henriklarsen - Tumblr blog

[henriklarsen]

cordiiceps​:

“you think i’m lying?” she asks, nonchalant if it wasn’t for her exaggerated way of chewing, mouth not kept shut. distrust doesn’t push any buttons, not when she assumes they have similar stances on who to give the trustworthy title to. henrik is just more open with keeping others at arms length. but from this guarded conversation alone, she corrects that thought. this guy is way more closed off than i expected. isn’t he lonely? she thinks of jesse, of his tall, quiet disposition. they’d either get on really well or never talk.

his question hits her with the force she imagines trains have. suri is silent for a moment in contemplation. why aren’t i? it’s simple really, and she wishes it wasn’t. but still, she offers only half truths. “it was my sister’s idea. she’s dead now.” she doesn’t sound sad as she pushes chunks of vegetables around her bowl, but she no longer forces intense eye contact. “doesn’t feel right to steal her idea now she’s gone, you know?” she licks her spoon clean after another mouthful and her eyes meet his again, unwavering. “you lose people?”

—  🏹  —

“I didn’t say that.” There were plenty of advantages when it came to keeping familiar with the QZ and those who lived in it. He wouldn’t be all that surprised if she had committed the residents to memory, including him. It didn’t matter, anyway. He was at a disadvantage, not familiar with her as much as she seemed him. But in the end - he couldn’t bring himself to care. There wasn’t much she could do with his name and role in the place.

There is a change in her demeanor when he turns the question around. He’s intrigued by it, an elbow resting against the table and fingers finding home beneath his chin. A sentimental reasoning for staying from the place she called better.

“You don’t think your sister would want you somewhere ‘better’?” He remarked curiously. At her follow up question, direct and to the point, he doesn’t shift his gaze from hers. “We all lose people.”

[henriklarsen]

evarhie​:

30th june. the mall. with @henriklarsen​

the rifle in her hand doesn’t do great work in close range like this, but eva makes do anyways. she points, aims -- shoots. the bullet lands messily, blows through the flesh of the shoulder where it would come to rot. she cocks it again, jaw working as she continues to move closer step by step. there's a blur of a body pushing past her, she falters, straightens, and -- fires. this time, the bullet takes the side of the face and the mangling of the fungus that has started to grow on it.

her arms have just started to lower, the distant screaming zoning back into her focus as she makes to step closer some more. she doesn't get far though, a body slamming into her and taking her down. her side meets the ground hard, the weapon clattering off to her side as dirtied hands claw at her, garbled screaming in her face. blood pounds in her chest and the screaming narrows to a silent, a sharp keening whistle in her ear as eva, by sheer instinct, reaches for the blade strapped to her waist and stabs. she doesn't aim -- it's not strategic, how she moves, a loud exclamation of her own pushing past her lips as she pushes the blade in and out, in and out, in and out. the body drops, and she pushes it off her.

the ceiling is spinning above her, the keening in her ear pounds into something quieter as she exhales in what feels like slow motion and pushes herself up; the world spinning back into sharp focus, real time.

gaze seeking where she'd seen henrik last, seen the runner's body drop last -- eva spots him, sitting up just a few paces from her. eva moves, makes to get up. she needs to find cover, they need to find cover ( they, all that are not runners, here ).

she's pushing onto her knees, a hand flat on the floor to support her weight as she pushes up and makes to move in his direction. it's only for a split moment that her gaze flits up behind him, beyond him. it happens fast, other hand still gripping the bloodied blade tight. "duck!" she screams, doesn't wait to see if he listens, and launches her arm back to fling the blade in a precise, practiced throw. it flies, buries deep into the runner's chest. she's on it -- him? -- before he can recover, wrenching the blade free before pulling her hand back and burying it to the hilt into the soft give of the neck's flesh.

when the body stills, eva lets her weight drop back onto her heels, taking just the moment to catch her breath. she turns, eyes landing on henrik as he sits next to her. "you alright?" a pause, she reaches back to pull out the blade from the body, wiping it blindly on the fabric of her pants. "--we need to move."

—  🏹  —

This was the exact reason communities like Idaho Falls weren’t ever meant to last. The quarters were too close, confined, tight - and within those borders infection spread like wildfire. It only took one spark.

The faces of friend and foe blend as runners overtake the patrol. He’s lucky, maybe, to have a gun in his hands with which to fend off the on coming horde of them. But the numbers are confused between those fleeing the chaos and bringing it. Already the zone has such few numbers compared to what the world once boasted, fewer casualties the better - but Henrik isn’t overtly choosy. Stopping the spread was key to surviving this night, after all.

He doesn’t see it when one comes crashing through from the side, knocking the gun from his hand and dragging him down to the ground with an inhumane scream of sorts. He manages to get one hand pressed up against it’s chest (easier, that way, to think of them as others and not people who had been living alongside them only hours before) to keep the biting teeth away. It takes time, too much time, to get the proper leverage on the creature, to twist the bones in the neck in such a way as to cut off any semblance of life that might be left. By the time he’s disposed of one there are so many more still coming, and he’s at a disadvantage being off his feet.

Grabbing for the gun once more he gets a couple shots off before it clicks, useless without bullets in the chamber. Another he wrestles away from before producing a knife to dispose of it fully. When Eva’s voice calls out over the mayhem, duck!, there is no reason not to follow the command, sliding further to the floor just as a blade skates through the air where he’d been a second prior. The thunk as it finds home is too close, hungry teeth that had been aiming for flesh, his, still near as he rolls out of the way and she finishes the job. 

He watches her for just a moment, caught off guard that she’d thrown herself in the midst of it to save his ass, before rolling back over to push himself up from the floor. “Yeah - fine.” He was getting too fucking old for this shit.

Wiping blood from his hands and cleaning the blade of his knife, he takes inventory of their surroundings. There are bodies scattered in their wake. Given the screams echoing down the hallways, those numbers may only be moments away from increasing. “That way,” he gestures in the direction opposite of where the noise seems to be coming from, though their echoing surroundings could distort. Starting off in the direction he’d indicated without much further preamble he only pauses a moment to look back in her direction. “You good?”

[henriklarsen]

cordiiceps​:

“mm, i’m just good at names and faces,” she hums, still chewing. she’d been taught basic manners a long time ago, but they’ve long become redundant. manners don’t ensure you live to see tomorrow.

she thinks this is possibly a futile attempt to be trying to bleed a rock. but isn’t it always the quiet ones who are most dangerous? sure, in the case of yen’s unpredictability, it makes them a formidable foe. but violence is always expected from them. violence is expected from the likes of herself. but the quiet ones are the people that you least expect to wield the knife, the last person anyone would think to stab you in the back.

“sure it is. out there you’re free at least. no freedom here anymore,” she muses, shovelling another spoonful into her mouth. she doesn’t bother to finish chewing before she speaks again. “and like, if you aren’t that new, surely you know there are better places round here to live out your days. you know, like that down east, over the border in wyoming.” finally, she swallows her mouthful. “jackson? surely you know it? so why stay here? i’ve thought about it.” it’s a half lie. it was never her who suggested slipping away from the grizzly camp in the dead of night to find a kinder home. it was farah. “been there once or twice. decent sized place.”

—  🏹  —

“Sure you are.” Henrik isn’t phased by this new face taking a seat at his table. It’s not hard to guess why she’s there, making supposedly idle conversation. People were turning on one another left and right since that enforcer was found dead with not so infected-inflicted injuries. Why anyone would think he had anything to do with it was beyond him, but certainly it would be entertaining for a moment or two.

To her question, though, he didn’t have the best of answers - not that it was any of her business. There was something to appreciate about having a meal promised, even if it seemed to continually dwindle. Something about having a bed at the end of the night. It might not be everything it could be, but in this world nothing ever was.

“That so?” His head bobbed in a nod. “Sounds like a great place. Why aren’t you there?”

[henriklarsen]

cordiiceps​:

—  grand teton mall,  14th july 2044,  with henrik larsen.  @henriklarsen​

she is no schemer. this cold war is not a place where she could ever thrive. but there’s a price on all their heads, especially those new to the zone, and she’s certain her few months of residency paint her in a suspicious light. it’s her or someone else, and she refuses to go down for something she had no hand in. handing in a confession is an act of survival, even if the thought of pandering to a tyrant makes her skin crawl.

she drops her lunch haphazardly in the seat in front of henrik without greeting. he’s quiet, he’s new, and she knows nothing about him or where he came from. much like the man hanged outside the mall. she’s no stranger to gruesome deaths, but the body still swaying from the lamppost knaws away at her conscience. before she speaks, she scans exposed skin for any sign of the mark the purged leave on their followers. a mark she’s seen on yennefer. the thought of them makes her miss home.

“henrik, right?” she asks as he picks up her bent spoon, absently stirring the stew in front of her. “you’re new, ain't’cha? how come you ended up here? must be regretting it with all of this shit.” 

—  🏹  —

Walls were simply an illusion of peace. Nothing was ever permanent, not in this world. Fortunately, Rik had long since accepted this as truth. He hadn’t allowed himself to get too comfortable in Idaho Falls or too close with any one person within. It had always been easier on his own and here was no different.

The zone had it’s perks, of course, but they were getting fewer and fewer in number with each passing day.

Henrik’s eyes lift from the bowl before him when another is planted across from him, studying the young woman that slumps into the seat a moment later. He’s seen her around, he thinks, but no name comes to mind - and frankly, he doesn’t much care to know it anyway. It doesn’t matter.

She knows who he is. He’s not surprised, really; he’s been here a few months now, more known than unknown. And yet... “Clearly not that new.”

He watches her a moment, hands lifting to fold together beneath his chin as his elbows rest upon the tabletop. The questions were loaded, no matter what way you sliced it. Even someone who cared very little for the politics of Idaho Falls could feel the tension in the air, the accusations thrown in every glance. Hundreds dead and yet the focus had somehow come down to one. “Not so different than out there, is it?”

[henriklarsen]

Carol Ann Duffy, from The World’s Wife; “Medusa”

[Text ID: “And here you come / with a shield for a heart / and a sword for a tongue”]

[henriklarsen]

kinderdays​:

her softness isn’t met with much in return, but this is something she’s used to.  not everyone dragged into the infirmary came on their own terms and they didn’t always want the help she was trying to provide.  years of working under her stern and outspoken mother have slightly prepared her for interactions like these, even if her nature is still much more gentle.  

“why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” she says as more of a demand than a request and finally steps closer to him.  “have a seat please, i know the ground isn’t preferable but i imagine you’ve withstood worse,” opie instructs as she sets her bag down and kneels on the mall’s floor.  she’s always had a bit of admiration for those who came from the outside.  she’s fearful of the world beyond the zone’s walls.  perhaps it’s max and his stories of the outside that cause her to look at those who’ve survived its challenges with a sense of respect.  

“are you headed home or on your way to a shift?” she asks.  she remembers clearly the days when maxym left the hotel room limping, forced to go on patrol despite how tired and ragged he was.  she sees the same pain in this other soldiers.  it kills her a bit each time.

—  🏹  —

She doesn’t seem like the type to regularly make demands, but her tone makes it sound as if she won’t be taking no for an answer. He has half a mind to just keep walking, shrug her off. But then she’s kneeling herself and he notices the roundness of her belly. It’s a clear indication that she’s...pregnant?

It’s something that he can hardly make sense of given the world they live in. Sure, the QZ has a few more children running around than he’d seen on the outside in...well, he wasn’t sure how long now. But to think of raising a newborn in this? This was no place for a child. As far as he was concerned, nowhere was safe for a child anymore.

He studies her a moment longer before complying begrudgingly to her demands. He slides down to the floor, stretching the legs out before him and leaning his back up against the wall.

“There’s another patrol in a couple hours. I’m sure I’ll be expected on it.”

[henriklarsen]

cordiiceps​:

he brings his flask up to his lips as he’s done countless times before, an action burned into muscle memory, and watches the fighting from the sidelines. nik’s not used to this position, more familiar with the space inside the ring, more at home when there’s someone in front of him that wants to hurt him. it’s easier to be who everyone expects him to be, a messenger of violence, but promises have been made, and that ring will never feel the weight of him again.

“what makes you think i wouldn’t?” it’s curiosity, not pride, but nik doesn’t make en effort to show it. “but no, i’m not getting in the ring,” this time, he almost says, but he’s quick to remind himself of gil’s rage, of the stories from wyoming of a place like this with far more at stake. he swallows down his guilt, because despite the pain of a loved one, the desire to fight remains.

“what about you, don’t fancy extra rations?”

—  🏹  —

Rik’s brow lifts as if the answer to the question were obvious, but doesn’t give voice to it beyond a shake of his head and lift of his shoulders. He had not taken much time, thus far, to get to know the dynamics between the Volkov siblings. But if this fight club was something hidden beneath the nose of Alexei, it seemed rather strange to find his only brother taking part. All things considered.

“First I’ve heard of it,” Rik hums, surveying the setup of the upcoming fight with a curious eye. “So no, I don’t think so tonight. Just figured I’d get the lay of the land. I take it you’ve been to one of these before, then?”

[henriklarsen]

☕️ 🍀 🌞

☕️ HOT BEVERAGE - do they prefer hot or cold drinks? what is their favourite drink?

If he had to choose between the two, more often than not he'll go for a hot drink, though his preference isn't very strong. There is certainly something comforting in cupping hands around a warm mug, and something practical about choosing a hot drink in cold weather. Cold drinks are a luxury of their own in many ways, too. Perhaps it is simply because it was always easier to warm something over the fire than produce ice to keep something cold that is the draw, in the end.

🍀 CLOVER - do they believe in luck? are they lucky?

There is something to be said for surviving this long; for escaping the gnashing teeth of infected time and again, for managing to keep on living day in and day out. But no, Henrik doesn't believe it's due to luck, per se. It's the time he spent learning how to survive in this shit hole of world that he attributes to lasting this long. It's skill, perseverance, and will, not luck, that gets him through it all. Though maybe there is a little something that has given him that extra boost through some tricky situations or landed him in the right place at the right time to still be standing here today, against the odds.

☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

Henrik is most definitely a morning person. He's learned to operate on the schedule of the sun, rising as it does in the early morning and starting off the day as anyone should - with breakfast. Granted, breakfast has come in many different forms over the years depending on what he has on hand, but one way or another the morning starts off with some kind of food to get him started.

[henriklarsen]

𝐎𝐂 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒!

feel free to tweak questions + all emojis r listed in text form bc i can't see some of them aAAaaAA! sorry if any of these questions are too similar i tried to avoid that but .. there's a lot lol! categorized by emoji type.

i wanted to make one because i could not find one on tumblr already that had a ton of questions. this was created by combining ones under the #oc ask game tag + my own contributions. hi charmymemes nation i'm back.

people

👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)?

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

👊 PUNCH - are they quick to violence?

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into "flight" or "fight"?

💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?

food & drinks

🥞 PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast?

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

🍩 DONUT - favourite sweet treat?

🍟 FRIES - do they order food often? or they prefer to cook their own food?

☕️ HOT BEVERAGE - do they prefer hot or cold drinks? what is their favourite drink?

🍓 STRAWBERRY - do they eat their fruit & veg? what is their favourite fruit or vegetable?

🍰 CAKE SLICE - favourite cake flavour? are they specific about types of cakes?

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

plants & nature

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

🌋 VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

🌺 HIBISCUS - do they have any allergies?

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

🍃 FALLING LEAF - do they enjoy being in nature? what is their favourite outdoor activity?

☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

🌹 ROSE - do they like valentines day? have they been confessed to before? have they confessed to anyone before?

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

🙊 SPEAK-NO-EVIL - what is something your oc will refuse to stay quiet about?

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

🍀 CLOVER - do they believe in luck? are they lucky?

🌏 EARTH - will they give up the world for someone they love? is this decision easy for them?

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

activity

⚾ BASEBALL - can they play sports? what is their best position if they play a team sport? what's their strong suit (speed, power etc.)?

🏊 SWIMMING - can they swim? or are they afraid of water? how well do they swim? how do they feel about swimming in the ocean?

objects

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

📖 OPEN BOOK - do they like reading? what's their favourite genre?

🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

📸 CAMERA - do they enjoy having their picture taken? what's their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?

🎭 MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what's different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?

✂️ SCISSORS - what is the "last straw" for them to cut someone out of their life? how easily do they let go of people?

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

💎 DIAMOND - how rich are they? can they live the lifestyle they want to?

🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?

🍼 BABY BOTTLE - what are their thoughts on children?

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?

🎤 MICROPHONE - are they good at singing? what is their go-to karaoke song?

🎷 SAXOPHONE - do they play any instruments? are they any good at it?

📚 BOOKS - how were they at school? what is their best subject? what is their worst subject? do they have a favourite subject?

👖 JEANS - what is their go-to outfit?

🎨 PALETTE - can they draw? what do they like to draw?

🎡 FERRIS WHEEL - are they someone who wants to kiss at the top of the ferris wheel?

⏳ HOURGLASS - are they usually late or on-time?

🔫 PISTOL - do they trust people easily? how easily will they turn their back to someone? have they been backstabbed before? will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

🎀 RIBBON - how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into?

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

📦 PACKAGE - what are some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

🖍️ CRAYON - what advice would you give to them?

⚙️ GEAR - what are your ocs thoughts on science & art? which do they give more importance to? how much value do they place on each?

🔧 WRENCH - are they good at fixing relationships? or do they tend to avoid doing so?

❇️ SPARKLE - what is their most prized possession? what do they value?

📏 RULER - is your oc well educated? where did they get their learning from?

transport

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

🚲 BICYCLE - can they ride a bike? what do they remember from learning to ride a bicycle?

weather

🌩️ LIGHTNING - are they scared of lightning?

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

❄️ SNOWFLAKE - do people consider them cold? if so, what made them this way?

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with?

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

hearts

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticable? what changes when they're in love?

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn't around?

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?

[henriklarsen]

sommersanso​:

anso lifts the other side of the crate, feet falling into step swiftly as they lift the box and get to moving it up across the room and towards the stairway. the frayed edges of the wood bite at his fingers, and he readjusts his grips. “so…a hoarding problem.” he reiterates at henrik’s reply, monotone. as far as anso is concerned, if all this was unimportant enough to be left off base all this time, it was unnecessary enough to be left for the storm to take. it isn’t matter enough to need him getting involved again, though. one of these so called soldiers might just faint from another stand-off, anso thinks.

they approach the stairs, and anso turns, slotting themselves parallel to the walls as they begin their ascent up to the next floor. henrik speaks again – ain’t he a lot more talk than he let on? – and anso cocks his head. “neither is going up to the floors with windows where the debris can break through.” he counters. a beat, and he moves to lift a shoulder as best as he can in a shrug. “there’s no good alternative.” when they break the landing of the other floor and deposit the crate, he dusts his hands of it, moving towards the stairwell again. “but there doesn’t have to be.”

“we’re fine here – with a bit of water lappin’ at our feet, or up in striking territory or whatever the fuck.” he says. “just gotta wait the storm out.” he continues, light steps taking him down the stairs again. “unless that fucker you all so valiantly saved was actually infected.” turning to throw a grin over his shoulder, he jerks his chin up. “and then we’re in for a show.”

—  🏹  —

There doesn’t seem to be any means of swaying Anso’s opinions and, frankly, Henrik doesn’t much care to. Perhaps some of what was deposited here was useless, hoarded nonsense. Or maybe it was the very answer they needed to make it out of this mess. Either way, trying to secure it while they still could seemed like common sense to Henrik. “Maybe,” is the only response he voices.

He considers Anso’s perspective on their situation as they carry the load. Windows they could block off or stay clear of. There was no reason to raise concern over something that very well may not prove to be a problem. It was the water that was rapidly rising, seeping in through unseen crevasses and overtaking the lower floor of the museum, that they should be most concerned with at this point. There is no good choice. But there is certainly a better of the two they were faced with.

Avoiding long term exposure to the water that would leech heat from their bodies, that was the logical answer here. But he also couldn’t care much less what decision the other soldier made. If he wanted to risk illness and death to play in the rising waters then so be it. He wasn’t about to play babysitter to all the other’s foolish decision making.

Henrik is only operating on logical decision making - at least, that’s what he believes. Logically, saving the supplies that have been stored here for some reason makes sense. They’d already lost the generator due to the storms rage, they couldn’t afford to lose any other key supply if it could be avoided. Logically, keeping dry and warm was key in surviving a storm like this, particularly when they had no idea how much longer they’d be stuck here for. Sure, waiting it out in a few inches, and rising, of water was no big deal if it was only for the night. But as time ticked forward and the water level continued to rise, it was only a greater threat.

Logically, Grant hadn’t encountered an infected without any of the rest of them knowing about it, not in the middle of all this chaos. Not when the injury in question was little more than a scratch. But Anso seemed keen to harp on the decision that had been made; either because he’d been overruled or because he still believed he was in the right. “Don’t worry about him,” Henrik spoke simply. “He’s not going to be a problem.”

[henriklarsen]

teddyquijadas​:

Desperate not to give Alexei Volkov any additional leverage over him and his newly reunited family, Teddy and Mara decide to be as discreet as they can about their connection to each other — if that’s even possible anymore. Felix has Mara’s last name, and considering he and Teddy arrived in Idaho Falls as a packaged deal, interrogated upon entry together, it’d be naive to say that Alexei didn’t already know all about them. But now, when their son is trapped inside a water treatment plant during a torrential fucking storm, any remaining semblance of caution goes out the window. There’s no way either he or Mara will sit idly by and let the cruel world tear apart their family again.

In an unlikely twist of lucky fate, they are assigned to the rescue mission together. There’s an obvious thought that echoes in everyone’s mind as the trucks are sent out towards the plant: the only reason there’s a rescue trip sent out at all is because of the Volkova that’s trapped there. Teddy adds this fact to yet another item to his mental list of reasons they need to get the hell out of Idaho Falls while they’re still all in one piece. This time, their family reunion is controlled — relief floods them as quickly as the stormwaters, but they can’t afford to lose the time it takes to cling to each other now. When he catches Henrik’s eyes in the aftermath, Teddy knows he must allow himself to be torn away.

“Nah, let’s go. Mara can handle him on her own,” he says gruffly, choosing not to look back at her and Felix as he walks towards his regular patrol partner. He’s come to almost trust Henrik in a way, at least enough to know he’ll cover his back if they get swarmed by runners out of nowhere. “I’m sure there will be plenty of damage to report,” Teddy starts, “whether or not Alexei wants to fix it is anyone’s guess.” Since dissent is on everyone’s mind today, he does little to hide his disdain for their self-appointed ruler.

They push through the cleared rubble and back outside again, where humid post-storm air greets them. Even without investigating much further, it’s clear enough that the infrastructure of the water treatment plant has taken a hit. Noticing how much debris has beaten it’s way into the water reserve system, Teddy says, “looks like we’ll be double-boiling our drinking water again.” Which is the only way to do it when you’re a nomad, but there’s no denying Teddy will miss the luxury of access to instantly safe water.

—  🏹  —

Henrik’s eyes shift between Teddy as he approaches and the two he is stepping away from. It’s strange, the concept of ‘family’ these days. He’d had it once, of course. Twice, if he really let himself think about it. But he didn’t - it was easier that way. Easier to not think about it. Easier to operate in the here and now rather than the past, the could have been, the once was.

Beyond that, he’s surprised by the man’s candor. He’d sensed it here and there, words going unsaid behind locked lips. There was a tension in Idaho Falls between the people simply looking to survive and their ‘leader’. It was dangerous, speaking such things out loud. Dissent seemed to get people killed around here. Yet coming from someone as put together as Teddy always seemed to be, it was amusing. “True,” he hums in agreement, a hint of a smile upturning the corner of his lips, “that is yet to be seen.”

It was easier, in so many ways, to not deal with such things - wonder if their almighty leader was going to come save them, or help clean up the mess, or make a difference. When you were on your own in all this none of those questions were even considered. It was always up to you, one way or the other.

There was only so far that strategy took you when there was someone else standing in the way.

“Could be worse,” he murmured as they stepped through the debris, studying the damage left behind. It wouldn’t take too much to get the place back up in fully functioning order - but would it be prioritized? Should it be? He didn’t know how much damage there was to the rest of the QZ at this point, either. “Let’s just keep an eye out for infected. Assess and clear.”

[henriklarsen]

kinderdays​:

ophelia usually works all her shifts at the hotel, it’s an easy commute from her room.  perhaps someone somewhere takes pity on her swollen ankles.  however, since the storm wreaked havoc on the hotel’s infrastructure, she’s been working mostly at the mall.  the big old building has largely remained untouched.  it means a longer trek, but she is thankful to have a safe and dry place to care for patients.  the work keeps her busy and thus a bit distracted.  but she’s been a bit better in recent days.  the night of the storm left her panicked and ragged.  she’s still a bit shaken, but calmer.  she has her mother to thank for that, but she’d be lying if she said a few others haven’t helped as well.

she is finishing up a long day in the infirmary.  the storm has left a lot of destruction in its wake, not just among their buildings but among their people as well.  it’s tiring, and mentally draining to see such devastation first hand.  as much as she loves her work, she is grateful to be headed back home.  she’s looking forward to putting her feet up.  pregnancy, she’s found, has made her tire faster.  she’s trying not to beat herself up about it- thinks of her breaks as caring for her child more than it is for her.

as she walks down the mall’s corridor she notices a man a few steps ahead of her.  his gait is off, she can detect the small limp.  ophelia can’t help but stare- she doesn’t even notice she’s doing it at first.  perhaps it’s her nature to spot an injury and try to figure out how she can help.  so it catches her off guard when he eventually stops and looks right at her.  he seems annoyed to have caught her gaze and her first instinct is to back up and apologize.  but she doesn’t, not yet.  she recognizes him- rik she thinks is his name.  he’s newer to the zone but she remembers his face.  he was in the infirmary after his arrival- it was around the time max died.  that’s a month she’ll never forget.

“i just noticed you’re limping,” she says honestly.  “is it your foot or your ankle?”  opie doesn’t step towards him just yet, she’s cautious.  “i’m a medic,” she explains, not sure if he’ll remember her.  she slides her bag off her shoulder.  “i can take a look at it for you.”

—  🏹  —

“Observant of you,” Henrik mumbles, more to himself than Ophelia, really. The hitch in his step hadn’t been something he’d been attempting to hide by any means, after all - so he couldn’t be surprised that one might take note. Granted, he hadn’t thought anyone would take any special notice, either. But when he finally gets a look at who it is that had been following him with her gaze, he remembers her. A face from early on, when he’d first stumbled into the zone. A medic, of course she was. She’d stood alongside Mara those months ago.

“It’s...fine. Just twisted it wrong cleaning shit up.” It needed time, probably - he doubted there was much more a medic could really do for it. But then again, he was no medic; all he’d ever really been able to give such types of injuries was time, and usually it went away. Eventually. Hopefully.

Besides, it wasn’t as if they really had much benefit of time. Whether he wanted to or not, he wasn’t going to be able to settle down somewhere and prop his feet up any time soon. Perhaps if he wasn’t making a living in this zone he’d be able to do so, if he were lucky. But when was luck last on his side?

“There’s nothing much to look at.”

[henriklarsen]

evarhie​:

31st may. patrol along the west border. with @henriklarsen​​​​

it’s rare that eva craves the warmth of her bed over the battering of routine, but she supposes there was a first time for everything. patrols were as routine as it got around the zone, yet eva found herself still carrying the exhaustion that had been hard to shake from her body when she’d awoken in the early hours to report for this shift. the storm had taken a physical toll on them all and she was no different. her body still felt weary, limbs stiff from a rough few days. add on top of it the itch under her skin, the way she felt ill-fitted around her own bones after having one too many ghosts walk back into her life – perhaps it was understandable why she missed the quiet seclusion of her room.

the file line the patrol party had fallen into staggers and splits as the path ahead of them does. there’s an enforcer barking orders for them to pair up. eva doesn’t bother affirming, but turns and follows the path to her right, shuffling into line after the other soldier up ahead of her. she recognizes the stature of the man, though she doesn’t acknowledge him until they’re a few paces down the path.

“rik.” eva says in lieu of greeting, a nod to accompany the words. “–never did get around to those bow and arrow lessons, did we.” lessons was probably too strong of a word for the loose deal they’d struck, but eva still intends on cashing in on that at some point. 

“good to see you’re still in one piece.” she says, words genial but no lighter in meaning. “–how you holdin’ up?”

—  🏹  —

The storm had blown through Idaho Falls over a week ago now and yet the damage left in its wake was still evident in every direction. It felt like an endless effort, cleaning up and restoring the zone to what it once had been, being sure the damage done wasn’t anything that would leave them vulnerable.

It was all work that needed to be done, there was no doubt about that, but the zone was vast and there were only so many of them capable of doing the work. Cleaning up the zone on top of everything else they were expected to keep on top of - sweeping the zone for infected or intruders, keeping eyes out for anything and everything that could be a threat. The list, it seemed, was endless these days.

Henrik wasn’t about to admit it, but it was all starting to wear on him more than he would like. He’s tired and sore. But what other choice is there?

He moves ahead without much mind paid towards the enforcer barking orders at them, fingers pulling at the string of his bow faithfully looped around his shoulder. He barely even looks in Eva’s direction as she approaches his side. “I suppose not. Haven’t had all that much time for training as of late.” Not when they were both running about on rescue missions and tasked regularly with clean up patrols.

His eyes pass her over, giving a bit of a nod in return to her statement. “You too.” He considers her question, weighs the truth and lies of it all that could serve as an answer. Settles somewhere in the middle. “As good as can be expected, I guess. Getting a little sick of throwing debris around.”

[henriklarsen]

nelefinn​:

      Nele hated being corrected, in any form. She had little patience for it, and was hardly known for having patience in general when it came to people. When it came to machines? To building structures? Her focus was unparalleled, patience in abundance. Henrik was warranted more than others — if only because of their past — but given the storm, it had already been shortened. “I’ll give you permission to stay behind and clean up if you’re hellbent on it, but I’m not gonna hand over the extra hands yet.” Daiyu was supposed to be inside — the other enforcer on the grounds — and perhaps she would disagree with Nele’s plan of action. If so, she could stay as well, or they could radio her gracious father to see what he’d prefer. Either way, Nele was the one on deck, and this was the way she wanted things done. They’d return with more hands, more weapons, when they could make sure they weren’t outnumbered… again. Last time she was here, they’d returned with a list of casualties. For all they knew, the storm had opened up other points of entry for the fucking things. Their people were, ultimately, the priority; as was the mall and the hotel.

          Annoyance rose up in Nele, heating her entire body as she pivoted her body to get a look at Henrik, one hand pressed against the structure to keep her balanced. “Yeah. It is. But we don’t need to work on the plant, we need to work on the rest of the base. This’ll take less time with more hands, and we can do it later.” He had a point; they would need to do it, the plant was a vital point. But so were their numbers. “And hey, you can come back out with me and help me board up the window.” She flashed a sardonic smile, “As your enforcer…” Without continuing, Nele extended an expectant hand. 

—  🏹  —

Henrik snorts at Nele’s words, head shaking the slightest bit as he surveys the work that would be ahead. Given her tone, he wouldn’t be surprised if his name ended up at the top of the list for cleanup crew now. I’ll give you permission... He was finding this whole ‘enforcer’ hierarchy of Idaho Falls to be a constant irritant that just kept on resurfacing. He never would’ve pegged Nele to take up such a position, Alexei’s good little solider.

He studies her a moment as she uses the rank against him, debating whether or not it was worth it to push the subject. Ultimately, he didn’t give a shit about the water treatment plant. It would be Idaho Falls problem down the road. If he were fortunate, he wouldn’t still be here by then, anyway. But there was a better way of going about this...

“Yes ma’am,” he finally murmurs, turning away from her and the plant to retreat to the truck and sift through the supplies stored in the trunk. He returns with a hammer and a length of rope, holding the tool out to her by the head so that she can take hold of the handle. “Think this will do the trick, boss?”

[henriklarsen]

Who: closed ! @cordiiceps​ When: May 29th Where: The Alibi Bar

There had been whispers over the last week or so about some upcoming event in the bar. Henrik hadn’t paid much mind to it, there was always gossip that went around in groups like this that turned out to be nothing. But the Alibi seemed rather crowded comparative to how Henrik had ever seen it in the past.

Fight Night. Survivors pitting themselves against one another for - what? Entertainment? A release of frustration? Henrik was on the face about the whole concept. He couldn’t help but see how desperately foolish it was to weaken their own people for no real reason. There was enough in this damn world fighting against them, why add insult to injury? But at the same time...the adrenaline that pumped through the building, the relief that was probably associated with the feel of a fist finding its target. There was something attractive to it, too.

Finding a Volkov amongst the spectators though? That was certainly unexpected.

“Now, I can’t imagine you’re about to get in that ring, are you?”

[henriklarsen]

Who: closed ! @kinderdays​​ When: May 26th Where: Grand Teton Mall

This storm was proving to be much more of a pain in the ass than Henrik could ever have anticipated. Perhaps because he’d never really had a place that he called his own, not for years anyway, and never would’ve previously spent much time cleaning up after such an event. It wasn’t like a little debris was going to make that much of a difference in their already desolate world. If anything, it added some character. But Henrik’s opinion on the whole ordeal was essentially irrelevant. He was but a lowly foot soldier for Idaho Falls, tasked with getting the zone back into proper working order once again. If it ever was.

Plus, he wasn’t as young as he used to be. Lugging all of that cargo in the museum to make sure they didn’t lose any further supplies than they already had, clearing away the blockage in front of the water treatment plant entryway to rescue the trapped patrol - it was taking it’s toll, as much as he’d rather pretend otherwise. It had been days since and the work hadn’t stopped; His shoulders, particularly the one that he couldn’t seem to leave alone and heal properly, ached. But beyond that, his damn ankle had been giving him a hard time as of late. He was pretty sure he’d caught his foot in something, twisted funny when he went to pull something free, and since then it was refusing to bear weight properly. As if it had any choice in the matter.

He’d been wandering a bit aimlessly through the mall, observing all the shuttered shops that had once been the place to be as a teenager, bright signs and flashing lights long since faded and dead. Henrik could only guess the gates hadn’t held back those desperate for supplies that once had sat beyond. The over turned displays were all that really remained anymore. He came to a stop outside of one of those very stores, leaning against the wall a minute to adjust his boot, take the weight off his foot, and roll his ankle a bit in an attempt to alleviate the annoying ache that wouldn’t go away.

“Can I help you with something?” He murmured after a moment, tone already bordering on sarcastic, as his eyes finally lifting to meet the ones that he’d felt on him for the last stretch of storefronts and still continued to linger.

[henriklarsen]

Who: closed ! @teddyquijadas​ When: May 23rd Where: Water treatment plant

Finding their way to the water treatment plant and discovering that it was little more than a blocked door that kept the ‘lost’ patrol was, all things considered, a rather positive outcome. Rik had gotten rather used to things not ending up that way. Death and loss was too familiar a feeling. But everyone was accounted for...plus one more.

It wasn’t Henrik’s place to decide who stayed and who didn’t; he could hardly care much less about any of the people who climbed out of the darkened corridors into the evening sunlight. He didn’t know any of them, not really; Daiyu Volkova, daughter of Alexei and hard headed enforcer. Victoria Holtz, daughter of Nikolai Volkov. Suri Farook, someone Henrik knew next to nothing about. And Felix Sinclair, the boy that Mara and Teddy were currently worrying over.

Would any of these faces have been prioritized for rescue if Daiyu hadn’t been among them? If he’d been stuck in there instead of the precious daughter enforcer? He couldn’t decide one way or the other - and did it matter, anyway? Would they have been able to free themselves without intervention, or died in those darkened halls?

Henrik’s pensive, leaning against the tailgate of one of the trucks as familiar faces reunite with one anther. Nele with Daiyu, Victoria. Eva with Suri. A neat little picture. As Teddy breaks away from his own little family reunion and heads in his direction, Rik looks up and give him a brief nod of acknowledgement.

“You want to take a look around?” It couldn’t hurt. Certainly in the hours they’d been trapped the patrollers had investigated whatever they could from the inside, but who knew what other damage might be unseen on the outside? “You’re more than welcome to stay with the kid.”