cheshlersgrin-blog

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

He waited and waited, expecting everything to disappear, but it never came. Standing on his feet, he looked down at her. Then it dawned on him.

She was real. Beaten, tired, and worse for the wear, but real. 

He felt a twinge of relief, and sighed. His hands reached for her cheeks, holding her face in his palms sternly.

"You're here, you're real. Dear girl how are you here? How are you not dead?"

He shook his head, dismissing his own questions. Quickly he pulled her into his arms in a tight grip, embracing her, with no plans of letting go.

"Never mind that, you're here. And you're never leaving my sight again."

As their eyes met, shock replaced the brief fire that had taken over Blithe. Her eyes widened and her lips fell slack - the effect was only momentary, however. In a second her face was composed again, steel laced with ice, eyes cold as she watched Chesh fall to his knees. She let him speak, silent as his closed his eyes and flinched as if fearing a blow.

“You’re back, are you?” was all she said briskly, gently detangling herself from his hold. Strange. She had come to terms that the man, Cheshire, had been nothing but a fevered figment of her imagination, an illusion brought on by loneliness and perhaps hunger. After all, he had gone as soon as…the other two had appeared. But that the image would return a second time was mildly surprising. Perhaps she had gone mad.

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

He chuckled a bit, amused by the fight in this one. He turned her head with his hand on her chin slowly, to get a better look at his prey. 

Then their eyes met, and he froze. Standing motionless, his eyes darted all over her, confused. Had the madness already returned to such an extent that he would see things now? He was lost, and for a brief spot of time, angry. Angry that this curse could be so evil and manipulative that it would make him see her.

But then he felt nothing but sadness and grief. He let go of her neck and chin, dropping down to his knees with his arms wrapping around her waist. He yelled into the night, the anger and confusion strong in his voice.

"If this be the madness taking over, or if this be a dream, tell me not! For I am paralyzed with feeling. Let this moment last, let me have peace, do not vanish before my eyes. But if you do, please, let me have this moment!"

His eyes closed tight, as he waited for the axe to fall, for this illusion to disappear, and his fears of returning to madness be true. 

Talking to themselves. That was amusing. How many times had he heard that sort of conversation before they completely gave up, and just ended it all. 

However, when he thought for a moment on the voice, it sounded all to familiar. It was her voice.

No, it was his mind, playing tricks on him again. The madness was returning, and now it was forcing him to relive his choices. 

Fine. If he was to return to his perpetual state of madness, then he was going to have fun while he did it.

His hands appeared behind her, swiftly wrapping around her, one hand on her neck, the other gripping her chin. He stood ready, ready to turn her head, perhaps even snap it off at a moments notice. However, he didn’t have plans to do that just yet, no, he was going to have fun with this before he did.

“Did you know, a dog growls when it’s mad, but me, well, I growl when I’m pleased~” He whispered into her ear, in a low, husky voice.

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

Talking to themselves. That was amusing. How many times had he heard that sort of conversation before they completely gave up, and just ended it all. 

However, when he thought for a moment on the voice, it sounded all to familiar. It was her voice.

No, it was his mind, playing tricks on him again. The madness was returning, and now it was forcing him to relive his choices. 

Fine. If he was to return to his perpetual state of madness, then he was going to have fun while he did it.

His hands appeared behind her, swiftly wrapping around her, one hand on her neck, the other gripping her chin. He stood ready, ready to turn her head, perhaps even snap it off at a moments notice. However, he didn't have plans to do that just yet, no, he was going to have fun with this before he did.

"Did you know, a dog growls when it's mad, but me, well, I growl when I'm pleased~" He whispered into her ear, in a low, husky voice.

When her cigarette had burned to her lips, Blithe let it fall. Still, she did not move from where she stood. She wondered dimly if perhaps she might cry, but the tears did not come. They would wait until later, when she could no longer refuse sleep and eventually awoke from a dream screaming and sobbing. For now, her cheeks remained dry.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the corpses, gleaming over the blood and fluids. Still, she made no effort to move. Maybe she would simply stand here, until the world crumbled around her.

“…shelter,” she ordered herself.

“…why…” came her own response.

“Don’t be an idiot. You’ll die of exposure and won’t do anyone a lick of good.”

“So.”

A howl cut through the streets, from somewhere in the far distance, and Blithe couldn’t help but wonder if it was Macbeth. Her heart panged, and she shuddered, breathing until she squashed down whatever emotion had threatened to emerge.

“Fine. Shelter,” she consented, moving toward one of the empty buildings with jerky motions, as though she had forgotten how to work her limbs.

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

A long drawn out breath came from Chesh's lips, an almost exhausted sigh. He looked down at the earth below his feet, the ground littered with parts of beings that were once human. A few feet away from him was an undead, lurching toward him. Chesh barely gave it a glance before he jabbed his hand forward to it's neck.

His claws grew and sunk into the rotted flesh till the protruded onto the other side of the creatures neck. In one swift motion, he ripped off the creatures head, throwing it over his shoulder. He shook the blood off his hand, then trudged on through the desolate city.

Off in the distance, there were noises of the undead, and rarely anything else. By this point, there were no people left alive, and if there were, they were long gone. Like those of the camp off in the valley. Chesh once visited the camp, unbeknownst to the inhabitants of the camp. However he found no solace in the people there, and in all actuality, felt it would be better if he just stayed away. 

So here he was, in the wasteland, trudging through his life as he always had. Through countless wars, and battles, he would walk through the land, watching as people died. But there was no battle, there was no war, there was only silence.

A noise caught his ears, off in the distance he could faintly make it out as someone singing. Long had he given up believing that someone was still alive, and those he would find alive, were half mad. All he would ever do, was watch people fall into their descent of perpetual insanity, rarely every making contact. Only some, would he ever approach.

Though frequently, that ended up with them dead, and another soul on Chesh's back that he would carry all his life.

Assuming that the person singing was half way to their death, Chesh vaporized to the source of the noise. When he reappeared, he was nothing but teeth and yellow eyes, standing behind the one singing.

For now, he would just watch, and see what they were going to do.

“Imagine me…and you…I do…”

A trickle of blood seeped between cracked pavement, leeching into filthy soil in which a stubborn weed barely peeked through. It was odd, that the beings still bled, though no heart beat. It was not clean however, that much was apparent. Yellow pus, thick and putrid, mottled the scarlet, having burst from boils that the infected carried as badges of their condition.

Body lay over body. The arm of a woman was flung over the legs of a man. Their heads were split open, just like the ones of nearly two dozen others. Another handful, closer to the epicenter of the felled hoard, sported neat bullet wounds instead. In the center of carnage, a bloodstained women smoked a cigarette, hands still clenched around the handle of her spade.

“Me and you…and you…and me…no matter how they toss the dice…it has to be…”

She sang softly, her words laced with disgust. She had lived. Despite her best efforts, she had survived her attempt to draw enough worms to overwhelm her. Pity. She knew that she could never directly take her own life. It would be a waste, when she could die fighting instead.

That had, however, proved harder then anticipated.

“The only one for me is you…and you for me…”

Still she hoped perhaps one would come. Perhaps she had missed one. Perhaps it would slip up behind her, drawn to her singing, and wrap its slippery fingers around her neck. She would struggle, as animals were like to do when caught by a predator, but she would know it was hopeless.

Perhaps.

“…so happy, together.”

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

Chesh looked around the city, his feet dangling over the edge of a building, which he had perched himself on top of.

How long had it been since he saw anyone? Well, anyone living. He could faintly remember the others, the man and his sister. But still a vivid image in his mind was her.

Was she still alive? Would she even remember him? What if she was in trouble? All of these thoughts coursed through his head. However, they hit a brick wall every time.

You left her, you have no right to worry.

Left then to his own devices, he sat watching the moving corpses on the ground off in the distance. Silently cursing himself in the deep reaches of the night.

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

The black cat sat there in the middle of the city, thinking to himself for a moment.

Hm, I was asleep far too long. I wonder where Blithe, her Cowboy, and the other one have gone off to.

With that last thought, the cat stood up and started trotting down the road, hoping to find all of them, especially Blithe soon, in this baron wasteland.

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

blithebereavement replied to your post: Hm

-smushes his cheeks- Awww baby don’t poooout

I'm not pouting.

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

I'm sure you do. heh

cheshlersgrin replied to your post: hrghhh i wish strange or griff or cowboy was on im…

well

Awww bby you know I love you ;A;

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

Hm

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

Oh sweetheart, I didn't think you were so kinky~

ma renarde

jadednguyen replied to your post: NO REALLY. what happened to the cowboy

ah get it with them other gents then biltHe!

omg libby

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

Aw, mon ange~

Don't be so shy, as adorable as it is, you're much more attractive when you're all....defiant.

jadednguyen replied to your post: NO REALLY. what happened to the cowboy

ah get it with them other gents then biltHe!

omg libby

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

#WHY DO ATTRACTIVE PEOPLE WANT TO TALK TO ME I DONT UNDERSTAND

Have you seen you, mon ange~?

jadednguyen replied to your post: NO REALLY. what happened to the cowboy

ah get it with them other gents then biltHe!

omg libby

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

Chesh nuzzled back to Blithe for a moment, a low rumble of a purr in his chest. Glancing over at the other girl, he still had not caught her name. However when Chesh looked down at Machbeth he almost couldn't help but laugh. The dog clearly knew it was him, and wasn't fooled for a second. Thinking on it, Chesh hadn't spoken with any animals in a long while, and speaking with Machbeth could be quite useful in this situation.

He wiggled out from Blithes arms, padding over to Machbeth, setting himself down in front of the dog, looking up to now larger creature.

Good day Machbeth! Leave it to a dog and his nose to unravel any sort of illusion. Are you fairing well good sir? Is everyone alright?

Also, what is the other females name? Is the male in the other room alright? I trust you've been taking care of Blithe, though I imagine it might have been a bit embarrassing to have to be carried up the ladder this time around.

A lone cat.

Chesh crawled off her lap and went to the bowl of milk. He really didn’t have to drink it, but he figured he should indulge her, considering she probably didn’t know who he was. Lapping at the milk slowly, his purring continued, the taste of it almost unfamiliar with how long it’s been since he last consumed anything.

He licked his mouth and turned back to her, rubbing his face against her thigh. Any other person in his situation (though how many would ever be in this sort of situation?), would have taken advantage of it and cuddled up all against her. Chesh was from a different time though, and that was an ungentleman like thing to do. So he simply stayed by her side, curling up into a ball and just looking on at Machbeth playing with the other female. He would have to listen for her name sometime.

Blithe smiled at Cassandra, a little sheepishly, as she ran her hand down the back of the creature, scratching her fingers down its spine.

“Mm, kinda! It was sitting on the window sill in the other room,” she explained, picking the cat up and cuddling it to her chest, rubbing her cheek on its head. Macbeth was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t exactly fond of cuddling, and Blithe was longing for a little simple love.

The dog himself seemed to have taken quite nicely to the animal. He blinked at the cat, of course not in the least fooled by Chesh’s illusion, merely curious as to why the male two-leg wished to maintain a feline form, especially when the canine one was so much better.

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

Chesh crawled off her lap and went to the bowl of milk. He really didn't have to drink it, but he figured he should indulge her, considering she probably didn't know who he was. Lapping at the milk slowly, his purring continued, the taste of it almost unfamiliar with how long it's been since he last consumed anything.

He licked his mouth and turned back to her, rubbing his face against her thigh. Any other person in his situation (though how many would ever be in this sort of situation?), would have taken advantage of it and cuddled up all against her. Chesh was from a different time though, and that was an ungentleman like thing to do. So he simply stayed by her side, curling up into a ball and just looking on at Machbeth playing with the other female. He would have to listen for her name sometime.

A lone cat.

Blithe’s gaze softened as the cat came to her, mewing and purring at it rubbed against her leg. She dropped to her knees, running a hand over its back before scratching at its ears.

“Poor baby,” she said softly, “I bet you’re all kinds of confused about what’s going on…then again, that other cat seemed to have a pretty good idea. You hungry, sweety? I think we’ve got some powdered milk…” She cautiously scooped the cat into her arms, ready to release it if it showed any discomfort with being held, then cradled it to her chest. She stood, running her fingers over its scruff while she ran her cheek against its soft fur - Macbeth was a sweetheart, but Blithe had always had a soft spot for cats.

In the other room, Blithe mixed a little bowl of milk, sitting and placing it by her hip so she could continue to pet the creature.

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

Chesh looked up at Blithe, tilting his head to the side. He was happy for her to call for him, even it was while he was in his cat form. On the other hand though he was lecturing her in his head.You can't take every stray in and feed them, you'll run out of supplies. He thought to himself. He padded over her, sitting himself down in front of her feet, looking up at her.

He thought of changing back to his human form, but thought better of it. That would only cause problems for her at this point, and it be easier for him to keep an eye on all of her group in this form. Besides, he could even sleep on top of Machbeth, who he was sure was much more comfortable than just sleeping outside or on the floor.

He gave a soft meow, walking up and rubbing himself against her leg, purring softly as well.

A lone cat.

Blithe cracked her neck as she stepped into the hall from the door that had led to the bathroom, having just finished a nice shower. The water was less then hot, but it was running at least, and that was already a great improvement on most places. She wrung out her hair before pulling it into a pony, making her way toward the bedroom, intending to wake Cowboy up, when a soft noise caught her attention.

Immediately all her senses went on high alert, her shoulders stiffening and her hand going to her hip - where, of course, her gun was not. Damn. She was getting lazy.

After a brief moment of panic, however, logic won out - there was no way for a walker to get up here, and even if there were, Macbeth would have gone absolutely nuts, and he was still blissfully playing with Cassandra.

She edged her way to the room the noise had come from, leaning around the door frame and peeking in. A…cat. Not a looter. She gave a relieved laugh, stepping fully into the doorway.

“Hi sweety,” she cooed, stepping in slowly so as not to startle it, “Aw, I bet you’re hungry, huh…here, sweety…”

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

A lone cat.

A black cat, as dark as night that the sheen of his fur shone purple in the moonlight, padded along the road. It dodged between the undead's feet, weaving and jumping, moving with a bit of haste in it's step. The cat wandered through the streets, the zombie hordes thinning out till there were none.

It walked the empty street till it came upon a fire escape ladder, it's tail swaying as it balanced itself. The cat jumped onto the ladder, dangling from it, then quickly jumping up and climbing the rest of the fire escape. Its ears twitched, in the distance, the cat could hear voices. The cat quickened it's pace, climbing and climbing till it reached the top of the fire escape, looking into the apartment it ended at. The cat was prepared for anything, ready to pounce and attack, teeth and claws at the ready. However it stopped right at the window, frozen just outside the windowsill, staring wide eyed into the room.

There she was, Blithe was there, safe and sound...in a mans arms. Though the cat knew just from the look of them together, this wasn't just some man. That man was hers, the one she loved, who loved her in return. The cat moved away from the window, heading towards the other one where the other girl was sitting, looking in to see how things were. Everything appeared fine, so he took post at the top of the fire escape, looking down at the ground to keep an eye on any sort of movement or danger.

A very uncharacteristic sigh, especially from a cat, escaped it's mouth. The sigh solemn and a bit sad, the cats eyes half open as it was lost in thought.

The cat looked up to the sky for a moment, its yellow eyes staring off at the stars.

Oh stars, you make it seem so easy to stay bright at times like this. I envy you. Maybe someday, I'll join you, once I've done my job, and have taken care of those here.

Someday...

A small, whimpering meow came from the cat, a small tear filling the corner of it's eye. No matter how much it hurt though, he would keep his promise, and keep her and her happiness safe.

Chesh had been through worse in his lifetime.

At least that's what Chesh kept telling himself, but the pain in his chest said otherwise.

[cheshlersgrin-blog]

Something about her voice, the way it perked up when she talked about Cowboy, told Chesh everything.

He smiled, finding her adorable in the way she seemed to dot on, and think the world of this man. A man who would make her happy, and does.

"They all sound like a spirited bunch. I'm sure they'll be fine. Especially Cowboy. He seems like a man who can take care of himself and those he loves."

Chesh walked behind Blithe and Macbeth, keeping pace with them. He looked down to the ground, a crooked smile showing up on his face.

"Seems like you got yourself a good one."

Chesh looked around, surveying the area around them with both his eyes an ears. When he felt that the area was clear, he turned back to Blithe.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t use weapons.” And it was true, Chesh never found a use for weapons, he would always use his teleporting and floating to take down anything that came after him. Though before, he would use it as ways to get away from threats.

“What do you friends look like?” It would be good to know, so that way he could keep an eye out for them. The faster they found Blithes friends, the faster they could go back to safety.