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theaxelcole‌:

He rolled his eyes at one of the farmers in the camp. He knew her- she was trouble. “I wasn’t trying to make some stupid speech. My job is to keep them safe- keep them alive and that’s what I’m doing. They don’t need rainbows and fake smiles. The shit show outside these walls can’t be sugar coated. They should be scared. It’s the goddamn apocalypse. Dog shit rolled in glitter is still dog shit. Speaking of, don’t you have manure to plow or something?” 

“One,” she says, raising her middle finger, “you should be nicer to me. I handle your food. Just saying. And”—she lifts her index finger as well—“two, bozo, you’re missing the entire freaking point. I didn’t suggest sunshine and rainbows and fake smiles and sugar coating. Keeping it real and giving people a shred of hope are totes not mutually exclusive. Look, I’m all for a healthy amount of fear but too much of it clouds people’s judgements. Panic equals bad decisions. Does that sound safe to you?” 

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“Really? That was your speech?” Mary Kate is wearing a frown, her hands on her hips. Pathetic. “I’m not trying to step on your toes or whatever, but you’re supposed to be, like, our fearless leader. The Riders are coming to butcher us, and all you have to say is ‘bring in more people and food?’ Where are your words of empowerment? People are scared, it’s your job to build them up, make them feel brave.”

This was the political bullshit that his father hated and honestly, Axel was hating it already. The riders were coming, though and they would likely destroy anything and anyone in their path. It had to be done. “Listen up!” He addressed those that were below him. In the crowd were his people, rogues and even some from the neighboring camps. “You should have all heard the announcement from the tower so here it is: I’m opening Serotonin to anyone that wants to come. I’m not holding anyone’s hand if they don’t want to be here but if anyone here has friends- family, that you want safe, here is the safest place we can be. More people, more defense. Simple as that. Go get your people! Bring food you want to share, we all gotta eat. Alright, that’s it.” He stepped away from the edge and rejoined his people. 

@toxinstarters​

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“Oh, my God, chillax, it’s just me,” Mary Kate says, snickering and rolling her eyes at her fellow member of the Camp Serotonin squad. What a dork. “You seriously need to work on your intimidation technique. You seemed totally afraid to attack. Although, your kill was capital B badass. I mean until you fell on your ass.”

She tucks a bunch of freshly picked wildflowers into her (super retro, super cute) canvas backpack. A visiting technician from Ailton Tower let her keep some wire after she went on and on about how it would make a perfect flower crown base. 

“You’re okay, right? You, like, almost got squashed under all that dead weight.” Hah!

The person, thing, whatever it was, whoever they had been, was considerably taller than Mariella, but seemed to be slowed down on account of a broken ankle. Quickly weighing her options before making a final decision, she decidedly dashed forward and plunged her knife into it’s skull. Like a light went off, the thing ceased to struggle. But instead of falling away from her, the figure toppled forward, threatening to knock her back and trap her underneath it’s weight. Light enough on her feet that she was able to jump back in time, she still came falling to the ground in the process. The snap of a branch nearby alerted her of company as she gathered her bearings, quickly moving to grab her knife from the formerly undead’s skull. “I’m armed, and uh, not afraid to attack if you get too close.” She lied, but gave her best go at being intimidating. Once the knife was back in her possession she scrambled to her feet, turning to face whoever it was that approached.

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msplacedsrvor‌:

Despite himself, Thomas can’t help but laugh lightly at her response. Her words and their delivery elicit it out of him as a surprise to himself, and he stops it rather fast, ending what could have been amusement in a hearty, albeit soft chuckle.

Still, getting to react like that in the first place, when he’d been convinced he wouldn’t smile anymore until his very demise - although, maybe then - it gives him a feeling that could have been equalled to the smallest drops of hope, if he’d have the courage to even consider that word-letter word.

With a smile now on his lips, Thomas sighs and lifts his head to meet her gaze. “I see. But what if running away would ensure that all that,” and he gestures in her direction, one corner of his lips twitching in amusement at the idea of re-using some of her words, “would remain safe? What if leaving Serotonin behind would keep you alive?”

He toys with the bandages in his hand, admiring the darker spots on the fabric, remnants of wounds that involved more than a little blood. “I’m not… genuinely suggesting it. I wouldn’t leave this camp behind, either. But what if we’re forced to? Where would you go?” Where could I possibly go?

She returns the smile, bubbling with pride. Intentional or not, she’s good at getting laughs. She’s not good at much in this new world, but that she can do. And it’s super not cool how often people belittle her talent. Hello?! Social bonding and endorphins are kind of crucial in the apocalypse! And it’s like, what’s the point of fighting tooth and nail to survive every day if you can’t find a reason to feel happy every once in a while?

“Okay. Good. No deserters on my watch, Lieutenant Medic,” she says, tossing a pointed look his way. His question sobers her up some, though. She works dirt out from under her fingernails while she considers it. “I guess...I’d go north. You know, since those monsters are moving south. I could handle the leftover carnage to keep all this safe.” What? It's funny, and he’s actually playing along.

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“Hard pass. All this”—Mary Kate gestures up and down herself—“is way too cute for a gang of sleazeballs to botch up and parade around on their disgusting sleazemobile.” 

Numbers equal survival, right? Or at least, they equal better odds. 

“Also, running away is so not my style.” 

Don’t get it twisted; she’s terrified, always looking over her shoulder like she’s out there again. But the thing is this camp is the first place where she’s felt at home since everything went to shit. They’re not just surviving here. They’re building a new start, something worth fighting for. And there’s nothing she loves more than ripping bullies new assholes. 

open starter

The most difficult part was admitting that even this fragile pretence of normalcy he’d fought so hard to keep up, has been shattered as easily as a single layer of thin ice, over an already melting lake.

He has a little radio, not something he could use to contact anyone with - and he’s tried, lord, he’s tried, the hope of ever seeing his family again hadn’t waned at the time - but one functional enough to capture Ailton’s signal. It’d been propped up on his desk while he was working on refilling one of the medkits lying around. Bandage rolls and plasters and gauzes and even a single bottle of hydrogen peroxide, something he’d always used reluctantly, especially now; they had lied on the wooden surface all safe for the bottle, who had found its home dropped to the ground the moment the full extent of the broadcast had registered in Thomas’s name.

Now, he’s simply standing there, trembling fingers toying with the bandage he’d been handed. He’d been quiet; when they’d walked in, when he’d noticed what they wanted, when they’d spoken to him. But now he says something, a single, half-mumbled phrase. “Maybe we should just leave and never look back.”

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MY SKIN IS SOFT LIKE VELVET,  BUT MY NAILS ARE RAZOR SHARP.

( ashley benson. 29. she/her. ) we spotted MARY KATE DIETRICH around toledo today, just another gear in the machine of the apocalypse. i heard she is a FARMER for SEROTONIN. i guess it fits, seeing as she is known to be resilient & wise, as well as ditzy & lazy. they often have diamond hard by kerli stuck in their head while they work. i wonder if they’re prepared for what’s coming ? 

mary kate is essentially your stereotypical valley girl with more depth. she has a degree in psychology, and before the world went to shit, she was a “teen guru” aka high school guidance counsellor.

you can call her mary kate, kate or mk, but she hates when people call her mary (’cause, like, does she look like a virgin who gave birth in a smelly old barn?).

her introduction to the apocalypse was the presumably “super rabid” principal of the school she worked at lumbering into her office and trying to bite her. “brian, i know i’m a snack, but what the fuck?”

her adaptability, cleverness, resilience, charisma and ability to cut a bitch, dead or alive, have helped her survive. 

she arrived at camp serotonin six months ago.

she hates farming, and she’s terrible at it. getting up early to do manual labour until sundown isn’t her thing. unfortunately, she lacks the skills for any of the other jobs. she’s the least productive farmer, often getting distracted by other people, frequent sunbathing breaks and the perfect grass to make a bangle bracelet out of. despite that, she does an acceptable amount of work. non-farmers often offer to help her as an excuse to talk to her. she considers herself the unofficial therapist of the camp.

i hate intros, and i’m recovering from a migraine, so this is what you get!! i’m emily, coming at you from the est timezone. can’t wait to meet, plot and interact with all of you! :)