fernsbys

[fernsbys]

who: @interstellarsx where: common house

After doing her rounds through the house, her house, she'd made it back upstairs to her room. Things had returned back to 'normal' - whatever that meant. But Emery's mind couldn't go quiet after everything that happened lately. Even though she'd learned to take it day by day in the military, she couldn't help but worry over what would be next. If this town was so desperate to have them all killed - why didn't it just get it over with? Because this kind of evil liked to play. It liked to pull back and forth, give them back the little bit of hope that had been taken and then take it back just as fast.

She couldn't be alone. Not tonight. Not right now.

''Stells? You awake?'' Her announcement was gentle, after a knock on the door. She'd seen the light coming from underneath her door when she made her way up earlier, she knew her sister had trouble sleeping, too. With her pillow pressed between her arm and stomach, she waited for her eyes to meet her sister's. ''Can I sleep here tonight?'' A different way of saying I really cannot be alone tonight.

[fernsbys]

ANNA TORV as Emily Lawson ↳ TERRITORY ✦ 1.03

[fernsbys]

It was going to be a long night if the power refused to get back on, making people more on edge if the only resource they had were candles to see in the dark. Made it harder to see if anyone was up to something, endangering them all for the outside creatures if not worse. Especially with alcohol in the mix and whatever else that the settlement provided, Emery was definitely experiencing discomfort in the position she was in. ''Weird is an understatement,'' she kept her voice low, only for those to hear that weren't a part of this place. ''It's best not to wander, don't want to bump into someone with bad intentions. Especially not with the light out,'' she advised, if anyone decided to act otherwise - it would be on them, not on her. She'd taught herself that a long time ago. To try and cling onto the sanity she still had left.

Nodding to Tessa's words, she faintly remembered when she was still fairly new to the place. Wondering if it'd been a coma induced nightmare she'd been stuck in, but then time went on. And on. And months turned into a year. And another. And another. Now it'd been seven years of torture. And so much goddamn loss. A very real loss of people she'd cared for, some more than others. But instead of laying her awful truth upon the girl, she kept her reply light. ''Have you tried pinching yourself? I've heard that works wonders in nightmares,'' a piece of advice that never worked for her, though.

''Shit,'' her reply was loaded with dread. However usually one would be happy and feel a sense of relief to have found a missing relative or dear one, in this place it felt like the complete opposite. She wouldn't want to wish anyone's family to end up in this place. And yet it had happened to her as well. Her own half sister, as if the universe punished her for not having had met her face to face after all the letters they'd written to one another. ''It sucks to have been dragged into this nightmare together....'' her pause long before she met Tessa's eyes, ''....but at least you have each other and that's something to cling onto. Trust and rely on each other.''

"Staying put," Tessa repeats, as if tasting the words would make them easier to digest. It doesn't, which is clear in the sigh that she releases a moment later, fingers brushing through her hair. She wondered what that meant, though - the woman clearly had concerns about the people who called the Settlement their home but was also suggesting they stay sitting here, waiting for...whatever would come next. "These people are kinda...weird," Tessa agrees after a pause, looking around at the place that had been transformed for a celebration but instead shut down into a shadowy, nervous hall of survivors. But the Settlement people seemed totally fine with the whole ordeal, which felt...unnerving.

"Yeah," she agrees when Emery inquires for confirmation of her name, "Tessa - Tess. Whatever." At the title she has apparently earned herself, Tessa snorts a laugh. New kid. Fitting, she supposed. "I don't think you really have anything to apologize for...This place just has...well, a bit of a learning curve. That or I'm still waiting to wake up from this nightmare. So uh...yeah. It's been...something."

Tessa looks back over at Emery when she raises another question. A humorless laugh escapes her. "Actually. Funny story. Turns out she was here all along. Suppose that clears up a few questions."

[fernsbys]

''A special occasion, or a death sentence. Depends on who you ask, really.'' A pause, a moment to glance over the crowd to see others being just as careless about where the party was being held, ''your body, your choice. I don't judge,'' not out loud at least. It didn't matter, anyways. Death was inevitable in this place, even to those who tried to keep their head straight, like her. After seven years of entrapment she was almost sure she'd die here, the chance of ever getting out of here seemed to get less and less with each and every passing day. ''What about you? Got your eye on anyone? At least this place doesn't hold people back as much from their wants and needs, since every day can be anyone's last and all.'' Such optimistic words coming from a pessimist like her, though the positivity lacked severely in her tone of voice. Being apart from her wife for so long had done that to her. ''Just water, kid. Tap water from the common house, nothing anyone could've messed with.''

Thinking of her words for a moment, Joel glanced at his drink and brought it up to his face - sniffing its contents. He didn’t smell anything beyond the wretched fermentation, though his experience with anything apart from regular liquor was slim. Giving into a shrug, he tipped the cup back for another sip, “  It’s a special occasion or whatever, no?  ” Besides, it was a little too late for him to worry about his intake. So far, he didn’t notice a change in his composure and certainly Dayn would have said something to him by now. Eyes turning to the person hanging out the drinks, Joel switched his empty cup for a new one. “  To think I had to go pour my own in the kitchen.  ” he joked as the stranger walked off before turning to her. “  Yeah, he’s ‘round here somewhere. Off to the bathroom or got caught locking lips with someone new. Who knows. ” Joel glanced down to her canteen, “  What you got in there? Anything exciting?  ”

[fernsbys]

''I'd suggest staying put, wandering around here will have terrible consequences,'' she knew Nika and her settlement people had a loose screw or two and would have anything sinister up their sleeve. ''Who knows what they've got going on in this place, I don't and I'd rather not find out.'' Most people she'd talked to or caught eyes with tonight had been letting their guard down enough, had consumed whatever liquid was served or decided to let go of their morals after all the horrors they'd been through the past few weeks. Not even weeks, there'd always been something going on, it was just an endless torture of awaiting what'd come next.

''Tess was it? Tessa?'' Her eyebrows scrunched together, lately newcomers into town had become less of a priority to the common house leader. Her sleepless nights had taken a toll on her, flashes of the past haunting her - triggered by the pastor of town of all people, a man she ought to get her hands on. He was lucky she hadn't caught wind of him tonight. ''You're the new kid. I apologize for the other day,'' when she was supposed to guide her through the whole shitshow of her new hometown, ''has Ryan been good to you? He can be quite the joker, a defense mechanism perhaps, sometimes I wonder if he takes this place serious at all.'' Exhaling a deep sigh when she stared at nothing in particular, she then remembered to ask, ''did you find your sister after all?''

Closed for @fernsbys | Tessa and Emery @ the Settlement shortly after lights out

It wasn't the power outage that had Tessa on edge. At least, not just that. She didn't mind the darkness, so much - not before coming to Arcadia, anyway. Perhaps now that monsters that went bump in the night were real, it was a little bit more justified to fear what was lurking in the shadows. With the lights burnt out and enveloping them all in darkness, there wasn't much else to do but wait...

Tessa wasn't good at sitting around and waiting, aimlessly. There was a clear tension in her body, manifesting in the tip-tapping of her boot heel against the floor, bitten fingernails between her teeth. It had been a bad idea to leave the cinema tonight - but then again, perhaps everything was a bad idea in this hellish town black hole.

"Is there anything to like...do, around here?" She asks the nearest person, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "I mean - apparently the party is a bust, and going outside seems like a shit choice. So...what now?"

[fernsbys]

There was so much she recognized of herself in Reyna, or vice versa, be it the eyes that she locked with that told her so much and yet so little. There were so much life experiences hidden behind those eyes that were kept inside her head for a reason. Never spoken aloud, never written down for anybody to hear or read about because it was nobody's business what went on inside her mind. The lips that were tight shut when it came to the life before, because over here it simply didn't matter. Because it could be used as a weapon by anyone sooner or later. The isolation told Emery everything she needed to know. She knew Reyna couldn't bear putting her own shit onto anybody else's shoulders, and people were curious by nature, they could pry and pry and pry until one would crack. So Emery had understood Reyna's decision to leave the common house like no other. Emery would too, had she not cared as much as she did about her people, had she not needed the distraction of others as she did, had she not ached for constant activity and noise and liveliness around her as she did.

It hurt. Somewhere deep inside her it fucking hurt to hear the words she'd heard before. Back at the base, back with her own team when they had too much time to kill and deep conversations kept them occupied. It wasn't the first time she'd been asked to take care of something that should go against her nature, against human nature, that she'd promised to take care of if needed. When absolutely necessary. And so it didn't scare Emery, there was no flinching from her side or any sign of discomfort when the answer fell from her lips. ''I would.'' An ice cold conversation she was glad they held in private. ''That's a promise.'' Emery confirmed with a nod, because this town could screw with anyone overnight. Even her.

''Here's to making it another day,'' she tapped the back of her fingers against the bottle Reyna held, to nudge her into taking another sip as a deep breath left her lungs. ''Here's to someday drinking an ice cold beer at some shitty local bar on your actual birthday when we make it out of here. I'd like that.''

the end.

reyna's eyes were fixated on the duty removed from emery's head to rest upon the blanket. a curtain closed that allowed a deeper layer of the other woman to be exposed. even if reyna didn't quite know how to vocally articulate the emotions — she liked providing the safe space for emery to ease herself. somewhere along the curve of the hat, reyna was pulled away from her dipped mind. emery pulled her so far to the presence that reyna's chin turned. there was a need for her eyes to take in the sight of the other woman's face. to see if there was some underlying reason for the shift of conversation. the worry. the concern.

it was fair to speak upon. there hadn't been a high number of people who aged out in this place. numbers didn't dwindle on population because of natural causes. most deaths were by the curse of the town. them. the whispers in the trees. reyna knew this. four years had been a good amount of survival age, but there had been plenty who slipped soon after. "i'd tell you." eyes steadied themselves even at the notice of emery's gaze slipping to her hand. the thickened pink knuckles were telling when her mouth wasn't.

reyna wasn't certain how much those three words held true. she trusted herself enough to know that if there had been anyone she trusted her life with in this town — it'd always been the woman seated beside her. her tongue thirsted for a drink, but she sat still for a moment longer. "—and you'd take care of the situation if it needed to be done. right ?" the situation, her. she meant. if her mind slipped to insanity. if hurt was caused. reyna hoped there wouldn't be an abundance of grace because of the unspoken tenderness they shared. if that's what emery meant by being there for her, that's all reyna could hope for. to continue to keep everyone safe. even if she was the toxin.

[fernsbys]

Truth be told, Emery had kept her half sister at a distance from the moment she invaded her life. From the moment their biological shitface of a father threw a truth bomb her way and called it a day. An explosion of emotions, a whole new world, a long lasting anxiety attack that had Emery wanting to keep that shit shoved away for as long as possible. But then the letters came and there was no way of denying the fact she did have a half sister out there, somewhere. What had seemed like a load of shit at first, changed into a whole new reality when the photos came and there was no denying how much resembled one another. Her team had told her so, even her wife had rubbed it in her face. Still, deep down Emery had been too afraid to really face her all those years. To see her face to face. And then karma had come back around when Stella set foot into this damned place.

Now there was no way for her to part ways, even if she could, she didn't want to. All she wanted was to keep her sister safe, be it this place or the shit life threw at people on their day to day life - if there was still an actual world out there. Her hand came to rest on Stella's shoulder instead of her upper arm, gave her a reassuring squeeze. ''Forget what I said, I didn't mean to worry you.'' But sometimes Emery couldn't help voice her worries out loud to one of the few people she trusted most in this town, it kept her from imploding, from doing something she might regret later. ''Let's just stick to water, yeah? Directly from the drain, none of that shit those people serve, I don't even wanna know what they've put in there.'' Emery murmured the latter, knowing very much how she wasn't one to let loose. Not often. ''We can wait, you're right,'' she reassured her with a nod, her brows furrowed but her tone kind to the blonde.

''We can find a place to sleep.'' An idea offered, in case Stella needed to lay down, she shot her sister a glance to nonverbally ask her how she was doing. ''I'll stay awake, keep you safe.'' Nothing she wasn't used to doing already. Breathing out, breathing back in, she shortly caressed Stella's shoulder with her thumb, sharing a moment of fragility with her sister, ''you're my people.'' And she'd do anything for her people.

poison. stella knew the ways it seeped into her blood cells. sickened her. tainted her childhood. bled into her father's addiction, her own. poison had been a main character in stella's story. she knew well of it, and had always tried to ward it off. unwanted. uninvited — still it came. slowly wilting away whatever vibrant growth had been made. "doesn't the tree provide ?" whatever the hell all of that gibberish always was. stella thought she'd heard the phrase a billion times tonight. started taking a sip of alcohol every time it was said. even recruited a younger red head into the game. a flowery smell, not floral. her name had been c-...carrot ? something that began with a 'c' of a plant or vegetable...cauliflower? ... stella tried to think of the others name. it fled from her mind only leaving the fact of the younger woman speaking in slang terms then nearly crying. "why'd we come if it's poison ?" obligation, peace ? something along those lines. "should have just said our 'hello's' and left. bed seems nice right now." maybe she'd saunter off to a couch and slip into a slumber. wake with the rise of the sun. put an end to this darkening night.

sis. sobriety, and slippery drunk stella warmed to the name. family with emery felt solid in simplicity. accepted and unabandoned. even in such a hellish place. "i don't mind being a sheep sometimes, ems." slow blinking over the toxins, stella looped an arm through emery's. an attempt to release the stiffness her sister provided. "i know it works for you, and you keep people safe...but don't you think letting go of control for a little bit keeps them safer ? i don't know, sounds like better advice given to a different situation. ...this place is... not the typical situation i guess." stella's body swayed a bit before she found her balance holding her arm through emery's. "don't throw me anywhere." firmly spoken but unserious to the tone that the role of younger sister provided. "should we even be leaving when the sun is away ? " down. "it'll come back. it always does. we can wait." the woman needed a sober state of mind.

[fernsbys]

Out of the two of them, she could tell Stella had been granted the jokester genes from their biological father. If he had any. She could perhaps count the times she'd been happy as a kid on one hand, and even those memories had been forgotten, shoved away by life. Deadpanning her sister, deep down she envied the lightness she so easily carried around. ''I'm sure the plants here gained nothing new, this place is not anything like town, it's poison, sis.'' Words she very much liked to repeat from time to time, especially to those she cared for. Whatever to those who chose to move residencies in the end, but she'd be damned if she let this place persuade her sister into leaving town. Into leaving her. No one could sweet talk her sister into staying at the settlement, not for medicinal purposes, not for the nights they deemed as 'fun', not for the devious events they had going on and she for sure hated the idea of staying the night at the main hall tonight.

Times like these made her curse her role as a 'leader'. Having to attend these things, when really she preferred to stay at the house she claimed as her own territory roughly seven years ago. She was on edge and it was noticeable in her body language. ''Jesus, whatever they're doing - doesn't mean you gotta follow, there's wolves here preying on those sheep,'' even if her own people were to be found in the crowd acting on a good time, Emery felt in her gut something was up. ''I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you home if I goddamn need to.'' Partially a threat, but Emery meant well. All she wanted was to keep her sister safe from harm. And if it meant sacrificing herself in the process, well -

Call it fate, out of all the people she had ever tried to save and failed, perhaps it was meant to be for her to go and pass the legacy onto her sister now they've finally met face to face.

her ass is wound up in caution. an observance from stella about her sisters stance. watchful. smart. god i wish i had a mind screwed tight like that. stella's lungs forgave the taken drink with a long sigh. "so you get plants drunk instead ?" it was for the best, afterall. the amount of relapse the blonde had folded into had been nothing but a constant circle drawn. all the parties had the best booze. something you drank to get drunk, not to enjoy. that's all arcadia was — something you drank your survival through just to deal day to day. "yes, ma'am." a cheeky salute was given.

stella had taken advantage of the soiree. there was a knowledge that her sister wasn't going to ease up. too protective. too militant. she needs to get laid. if she is, not all the kinks have been worked out. look at her stance. tense. "i think everyone has already dipped a little too much in that pond. look around, ems, even in the candle light you can tell." people swayed and not because the music was good. unbothered by the frantic buzz around them, stella relaxed more into her seat. if this was some set up for sacrifice, she knew a few already she'd volunteer to get tossed. reality started to creep up her spine with emery's hand around her arm. she's serious. of course. she's always serious. "ugh, i don't know. you know, this place was not really something i could put my finger on...but i think like a magic eight ball would say....outlook not so good." can't really go outside...right ? i don't know, find a room to crawl in and repeat prayers i don't believe in...is she about to ragdoll me out of here ?

[fernsbys]

No matter how coldblooded Emery could be, she was clearly not unaffected by her own actions. Her mind was getting occupied by everything that was Cara now, like roots spreading throughout her brain. There was a heat flowing to her cheeks, her breathing changed, even just a little. Her worries about the Common House turned more of a background noise now, as her gaze flicked over Cara's body. ''There's a lot you don't know about me,'' her voice was deep - dangerous almost. Dangerous waters to tread, to explore. Arcadia had brought her younger self back, to a temptation she'd long forgotten, pushed away because her needs were satisfied. Now, with the constant doubt of her wife still being alive or not, that urge came to claw at her insides, like a spark aching to be ignited.

Her fingers ached to take a hold of the woman's hips, work up her shirt and feel her bare skin warm against her hands. To wrap her fingers around those soft looking strands of strawberry blonde hair and pull her head back so she could nuzzle her nose against her jawline and lose herself in the scent of her skin. To peel her clothes off layer by layer until she was bare enough for Emery to claim her skin between her lips and teeth, to leave marks on her pale skin as a reminder for later. For when Cara found herself alone in the shower, alone looking in the mirror, alone in her room whenever she changed in to or out of clothing.

''A sergeant doesn't take orders.'' There was a rasp present in her voice as her eyes darkened, still lingering shamelessly on the redhead's body. Her tongue ran across her lips, covering them with a light layer of saliva. She sucked in a breath before parting her lips, ''but I can make exceptions for a pretty and intelligent woman who knows what she wants...'' She drew out, not exactly done with her sentence yet. Emery closed the small distance between the wall and the bed, sitting down at the edge with her legs spread and her arms resting on top, ''...if this is what you want, Cara, I'd suggest coming over here.'' The sergeant leaned back, letting Cara decide on her own to climb on her lap and take the leap. She wasn't going to force anyone who wasn't entirely sure, but Cara had come here into her bedroom of all places, where they'd be alone.

''Let me give you what you want, by giving me what I want...'' she took her sweet time, in a place like this it was everything they had after all, ''...a night you won't forget, if you do choose to let me have a taste.''

miss turner. so formal. uncracked by all of the shameless flirtation cara had smothered emery in. prowling. rubbing against the other woman more, and more. just to see how far she could push emery. how far she could wrap herself around the woman of such high position. ranked to be such a statuesque beacon for the town that drowned everyone in endless concern. intimacy was primal. for cara she preferred to discard emotional attachment. there was less fun involved when play things came back broken from lust. devoured by sensitive feelings. wanting more where cara wanted to give less. cara wasn't willing to give herself away in such a manner — not that she could. with emery there was something so melting in the way she ran such authority. a fiery lust could be cracked down to all of the parental issues the red head had in her adolescence, but cara wasn't fond of cracking her code. her way of life was fine —she coped. got by where others drowned. too fixated on what they weren't, what they didn't have. all of that unnecessary bullshit. eyebrows lifted—satisfied to whatever urge erupted the other woman from the bed. to invade her own space. cara didn't try hiding the pleased grin. it stretched exposing her likeness to what sounded like a small scolding. this is what cara came for. it's what she always came for — smudging those lines of boundaries that emery created.

it was only a small gasp that escaped. cara tried not to reveal anything further. allow the other woman room for reaction. cara needed to see all that she could spill from the tight seams the other had stitched. let. loose. god. please. —and fucking hell did she. "mmm—yeah." cheeky. subtle but boldly teetering to toy with emery. push her further. the former journalist had been thankful for the wall pressed cooly against the fabric of her blouse. the silk against her porcelain skin, emery in front of her with a contrast of warm breath. cara could lean in, kiss her —but that would collapse the tension she was enjoying all too much.

"—fuck." okay. cara's brain scrambled. composure sinking to depths she couldn't recover while her own fingers sunk behind emery's warm, wet mouth. jesus. fucking. christ. —the only thought that filled her. had she said it out loud ? it had been difficult to notice. difficult to make sure her knees hadn't turned to jelly before she liquified to the floor beneath them. the cool air met with damp exposed fingers wasn't enough for the red head to snap back into her witty, sarcastic self that was present just moments before. the bowl in her other hand....god she could drop it. ignore it's shattered pieces and indulge the way she wanted to.

instead — cara flexed her jaw. too afraid that anything that would slip out of her mouth would make her sound utterly weak. "goddamn, fersby." a beat. fingers wouldn't be wiped. cara enjoyed the other woman's spit coating them. think about the feeling. slick. heated. —for far too long. "didn't know you had it in you." she breathed out. feet stepped forward where emery stepped back. her other hand still clutching the bowl of berries. wondering if emery would think of her now each time eyes caught sight of a bowl. if the thought would ever make her squirm. "you should sit back down." cheeks were flushed from the rush. "there is more to taste." tongue clicked before swiping her bottom lip. the feeling of emery's mouth on her fingers ghosted a phantom feeling. a need for more. cara couldn't silently whimper without emery completely devouring her. it was now a need.

[fernsbys]

''I ran into some trouble,'' brushing it off, always making it sound less worse than it was, because the last thing she needed was fucking sympathy. Emery didn't need people to worry over her, hell she hated asking for help when she wasn't able to tend to her own wounds, she hated making anything about herself. Even though, without realizing, she kind of did ask for attention with her current behavior. Neglecting her duties, turning a blind eye to the decay of the house, to the commotion that stirred on the ground floor. With a grunt coated by a harsh exhale, frustration troubled her mind; she couldn't find the things she was looking for; darkness was setting in; Nick bothered her with no intention of leaving. A buildup of emotion that made it hard for Emery to converse.

''I don't need anyone to fucking look at it, what I need -'' the light flickered, as if it could sense the tension in the air as she grabbed a handful of clothes and threw it on the floor. A pile of clothes, usually treated like treasure in this house now treated as a pile of rubbish. The doors of her wardrobe slammed open without giving a shit about the noise, she rummaged through more useless shit in there. ''What I need is my fucking rifle,'' Emery slammed the door shut even louder when she couldn't find it, taking place on the edge of the bed as she faced the mess she made on the floor. Defeated by everything that's happened today, she grunted and took a hold of her head in her hands, feeling the urge to rip her skin off right then and there. ''Fuck this fucking fucking shit of a shit ass town!'' If it weren't for the fiery pit of rage swirling inside her chest, if she'd been some sort of normal fucking human being instead of a trained killing machine, she'd cry right now. Curl up and bawl like the world had come to an end. If only.

You glisten at the fire-shore,   cat-eyed overlook,   though you stand at their height.     These people scatter the common hall,   grabbing at each other weakly like frayed twigs on woodland soil.     One wrong wind and,   in a clicked finger,   gone.     Aflame.     Kindling at the pit-edge where you,   dried and carved,   withstand the melt and ensuing calcification of burnt offerings.     Frail in their fray.     They don’t notice you,   wrist-locked,   in their cotton-tongue heat.     Nor do they see her return.     The trek from outside to inside.     Singular to many.     An ascension of something human to something less than.     To something more than.     In the blue that separates sea from fallen sky.     Or the moment between the bullet resound and its following hot hit.     You’ve forgotten how to distinguish more from less.     Acclivity   /   Prowl.     The broken space between one person and the next.     The slip of a man   —   trick of the shadow   —   who sees the slip of a woman.

A traced pursuit.     You need order.

Much to her chagrin,   it seems.     His approach is cautious.     Right up to the two paces that part his space from hers.     Like a crust sidling to blood.     Balm over wound.     HEAD OVER HAND.     She hollows this with a quick snap.     And there it is:   the bruise made physical.     What constitutes her   —   the serrated rim bridging bruise to pale skin   —   made manifest.     Her name catches on his lips.     It melts with his brow,   into a furrow,   when he sees that black eye.     He blinks.     ‘   What happened?     Did someone give that to you?   ’     His gaze edges closer,   by a hair’s breadth,   but he keeps the distance.     A lower tone,   mirroring hers,   as he examines despite crescendoing strife.     You would settle for an unwanted edict.     To wring hurt through anger.     ‘   That’s a big one to forgive.     Or forget.     Who’d you get to look at it?   ’

[fernsbys]

''Ow, fuck!'' Her lower leg had collided with the corner of what felt like a coffee table when she tried to feel for a place to sit. A whimper left her lips in pain, mentally cursing this fucking town for toying with them. The power outage was another form of mockery, she was sure. There was no way the settlement had caused the power outage across the entirety of town. Her fingers felt the comfort of a sofa after what felt like an eternity that she sat her ass down on. Gulping, she reached down to feel warmth trickling down her leg. It didn't feel like a wound, rather a cut, if only she could fucking see.

Putting aside the pain she was in, she needed to focus on the world outside. Remain alert for Their mockery, for tapping on the windows, for anything that told her they couldn't get in. The silence was much more eerie. She was still unsure if she was safe or not, so she had to keep quiet. Did she hear that right? Her thoughts were racing, wondering why, wondering about others she had lost to the darkness when they ran out. Her thumb found the button again. ''You're at the settlement still?'' Even though the sound coming from the walkie was nearly deafening to her ears, words laced with emotion were hard to make out. ''Have you...have you seen Stella?'' She could only hope she was safe... wherever she was. ''We got separated...I don't know where she is. I think I'm in one of the town houses,'' but sure she was not.

Pressing the walkie against her forehead in frustration, she needed to think. Think of a strategy, think of what to do. Run back to the settlement with the high chances of running back into danger? She didn't know if the main hall got overrun by Them, or what the settlement people themselves had planned. She was in the dark about it all - literally. ''I understand, Rey...'' there was a pause, in her mind, in her breathing, in her actions as she stared into nothingness, ''...things have happened in this town....things are still happening...fuck, I get it, Rey.''

a voice on the other end hadn't been what reyna had expected. it had been desperation for comfort. for help that the woman never asked for. too prideful that she could handle anything on her own. time had been so tiring. reyna was almost surprised whenever her eyes opened in the morning to take in another day of life. some nights she wrapped herself in hope that she wouldn't wake. not another day of this...just take her away. the static crinkled with emery's voice. what had the other woman meant by safe ? what measure of safety did any of them have these days ? "i..." dry mouth caused her words to pause. unsure of what more to say, reyna contemplated not answering. just twist the button off to keep her truth from spilling. keep emery safe. "i'm at the settlement." voice cracked through. reyna had mapped what little she knew of the settlement in her mind. branded it in a time of need. never quite trusting to rely on those around her. she'd learned to survive.

tucked in a small dark room, reyna hooked her guard amulet beside the door in hopes that nothing else had lurked in the dark enclosed around her. "where are you ?" maybe emery hadn't heard the shake in her voice. maybe she hadn't heard the need to tell her what had been going on inside of her. reyna wanted to detour her emotions. afraid that emery would force her punishment for charlie...emmett.. "i've been" tell her. the adoration reyna held towards the other woman caused her voice to once again pause. reyna hadn't let many close to her, not under her surface. "so tired, em."

[fernsbys]

''If you're wondering about the rumors, I'd advice you to think twice about what you're consuming as well. I'm not telling you off from having a good time but,'' she eyed the drink in his hand, a decision Emery had conciously made not to participate in by bringing her own bottle of water attached to her hip, ''don't lose focus, Dayn. This place has a reputation for polluting their substances. For fun. For pleasure. For...'' who knew what else. She didn't finish her sentence, not wanting to create tension in those who were already alert on what could happen tonight and whatnot. ''Is your brother around, too?'' She passed on another tray of drinks that were offered to them by a resident of the settlement. A thankful smile graced her face, one that faltered quickly when they went off again. ''Keep an eye on him, yeah? Better safe than sorry.''

✶ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 ; earlier at the party ✶ 𝐅𝐎𝐑 ; open

Parties were easy to get lost in. If there was one thing that Joel enjoyed more than unraveling in his paintings, it was getting the chance to fuck around with a pretty girl or two. He didn’t tend to linger for longer than a few hours with them, but just enough to enjoy himself, make them happy in some way, and effortlessly depart. No promises of another time, or even seeing each other again. Just live by the moment and enjoy it while it lasted. That was his defining romance, though he had often yearned for more. Granted their… death? upon entering Arcadia, all yearning of finding more became moot. “  How much of the rumors do you think are true?  ” he asked, taking a sip of his - whatever the fuck they put in the container - drink and turning towards his current partner in crime. He couldn’t be caught dead hanging around alone in that house of horrors.

[fernsbys]

''Stop drinking that stuff,'' Emery took the glass from her half sister's hand in the blink of an eye and poured the liquid that was left into the pot of a plant. ''I can't have people drunk on my watch -'' knowing some of the shit the settlement entertained themselves with, gritting her teeth she spoke under her breath, ''- or worse.'' Emery had been forced to attend the party, as one of the leaders in town she had to show face. Keep up the facade of peace that went on between the settlement and the common house. Even when some of her own people protested to have anything to do with the settlement - it was part of her job.

''Shit,'' she clenched her jaws, having had a gut feeling about something like this. A settlement party wasn't a normal party, it never had been in the seven years she'd been in town. But a power outage? It had to be deliberate. A final feast before Death claimed them. No, this had to be something else, she told herself despite her gut telling her differently. Just stay calm. Her gaze fell over the crowd, to observe the people that were divided by their different residencies in town yet come together by an event like this. To see the tension rise and panic settle in faces she felt obliged to protect. Her hand wrapped around Stella's upper arm, in case people started pushing, shoving, running out of fear. ''What does your gut say, Stella? What do we do?'' She didn't trust this set up for shit. Assessing the situation, she wondered what her half sister would say, before making her final decision.

location. ⁺the settlement - blackout.

well this was it. — the go softly into the night. life was expiring all around them at a constant. this labyrinth of land hadn't seemed to have any reward at the end. it was all the same. life taken. light gone. just as now, all of the light had been blown out like their last birthday candles. stella lifted her cup allowing whatever liquid remained to burn down her throat. a crutch for whatever was to come. "guess that's a wrap." arcadia was calling a curfew on their party. a celebration of life was beginning to feel less hopeful. remembering the dead was becoming their reality. darkness swallowed leaving the blonde woman unafraid. unbothered by the wave of panic, and confusion. "which devil on my shoulder should we listen to ?" stella let a sigh slowly deflate. "the one that's saying we should just drink ourselves to sleep ? ...orrrr the voice that's saying maybe we should get the fuck out of here ?" who was to say this wasn't all a trap ? an invite to all of their funerals.

[fernsbys]

Deep hues of blood smeared across her skin. Grey brown dust of sand and mud covered her body. She wasn't sure where her skin had been carved, torn apart by cuts, battered with bruises when dried blood met with ashes and dust. Blood that was hers. Blood that wasn't hers. Blood of those she once called her best mates. Blood of those that brought her here. The girls who nearly sacrificed their lives to rescue her. Who endured the night with her. Whatever that meant. Emery's head was a blur - a whole bunch of noise that couldn't make sense of everything that'd been said to her. Flashes of her best friend's face haunted her. Deprived of life. Taken away by the force of the exploding grenade. Lifeless eyes that stared right at her. His face covered in blood. His voice bellowing to 'get away', right before the earth shaking explosion deafened her temporarily, occupied the back of her mind. On a constant loop. Pulling her into a daze, unable to register anything properly.

The other person entering the room was not something Emery could focus on. Every time she blinked, they had moved to another spot in the room. If they had been an enemy, Emery would've been dead by now. Not able to respond quickly, not able to rely on her reflexes, not able to defend herself, not in this state. What she could do was trust her instincts. Her gut. And despite not knowing where she was, not recognizing anyone, not recognizing the facility as a military one, she did not feel a sense of danger when her blurry eyes fell upon the dark shade of hair and white clothing that resembled one of a doctor in uniform.

Taking a moment to shut her eyes and breathe through her resisting chest, she opened her eyes to the touch on her shoulder and the sight of the doctor having taken place by the bedside. Her hands had been fumbling with the tourniquet, to distract the part of her that tried to be present, just to feel if her leg could handle the pressure, to see if any of this was really happening. And it was. The doctor, introducing themselves as Shaw, said so. This wasn't some fucked up nightmare she was having. Not some mashed up hallucination that messed with her head. This was real. ''Fuck,'' she drawled out, her voice sounding much deeper and roughed up than she was used to.

When the doctor moved to what looked like a sink of some sorts - the blurriness in her eyes was hard to blink away - her face turned towards the silverware nicely put together on the platter next to the bed. Sterile, she hoped. Her lips parted again, her vocal chords straining when she spoke. ''Nothing I haven't gone through before,'' an act of toughness from the sergeant. Though no experience she's had before would prepare her for the pain she would go through this time. Every scar on her body had its own story, its own memory and each experience had its own special kind of pain level attached.

She moved her head back against the headboard, breathing out a harsh exhale through her nose. ''The girls...'' their names faded in and out of her mind, they were hard to remember in the state she was in. They had just said it, still their names remained a blur, ''...are they okay?'' Even when her own life was in danger, she put others first, made sure they were okay. No matter her team, friends, fellow soldiers, strangers... sometimes even those she was to consider an enemy.

There was no time to lose at this point. Everything in her body fucking hurt. With strain, she forced herself to move her trembling hands aside from the tourniquet, surrendering herself to the doctor she didn't know. Her chin moved up to meet Shaw's face, to pierce deep into their eyes to let them see the unspoken pain she was in, how she wasn't sure to trust them but had no other choice than to let them - to plead them to save their leg.

''Do it.''

Shaw would not grow used to this, they mused. Arcadia’s clinic was serviceable but resembled too closely a house of rot—and the town itself suspended like cobwebs in a ceiling, each walking through the spider silk before the chasm could claim them all. Suspended over the abyss, Shaw often wished that the threads holding all of their existence would finally succumb under their shared weight. Yet hell would not be so gracious. The spider silk lingered. The cobweb had grown in the eight years of their half-existence in the town where dreamless days were few. A half-life after having left the world behind. Their son whose voice they do not remember—only that it would have changed, the timbre of it. The house might have changed, too. Dismantled with only the foundations remaining. Husband freed of a role that he had no care for. — No. Too troublesome to think about, home. Eight years of reminiscing had brought them nothing, only made the nightmares more real, vivid. They could not linger there, could not afford for regrets to abseil into their skin. 

Not when there was so much work to be done in the clinic, where what little they had become scarcer by the day. The doctor that had come before Shaw had tried to stretch out what supplies he could—until he, too, succumbed to the night, as many had done, joining the ensemble of whispers that could be heard outside. Too many voices to drown out, too many shadows that had taken almost all of Shaw’s strength to ignore that they opted to block it out entirely—but the windowless room in which they took their nightly refuge proved inadequate, too.

Sounds of screams and pain carried through the clinic’s hallways, the doctor could only stifle their grimace, bracing themselves before stepping into view entirely. At once, they thought of inventory: what alcohol they could spare, what stitches they must do; what surgical supplies would need sterilizing. The attendants, volunteers with bleeding hearts in a town where people bled for a living, could only do so much. Easy enough to spot Charlie from the crowd, then Roux. Her voice led Shaw into the ward where a newcomer lay stretched on the bed. 

A woman: half-alive, still, but in panic. Pale skin and green eyes almost luminous against the mud and grime and blood in her skin. They walked briskly inside and began their initial examination: a tourniquet, rough and haphazardly made, wrapped across her upper leg. What former color it would have been was no longer distinguishable—now only dark, red, and stubborn. A crude stitch job for the wounds that had formed. Quickly they worked, taking the materials out of their scarcely stocked supply cabinet and placing them onto a stainless-steel tray, calculating inventory as they did. Gloves, a mask. A saline solution. Antiseptics, syringes. Gauze pads and dressing and sutures. It was almost mocking in its insufficiency, and yet—they had to make do. Always they had to make do. 

They placed the tray on the bedside cabinet and hurried to work. “So, Charlie and Roux found you,” Shaw said, forcing the words through their throat, their bedside manner dropped in favor of urgency. They searched the woman’s expression for anything revelatory of shock symptoms—and found them lucid, still, but barely. The damage was too much, they thought. But They were never as gracious as to leave someone alive; had this been another incident entirely? A permutation of it? Shaw spared another glance at the woman’s eyes, finding them brimming with tears, and found themselves unable to look away.

To be in such proximity to grime, blood, and the remains of the night—something inside them softened. Licking their lips, they leaned and crouched slightly, placing a warm, ungloved hand over the woman’s shoulder. Hoped what little warmth Shaw had left could seep through before it was replaced by something far more precise, clinical. “My name is Shaw,” they said, lips stretching over into a smile, someplace gentle, “I’m a doctor, and I’ll take good care of you. You can trust me—the people who’ve brought you in certainly do.” If only by necessity. Always they had to make do. 

They released their hand on her shoulder and walked back to the nearest sink to wash their hands and place the basin beneath the bed. “I’ll have to remove your tourniquet and reopen the wound to stitch it clean,” they said as they returned to her bedside, “Are you prepared for that?”

[fernsbys]

From the moment the lights had gone out at the settlement after a flicker or two, panic had struck people in one way or another. Emery had kept her calm - but even she could keep her calm to a certain degree. With everything that's happened lately, Emery's mental had been challenged too. Taken a toll for the worse. When the lights didn't come back on, like they usually would after a few seconds, a minute, an hour even - however long the town liked to toy with its residents, it made those who weren't part of the settlement want to return to their homes. Out of underlying fear of what fucked up plan the settlement had in store for the rest of town. Despite the great danger that waited for them outside - lurking in the dark, people had began to run. Run into the complete and utter darkness that laid over town.

Emery had ran too. After people, to keep them safe, to try and guide them back to the common house, after those who were less inclined to defend themselves. But when panic struck, groups could scatter and somehow Emery ended up alone. Ended up by herself, locked herself in an abandoned house in town. In the dark she had tried to feel for an amulet beside the door, failing at it in her state of mind. She didn't know if she'd be safe here, didn't know if anyone had grabbed the amulet, didn't know if it was there or not in the pitch black she was facing.

What was that? Did someone just say her name? Was there someone inside with her? Was she losing her mind or...?

A static noise startled her. It came from the belt around her hip, she realized quickly and reached for the device. Her grip around the walkie talkie was tight, her hand trembled as she brought it up to her ear to make sure she wasn't just hearing things. The voice that came from the other end made her painfully exhale the air she'd kept inside her lungs for too long.

''Reyna?'' Her voice faltered worse than she wanted to let on, she forgot to press the designated button. Her thumb slipped from it once, causing static on the other end before her voice came through. ''Rey? Is that you?'' She wanted to be sure. Needed to be sure she wasn't losing it. That the dark wasn't playing tricks on her. That this goddamn town wasn't messing with her mind. ''Where are you?''

One beat. Two seconds. Three words. ''Are you safe?''

location. ⁺apart.

moments of being alone didn't bring reyna much satisfaction. isolation had no longer been a place for her finger tips to curl in relaxation. sink into solace that couldn't be found in company. where no humming expectation hovered. there was no peace with company. no peace without. reyna was met with fear that identified her as the blade of more hurt to others. these days she didn't know if she feared the sharpness of her own weapon, or if she was beginning to be fond of it. coexist in some odd nature of it all. —nights such as this were more fearful of being alone. tucked into her bed with no intentions of sleep. she knew her mind too well. it had never rested to the silence of the night. no slumber was met easily. eyes scanned the ceiling until images began to form in the cracks. life was so bruised. too damaged to heal. arcadia hadn't offered much route to maneuver, so, reyna thought it was time to settle within herself. this wasn't defeat. this was adapting with that passenger that growled deep inside of her. channel nine. — the walkie talkie clung to her chest as she lay on her back before deciding to sit up. knees moved towards her chest, arms hanging over them. fingers twisted the knob. static crushing the once silenced air. this was a life line. some burst of humanity seeking something that was once a warmer part of her life. reyna wasn't even sure if her lips could part. what could be said ? there was so much space of time to fill — and surely, emery must have heard whispers by now. some judgment would be slapped upon reyna. such destruction, and mess she had caused. the brunette chewed at her bottom lip. nervous to what truth would communicate out of her. "—em...?" hoarse. reyna's eyelids closed heavily before she cleared her throat. "i... —need to tell you something..." 'reyna - you'd tell me if you were losing your mind, wouldn't you?'

@fernsbys . // closed starter.

[fernsbys]

However fucked this place was, this town, it gave her at least some sense of calm when people tried to find something to distract themselves with. Instead of holing up in a room and wither the day away. Some people who had come into town hadn't been able to deal with their new reality, a mentality that could still happen to those who'd been in a town for a while. Be it days, weeks, months, years, even decades. ''I'm glad,'' the glance in her eyes said so. Emery gave her a nod. ''Some things in town have lost their owners over time, it's nice the bike's being used again.''

Emery couldn't bear the thought of biking around, she'd always preferred either walking or driving. Preferably walking. She'd hiked her way up on mountains plenty of times in her life. The sights she'd seen she hoped to never lose to forget, though time would tell. Those were the better days of being in the military, the view of the world. In any climate, season and weather, to be seen by her eyes rather than through a smartphone or computer. ''That's nice of you,'' she said, vaguely distracted by the thought of the world out there. ''It's a slow day today.'' Emery commented, mostly to herself than to anyone really. ''Tell me, has Shaw been kind to you? Teaching you new things? I'm sure they've been.''

"I've been working at the clinic. Doing something with my skills." A shrug fell from Samara's shoulders. It was midwifery, since there wasn't a huge demand for that in town, but it was something to keep her busy. And that was a good thing. She could see how easily one could slip into a depression without something to keep them occupied. Days could blur into one another, slipping by unnoticed. "And I found a bike." Something she'd claimed as her own, not that anyone had objected.

At the question, Sami hummed. "Social I guess. Just thought I'd say hello." Because there were so few people living in the apartments at the moment, sometimes Sami didn't see the other tenants for days at a time. Shaw was currently the most common person in her life, since they both put in time at the clinic. Though Sami liked to think she was slowly making friends. Did that include Emery? @fernsbys

[fernsbys]

There was something so intriguing about Charlie, her eyes spoke volumes about pain she endured in her life. Whenever their eyes met, ever since that night she arrived into town, there was something so familiar to Emery in those eyes. Charlie had a strength that lured Emery in, whether the girl knew about the strength she possessed or not - Emery had been fond of her and the way she carried herself through each and every day. Despite everyone she had to leave behind when the blonde set foot in this cursed town, despite the loss of her best friend, despite the shit that this town threw at her every single day.

She watched those intriguing eyes, those that were filled with fire, as their pinkies curled around one another. Emery tugged on it, as if to keep her in her tiny embrace just a little longer, as if to give her more strength than she already had, a little push in the right direction, a reassurance that she was going to be there for Charlie, no matter what. Even though there was no way of knowing what would happen to either of them. Emery would try to keep her head cool. But what followed from Charlie's lips wasn't easy to hear. No matter the military background she had, this was different. This wasn't a mentally gone soldier in a battlefield who completely lost it. Charlie was a friend. A younger woman with so much potential and a long life to live still.

''Fuck, you really mean it,'' she concluded after taking a moment to really observe her facial features, to see if she'd break out into a laugh or a grin or even a chuckle that'd tell her she was just joking. But the truth was, Emery wasn't either. With a harsh exhale through her nose, she gave a stern nod. ''If that ever happens, I will try to goddamn get you back to the here and now - and if I can't ...'' flashes of previous soldiers who'd lost it on the battlefield ran through her mind, ''well ... I will do what I can to save who I can save.'' A softer way of saying that she would put her out of her misery, if it ever needed to be done.

Releasing her pinky and eye contact the same she said, ''let's gather our things and get back to town, shall we?'' With the serious talk aside, all they could do was make the best of it and hope to see another day by the end of it.

After packing up the things they brought, Emery hoisted the backpack up on her shoulder and let Charlie move out the door first, with a gentle hand on her lower back. Taking on a lighter tone when she broke out in conversation once more, ''come to think of it, did you know that Rihanna and I saw face to face after the show? We met at the bar actually, I remember now -''

the end.

It's you who I'm forever grateful for. Charlie thought about that night often, wondered if Emery did too. Judging by the older woman's words, she was just as affected by the way they'd met as Charlie was. Charlie wasn't a combat veteran, had never stepped foot in a warzone or even fantasized about going to war, and yet one night had given her a fill of inexplicable violence to last several lifetimes. It was an example of how sometime more violence yielded the same results but with more casualties, and none of those casualties were monsters. Despite the amount of time since the Humvee had rolled into town, she still refused to touch a gun or use violence against other people.

As Emery spoke, Charlie rolled her shoulder back, stretched the tightening muscles in order to release them. There was so much tension now, in her body, in her mind, she wondered if Emery could sense it. Charlie didn't like to lie, but she also hated the idea of ever disappointed Emery.

I feel myself everyday slipping away from the reality of this place. That would be honesty in its nicest form. Charlie saw shadows in tree lines, felt hands around her throat when there were none, woke up standing in the middle of the radio station, hand on the door to go out in the pitch blackness of night. She heard voices, felt the heat of fire, inhaled smokes until her lungs burned, drowned when treading water. If ever she could be normal, sane, it had long left Charlie. Perhaps it had left Charlie the night they met, or at the discovery or another body, or perhaps her sanity had left quietly, in a peaceful moment where it felt safe to go, while she was being held by Roux or laughing with Conor, or horse-riding with Rain. Perhaps it had been a merciful death, her sanity, and perhaps it hadn't died at all but had retreated itself in the part of Charlie that still felt childlike wonder and joy, so deeply buried 6 feet under that it might have well been dead.

Charlie hated to lie but lying in Arcadia was a mercy. They lied to themselves everyday; that they would get out of here, that they would live, that they could love and be loved without consequence. She extended her right hand, pinky held out like a sword and then curled it around Emery's. "I promise," she lied. Charlie thought then of Emery, of what she could have been outside of this place.

"You have to promise too, that if I lose my mind, that if I become a risk to others, that you will let me go."