help, and they were going into danger without a second thought!

Those were bandits!

He wanted to call them back—they were going to get themselves killed!—but Atlas stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a knowing look.

Those two Runners had a job to do, and they were going to see it through.

His friend swallowed hard, reluctantly watching their saviors shrink into the distance.

All they could do was hope. As he had been hoping since the start.

The Night Market had seen better days.

Ever since Harran fell into quarantine, life in the Border’s zones had teetered on the edge of chaos and collapse. Then the virus seeped out of the Slums’ cracks months ago.

Like every other ward and district, they became homes for the infected.

The market was a hush of its former self, and yet ironically still clung to life. Its streets and bricked paths used to have a lively buzz of voices and bartering, stalls brimmed with food and goods.

Now, only silence and tension filled the once-thriving marketplace.

The iron-wrought fence barricading the Night Market had been the residents’ main barricade since the early days of the outbreak. Then reinforced it with more defenses to call it their Safe Zone. Their home.

Who would have expected it would end up trapping them the moment the bandits forced their way in?

“Quit wasting my time.”

One old resident could do nothing but compel—head down, held by the collar, as he was shoved into the same huddle in the far back as the others. A hit to the eye, because he helped those two young men escape.

“What are we going to do about those escapees?” 

“Those freaks will eat them anyway.”

There was a time when the focus was on the infected. Then a time when bandits, scavengers and power-hungry deserters became a second problem. Then that problem escalated in the form of yellow and black. 

These bandits were everywhere now.

“There’s still that smoke we saw.”

“Who cares. C’mon. Take everything you can carry.”

“There’s nothing else, Kasper,” one of the bandits snapped back. “This place is as bare bone as the rest of the district.”

Kasper, the one taking lead on this ragtag band, grimaced. No, they couldn’t be that short of supplies.

Things hadn’t been the same since the Slums. Several groups had been out raiding, then they returned to the Headquarters to find most of everyone dead. One thing led to another—they made their way into the Border in the recent weeks since.

They had to keep going. Adapting. Surviving.

That had been the change in their philosophy. It was like starting all over again in the early days of the pandemic.

And the days of easy pickings were long gone. Every place they hit was either already picked clean or too dangerous to bother with. Same with this recent raid.

What everyone had gathered so far wouldn’t last them for two weeks.

“Where the hell is Grim at?” he then asked.

“We don’t know. Guy’s already a lost cause, isn’t he?” one of the rookies scoffed.

It didn’t help that their number was shrinking, despite their cautious vigilance. Every other day or so, they’d lose one to a Viral or Volatile. And even if they could survive an encounter, a bite would doom them. There hadn’t been Antizin for months.

They were all too scattered for any form of structure.

Rais’ gang had been crumbling down. 

“Maybe we should call it quits.”

“Are you serious?” one snapped, baffled to hear such a daring suggestion.

“You heard me. Rais is dead. We haven’t heard anything from Kaan either!”

Those words hung in the air, like an unspoken truth. They had no leader. No clear purpose. No reason to keep fighting for scraps. The fire they had a month ago had dwindled down to embers.

They all knew it.

“He was insane to believe there was something in the Countryside.”

Yes, he was. Kasper agreed quietly. 

But still, they were banking on him succeeding…whatever it was.

Then radio silence since. Meaning he was dead too. 

“Face it. It doesn’t matter if any of us get infected.. We’re all good as dead.”

Story continues on at these links: FFN and AO3.

[theficpusher]

Human Zoo by jaerie | E | 1209 Harry is a hybrid that was captured for display in an isolated country far from home. Someone from his past could be a savior, but he has other plans.

Twenty-Eight by beardyboyzx | M | 1499 "Can't believe you finally caught him," Niall says, clapping him on the back. He's been there with him on his very first mission, when Twenty-Eight was just the first criminal Harry encountered in his spy career to them. or: Agent Harry Styles has finally caught his nemesis, but there's a knot in the plot he's not ready to detangle.

routine surveillance by disgruntledkittenface | E | 2680 Harry’s training period for the Bureau consists of routine surveillance. One night, it becomes a little less routine.

The Night Market by Anonymous | E | 3000 It’s to earn a bit of extra spending money and have a bit of fun while doing it, that’s all. Harry examines his reflection in the mirror as Niall does up the back of his outfit. The clothes he wore on the train here are already safely tucked away in a locker, along with the key to the thick, heavy collar around his neck. The little green light shines from the centre of it, indicating that he’s available.

excuses for adultery by Anonymous | E | 3588 Louis asks for a break from sex, Harry finds a way to get his needs met. Louis finds his way to get revenge.

Knot's Farms by Anonymous | E | 4774 Hybrid travel visas are much stricter than laws for human travel. About twenty more hoops to jump through, and five times the cost. Louis’ proud, so proud of Harry going off on his first big tour, but he’s realistic, too. They would see barely a dime of that money if they had to spend on a hybrid EU visa. So, he’s spending ten days at Knot’s Farms, one of the higher rated hybrid kennel agencies.

the trolley problem by ThereAreOnlySecrets | E | 7350 In front of him are three men of different ages, but with similar distressed looks on their faces. Beaten and bloody, each one tied to a chair. Panicked, Louis backs away from the sight - and straight into a solid, muscled chest. “What - what is this?” “Oh, this is a little problem I thought you could help me with,” Harry murmurs into his ear lightly. “You see, these three men betrayed me, baby. And I want your help in deciding which one to make an example out of. Now, it’s a very simple game. I will put on a ten-minute timer and by the end of the countdown, you will tell me which one of these very distraught and scared men deserves to die. If you don’t choose anyone…Well, then I will kill all three of them.” This is not how Louis thought his day would go. Please let this be a sick, twisted joke...

The Revelation by creamcoffeelou | E | 8373 Harry feels his edges start to unravel. He can’t find where he ends and where Louis begins.

Lick the Knife by larry_hiatus | E | 13303 Three things about Harry: 1. He wants all of his exes dead. 2. He has a blood kink. 3. He’s Louis’ roommate. Three things about Louis: 1. He’s a serial killer. 2. He hates Harry. 3. He also kind of loves him.

[pagesofserene]

28 Days After: THOUGHTS ON TURNING 28

Well, here I am 28 days after turning 28 in a pensive mood. I have been waiting for this age because it will only come once in my lifetime. There are 2 things that I have been looking forward to when it comes to age and birthdays. The first one was turning 28 years old on the 28th of March. The second one would be celebrating my birthday on March 28, 2028. As you can guess, it has to do with the…

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[larrylimericks]

28Feb21

With bated breath, Louies waited, Fresh merch much anticipated. The day came and went, New gear stayed absent— Perhaps we over-Twenty-Eighted™.

[jillian-mckenzie]

Grateful for all that I've been blessed with. ♡