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         ă  â  Did I really want to stay on this road longer,                       knowing it was only going to end in devastation?
                                        task 03. the playlist -- listen.Â
#risktask#track01.mp3#this is so messy tbh!!! both are#to be updates probably bc i need to go thru 100 albums
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âYes, there should be a lot, but what kid wants to learn about the past in front of what may be the biggest disaster seen in the 21st-century? Akin to that of the dinosaur extinction, with humans dying out like flies? They focus more on surviving the night than learning about what Christopher Columbus did to the native population of Latin America or what Aristotleâs rhetorical triangle means -- anything we say as teachers isnât exactly verbatim, anyway. Textbooks are dead weight and we need to scorch through whatever stuck in our minds before the apocalypse to teach. An education doesnât guarantee survival like it did before this; my college degrees are now something to stuff in the fireplace, if anything.â Elliot grew quiet, letting his words sink into his mind. Was he just rambling? The situation placed on these kids was exhausting, and he couldnât imagine being in their shoes. As a kid, he was carefree and didnât have to worry so much about dying the next day. Now? These kids? Death was synonymous to living. He turned to the other male, offering some sort of sympathetic smile. âYeah, I heard about that. Didnât know him very well, but anyone could tell Kyle was a good man, with good intentions. Iâm sure he put up a fight -- and should be remembered honorably.â He nodded, turning back to the fire in front of them. âSure. Sometimes you wake up and still think youâre at your apartment and not in some man-made tent with three other people with you. Fuck, sometimes I can still remember what it felt like to light up your cigarette, or what it felt like to drink a little after a long week. If I had known we were going to be dry, I wouldâve stacked up on cigarettes and alcohol like they were rations.â The teacher laughed. âOr is that just the dirty addict in me talking?â
âSurely there must be a lot to do lesson wise, teach kids about the past and all that.â He asked, looking at him. âYeah, people dying, not returning, I can understand that. Us guards have been on higher alert since we heard about Kyleâs death.â He mumbled, thinking about the death for a moment. âItâs far worse now honestly.â He mumbled shaking his head. âBetter to take a break, than to constantly be dealing with some of the stuff we have to, just for a few minutes try and forget at least.â
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"Oh, my god. Thank god, I thought you might have been dying from something else,â Elliot all but exclaimed, his relief coming in waves. âClearly, Iâm not a connoisseur of anything related to medicine. I thought the black plague had come back and gotten you or something -- too much of an exaggeration?â The teacher grinned, realizing he sounded like a fool for saying that. âAn outsider? Wow.â What could he say? He was always impressed when he encountered outsiders who were still kicking, especially after the past events. âAre you missing anything? Like...is this all youâre packing? What about food and jackets?â If this was a result of the cold and hunger, there was no telling when the next time she would faint was -- or if Amara will have the same fate as today.
Amara nodded slowly when he explained that he moved her somewhere safer. it was more than she could ask for actually. Sheâd been a good person and she really didnât feel that she deserved to die that wayâ fainting and getting eaten or shot. Then again, he didnât know her. It was not his responsibility to ensure that she was kept safe. It meant a lot to her. âThank you very much.â She told him, her voice sounding softer and slightly more genuine now that she was beginning to get her bearings and control back. She checked herself for her weapons, realising she had them, before making sure they were all away - hidden on her person - and then holding her hands up to show she wasnât a danger, before moving forward to take the bag from him. âThank you.â She repeated, sitting back down where sheâd woken up. âIâm not, no. Iâm an outsider.â She shook her head when he suggested a medic, âI appreciate the offer, but Iâm actually a nurse myself. And Iâm ninety percent sure that that was a result of the cold and hunger.â
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Elliotâs smile came back more genuinely. âYouâre right, this isnât my place, but fuck -- thinking of lesson plans is just ... mind-numbing after a while. Uh, same reason. I needed to distract myself -- everythingâs been kind of chaotic with everyone ever since the blizzard, you know? âM guessing for you too, though; or, always is? Since you have to be on constant look out.â Elliot shook his head. âWould kill me in a second, man. Iâd be sneaking out for breaks every ten seconds just so I donât burnout,â the teacher said, smiling.
âNot really, I mean iâm not a teacher like you are, iâm a guard. Being out and about is my job.â He retorted as he watched Elliot cautiously as he moved over to take a seat beside him. âI was just sitting out here thinking, itâs my night off.â He explained, looking over at him. âWhat about you?â
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What made you want to join the tide?
âThey wanted the same things I did. I know itâs practically impossible to help everyone, but to actively reject others for your own survivalâŠI wouldnât be able to do that. I know what itâs like be out there, not knowing how long you have left; Iâm sure others do, too, not just Crimson Tide. To each his own. Tide was something that felt more accepting than anything else I had been introduced to before. Iâm not besmirching the Reapers -- theyâve made it this far with plenty of resources to spare. Theyâre smart, but I donât regret my decision.â
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Got a crush on anyone?
âNo. Iâm thirty-five years old; everyone here is, like, twelve.â
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What was your favourite song before the apocalypse?
Uh. Me Quema by La Banda Arrolladora.
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"I should be asking you that,â the man responded, letting his face fall from the mask he had put on. With a clear sign that danger wasnât imminent, Elliot allowed himself to relax. He wrote a mental note to himself, telling himself this was something he needed to do more; he was exhausted. He practically dragged himself over next to the guard, sitting down and staring at the fire in front of him. He tried to pull the faintest of a smile on his face, deciding to slip into the simplicity of this evening. Why was Kaleb even here? Didnât he have a job to do? (The same could be said about him, but...) âWhat are you doing out here -- honestly? Staring at the fire and waiting for it to tell you something?â He attempted to joke.
Hearing the voice, he figured out who it was instantly. âWell obviously Elliott, youâre talking to me.â Kaleb replied, running a hand through his hair. âWhat exactly are you doing out here?â He questioned, hoping that his bottle was hidden well within the bag beside him. âCare to join me?â He asked tilting his head and smiling slightly, the buzz feeling stronger as he moved his head around.Â
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Sleepless nights werenât uncommon to Elliot. Even before the apocalypse began, he would find himself in the same position he was currently in: sprawled on his bed (or sleeping bag), staring up at the ceiling with his forearm covering his forehead, praying sleep would come to him. Now it was even worse - his thoughts would race at light speed; there was so much that could go wrong in this world and that did little to ease Elliotâs prone-to-nerves self. He understood, however, that the other male that shared his tent was dealt a shorter stick from the pile. He didnât know how far it went, or how bad it was, but heâd seen him; face constructed like he was confused, angry, terrified during his sleep. He woke up right when he was drifting to sleep, and most days, Elliot is far too deep into his REM cycles to help; today was an exception. Freddie jolted him awake from his thoughts. Confused, Elliot slouched up and turned towards the other. âHey, man. You okay?â He questioned after a while, giving the other time to regain his breath. Of course he wasnât - anyone with some common sense would see Freddieâs reaction and be concerned.
@elliothuerta
Heâd been asleep for maybe only twenty minutes, maybe more Freddie wasnât sure, but finding himself waking up in a cold sweat once more after a hellish dream caused him to reach for the small lamp in the corner of the room. He didnât even know if his tent buddy was in there, but he didnât care, he was struggling for breath and to find his grip on reality he just needed the light.
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"Jesus Christ!â Elliot was making it a habit to roam around the edges of the campgrounds, even taking a risk and slipping into the outside for a run or two. He knew that it had to stop, but today was an exception. He didnât even know where he was going - he just needed a breath of fresh air (which he got plenty of already). His palms raised and his heart still beating from discovering someone else along the path, he knew it was time to stop roaming outside. He needed to just stick with his schedule and the two rooms that confided him: the classroom and his tent. âPut it away,â he said, trying to appear nonchalant (Elliot didnât know how successful he was if he could feel his nerves raising up his spine). âIâm not a walker.â
The night set in and Kaleb was feeling a good buzz, he sat in front of a fire enjoying being out away from the group. He didnât have any responsibility tonight, just to relax. Closing his eyes for a moment, he listened to the distance moans of zombies. Opening his eyes a moment later, he noticed a figure approaching and reached for his gun, ready to take them out.
#kaleb#kaleb1#i barely reread this and didnt realize that his gun wasnt out (or was it???) if it wasnt im so sorry!!#ill rewrite the reply??
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"Uh, yeah,â he responded. âYou fainted, so I moved you a little closer away from any danger. I think I still have...â his voice trailed off as he turned around and searched for his bag. Finding it, he looked inside, noting the small flask he had brought with him and any possessions the girl had with her after she fainted were still there. Elliot pushed the bag towards her, still keeping a steady distance. He was aware that his weapon was still at his disposal. Although he didnât want to, Elliot knew that if things turned for the worst...it would have to be an option. âAre you part of any group?â He hoped she wasnât a Reaper, but wondered how he would fair against an outsider. âCrimson Tide is a short walk from here. They, uh, have medics available. I donât know how bad you are -- Iâm not a medic. They could help you.â
Amaraâs green eyes found the man and she jumped slightly, but quickly regained her composure. Realising sheâd fainted and that someone was near her, her instinct was to go for a weapon. But she had to assume, given he didnât have a weapon pointed at her and that she wasnât in any different way than sheâd fainted, though she had obviously been moved, she had to assume that she wasnât in danger from him. He wouldâve had every opportunity to kill her himself or leave her for a walker. She tried to decide how to go about this. âAmara.â She said, though her voice came out scratchy and dry, maybe because of the lack of water or maybe because of the fainting, âUh, Iâm alright. Have you been looking after me?â She asked calmly, trying to make her voice as non-threatening as possible, seeing as she could see he was nervous. âThank you.â
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"Hey,â Elliot spoke up once he noticed Amara was awake. He sat up from the slumped position he was sprawled in, a nervous smile stretching his concerned expression. He didnât know what to do now. The teacher had gone over this situation probably a dozen times while he waited for her to awaken, going over what to say. âHi, Iâm Elliot and I hope youâre not dangerous? Or at least spare me?â He knew it was risky to associate with people outside of camp, but he couldnât walk away once he witnessed her fainting. He stood up and walked closer to her, staying a comfortable distance away from the redhead. They were still a little bit away from the Crimson Tide campgrounds. He hadnât known if it was permissible (or even safe) to escort an unconscious body to the tents, or if she would want to. âIâm, uh, Iâm Elliot. Are you feeling better? Donât stand up.â He was nervous, but tried to play off as nonchalant, the concern dripping in his words.
Amara pulled her heavy head up with a small groan. She couldnât remember going to sleep hereâ in fact, she wouldnât have. This wasnât secure in any way and there was nothing set up to protect her. It hadnât even occurred to Amara until this very moment that should she faint in the apocalypse, everything could end badly. Sheâd barely eaten since the storm, not to mention the changes in weatherâ it made sense medically, but in regards to staying alive, the spinning surroundings did not make her feel in any way safe or secure. She was sure she could defend herself if she needed to, on adrenaline alone, but she suddenly felt much less safe in this world. It was almost as though she had forgotten normal, old bodily problems would still come into play.
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âYeah,â was his only response. She was right. He looked down to observe the heaps of snow still lingering around camp - he would have thought they were gone already, with spring coming around. "Of course - the snow will melt. Eventually. A few more days of potentially slipping and youâll be in the clear. And if you do slip, well...â his voice trailed off, merriment brighting his features. âIf you donât mess up a mission, itâll be a fun story? Injuries are great right now. Common, even; you wonât be the only one slipping.â
â Well I donât think theyâd let a clutz just mosey around on a run. Iâd be the downfall of the entire mission if I were one. â Mallory said, frowning. â Winter was fine actually. I like snow. Even if it is a pain in the ass in situations like the one weâre currently living in. â
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elliot huerta moodboard (task 3)
+ altruistic; pragmatic; sanguine.
- pertinacious; passive ; magnanimous.
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Oh. Elliot froze, his right foot hovering over ground once he heard the snap. He slowly raised his hands up upon seeing the knife, a nervous smile twisting his lips. âHi - sorry.â He stared at the knife and moved his eyes upwards. âIâm not going to, uh, hurt you? Iâm just making my way back - honest.âÂ
Mackâs eyes shift up, searching for the being that created the sound of a twig snapping. She slowly rose, drawing her bowie knife. The red-head turned around and stared straight into the eyes of the producer of the sound. âOh, uh, hello,â Mack muttered backing up a few steps, her eyes wide.
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