Endless Rise and Fall

Truffula Flu AU Blog for the-red-onceler We will face the odds against us And run into the fear we run from It has begun

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Let’s Go Zombies

I found a new cloak now that it’s gotten colder. Plus, you don’t have to clean blood out of it. Practical and stylish.

Ready to take on the apocalypse.

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are you all alone out there?

Yes…

And no.

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do you travel much, or mostly stay at home?

I don’t really have a home anymore.

My factory…

Well.

It isn’t safe anymore.

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is there anything strange about those thneeds?

Those weird blue ones?

Not that I saw really…although I think I did mention that they didn’t smell right.

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I guess I’ll try the radio though...

“Hello? Does this work...?”

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Most of the boxes were just more of the red and pink thneeds.

Except...this last one...it didn’t have the same markings as the others either.

Is that a radio?

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Well...it’s gotten to the point where the green beans are starting to look appetizing.

I suppose that means I should...leave here...

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But what color are the Thneeds?

What color? What color should they be?

They’re red and…and pink.

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Do you still have your abilities?

My…what?

I think the only ‘ability’ I ever had was conning people into believing that everybody needs a thneed…

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How did you get here?

How did I…?

I…I don’t know. I was outside–wandering.

And then there was a house, they said it was safe–the others who were there.

But something happened. It wasn’t safe, nothing was safe. They were coming for us.

I…I ran…I don’t know what happened to the others.

And now I’m here.

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Are you hungry?

Always.

I found some Who Hash in someone’s closet, but I finished my last can yesterday.

Now I just have one can of green beans but…I’m…saving that one until I’m really desperate.

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Where are you, Red? Are you safe?

Where…am I?

I am…I…

I am…Alone

And…safe?

No…no I don’t remember what being safe is like…

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A Town

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house-of-refuge:

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“O…kay,” very hesitantly, Red removed the mask and took a deep breath of air, “Um…thank you?” 

For a second he just stood there, feeling out of place, but upon the mention of  somewhere to clean up, he nodded, and moved slowly towards the stairs, instinctively keeping an eye on the other occupants of the house. Just because it looked nice didn’t mean it WAS. He’d made that mistake before and almost paid for it with his life.

The little orange dog followed him, as though it was keeping an eye on him for a similar reason.

Though there was something off about the cabin, maybe it was the fact that both people down stairs seemed completely unbothered by Red, going so far as to turn theyre backs to him. Which begs the quiestion of not only why they’re risking their own safty, to how they can act like it’s every other day in a boring life.

None of this was helped by the orange dogs big green eyes staring at him so intensely, not at all like a normal animal was capable of.

In three words, Red ‘Didn’t Like It.’ At all. He kept a wary eye on the dog, and often flicked his eyes to the rest of the house as he went, not really letting go of the death grip he’d just gotten used to having on his scythe. 

He automatically checked his corners at the top of the stairs, so as not to have anything jump out at him before he promptly made his way to the bathroom.

He was honestly kind of surprised to see his face--much gaunter than he remembered. It actually made him look younger, his green eyes looking enormous. Red was so, so happy to splash some water on his face, washing off the coat of grime that seemed to stick to almost everything after awhile now, but he didn’t take off his gloves.

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A Town

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house-of-refuge:

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It was so very odd to Red how they answered the door–it did feel just like he was visiting someone and that the world hadn’t ended. And that was the very thing that made it feel so weird. He’d grown used to the unusual.

Sot he girl’s appearance didn’t phase him much, but he did scan her very carefully to make sure he didn’t detect a whiff of Z from here. Once he was sure, he slowly, warily stepped into the building.

“Thank…you,” his voice was rusty from disuse, and he cleared his throat before continuing.

“There were signs…in town. Saying to come here.”

“Well that was the point of putting them up.”

The cabin itself, while on the outside looked like the setup for a horror film, the inside was like something from an catolog you’d get in the mail, warm and cozy. The small lady closed the door behind him and went back to the couch to read her book as a small orange dog sat on the arm chair watching Red closely.

Otis peaked out from the kitchen door way,“You don’t need that mask here, the virus has already been filtered from the air.” The rather big man went back to cooking.

“You can sit down anywhere if you want, and dinner will be done shortly.”

“If you want to clean up the bathrooms upstairs.” Loreley added not taking her eyes off her book.

In general, the two seemed rather use to this, not the mention unbothered by it. The place had been named the House of Refuge, which obviously meant they must have seen their fair share of survivors coming and going, not to mention what ever creepers happened by, though nothing inside the cabin said that they had any trouble.

“O...kay,” very hesitantly, Red removed the mask and took a deep breath of air, “Um...thank you?” 

For a second he just stood there, feeling out of place, but upon the mention of  somewhere to clean up, he nodded, and moved slowly towards the stairs, instinctively keeping an eye on the other occupants of the house. Just because it looked nice didn’t mean it WAS. He’d made that mistake before and almost paid for it with his life.

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A Town

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house-of-refuge:

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Red read the signs as he went, and when he saw the cabin ahead in the woods, he paused, wondering, for a moment, if this was really the best decision. But he couldn’t help noticing the delicious smell that wafted through the air–apparently coming from the smoking chimney.

Slowly, he approached, keeping a careful eye out in case there were any traps or something to prevent zombie attacks, until he got to the front door. Standing there felt so weirdly–normal. Like he was just visiting someone.

Very slowly, he raised his hand to knock.

His voice was creaky from disuse as he cleared his throat, “Um…h-hello?”

From inside the cabin was a small barking sound, which sounded like it was coming coming from a small dog.

“Loreley, could you get the door please, I got my hands full,” A voice from inside said.

After a few moments and the sound of small foot steps, the old doorknob turned slowly and the door creaked open, revealing a very small young woman, who at first glance looked like a ten year old.

She had long curly black hair, skin that was very pale, and her eyes were colored black as she stared up at him quietly.

After a few second the small lady stepped aside, letting him in.

“Come in,” she said with a dull tone.

It was so very odd to Red how they answered the door--it did feel just like he was visiting someone and that the world hadn’t ended. And that was the very thing that made it feel so weird. He’d grown used to the unusual.

Sot he girl’s appearance didn’t phase him much, but he did scan her very carefully to make sure he didn’t detect a whiff of Z from here. Once he was sure, he slowly, warily stepped into the building.

“Thank...you,” his voice was rusty from disuse, and he cleared his throat before continuing.

“There were signs...in town. Saying to come here.”

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A Town

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house-of-refuge:

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Red read and reread the note a few times, trying to figure out what he wanted to do. At this point, he really did want to talk to someone–anyone–who wasn’t dead. Before he went totally insane.

So he supposed he was going to follow the instructions–at least to see if there was anything there. He wasn’t going to barge in but maybe, just maybe, there would be something better. 

Although he wasn’t too happy about walking into the dead forest, and as he approached, he did his best to breathe deeply through his mask and clutched his scythe close, keeping a lookout for the promised cabin.

At the forest opening of the forest was a black metal gate, and past it was a place full of black and twisted trees, the grickle grass crunching under him as he walked through the fog that filled the area. It was like instinct, like he somehow already knew the way to the cabin.

The forest was quiet, the animals that still lives there moved with little sound and stayed just out of sight.

Everynow and again he would come across wooden signs telling him he was on the right path.

The place was appearantly once called “House of Odities, Marvels & Magic.”

But was now refered to as, “House of Refuge” whoever owned the cabin had turned it into a place for survivors to come to.

Red read the signs as he went, and when he saw the cabin ahead in the woods, he paused, wondering, for a moment, if this was really the best decision. But he couldn’t help noticing the delicious smell that wafted through the air--apparently coming from the smoking chimney.

Slowly, he approached, keeping a careful eye out in case there were any traps or something to prevent zombie attacks, until he got to the front door. Standing there felt so weirdly--normal. Like he was just visiting someone.

Very slowly, he raised his hand to knock.

His voice was creaky from disuse as he cleared his throat, “Um...h-hello?”

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A Town

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house-of-refuge:

The note was neatly written and easy to read for anyone who happened upon it.

On the back of the note were directions to the road that was mentioned in the writing.

Now the question was whether to use the information given.

Red read and reread the note a few times, trying to figure out what he wanted to do. At this point, he really did want to talk to someone--anyone--who wasn’t dead. Before he went totally insane.

So he supposed he was going to follow the instructions--at least to see if there was anything there. He wasn’t going to barge in but maybe, just maybe, there would be something better. 

Although he wasn’t too happy about walking into the dead forest, and as he approached, he did his best to breathe deeply through his mask and clutched his scythe close, keeping a lookout for the promised cabin.