She nodded slowly, eyeing him nervously. "I'm Lucy." * * * He nodded slowly, frowning. "Yeah. It's not the cannibals you need to worry about, Blaise. It's the Plaguers."
He nodded, tending to her wound carefully, bandaging it. *** Her brows furrowed, as she watched them before hurrying out of the room and speaking to a few people. "Be on high alert. They were attacked. Not sure if they were followed. Keep someone near the entrance just in case."
She winced slightly as he tended to her wound, but didn't complain, avoiding his gaze. Her brows were furrowed and she seemed nervous. She smelled like smoke, but there was something under that smell, something sweet and summerlike. Cherry blossoms, maybe. "You're not a healer," she said after a moment, her gaze flickering up to him curiously. * * * Ellis watched her go and Aisling frowned, looking up at Ellis. "Do you know her?" "Vaguely," Ellis said with a shrug. "She got caught in a trap and I freed her."
"I know," he said gruffly, pulling away when he was finished and standing with a frown. He was rather tall. "But I've bandaged before and everyone else is busy. You can join the others now." Blaise entered the infirmary, gathering everyone who had been helped, bringing them back to the room. A few minutes later, Rory entered as well, holding the little girl. Jaz accompanied her.
Lucy looked up at the little girl, her eyes softening as she watched her. Her gaze darted to Rory for a moment before she looked down again, saying nothing. Emerson's gaze landed on Rory as well, and his frown deepened, resting his head back against the wall of the room, his arms folded disapprovingly. He remembered her, and the data he had on her swirled in his mind. Ellis was sitting onthe edge of the bed, playing some sort of hand game with the kids, trying to keep them calm.
Rory approached Lucy, Jaz following behind her. She offered her the girl as Jaz spoke. "She said it was smoke inhalation and that she needs to rest."
She took the girl gratefully, holding her in her arms. "Thank you," she said sincerely, running her fingers through the toddler's blonde hair. "Seriously. Thank you."
She gave a nod, looking around. She saw Emerson, her brows furrowing slightly before they left the room.
Emerson hadn't slept for days. Dark circles had begun to take residence under his sharp blue eyes, although they were not bloodshot and they darted around suspiciously. He hadn't shaved either, his stubble contributing to his look of wild panic. On this particular day, he was writing out plans in their room, jotting down ideas frantically. Even his neat, cursive writing had begun to take on a ragged appearance and he wrote hastily, frowning with worry. * * * Ellis missed the woods. His brow furrowed as he moved through the streets, his gun at his side. He missed the green grass and the sun shining on his face. He missed the rabbits he would see in the forest and the rushing river, its waters clear despite the wreckage around it. He followed the road, tipping his head back to look at the sky and took a deep breath. * * * Aisling felt claustrophobic. The building, although warm and welcoming, was just too full. There were too many people in one space. She had managed to break away that afternoon and was struck by how lovely it felt to be out in the air, away from all the worried members of her clan. Her fingers slipped around an old, rusty handle of an abandoned, boarded-up skyscraper's back entrance, and with a small grunt, she tugged the door open, looking into the darkness curiously. * * * Lucy had lost her tools. She felt as if she had lost a part of herself. At least once per hour, she would find herself reaching down to pull out her torch, only to find her fingers brushing the empty loop of her tool belt. She figured that she must have lost them while they were fleeing from the fire, but she was still devastated by the loss. On this day, about a week after the incident, she was so desperate that she was sitting on the floor, crosslegged, attempting to make a wrench out of old paperclips and binder clips.
Rory looked into the room curiously, her hands on the door. She took a breath before stepping in, approaching him a bit nervously. *** Blaise was on the roof of the building they lived. She had been rather busy, helping the new people accommodate. This morning she stood outside in the bright sunlight, pinning them to the clothing lines as they blew in the breeze. *** Dion was out as well, his walking stick in hand as he stepped along a silent highway. Broken down and long rusted cars sat as the sun beat down, only paralleled by a cool gust of wind that came every so often. Summers in the city were always hot. *** Jaz was working in the building. He was extending the rooms to to fit more people. Today it was the main room. The wall separating the two rooms would be demolished and it would become larger. He sighed, standing up. He came back, stretching his arms, before noticing Lucy. "What are you doing?"
Emerson tore a page out of the notebook but glanced up at Rory as she approached. For some reason, he seemed to have a strange softness for her. He folded the paper cleanly in half and looked up at her, raising one eyebrow. "Mallory. What can I do for you?" * * * His gaze eventually fell upon Blaise, up on the roof of their building. Ellis watched her for a moment, his eyes thoughtful, before he headed to their building, climbing the stairs quickly. He broke onto the roof and crossed over to her. "People can see you from down on the road," he said, sounding a little concerned. "Does that worry you?" * * * Aisling frowned thoughtfully, pulling the door wider open. It screeched against the hinges, the noise echoing through the streets, and she looked around for a moment before stepping into the building. * * * Based on their previous interactions, Jaz would understand at this point that Lucy was afraid and intimidated by him. When he approached her, though, she scarcely gave him a second glance. Her nimble fingers were winding the wire from the paperclips around the base of the binder clip with the passion of a woman obsessed. "You have a leak," she muttered, sounding distracted, "in the bathroom. It's dripping water every second of every day. One moment with my wrench, and I could take care of it, but I don't have my wrench, and I'm dying, Jaz." She threw the concoction away from them in frustration, tipping her head back to look at him. "I really think I might be dying."
She relaxed slightly, her head tilted as she sat down, observing him. She felt the floor idly, saying nothing. *** She looked over at him in surprise before looking down on the street. "Not particularly.. They can only see when I'm near the edge." This prompted her to step away before hanging up a sheet. "It'll be alright." *** He hopped over the barrier and onto the street, approaching the maze of buildings. Occasionally he picked a flower or plant and stored it into his bag. *** He pursed his lips, before shrugging slightly and turning back with a sigh. "I have tools. I can fix the sink."
He looked down at her, feeling a little confused. People didn't come to Emerson just to chat. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He paused before a small smirk crossed his lips. "Get caught by any creepy plaguers in the forest lately?" * * * He frowned slightly before nodding. "If you say so." There was a pause before he gestured towards the sheets with his hand. "Need any help?" * * * Aisling moved a little into the darkness, squinting in the dim light, before she heard the door squeal. She turned back, her eyes wide, just in time to see the door swing shut. "*squee!*." She ran over to it, pounding on the metal door. "*squee!*!" * * * Her hands rested on his arm and her eyes were wide. "You have tools?" she asked desperately. "Oh, Jesus. Jaz, please let me fix it. I'm dying. I mean it. I think I might die."
She glared, raising an eyebrow before flicking his arm. She stood, unsure if she was allowed to stay. *** Blaise looked over, seeming impressed by his offer to help. "Wow. If you'd really like to, you can." *** Eventually Dion crossed a building. He heard a faint sound and approached it in confusion, inspecting it warily. *** He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her persistence. "Alright, sure. Come with me."
He laughed slightly, despite himself. "You're okay, then. What's going on?" * * * "What if I'd only kinda like to?" he asked, sounding slightly amused as he picked up a sheet, moving to hang it. * * * He would hear banging on the door, surrounded by cursing. "*squee!*! *squee!*, *squee!*, *squee!*!" There was a silence before there was a huge thud, followed by groaning. * * * She exhaled in relief, following him expectantly, her brow furrowed.
She shrugged, seeming mostly curious as to what he was doing, leaning slightly over his shoulder. *** She raised an eyebrow at him playfully. "Then you're not allowed to help, obviously." *** She seemed confused, tapping the door with his walking stick. "Hullo?" *** They went back into the room that he was working on, and he picked his toolbox off of the floor and offered it to her curiously.
