settledwounds

[settledwounds]

I don’t know a Meyer. HUNTERS – Van Glooten’s Day 1972 Butter Sculptor of the Year (S02E01) ››› Logan Lerman as Jonah Heidelbaum

[settledwounds]

Easton wasn't heeding anyone's warnings about staying close to town or colony house as he ventured on his own toward the woods. He was always cautious, but he didn't want to be stuck in this hell like everyone else. Easton needed to get back to his life. Maybe there was something missing and if just someone figured it out, then they could all return to what was before.

No matter what path he took, he would end up where he began. It almost seemed fruitless, but it didn't stop him from trying again every day. He was stuck in purgatory and all he wanted was out, whether he ended up in hell or not.

A twig snapped beneath his feet and his eyes shot towards the stranger staring back at him, "hello," he quietly whispered. He didn't realize anyone was out here, especially someone he didn't recognize from colony house. Easton was told that those from town didn't come out here, so who was this? He gave her a small wave, "I'm Easton," he offered, "I haven't been here long, so I've been looking around. I didn't mean to disturb you."

🝤      open,   on the edge of the forest

      it's one of those ooey,   gooey      high - summer heatwaves;      alice rouses early,   not even the birds quite yet alive to greet her with their morning song,   so that she might complete the day's tasks before the sun bears too      heavily      down upon her.      but this plan will prove trivial.      in just a few short hours,   it begins to      suffocate;      that sultry sort of warmth,   waves of it shimmering above the stretch of dead grass they have crushed beneath their feet.      they feel it like a thin sheet,   wrapped close to the nose,   to the mouth.      every gulp of air she heaves is      wet.      but wood must be split regardless,   lest the two measly fish she's caught be left to other beasts of prey,   and she finds herself fading into the motion of it.      automatic,   unconscious.      a bead of sweat to follow each blow,   the bit of their blade against the grain,   over and over and over again.      drip.   thwack.   drip.   thwack.      out there,   the cicadas drone on,   and meld into a kind of chorus.      drip.   thwack.      familiar.      drip.   thwack.      a voice,   almost.      drip.   thwack.      no,   voices.      drip.   thwack.      and ones she knows.      drip   ⸺

the      snap!      of a twig upsets this stupor,   and they rise from their stump with a jolt.      all other noise bleeds away,   and what remains is the thrum of their heart;      quick as a rabbit's,   deafening.      their gaze darts through the treeline,   now vigilant.      and without a second thought,   the grip on their hatchet is      loosed and sent spinning.      it takes some handful of breaths before alice comes to see that it has only lodged itself in a nearby tree.      still,   the sense of another pair of eyes at her back persists.      and with a harsh,   though unsteady tone,   does she offer a simple,      "   helloˀ   "

[settledwounds]

Easton let out all the stress he had held onto the moment his eyes spotted her. All the worry slowly melted away and he felt okay, not great, but in the moment okay was better than nothing. "Everything is truly fucked," he mirrored her words, "I don't understand either. This isn't logical." The two had led the last four years of their lives based rational and clear thinking and nothing in this place made any sense.

Since his arrival, Easton hadn't had a moment of rest where he could breathe, but now with Zelda here he felt his fractured mind put itself slightly back together. Losing her in the scuffle had been the scariest thing he had experienced and internally he wasn't right. Things were as right as they could be and he'd be thankful for that.

Nodding, "as good as I can be," he sighed, "someone helped me, not before he stole my jacket." It was an odd experience, but nothing here was normal, "they had somethings so I could patch myself up," he pointed to the cut on his forehead, "and this place, colony house, it's like a hippie dippie free for all," it was a small joke, "I don't know what to do here.

"Are you okay?"

He was stronger than her. How was he so strong? Why was she the only one crying, panicking? A flash of shame electrocutes her, but just as quickly as those thoughts came, they're gone at the hold of his embrace. She breathes in deeply in an attempt to steady her breathing, standing in silence for a moment.

"Everything is..." Finally, some words find their way out of her mouth. She can feel wetness against his shirt from the remnants of her tears. Her eyes sting, and her nose is running, but at long last she can feel like she has the capacity to speak. "I don't understand." Zelda's words come out as low as a whisper, feeling her throat tighten toward the end of her sentence.

You've spoken too much, she thinks. She already feels like she looks so weak in front of him, and now he would have to live with this memory of her in such a fragile state. She sniffles, attempting her best to hold back any other tears threatening to fall, pulling back from his embrace. Crybaby.

"Are you okay?"

[settledwounds]

Easton thrashed against the being that tried to keep him down, "calm down?" He fought against whoever kept grabbing, "you're the one grabbing at me," it came out as a growl. Couldn't the stranger see that he was alive and the pilfering needed to be over? Easton needed to find Zelda and get back to their car before this person could end his life. A sting burned at his arms as he felt buried under the weight of the other, "get the fuck off of me." Maybe it was the adrenaline of the whole ordeal that kept him belligerent, but he wouldn't give up that quickly. He would have to deal with the pain later. "Who are you?" He called out once more, "Zelda!" His voice shouted into the sunset, hoping someone else hadn't gotten to her first. "How do I know you're not the one who hurt me? You're hurting me now you asshole!" Easton knew his body would run out of steam eventually, but every moment he could fight, he would, "where the hell are we? Why can't I remember how I got here?" Everything after going around the fallen tree on the road was a blur and now his best friend was missing as well. "I just need to know if my friend is okay. A blonde woman, around 5'4"," his body stopped the battle as he let the stranger take over.

The last thing Cade expected was for it to move, and suddenly, everything shifted. Delicate approach and consideration were reserved for the dead, the fallen of every attempt to make it out alive— but the living? They didn't seem to matter until death was at the door.

"Oh fuck— fuck!" Cade cried out, jolted by the sudden outburst of what should have been buried soon enough. The red that stained between them suddenly poured out hot. The proof of life was now threatened by it's own validation. And it was getting all over the jacket. "Whoa, buddy, calm down!"

Shaking hands pulled what was left of the scratched leather out from underneath him, but Cade's grip was threatened by the thrashing of what what he assumed was dead. Who was dead.

Using the full weight of his body just as Fletcher taught him, endless attempts to learn to fight with skill instead of just will, he pushed the man back down. There was some guilt using his wound to his advantage, but Cade pushed him down. What lingered between the trees was still unknown, including rumors of those who'd rather linger here than in town or Colony House.

"Hey, hey, hey! Shut it! You're bleeding, man. You're hurt. I need you to calm down so I can see what's going on," Cade instructed him, voice steady despite the pounding in his chest. "I need to see how bad it is because I gotta get us out of here, alright? You need help, and we can't be here after dark."

[settledwounds]

Easton had walked the entire length of the outskirts of this nightmare. Each time he'd ended up in the same place, stuck without a clue as to Zelda's whereabouts. He probably shouldn't have been walking all alone and despite how sprawling colony house was, he felt trapped. Looking for her gave him a sense of purpose since everything of his had been stripped.

He had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice the woman sitting silently in the grass, only her voice interrupting him, "sorry," he moved three paces to the left, "I think I'm lost." He had gone in one big circle, only to end up somewhere he didn't recognize, "you wouldn't happen to know where the colony house is, by any chance. A general direction would even work." Easton just needed to find his way back by dusk to avoid the danger that lurked beyond the woods. He was frustrated with his lack of knowledge about this place, but he wasn't the only one.

⅋. closed . lara + @settledwounds .

this   purgatory   is   quite   hellish   .   it   stains   her   cheeks   every   night   ,   mascara   streaks      from   lids   to   the   very   point   of   her   chin   as   she   prays   to   the   moon   ,   the   only   witness   that   had   been   bared   that   fateful   night   her   sister   disappeared   .   the   very   essence   of   twin   telepathy   twists   her   gut   ,   wrenches   it   until   the   last   of   her   hope   is   bled   dry   .   lara   knows   there   is   no   going   back   ,   no   plea   desperate   enough   to   be   met   with   an   outcome   viable   to   her   needs   .

dead   or   not   ,   her   sister   haunts   her   .   a   cry   that   beckons   her   to   a   waking   settlement   as   lara   stared   absently   into   the   abyss   before   it   became   morning   .   this   was   a   casualty   that   occurred   nightly   ,   the   only   explanation   to   give   when   another’s   gaze   lingers   a   little   too   long   on   the   dark   circles   beneath   her   eyes   .   she’s   zombie - like   in   her   movements   until   she   reaches   an   open   area   .   the   sun   had   just   breached   a   peak   ,   giving   her   time   to   soak   in   as   much   as   possible   without   fearing   for   the   night   .   such   a   brightness   narrows   lids   ,   body   falling   to   the   dirt   as   lara   takes   a   seat   .   she   finds   herself   here   more   often   than   not   ,   in   solitude   ,   but   that   bliss   cannot   last   forever   .

narrowed   lids   fall   shut   ,   finally   able   to   rest   while   lara   focuses   entirely   on   her   breathing   .   in   ,   out   ,   in ,   out   .   until   a   shadow   interferes   and   fills   the   spot   between   her   and   direct   rays   .   ❛   you’re   in   my   way   .   ❜   there’s   not   a   sour   ounce   in   her   tone   ,   volume   normal   and   even   relaxed   as   the   words   fall   .   there’s   not   enough   energy   left   for   her   to   be   angry   about   such   a   minor   dent   in   her   plans   .

[settledwounds]

Daytime was the only time that Easton could venture out in this new town that demanded his existence. There was no way out, he tried and everyone who came before him tried as well. The only worry now was Zelda and if she was stuck here too. He didn't venture too far from the colony house just due to the injuries he had sustained, but as soon as he healed, he'd go off and search for her. "Uh, yeah," he mumbled to Nazli, another resident of the colony house, "honestly, who am I going to tell?" As far as he knew he was the newest guest of this town and right now, he was still trying to understand all of it. Grabbing one of the blueberries, he felt a small sense of normalcy, as if he wasn't stuck in this place with strangers.

𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓    ⸻   somewhere in town at some patch of grass with anyone

even with a handmade basket filled with freshly picked blueberries near them, nazli's hands are instead focused on the feel of the grass beneath them. when your whole existence seems bleak ( or perhaps even just wholly stuck in some personal purgatory ⸻ as unwanted by reality as they were by their parents ). attention turns to the footsteps that catch their attention, looking up at someone who was unlucky enough to walk by just close enough. "they're fresh." nazli nods towards the basket of blueberries, legs crossed at the ankles and knees coming towards her chest as she rests her elbow on her knee. "if you don't tell on me, i'll share some with you just this once. i don't want someone to go looking for my berry bush and steal these from me. can i trust you?" as if she would. no harm in some company, she supposes.

[settledwounds]

LOGAN LERMAN Caroline Tompkins ph. for The Cut (2023)

[settledwounds]

Easton had hoped that going on runs would give him some clue to Zelda's whereabouts, but so far he had found nothing that would tell him where she was. The other colony house residents were saying he was going off of false hope. Until he saw proof that she was dead, he would keep hoping that in all of this shit, she was still around here somewhere. "Hmm," his eyes spotted the cigarette pack in Wes' hands and shook his head, "no, I'm good." He had only smoked a few cigarettes in his life, but the risk of dying was far greater than the rush of nicotine and social pressure ever could be. Now, it didn't matter because he could die at any moment, "liquor sounds far better right now though." Sighing, "how long you been here?" It was a curiosity he couldn't help but satisfy. The last few days since he had woken up he wondered how long this place had existed and how many people who had gone missing in the world that ended up here.

── car graveyard , weston & easton !

what had he expected to find, out among the pilfered remains of scrapped vehicles in the aptly named 'graveyard' on the town's borders? fearless—or perhaps simply reckless—west was one of the few colony members dumb enough to throw himself to the lions and scavenge. so far, three hours of effort sunk, he had managed to salvage a spool of copper wire that hung wrapped around his shoulder, one of those dashboard bobbleheads and, with a euphoric cry, a pack of smokes. "well, i'll be damned!" and that worn head of red dye shot up like a mole rat, "you wanna split this pack right now, or hit one an' trade the rest for some bottles of 'shine?" @settledwounds

[settledwounds]

Easton still hadn't come to terms with the gravity of the situation he had found himself in. There was no way home and he was alone, for good. Zelda's disappearance weighed on him. The residents at Colony House had told him that he was lucky to have been found alive in the woods and hoped that his friend had been taken quickly for her sake. It still didn't ease his mind. He attempted to assimilate with the rest of the people who lived in the colony house, but his head was still stuck mourning his best friend. So much so that he swore he could hear her voice call out to him. His eyes even spotted her in the distance. Squinting against the sunlight he could almost see the outline of his best friend, "Zelda?" Quickly forgetting about whatever he was tasked to do, his feet dragged him to her and realized she wasn't a mirage this place was tricking him. Easton watched as tears spilled from her eyes and immediately pulled her into his arms, "there's no reason to be sorry," his hands found her back, soothing her as best as he could. "I'm so fucking glad you're alive," he felt a sigh leave his body, expelling every ounce of stress he had that he held on to her waiting for a sign from her, "you have no fucking idea."

for: @settledwounds location: outside the colony house

"Easton?" His name sprawls out of her lips with familiarity, a breath hitching in her throat at the figure in the distance. The wind whistled through the branches, leaves crunching beneath her worn-out shoes with every slow step she took. "I-I thought you..." Then, she trails off, somehow unable to find the strength to even finish her sentence.

It was a painful thing, having to lose one important person after the other. It was even more exhausting to have come to the realization that Easton was not, in fact, gone. A deep sense of relief followed suit, and yet Zelda could not help but be filled with grief and despair.

Her cheeks flushed, betraying the turmoil within, and she pressed her lips together as if in doing so, she could contain the flood of emotions. In a fleeting moment, a single teardrop rebelled, leaving a glistening trail down her cheek. Her legs feel like they move on their own to the brunette, arms wrapping tightly around him, her face nuzzling against his chest.

"I'm sorry... I'm s-so..." Tears begin to stream down her face, and suddenly she feels like she can't catch her breath.

[settledwounds]

The ground felt soft below Easton, damp and cold almost. His body felt heavy as the rustle of trees surrounded him. He couldn't remember much about last night, other than losing Zelda in the chaos of the darkness. Recalling the tree across the road and then suddenly the rest was a blur that he couldn't recount and a panic shot through him.

He felt his arms being manipulated by someone other than himself, "Zelda," he yelled out, shoot up and seeing a stranger instead of his best friend. Eyes adjusting to the brightness, "what the hell are you doing?" Easton was in an unfamiliar place and all his sense were on high alert. "Who are you? Where am I?"

Easton felt stuck in a nightmare he couldn't escape. Jerking away from the stranger, pushing him in the progress, "get the fuck off me!"

open to: easton james | @settledwounds location: the woods, outskirts of town & colony house

The dirt stung when he crashed into the floor, bark piercing his palms on his way down under the shuffle of fallen leaves. Cade didn't feel it yet, though— his mind was still mulling over what he's fallen over, the concept of who seemingly long gone. His stomach twisted in knots that were pulled taunt with every ragged breath. He had seen blood, that had been what startled him and why he'd lost his footing. Cade had seen bodies left in tattered remnants of those he'd known before, and he'd never grown accustomed to it. He didn't want to. The revolt against it in his memory ensured that he'd never picture Olivia that way, wherever she was— whether it was man or creature who'd done it. He knew his mind well enough to craft the catastrophe and he'd never look long enough to burn it into his memory. But supplies. The wit and instinct of a survivalist was sickening, and Cade wasn't sure when he'd developed it. Adrenaline warm in his body, he pushed himself upright to look back at the body lying amongst the roots of the forrest floor. A jacket for him, shoes for Hughie who he'd been on the way to see, a shirt for Nazli if she cut it right, pants for Videl, a watch for Xander. All it took was a quick engagement. On his feet, Cade moved slowly in its direction. It was the middle of the day and the heat alone from the sun beating down on them was enough to convince him nothing would be coming for what was left of the man any time soon. He reached forward, pulling the jacket off the arms and peeling it away.

[settledwounds]

❝ EVERYBODY IS A BOOK OF BLOOD. WHEREVER WE'RE OPENED, WE'RE RED. ❞

 ⸻. ᚠᚱᛟᛗ  ⸻  logan lerman. cis man. he/him. ⸻  i saw EASTON JAMES around COLONY HOUSE, you know? the  29 years old that was driving from BROOKLYN, NEW YORK  when they saw the tree on the road. EASTON has been here for TWO DAYS and I think they were A FOURTH YEAR MEDICAL STUDENT before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are now struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and  seek a way out without losing themselves or dying.  lets hope you at least survive the night.  ⸻

GENERAL   information.  ⸻

full   name easton nathaniel james

nickname(s)  easton

age   twenty-nine

gender   identity  cis man

orientation    bisexual

place   of   birth   baltimore, maryland

date   of   birth     may 2nd, 1994

former   occupation medical student at nyu

3   positive traits  dauntless, incisive and steadfast

3   negative traits  acrimonious, persistent and volatile

moral alignment  lawful neutral

faceclaim  logan lerman

TOWN   information.  ⸻

current   residency   colony house

current   occupation doctor

BIOGRAPHY   your   character's   background.  (TW: death, medical explanations) ⸻

Easton hoped he would move through this life without incident, without anything that would shake up his whole world, but nobody gets what they really want.

Easton's world was mundane, ordinary even. The son of two Polish immigrants with a younger brother never screamed unique for him. He was just one of many in school as a child. His parents did the best they could, but they would often work long hours. Thankfully, he had his younger brother Ezra in his life to make the days less ordinary.

Despite the pressure he felt from the outside, Ezra always seemed to take his stress away effortlessly. While Easton felt lost in the universe, Ezra always seemed sure of himself. That's what was the worst about his accident. At fourteen years old, Ezra not only insisted on becoming involved in school sports but demanded it in hopes to integrate himself more. Eventually their parents caved and he was able to start playing football for their high school, excelling in it almost immediately.

It wouldn't be much longer until Ezra experienced the last blow, literally. A usual game, just like the others before, that ended up with his brother facing up on the turf. As a precaution they went to the hospital, but was diagnosed with nothing more than a simple head injury and sent home without further testing. Days later, in the middle of the school day an ambulance arrived to take the younger James brother to the hospital.

It was an undiagnosed traumatic brain injury from the blow to his head. If it had been caught early enough, Ezra would have been fine, but without a CT scan to diagnose the injury, his brain was left to bleed and the pressure caused him to seize and lose consciousness. Ezra never woke up after that. At sixteen years old, Easton became an only child.

The hospital took his parents aside, offered them a measly 500,000 that went as quickly as it came, to avoid a lawsuit and without knowing anything else, they accepted. It didn't matter what payout the James family received, it didn't take away their loss. Easton couldn't understand what had happened, that he lost his brother from a stupid mistake. After that, Easton was done living a life of uncertainty.

He became obsessed with his brother's case, even if it would never bring back his brother he learned the mistake they had made and he enraged. The system failed them and he would do anything to make sure that wouldn't happen again.

Studying for the rest of his high school years, he rose academically to make sure that he could get into the best school, the best programs so that he could become a doctor that would be more diligent than those who treated his brother. His parents watched their oldest go from a soft young boy to a toughened man. He had gotten into the University of Maryland without trouble and dedicated all his time and studies to prepare for medical school.

All that hard work paid off and he accepted a position at the NYU medical school. Vindication was within reach and even if time passed, Easton never forgot about Ezra and what happened. He had seen numerous cases in school of those with a head injury, each one of them correctly diagnosed and they left the school with their lives which was never offered to Ezra.

Easton was about ready to graduate, but his best friend suggested a road trip to upstate New York for one last celebration of fun before they all went their separate ways with their residencies. However, a fallen tree would derail their plans.

Through the woods, Easton lost his friend and managed to be discovered by people who helped him and took him to a place that he was safe. He felt like he was losing his brother again when they told him that there was no way out of this place he had stumbled upon and now he faces the same pain he felt all those years ago.

Now, he's been hearing his brother's voice at night and slowly he's going mad.