lovxrslane

[lovxrslane]

The interactions Lane's had with the caretaker over the year and a half they've been employed did little to prepare them for the state she was currently in. There had been glimpses, enough to hint at the person under the hardened exterior that Mal often presented herself with; but this was a side of them that felt uncomfortably vulnerable. Lane began to wonder how useful this version of Mal could be to them. The idea that this was a mistake flashed through their mind but it was quickly pushed away. Lane could not. do. this. alone.

"Someone killed him Mal." Lane forced a shaky calm upon herself, trying to at least feign composure. She huffed out a breath and tried to order her thoughts before speaking them because they very much felt like they were speaking to a child right now. "He didn't just fall." There was aggression in Lane's tone that insisted Mal understood how painfully obvious this all was. "So what? He threw himself out of the window because he was sad? Are you kidding me?"

Yeah he lost his family and yeah people had been pointing fingers at him for every single thing that's gone wrong since the city shut down--but they're supposed to buy that was enough to drive Tobias Wexley to kill himself? Fat fuckin chance, love.

Lane didn't know who was involved or what exactly had happened to lead Tobias to his colorful end but it wouldn't take more than a few moments of consideration to come up with a probable suspect. "How much longer did you really think Sada was going to sit this mess out? She's a power hungry bitch who's been unhappy living here since she moved in." Lane was growing exasperated and her words only continued to spill out in a messy attempt at convincing Mal to see the writing on the wall. "She probably wanted him dead before all of this because she wanted to rename the building after herself!" Or some other petty bullshit! Lane didn't know, but the point sure fucking stood!

Their hands rose in frustration, coming to clasp behind their head if only to prevent Lane from doing something stupid. "She's not going to stop with just him. It'll probably be Ember next--maybe you even." Lane didn't say it as a threat. It was a genuine concern, a very real possibility in their mind.

There is nothing left of Mal's self-control, nothing left of her stoicism with which she faces the world head on day by day. Everything she is is ripped to tatters, and even as there's the registration of another person in the room with her, the viscerality of her emotions—feeling like she has to claw them out of her very body just to find a space in her mind that's safe from them—does not allow her to suck it all back in. It's out and it won't be put back in by her hand.

But it's not her hand. A palm connects with their cheek hard enough to hurt harder than the giant emotions tearing through them. Their face snaps to the side from the impact, the connection leaving a sharp, nasty tingling, but it's just enough to ground them back into reality, instead of floating and drowning and dying in a sea of overwhelming emotion. The slap across their face is the safe space that they could anchor themself into.

Through puffy eyes marred by tears and overwhelming grief, Mal looks to her assaulter, her reality checker, her saviour. "Lane," they breathe out, voice still small and croaked, none of the calm, collected strength they usually spoke with. Just a young girl alone in her room, clinging to the toy car her foster father gave her.

It takes her a moment or two to understand the implications of Lane's words. Mal hadn't even thought about what had happened. She hadn't stuck around long enough to hear 'suicide', or 'accident', or even what had happened before her eyes connected with Tobias' lifeless ones. What the fuck does it even matter how he— Died. Say it. Say the word. Died. Dead. Deceased. No longer there to annoy you. No longer there to grin at the irritated glances you'd give him. No longer there to hug you when you were too stressed but didn't know it. No longer there.

"What?" they ask, voice laced in confusion over the words directed to them. "What are you saying?"

[lovxrslane]

for as much as lane liked to infiltrate people's private lives through their belongings, she didn't care much to actually hear about them. sneaking through someone's bag or office felt like a one-way glimpse into their lives. you could keep yourself at a distance. but hearing about them required engagement, expression, comment. you had to be an active participant.

lane nodded slightly when ember announced hugs had indeed been safe and left in her care. that was good for her. something living that required her attention and would return it tenfold. ember deserved as much right now, even if it had to come from a cat instead of a person. "hugs sounds like a darling."

"a girl?" lane began to ask. but ember's words spilled out so quickly that lane wasn't prepared for the question she ended on and it felt spat against their face, leaving them stunned for a beat too long to be convincing. "--em," lane couldn't help the way their voice filled that single syllable with palpable sympathy. they leaned forward so their back was no longer against the cool wall but paused short of moving any closer. she couldn't drag this out. ember didn't deserve that. "a few hours after everything went wrong i ran into dalton and your mother. we were all hurt but i thought it wasn't that bad."

" i thought we would make it back home."

"Do we ever. That's not even the half of it. I'm sure if you talked to the new girl in the diner, you'd get all the best gossip." It'd be weird to go to Charlie herself, after all, and Rosie would probably take Charlie's secrets to her grave. "She'd be the best leading lady, I mean she sparkles, right?"

Face brightening even a hint more at the mention of Skyler's cat, Ember laughed and nodded her head. "Hugs. He's my cat now, and he's just a bundle of energy, you'll see. I just know he's gunna love you. Someone brought me a bunch of cat toys on one of the most recent runs and I think my new favourite thing in the world is playing with him.

Gathering her knees to her chest and hugging them there, Ember drank in the sight of her sister, before her brows rose at the question.

"He's got some girl my age living up there in the penthouse with him. He swears that he's living in his office and he gave the penthouse to her but like... is that really any better? Who gives their penthouse away to someone that's not their mistress? I don't know, I just... I think he thinks they're all dead and he's grieving them, but... I don't think so. Look how many people have come back already this spring. Did you see them out there? Maggie?" Hopefully she was okay, it was her that Ember worried about most. "Or mom? I bet she's hating this."

[lovxrslane]

lane shrugged off his apology. they weren't the one who was going to be upset by the news, they were just the one who had to deliver it... on second thought, maybe that was why ash had apologized? her people skills had kind of gone to shit. living alone and talking to yourself for several months would do that to you, apparently.

they scrounged their face trying to find a positive way to spin her words. "anyone who had common sense would've left the place sooner than later." of course there had to be those who had no where else to go, but lane was trying not to think about that. "i saw some flyers saying the uni was busing students out of the city." that had to have been from the first week of the outbreak. before the city had been permanently closed off, before anyone understood the magnitude of what was happening. lane felt sorry that they couldn't give ashton a better answer to his questions.

a lightbulb went off in lane's head and they freed their hands from their pockets to jokingly push into ashton's chest. "ryder! i spent like a month trying to catch you on the radio! why the hell didn't you answer?" the accusations were mostly teasing but there was a real hint of irritation under the surface. lane had tried to contact the wexley a few times out of desperation before eventually giving up and embracing the life of a lone survivor. "probably would've made your little rescue mission go a lot smoother anyway."

"Snoop away, my office is an open book, open door policy," Ash joked through blubbered words, eyes still fixated on the miracle of items in his hands again. He's more sentimental than he let's on and something about photos just.. was something physical, proof that things happened, that people loved him, that he shouldn't just leave them all because it was hard to live with his own mind and the alcohol and pills were too easy to succumb to if he wanted out. It may be rough, but those people were there, they made it worth continuing.

"That's alright, most of the actually important books are here at home, though a third of them have been given to the kids to read and colour with," he finally grinned and blinked away the last of the tears for now, Lane didn't need to be burdened with this mess of him. Ash's face faltered at the news and the hope and despair that flowed within just a second of hearing names they hope weren't lost, but now were forever. "I'm so sorry.." Fuck, how was Mr Wexley going to take this? It felt like another wrecking ball waiting to snap and fall and Ashton could feel the weight of that on Lane's shoulders.

But for now they moved on to focus on the status of the campus, "yeah I've been trying to find a way in, and a way out, I-" his voice softened, never properly mourning, "I had a lot of people, students, I knew still at campus when it happened. Did you.. find any survivors?" He needed to know, and if he could've saved anyone there, especially his students, he would've. He never forgive himself if he never tried, but the campus was a suicide mission whichever way he looked at it for the past six months. He had half the mind to ask Lane the way she got in.

He chuckled as Lane continued, "with you and all the ice cream, ramen and energy drinks, we need to get your diet sorted out," he paused to bring their attention to the garden beside them, "we'll hopefully have some vegetables for spring."

[lovxrslane]

"A world without trans people has never existed and never will"

Poster spotted in Olympia, WA

[lovxrslane]

 ♮ Lane and Ember

Send ♮ and I will place my music player on shuffle to make a playlist to represent each of the following listed below. @emberwexley

a song that represents our muses in general. messy - lola young

a song that represents what lane thinks of ember. ego - halsey

a song that represents what ember thinks of lane. sad bitch bad bitch - iyla

their theme song if they ever fell in love/became friends. birds of a feather - billie ellish

their theme song if they are enemies or were to become enemies. run rabbit - alt blk era

what my muse would sing or play at your muses funeral. you've got the love - florence and the machine

[lovxrslane]

oh he was a bit sloshed, wasn't he? lane shook her head to indicate that she hadn't been at the party. "wasn't supposed to spread my cooties, remember?" not that she thought she had any. lane was quite proud of the fact that they'd spent months surviving alone without getting bitten or scratched. there had been a handful of close calls.. reminders that sooner or later her luck would run out.

they blew out an exaggerated breath at the news. "shit." was all she could offer, hoping to show some solidarity towards jp and the very bad stupid no good situation his little sister and roman had made. deciding that his bark had to be worse than his bite lane scooted closer towards him. she kept her back pressed against the roof's railing, no interest in looking down at the city she had just escaped from. "... you okay?" it felt like the right thing to ask.

"i mean... obviously.. not, considering you're stewing up here alone with a bottle of cheap liquor." was she making this worse? kinda felt like she was making this worse.

after a brief moment of contemplation lane asked, "do you wanna break some expensive shit?" it always made them feel better. and the wexley's usually never even noticed.

He lazily glanced over at Lane as she expelled the contents of her stomach. "Lightweight," he teased her with a chuckle once she was done, unaware of the true reason for her stomach upheaval.

The playfulness he felt had been temporary and honestly welcome after the eventful party, but her question brought the reality of things crashing back down around him - despite how innocent a question it may have been. "I take it you weren't at the party when the Rose family saga went down?" he asked almost rhetrically, feigning interested in the liqour bottle he held and the soft slosh of what was left crashed against the sides as he swirled it gently.

"Jer and I are going to be uncles thanks to Roman fucking Drake. I honestly don't know how Miah found out because Charlie didn't tell either one of us, which we all fought about, but I found out because Sada and Ash were arguging in the bar and I tried to be the good guy and stop them," he started filling her in, finally taking a drink. "Sada spilled the beans and I.....stupidly," he admitted with a gentle roll of his eyes. "...confronted Charlie immediately. Needless to say, it didn't end well," he added with a knowing raise of his brow, sighing disappointedly. "So to answer your question, both, but they also pissed me off, so that makes us even," he joked poorly, trying his best to start forgetting what had happened.

[lovxrslane]

the hug felt surprisingly nice, not awkward, as hugs typically were to lane. they were just two people trying to revel in these small moments of joy; after all, the odds of a familiar face returning from the dead was pretty low these days. why shouldn't they celebrate? plus... ashton ryder probably had the worst luck of anyone she'd ever met in the wexley. he needed all the good karma she give him at the moment.

lane shrugged with an easy smile. "i've always been a bit of a voyeur, the apocalypse just made it a lot easier." she loved to snoop. each opened drawer or closet was a peek into someone's life. the items in their fridge told a story that most people would never even be able to put into words. it was not a matter of who lived there, but how they lived. what did they cherish? what did they want in life?

according to the items in ashton's office, he wanted acknowledgement. he wanted to be seen--to know that despite being one tiny life in this huge beautiful unforgiving universe, he was leaving an imprint that would exist long after his short life had ended and he'd returned to star dust.

"yeah well don't thank me too much, i used most of your books as kindling." lane joked in an attempt to free herself from the heaviness of sentimentality. she put her hands deep into the pockets of her trousers to keep from fidgeting with them. "that's where i ended up after the supply run went to hell. i ran into constance wexley and liam." the fact that neither of them had returned with lane likely made it evident that they hadn't survived.

"the place was absolutely crawling with infected." lane had come to think of them like hornets or wasps; if she kept out of their sight and stayed quiet they generally kept to themselves. lane figured the constant sweat and dirt that covered her had helped to dull her scent but maybe it was simply the fact that the campus had been so covered in death that even the infected could not smell beyond the stink of decay.

thinking back to their time scavenging the dorms lane joked, "i don't think i can ever look at ramen noodles or energy drinks again."

The garden volunteers had sorted out a rotation of chores for the garden and today Ashton was on watering duty that morning. He had still been exhausted from the party that one full day recovering his social and emotional battery wasn't enough. But at least today he could have a silent time milling through the work, plants don't talk back or leave you or hurt your feelings, at least. While he thought he'd be alone he felt another presence join him on the roof, not unusual as the only place with sun and fresh air. He was about to give them their space when he heard the all too familiar call of a nickname from an all too familiar voice.

It's been so crazy he hadn't even had time to see Lane, considering they had been in quarantine during the party and he promised himself to check in once it was lifted, but perhaps she had beat him to it. Ashton turned to the call, eyes widening at the surprise before a grin grew, "Lane.." he set the watering can down, greeting her with the soft warmth in his words, this was a much better way to meet them again compared to the ice cream museum. He felt the arms immediately around him and he was quick to wrap them up in a tight, enveloping hug, so glad to see Lane okay, safe, alive. "I'm so sorry," he murmured into her shoulder as they held on with a squeeze, apologizing... for the sake of it, for not finding her this time, for the last supply run, for everything. Letting go once the comfort was satisfied, he chuckled as he stepped back, "yeah, I'm real, I'm no Pete to cheat at cards, but I'm real." He remembered their meeting back then, wondering how mannequin Pete was doing.

Ashton hadn't taken too much notice to what Lane was holding, until she brought it to attention, eyebrows raising at the sight of one of his latest drafts of his thesis, "wait- oh damn, how did you even get this?" He had been handwriting by memory though there were still gaps, having this would maybe reignite some motivation to continue working on this despite the end of the world. He carried the stack of papers carefully in awe, the last six months had him already past mourning his thesis, its significance growing less and less when survival was just so paramount but it was good to look at it and maybe even work on it again.

He let out a low whistle as he thumbed the pages and flipped just to see, but something starkly caught his gaze and he froze, a couple of things Lane said. He flipped back to a page that held a photo of him in uniform with his marine comrades, and another as a kid with his full family photo celebrating when his dad came back from deployment and another at his high school graduation with only his mom, and another with her again celebrating with him at one of his hockey matches, hands began to tremble flipping through the pages that photos where stuck in between. Ash stayed silent and in shock, landing longingly on the most recent one he had with his mom and Dawn when she visited for the last Thanksgiving with the Roses.

He hadn't realized the hot tears that welled and threatened to spill until they did. He was close to enough to gently drop his forehead to Lane's shoulder, choking on a sob as he hugged the papers and photos too tightly to his chest in case they slipped away, whispering, "..thank you, Lane. Thank you, I.. you don't know how much this means to me." He split the framed pictures he had between home and office, mom insisting for him to bring them so that he wouldn't get homesick. And he was so homesick right now. He only raised his head when he felt like he regained control of his emotions, not bothering drying his face to continue, looking down at the gift given to him still in disbelief, "you went into NYU..?"

[lovxrslane]

The remnants of her confession to Tobias clung to them despite the distance Lane had put between them since that morning. Lane could feel it all over, sticky tendrils holding her down, like a mouse in a glue trap. Fighting only made it worse.

Lane had no idea what they expected to happen to their relationship with Tobias now. They weren't looking for a father figure ( especially one who already had lacking relationships with his actual children ) but there was still a piece of them that craved validation from him. Look at what I've done--look at how far I made it. Despite your family fucking up mine. Maybe mutual respect was the closest they could come to describing it, to be seen as someone on his level.

Intent on staying busy Lane had been making rounds on the Atrium floor with her skeleton key, checking the inconspicuously placed supply closets and doing inventory of whatever remained. She'd been on the far side of the Atrium next to the elevators and the entrance to Rosie's diner when screams began to erupt from the W. They rang hollow in Lane's ears for a painfully long moment before she hip checked the closet door shut and grabbed the climbing ax she had taken to carrying at all times. "Always something with this lot," She muttered in an attempt to distract from their own building fear.

It wasn't long before gun shots joined the screams and panicked faces began to emerge from the W's door. There were too many bodies and too much distance between Lane and the W for her to get their in time to be of any help. It felt as if the commotion was over as quickly as it began though Lane knew that couldn't be the case. They must have been standing here watching for longer than they realized, the scene playing out like a car crash that they were helpless to offer assistance with.

It's only when someone abruptly brushes past them, shoulder checking them in their need to escape the sight that the chaos has left behind, that Lane comes out of their trance and forces herself to breathe.

-

After seeing the causalities of today's breakfast for herself Lane sets out in the direction of the figure that had bumped into her minutes earlier. Before their hand touches the media room door Lane can hear the poorly muffled sounds of distress coming from within. Their face tightens as they take a steading breath and enter the room. "Mal?"

Lane stops a few feet short of closing the distance between them. "Mal!" They try to get the caretaker's attention but there's no indication she's been heard. Their mouth presses into a hard line as Lane contemplates how to handle this. Rip the Band-Aid off, they decide. Quick & fast.

It's as if Mal is just beginning to register that someone is speaking to them when Lane's hand cuts through the air to smack Malone hard across the face.

"I need you to pull it together." The words are a plea, a beg, an offering of a life line in this vast ocean they've both fallen into. "Toby didn't do that." He didn't. There was no doubt in Lane's mind. Tobias could lose every single thing he cherished in this world and he'd devote himself to rebuilding it.

"So we need to figure out who killed him."

⋙ WHEN? april 8th, morning ⋙ WHERE? media room ⋙ WHO? @lovxrslane

The past week has gone by in a haze for Mal, the emotional toll of socialising and the whole business with the family having disabled them for at least three days thereafter. Charlie'd been staying with her the night after the party, but Mal can't say what happened the days after, since the majority have been spent sleeping or too lethargic to be any sort of decent company. And just after getting over the energy debt from the party, the Wexley had once again exploded with an attack on Sada Vang, and the reported attacker having been one of her closest friends, Ashton.

To say she's exhausted down to the bone would be an understatement.

And so she'd slept in, hoping that if she went down for morning rations the latest possible, she might avoid the majority of the building's residents so she could spend more energy trying to figure out fact from fiction, get a timeline of what had happened from all parties involved, a lot of fucking talking to people again. Just the idea of it is almost enough to make them turn heel in the middle of the stairwell to the Atrium and go the fuck back to bed, food be damned.

But the noise coming from the Atrium isn't regular. It's not the din and hum of people having breakfast conversations, of food preparation, of footsteps to and fro from the now-working lift. There's a panicked element to it, a buzz of something happening, a tension that immediately raises Mal's hackles and has her speed her pace down the stairs, opening the door to the Atrium to veritable pandaemonium.

People, covered in blood, people she loves, people she knows, and the dead—already eliminated—spread across the floor across the hall, starting from the W. "What happened?" Mal asks in a commanding voice, immediately slotting into an action-oriented, crisis-situation mindset. Her eyes move from Jeremiah to Roman and Charlie, to Ziggy's little sister and Sher, moving across the Atrium towards the Mr W with long, determined strides. Dark eyes take in the carnage, mentally taking note of the survivors and the deceased. Robert. Abigail. Tony. Eyes move to the final body, broken almost beyond recognition, formerly grey hair a deep crimson, suit torn.

Her entire world falls away, the sound around her goes mute, and even the smell of death refuses to register anymore as Mal's eyes are fixed on the mangled face of Tobias Wexley, milky white eyes staring away at absolutely nothing. There's no expression change from the caretaker, no tensing of their body, no thumping heartbeat. In fact, there's a decidedly lack of nothing as they stare, even breathing nigh imperceptible, still as a statue. Still as the mangled dead.

A voice addresses her from beyond the veil, and for a moment, Mal turns her head, eyes still staying on Tobias. "Yeah, okay," they respond out of instinct, voice monotone, without really registering what had been said or asked. "I'm going to check if there is anyone else who's injured or needs help." Like a robot, Mal turns on her heel to head out of the W, making her way to the media room.

Like on a puppeteer's strings, they find themself walking into the media room as far as the walls let them, stopped by the window and its drapery. It isn't until that moment that the world comes crashing back with such force it knocks her clean off her feet and she drops to her knees hard, before crumpling further while her breathing picks up, her head starts swimming, and her entire body starts uncontrollably shaking.

Grabbing onto the nearest thing she can, Mal's calloused hands find purchase in the curtains and brings them to her face, wailing and screaming into them like a woman possessed; it's not long before the fabric is soaked in tears. The wave of emotions are too much and too fast one after another for her to pick apart, it feels like something is trying to tear her apart from the inside, something she needs out, something she can't handle.

This isn't real, though. It's just not. It's not allowed to be. Every flash of Tobias' glazed over eyes has another wave of raw emotion threatening to drown her, and in her attempt to wish for time to stop, to turn back, for the world to stop lying to her, to stop taking like this, for her to stop being a curse that gets people killed, Mal doesn't hear the media room door open, doesn't hear muffled footsteps approach, doesn't hear a relatively unfamiliar voice address her.

[lovxrslane]

♮ 🥺

Send ♮ and I will place my music player on shuffle to make a playlist to represent each of the following listed below. @ashton-ryder

a song that represents our muses in general. hard times - paramore

a song that represents what lane thinks of ashton. cry or fly - yoshi 2.0

a song that represents what ashton thinks of lane. midnight sky - miley cyrus

their theme song if they ever fell in love/became friends. rose colored boy - paramore

their theme song if they are enemies or were to become enemies. mad at me - kiana lede

what my muse would sing or play at your muses funeral. armor - iniko

[lovxrslane]

 ♮ Lane and Tobias

Send ♮ and I will place my music player on shuffle to make a playlist to represent each of the following listed below. @mrwexleysr

a song that represents our muses in general. american requiem - beyonce

a song that represents what lane thinks of tobias. apology - dana dentata

a song that represents what tobias thinks of lane. anxiety - sleepy hallow ft. doechii

their theme song if they ever fell in love/became friends. pink pony club - chappell roan

their theme song if they are enemies or were to become enemies. transparent soul - willow

what my muse would sing or play at your muses funeral. symptom of life - willow

[lovxrslane]

lane scooted further towards the desk that separated them. they could feel the edge of their seat pressing into her upper thighs as a reminder of how close they were to slipping onto the floor. that's how the world felt to lane right now--a thine tightrope underneath them that would let them fall into the vast abyss of space any moment now. she opened her mouth to speak and let out a strangled breath of air. lane awkwardly adjusted in their seat and licked their lips before trying again.

"i lied." that seemed as good a place to begin as any. "--when i came to work here, i lied." the words tumbled out quickly before her admittance could be misconstrued. "see my mum was a flight attendant in the 90s. she met a lot of rich blokes and a lot of them were right awful bastards." the story was spilling from lane's mouth like blood from a busted lip. she just wanted it out, needed it out. "so when i finally demanded to know who my father was i believed her when she told me she was raped by a wexley."

a low hum built in her chest as she struggled to maintain her composure. it was only during this pause that she realized tears had already begun slipping down her dark cheeks. "i don't know why i was so certain it was you." a bitter, choked laugh escaped lane's mouth. "i think i needed it to be you." because the only other option, tobias' brother, was dead and gone and could not give lane the closure she desperately needed.

"constance wasn't going to her grave without setting me right." whatever she'd thought of her husband she wasn't going to let lane think of him as that kind of monster.

He had truly expected them know about all of them, though part of him had hoped that they'd all fled together, and so that blow wasn't so bad, but the mention of his 'drawer whiskey' had his heart falling all the way into the put of his stomach, which felt like it was trying to jump into his throat. Drawer whiskey was for bad news.

Taking a long, and already slightly shuddering breath, Tobias nodded and reached for drawer knob, pulling it open with a slowness meant to prolong what was set to be the worst news of his life to date. The last time they'd shared a glass from this bottle he'd lost his mother, and now...

Almost flinching himself at the sound of the bottle's heavy glass bottom on the hardwood of his desk top, fingers trembling as he reached down for two of the glasses set in their velvet lined box, saved for occasions that called for their being withdrawn along with their matching decanter. As he poured the amber liquid into the cups, there was sigh of relief as they mentioned that they hadn't seen Toby or Margaret, and that left only one other option.

Constance.

Rather than filling the glasses with two fingers of whiskey he filled them two fingers from the top, nearly spilling it as his wife's wedding ring came into view, glittering it's diamonds in their palm. Setting down the bottle to pick up the tiny piece of his heart, the first sob tore from him. He thought he'd already mourned her, it truly shouldn't have come as a surprise, but he could feel the utter shattering of his heart.

Closing his fist around the ring so hard it was amazing it didn't cut into his palm and make him bleed, Tobias shook his head. "I failed them so badly, Lane. All of them... especially her." He'd failed her long before this. Continuously and mindlessly so as their marriage had atrophied. And now, he'd failed her in the worst way possible.

[lovxrslane]

@ashton-ryder

it was a strange, almost awkward feeling to have returned to the wexley with not only much needed supplies but several carefully considered gifts.

it was easy to think that the items were trivial—trinkets that added nothing to the group’s ongoing fight for survival. but that wasn’t the case; because for lane… it had been entirely about survival. thinking of the familiar faces she had left behind and the friends she had come to know provided a much needed sense of comfort. it was a reminder that when she was ready, there was something at the wexley worth returning for.

“soldier boy,” lane bounded towards the slightly taller figure with a noticeable bounce in her step. she smiled despite the breeze of cool air that brought a wave of gooseflesh on her dark skin. when ashton turned lane found herself overtaken by emotion and before they knew what they were doing lane threw their arms around the man who had gotten her back to the wexley safely the first time she was cut off from it.

lane held a stack of papers in their hands which were becoming crumbled from the hug. they pulled back and released ash with a awkward smile. “just checking you were real, yeah? seen too many ghosts the past few months.”

many of those months had been spent at the university. lane had eventually learned to navigate the stagnate undead that resided within the campus threatening to become animate at the slightest hint of prey. during their time at the university lane had come across a door with a familiar name emblazoned beside it. professor ryder.

“i found something of yours. a couple things actually..” lane handed ash the stack of papers which seemed to be a draft or copy of the thesis he’d been working on, but between the pages were photographs she’d freed from broken frames and kept safe with intention to return to him. from the resemblance she was certain that many of the pictures contained a woman who must’ve been his mum.

[lovxrslane]

lane nodded somberly at the news of skyler's death and their expression shifted to one of sympathy within moments. "oh luv..." she knew the friendship between ember and skyler had been on the verge of blossoming into something more. the thought of ember finally finding some semblance of peace in this awful new world just before it slipped through her fingers seemed cruel.

she listened as ember continued at what seemed like an increased speed, likely brushing past the hard truth she'd just reminded herself of. hearing that most of the supply runs had the same luck they had was unsurprising but left a small sting nonetheless. their frown deepened momentarily at the notion of a second pregnant survivor ( this time knowingly getting knocked up during the effing end of the world ) but lane was feeling more aggravated than saddened.

"i think we have enough material to start a soap-op," they could be the very first set real time in a zombie apocalypse. "ria could finally get her acting career off the ground."

they were glad to hear ember had found something to mentally occupy her. the project would've been a good distraction from the quickly growing lack of control in her life. lane could only imagine how terrifying that feeling would be for someone used to living in a world there was nothing money could not buy her.

"what about the cat of his? he still around?" ember would likely have taken in as a treasured token of his memory. the idea of ember wexley having no one left in her life but a kitten and a mostly absent father was... painfully ironic.

unable to resist lane asked the question that had driven their curiosity more than anything else ember mentioned. "..so what makes you think your dad has a mistress?"

"Well of course I am. How else am I supposed to stuff like all these months into all this short of a time? So much happened from November until now and all of it... or... some of it is actually so interesting." Taking a deep breath to calm her excited energy and realign her thoughts, Ember gave a little shake to release it.

"Okay so... Skyler.... didn't make it." Clearing her throat from the threat of her voice breaking, she covered the obvious pain from that with a rushed continuing of her peppy recap. "Actually most of the run teams didn't make it back, and winter was super quiet. And then spring came and now it's been so wild. Charlie's pregnant, if you can believe that we just learned about that tonight. I think Dad has a sugar baby but that's... whatever. Um... let me see..." Tapping her finger as she huffed off her feelings about Ivy, her brain bounce to the next most recent noteworthy thing.

"Ashton like lost his shit at Sada, it was crazy, I didn't think he even knew how to raise his voice his like that. You could hear it right across the atrium. Oh! And I had a date... with Val. It's... pretty heated but I don't know, you know, if she's like... into more than like.. you know... heated. Oh! Right!" Swiping at the air a little as she remembered where she'd started her train of thought to begin with, the blond beamed brightly.

"I started like this little store thing with the knick knacks and linens and cushions and stuff we took out of the empty apartments, so people can like shop to decorate their places when they come. Like.. survivors, or people here. Anyone really. Tons of my old stuff, clothes and stuff. Charlie let me be in charge of it, and us girls have really made the most of it."

[lovxrslane]

If your character was a Pokémon, which one would it be, and why?

An old set of armor steeped in grudges caused this Pokémon’s evolution. Ceruledge cuts its enemies to pieces without mercy.

[lovxrslane]

straight to business then? yeah. that was how he liked things. he always needed the bad news up front; needed a damage report so he could begin constructing a solution as soon as possible. lane bit down on the hard candy and felt the crunch deep in their teeth. “don’t know about all of them.” the sharp pieces of candy dug into their gums and tongue as it fluttered around inside their mouth.

lane nodded towards toby’s desk and inquired, “still got that bottle of whiskey in the drawer?” the one he kept stashed for special circumstances— for soothing wounds after loosing a deal or a hit piece being published about the family in one of the many newspapers and magazines who loved to pick apart their private lives. their inquiry about the bottle was enough for tobias to understand they had bad news. the last time lane had asked him to pull it out was when she had to relay the message that his mother had died.

“never crossed paths with rhett or jr,” the nickname she’d taken to calling tobias’ son despite how many times he expressed hating it. no further words would come to lane and after several long moments they gave up trying and leaned towards tobias’ desk to reveal constance’s wedding band in their palm.

“i was with her in the end.”

she wasn’t sure how much tobias would want to know about the days she had spent watching constance slowly succumb to her injuries. how would he feel to know that the hand now sitting open in surrender had once cut off his wife’s leg.

Oi oi.

At first it surely seemed like it had to be a dream. A familiar voice that he hadn't heard outside of his dreams for so long that it prolonged his waking confusion from what had been an uncomfortable and fretful night's sleep. Groaning as the first real thing that comes through is the ache in his back from sleeping at his desk once again, Tobias presses a hand to the tightness in his lower back as he sit ups and finally regards Lane with a smile of genuine relief.

Without even saying a word, he's up from behind his desk, gathering them up into his arms in a crushing embrace, wrapping them up in his arms and to his chest with every grateful ounce he had that they were alive.

"Thank god, you're alive."

Pulling back just enough to look down at that familiar face, one hand lifts to cup the top of their head and then a sturdy shoulder, truly drinking in that they were finally there in front of him. "I can't tell you how worried I've been. Do you know anything about Toby and Maggie? Constance?"

[lovxrslane]

lane had ended up taking a detour on their way to tobias' office, a sudden pang of nausea growing in their stomach. they knew that no amount of fresh air would settle that uncomfortable feeling but lane grabbed onto the excuse and climbed the empty stairwell until they reached the roof. it was only when the door opened and they stopped to catch their breath that lane realized how hard she'd pushed herself, how her aggressive dash up the dozen flights of stairs had only worsened the queasiness.

she launched towards the edge of the roof and made it just in time to toss the mostly empty contents of her stomach over the side. after several seconds it was clear that the spasms in her stomach had stopped and lane wiped their mouth with the back of a hand. they felt no better.

"mate what the fuck are you talking about?" the blunt response was the first and only thing lane could think of in reply to his question. she had no idea what john-paul rose had gotten himself into and wasn't sure she was interested in finding out.

but each moment spent here on the rooftop was another moment she didn't have to go confront tobias and tell him of his wife's death.

her tone was a hint softer as she asked, "...who'd you piss off this time? mommy or the kids?" sada or his siblings.

Who: Open

When: Late hours of April 1st/early hours of April 2nd

Where: Rooftop

Not a thing had gone as expected. Not a thing. And it had all started out so well. But when he'd found out the only people he considered family kept things from him - Big things. Lied even. - he couldn't stifle the overwhelming feeling of betrayal that tightened his chest over the omission. No matter the fact that he understood and even agreed with their reasoning. Worst of all, it made him feel like a failure as a brother knowing Charlie felt like she had to hide her pregnancy from him. Or that she was even an iota similar to their mother.

Where had he gone so wrong?

The whole evening brought up a lot of shit he'd long thought forgotten and the building became more claustrophobic than ever. It was times like this that made him miss the freedom to leave the most. Right or wrong, John-Paul best processed things alone and with the world now conatined solely within the walls of the Wexley it was almost impossible for him to disappear anymore. The roof at least gave him enough space to breath a little.

He was glad when he found it unoccupied after leaving the Rose family meeting. He made his way across the rooftop to the banister, only swaying gently as he walked. He leaned on the railing with a sigh. He was going to be an uncle. A smile tugged at his lips and he took a drink. Maybe the night hadn't been all bad. Charlie had gotten knocked up by Roman though, so maybe it had all been shit.

JP had been lost in thought over what it all meant under the circumstances when the sound of the door shutting broke his focus. "Hate to break it to you, but the show's over," he said bitterly without even bothering to look back at who'd interuppted him.

[lovxrslane]

@mrwexleysr tobias' office

they'd been sitting on the living room couch in the quarantine suite all night, the snoring from eduardo and trey only reminding lane how unlikely it was they'd be getting sleep of their own any time soon.

they couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't do much else but sit and focus on their own breathing because the moment they lost concentration the weight of her secret would crush just as surely as that sorry skyler bloke.

when lane could see the edges of dawn creeping through the sky they decided it was close enough to morning to justify a social call. it hadn't taken very long to make her way to tobias' office--which was always the first place lane checked when she was searching for him. she was unsurprised to see his sleeping form leaning over his desk. it was a familiar sight.

she plopped onto one of the chairs in front of his desk and pulled out a stale lolly, watching as his body began to show signs of rousing from his sleep. "oi oi." lane greeted with a half smile. casually. as if this conversation could be anything but earth shattering for them both. "as always... i'm pleasantly surprised to see the building still standing."