#Matchbox truck series

[rickyreeves1980]

Jungle Strike (subtitled The Sequel to Desert Strike, or Desert Strike part II in Japan) is a video game developed and published by Electronic Arts in 1993 for the Sega Genesis/Mega Drive. The game was later released on several other consoles such as the Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES), and an upgraded version was made for DOS computers. The Amiga conversion was the responsibility of Ocean Software while the SNES and PC DOS versions were that of Gremlin Interactive, and the portable console versions were of Black Pearl Software. It is the direct sequel to Desert Strike (a best-seller released the previous year) and is the second installment in the Strike series. The game is a helicopter-based shoot 'em up, mixing action and strategy. The plot concerns two villains intent on destroying Washington, D.C. The player must use the helicopter and occasionally other vehicles to thwart their plans.

Its game engine was carried over from a failed attempt at a flight simulator and was inspired by Matchbox toys and Choplifter. Jungle Strike retained its predecessor's core mechanics and expanded on the model with additional vehicles and settings. The game was well received by most critics upon release. Publications praised its gameplay, strategy, design, controls and graphics.

Jungle Strike features two antagonists: Ibn Kilbaba, the son of Desert Strike's antagonist, and Carlos Ortega, a notorious South American drug lord. The opening sequence depicts the two men observing a nuclear explosion on a deserted island, while discussing the delivery of "nuclear resources" and an attack on Washington D.C.; Kilbaba seeks revenge for his father's death at the hands of the US, while Ortega wishes to "teach the Yankees to stay out of my drug trade".

The player takes control of a "lone special forces" pilot. The game's first level depicts the protagonist repelling terrorist attacks on Washington, D.C., including the President's limousine. Subsequent levels depict counter-attacks on the drug lord's forces, progressing towards his "jungle fortress". In the game's penultimate level, the player pursues Kilbaba and Ortega to their respective hideouts before capturing them.

The final level takes place in Washington, D.C. again, where the two antagonists attempt to flee after escaping from prison. The player must destroy both Kilbaba and Ortega and stop four trucks carrying nuclear bombs from blowing up the White House. The PC version also extends the storyline with an extra level set in Alaska, in which the player must wipe out the remainder of Ortega's forces under the command of a Russian defector named Ptofski, who has taken control of oil tankers and is threatening to destroy the ecosystem with crude oil if his demands are not met. Once all levels are complete, the ending sequence begins and depicts the protagonist and his co-pilot in an open-topped car in front of cheering crowds.

Jungle Strike is a helicopter-based shoot 'em up, mixing action and strategy. The player's main weapon is a fictionalised Comanche attack helicopter. Additional vehicles can be commandeered: a motorbike, hovercraft and F-117. The latter in particular features variable height and unlimited ammunition, but is more vulnerable to crashes. The game features an "overhead" perspective "with a slight 3D twist". The graphics uses a 2.5D perspective which simulates the appearance of being 3D.

Levels consist of several missions, which are based around the destruction of enemy weapons and installations, as well as rescuing hostages or prisoners of war, or capturing enemy personnel. The helicopter is armed with machine guns, more powerful Hydra rockets and yet more deadly Hellfire missiles. The more powerful the weapon, the fewer can be carried: the player must choose an appropriate weapon for each situation. Enemy weapons range from armoured cars to artillery and tanks.

The player's craft has a limited amount of armour, which is depleted as the helicopter is hit by enemy fire. Should armour reach zero, the craft will be destroyed, costing the player a life. The player must outmanoeuvre enemies to avoid damage, but can replenish armour by means of power-ups or by airlifting rescued friendlies or captives to a landing zone.

Vehicles have a finite amount of fuel which is steadily depleted as the level progresses. Should the fuel run out, the vehicle will crash, again costing the player a life. The craft can refuel by collecting fuel barrels. Vehicles also carry limited ammunition, which must be replenished by means of ammo crates.

[perryvonvicious]

Completing a Toy Collection After 35 Years!

Right from the start, I want to address the fact that the title I've chosen here is, indeed, clickbait... sort of.

When I was just 2 years old, another little boy at my babysitter's house brought a VHS tape his parent had recorded off TV... the event in question? 1986's Return of the Monster Trucks! Our babysitter put it on for us, and my life changed. For years thereafter, monster trucks became an obsession for me. That same day, I came home from the sitter's and I would not stop asking my parents for monster trucks. They had no clue what a monster truck even was, but I was 2, and it was the first time I found a unique interest all on my own, so they wanted to indulge me.

My parents played monster trucks with me, using whatever toys we had that could approximate monster trucks or crushed cars. It might mean me crawling over paper grocery bags to "crush" them, or my dad helping me make trails and tracks in the sandbox for my Tonka trucks to race through. But the only actual monster truck item they could find for me, was having the mother of that other boy make a dubbed copy of Return of the Monster Trucks so my little brother and I could watch it at home.

It wasn't until my 3rd birthday that my parents found, hanging on the pegs of the toy aisle in Ames department store, Matchbox monster truck toys ACTUALLY BASED ON THE VERY TRUCKS FROM MY VIDEO TAPE! The toy series was called the Matchbox Super Chargers. I can't actually recall my reaction when I opened those presents, but I can, at age 38, remember exactly what I got: Bigfoot, USA-1, Awesome Kong II, and Rollin' Thunder!

I would get many other monster truck toys over the years, some from the same series, some from its sister series (Monster Wars), and still others from off-brand toy makers who pretty blatantly copied everything about these toys' stylistically... but those first 4 toys were always my favorites.

Years went by, and my obsession with monster trucks faded into the background as I discovered other things in life: wrestling, music, books, abstract art, Disney Parks, filmmaking, weight lifting... and, of course, girls. My toys left the toy box and entered a cardboard box. At some point, likely while I was in college, I agreed to give them away to my (now ex-) girlfriend's baby brother. He was a good kid, probably 8 at the time, and he LOVED monster trucks. They went to a good home.

Jump ahead to July 2020. My birthday was fast-approaching and, like when I was little, I was constantly trying to guess what present(s) I might get. My wife kept getting a little grin and laughing. "You're not going to guess what I got you, but you're going to love it," she'd say. My present, when I finally saw it, was in an oddly shaped box, and it was a little heavy. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I had no idea what this weird, oddly-weighted item could be.

I opened the gift to discover a mostly-complete, and in pretty good shape Matchbox Super Chargers Arena Track Playset! I couldn't believe it. I'd never managed to get one when I was a kid, but I'd ALWAYS wanted one.

The surprises didn't end there... because this playset was designed to also be a carrying case for the individual trucks, and I could feel some thing(s) rolling around inside. My wife told me she didn't know anything about other toys being included when she ordered it. I opened it to find Bigfoot, USA-1, and a pulling sled! I couldn't believe it! She also revealed that she had a second, smaller gift. It was Rollin' Thunder!

This might be the only time I've ever been driven to tears by a birthday present.

I began slowly collecting more of the series. My first purchase, no surprise, was Awesome Kong II. In just a week, I'd reclaimed my original four toys. Shortly thereafter, my Dad found a box of toys in the garage... it was my entire collection of the Monster Wars series! Over the next few years, I would make some trades with folks online, and even be gifted toys from fans, all the while, slowly growing a collection I'd never managed to complete as a kid.

Then came today. Today I received the last two toys from the series. They were sent my way by a fan. It took me 35 years, but I finally have the full set of my favorite childhood toys!

Admittedly, there are rare variants, oddball rereleases, and rare foreign releases, but I'm not worried about those.

For now, I leave you with a photo of the collection.

[gigikthings]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Matchbox -1 Tipper Truck.

[rich4you]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: MATCHBOX MODELS OF YESTERYEAR 1:35 MODEL T FORD TANKER CASTROL OIL - Y-3.

[poshstory]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Hot Wheels - Batman The Animated Series DC 1/5 Batman Batplane 56/250.

[stonenuts]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Matchbox Holden VF Commodore SSV Highway Patrol Police Car Lot of 4.

[mskellyjo1]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Matchbox Across America 50th Birthday Series Utah Ford Explorer Ski Patrol Car.

[diecastcarlove]

A Brief History Of Diecast Toy Cars

A diecast (or die-cast) toy is a toy or a collectible model produced by using the diecasting method of putting molten lead, zinc alloy or plastic in a mold to produce a particular shape. Such toys are typically made of metal, with plastic, rubber, glass, or other machined metal parts. Wholly plastic toys are made by a similar process of injection molding, but the two methods are distinct because of the properties of the materials.

Process

The metal used in diecasting is either a lead alloy (used early on), or more commonly, Zamak (called Mazak in the UK), an alloy of zinc with small quantities of alluminium and copper. Lead or iron are impurities that must be carefully avoided in Zamac, as they give rise to a deterioration of the metal most commonly called zinc pest. The terms white metal or pot metal are also used when applied to alloys based more on lead or iron. The most common diecast vehicles are scale models of automobiles, aircraft, military vehicles, construction equipment, and trains, although almost anything can be produced by this method, like Monopoly game pieces, furniture handles, or metal garden sprinklers.

Industry leaders

While most often associated with Hot Wheels, diecast toys were first produced early in the 20th century by manufacturers such as Meccano (Dinky Toys) in the United Kingdom, Dowst Brothers (TootsieToys) in the United States and Fonderie de précision de Nanterre (Solido) in France. The first models on the market were basic, consisting of a small vehicle body with no interior. In the early days, as mentioned, it was common for impurities in the alloy to result in zinc pest, and the casting would distort, crack, or crumble. As a result, diecast toys made before World War II are difficult to find in good condition. The later high-purity Zamak alloy avoided this problem.

Lesney began making diecast toys in 1947. Their popular Matchbox 1-75 series was so named because there were always 75 different vehicles in the line, each packaged in a small box designed to look like those used for matches. These toys became so popular that the "Matchbox" became widely used as a generic term for any die-cast toy car, regardless of manufacturer.

The popularity of diecast toys developed through the 1950s as their detail and quality increased. More companies entered the field, including successful brands like Corgi brand, produced by Mettoy, Italian Mercury, Danish Tekno, or German Schuco and Gama Toys. Corgi Toys appeared in 1956 and pioneered the use of interiors and windows in their models. In 1968, Hot Wheels were introduced in the United States by Mattel to address the complaint that they had no line of toys for boys to balance their line of Barbie dolls for girls. Because they looked fast and were fast (they were equipped with a low-friction wheels/axles), Hot Wheels quickly became the most popular diecast cars in the toy market, becoming one of the world's top sellers, challenging the popularity of Matchbox.

Although advertising had been used by Meccano (Dinky Toys) since 1934, during the 1960s new companies began to use diecast vehicles exclusively as promotional items. The idea that children play a large role in a family's purchasing decisions was key. There is also the fact that children grown up to buy products that they were exposed to when young. Matchbox vehicles mildly advertised a variety of mainly British products like Singer sewing machines, Tetley tea, Pickford's movers, or Coca-Cola. As time passed, companies such as McDonald's, Sears Roebuck, Kodak and Texaco commissioned toymakers to produce promotional models featuring their names and logos or licensed their use. One early example was an American Airlines London bus produced by Matchbox, an idea some other airlines quickly copied.

Beginning in the mid 1970s, trucks and other commercial vehicles grew greatly in popularity. Matchbox started the trend when they re-launched their "Models of Yesteryear" lineup. They made several different versions of their Y-12 Ford Model T van, along with other trucks in colorful liveries such as Coca-Cola, Colman's Mustard, and Cerebos Salt. They also made promotional versions for Smith's Crisps (potato chips) and Harrods department store. Some models were made exclusively for certain markets and immediately became quite expensive elsewhere: Arnott's Biscuits (Australia) and Sunlight Seife (soap, Germany) are examples.

Challenges and Changes (1980s-1990s)

The 1980s and 1990s brought challenges to the diecast car market. Environmental concerns led to changes in materials used in production, with lead being replaced by safer alloys. Additionally, economic fluctuations impacted consumer spending. Both Matchbox and Hot Wheels faced ownership changes and adaptations to evolving markets.

Revival and Modernization (2000s-Present)

In the 2000s, both Matchbox and Hot Wheels experienced revivals. Matchbox, acquired by Mattel in 1997, underwent a rebranding effort to modernize its image. Hot Wheels expanded its product range, including collectibles and multimedia tie-ins.

The internet has played a significant role in connecting collectors and enthusiasts. Online forums, auction platforms, and social media have allowed fans to share their passion, trade cars, and access valuable information about their collections.

Innovation and Sustainability (Present and Future)

In recent years, both Matchbox and Hot Wheels have focused on sustainability. They are producing diecast cars with more eco-friendly materials and promoting recycling initiatives.

Augmented reality (AR) and digital integration have also become part of the diecast car experience. Collectors can use smartphone apps to scan their cars and access digital content, adding a new layer of interactivity to the hobby. Conclusion

The diecast car market, with Matchbox and Hot Wheels at its forefront, has come a long way from its humble beginnings. These miniature replicas of real vehicles have evolved into cherished collectibles, cherished by enthusiasts of all ages. As technology advances and environmental concerns persist, the future of diecast cars will continue to evolve, but their enduring appeal to both collectors and children remains a testament to their timeless charm.

[bollywood143114]

Where is Chandrachud Singh, who gave up his IAS dream and dominated Bollywood? The accident ended his career

Chandrachur Singh Life Story: Sometimes in a person's life, no matter how hard he works, his luck cannot be reversed. This fits perfectly with the famous Bollywood actor Chandrachud Singh of the 90's. He earned his name and fame through hard work, but an accident completely changed his destiny. In the '90s, Candrachud Singh was an artist in the Bollywood industry, appearing in a number of blockbuster movies. In the meantime, an accident occurred to him from which he could not recover until now. In such a situation, I will tell you where Chandrachud Singh, a famous actor in the 90s, is. Chandrachud Singh's life was full of struggles. Chandrachud Singh worked as a teacher before appearing in films. He was born in 1968 in Aligarh, Uttar Pradesh. From an early age he was interested in both studies and acting. On the one hand, IAS was a dream, but on the other hand, he had a great interest in the world of acting and music. This is why he also received classical vocal training. I left UPSC and chose Bollywood. After that he started teaching music to children at Vasant Valley School in Delhi. Along with this, he taught history to children in Dehradun schools. While teaching, he was preparing for UPSC when he started receiving offers for films. In that situation, he left everything and came to Mumbai, and the 1990 film wandering started his career at During that time, he was seen working as an assistant director on this film. Since 1996 he you and my dream Started acting in films. Chandrachud Singh's first film was made under the banner of Amitabh Bachchan Corporation Limited. Although the film did not make much money at the box office, Chandrachud's career took off after this film. 1996 itself is Chandrachud's second film. matchbox was released and marked a quantum leap in his career. This was followed by Chandrachud's 1999 film with Sanjay Dutt. turns off the light The movie came out in 2000 what are you talking about... In the meantime, his stadium, which was running high in the sky, suddenly turned over in an accident. The accident that ruined his career Chandrachur himself recently exposed his accident in an interview with a media channel and said he suffered a deep shoulder injury while water screening in Goa. It was a time when he received offers for many films at once. In such circumstances, due to his injury, the filming of the film was stopped. He underwent physical therapy, but also had to undergo surgery. Despite all this, he never recovered. Things got so bad that he had to leave the film. In that situation, he hadn't gotten any work for 10 years. Nevertheless, he did not give up and got the movie in 2012. 4 days of moonlight I got a chance to come back to the screen once again. Although the film proved to be a flop at the box office. Appears in Arya with Sushmita Since then, Chandrachud has disappeared from the Bollywood industry. In that situation, now you might be wondering what Chandrachud has been doing for so long... Chandrachur was so passionate about acting that he still didn't give up. In 2020, Chandrachud was also seen opposite Sushmita in the web series Arya. He will also be seen in some new projects soon. But only time will tell when he will get a taste of success again. ALSO READ- Raveena Tandon’s on-screen father once drove a truck, but today he is the owner of crores People who watched the viral video of Anjali Arora’s ‘Broken Bed’ after ‘Kacha badam’ showed funny reactions DISCLAIMER We’ve taken all measures to insure that the information handed in this composition and on our social media platform is believable, vindicated and sourced from other Big media Houses. For any feedback or complaint, reach out to us at bollywoodofindiaa@gmail.com Read the full article

[wofsports]

The Squishmallow is a collection of squishy and plush toys. Animals, characters, and seasonal themes are just some of the forms they take. Their cute and cuddly character has garnered a big appeal among kids and adults alike. 

[maxcollectoruniverse]

A Matchbox Monster Series Character Car with Frankenstein hovering over a diecast 1:64 scale 1923 panel truck that's for sale at https://collectiblesandmoreinstore.com/shop/matchbox-car-with-frankenstein/

[mbsuperfast]

Got a nice box full of goodies in the mail today

[dreamyjoons]

Last Light ⥋ 04

⥋ Alone was how you preferred it. People came with feelings, feelings get you killed - and death in the new world wasn’t permanent. But not everything is avoidable, and Kim Taehyung is no exception.

Genre/warnings: zombie apocalypse!au. Angst, just lots of emotions, chatacter/bangtan d*ath! Please note!! blood and injury mention. fluff if you have a magnifying glass and squint real good

Word count: 5.9k

A/N: We back- with a heavy one ooop. This one will have death in it, with our beloved boys. Please take this into account when you read! This is nothing personal, purely for fictional purposes. Series materlist under the readmore. Love you all, i hope you still enjoy!

⥋ Chapter 04: grave

Series Materlist

The lights blind you as the car pulls up the dirt track to where you all stand. You stood still rooted to the spot - but the others around you were in pandemonium. 

Taehyung had begun staggering down the road before breaking into a full sprint, and Jin had almost let his axe drop to the floor. He was uneasy on his feet, looking somewhere being elated and terrified. 

You hover, not knowing if you should be around when they reunited. Should you even stick around? You had met Namjoon before, sure. And Taehyung and Jin seemed to be okay so far. But if there was one thing you had learnt from being in a group before, things are never rosy for long. It might be better for you to not be around. Or at least, you should have your hockey stick on hand. 

You’re only halfway to the tent when you hear the vehicle slam on it’s breaks and shouting begins to fill the air. 

“Jin! Jin we need help!” You hear an unfamiliar voice, laboured and panicked. 

You watch as Jin finally drops his axe and bolts towards the sound of the voice. Taehyung beats him though, a strangled cry leaving him as he rounds the car door. 

“Y/N! Can you come help me take care of the stragglers?” You turn to the sound of your name to see Namjoon jumping out of one of the trucks. He leaves the door open as he moves to dispatch the few undead that followed the noise of the engines. 

You move forward towards Jin’s tent for your hockey stick when he calls your name, pointing at his axe. It was a long axe, with a well worn handle and an end that you’re sure had seen a lot of use. With a shaky hand you take it, meeting the eyes briefly of the man he runs with. 

He was familiar to you. You couldn’t place it, but you had definitely seen that man before. But you couldn't give him too much attention as your eyes are drawn down to what lay in his arms, or more importantly, who. 

A man lay there, and he was in a terrible state. His skin was a sickly pale and palid, with blood splatter across his parted lips. He was limp in the arms that held him, his eyes blinking heavily. 

Taehyung bursts past you, opening Jin’s tent and ushering the men in. You tear your eyes away, the unmistakable groans floating to meet you. You steel yourself and rush to Namjoon’s side, the pain in your ribs reverberating with each step. 

There were five. How they had managed to keep track of the car, you didn’t want to know. With each swing you groan, struggling to focus your attention on the undead in front of you. It takes several goes for you to finally get one to stop moving towards you, your stamina severely depleted. You refused to be deadweight though, dispatching the final staggering body with a choke of pain. Once they were all on the floor, you dropped your arms, letting the axe slip from your grip. 

“Come on.” Namjoon says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder before grabbing the dropped weapon. 

You let him lead you back towards the fire. You cast your eyes toward Jin’s tent, the light inside casting shadows of the figures moving rapidly inside. 

The question of who that was and what happens burns on the tip of your tongue but you keep it to yourself. You stand awkwardly by the fire with Namjoon, listening to the quiet voices from the tent. He shifts constantly, the tension rippling off him in titanic waves as the minutes tick by agonisingly. 

Even if you wanted to escape, your stuff was in Jin’s very busy tent. And you wouldn’t make it on your own out there with how much your ribs hurt. It was foolish, but still an option. You don’t know how well this is gonna turn out. 

Your ears prick up at the sound of the tent zip opening and closing. Namjoon’s head snaps in it’s direction, deflating slightly when he realises it’s not any news. Over to you both staggers the guy you vaguely registered before but still you could not place. 

He was skinny and much shorter than the rest, but he looked the most intimidating. His forehead was pulled into a deep frown, with his hands tucked deep in his hoodie pockets. He was speckled with dark red stains, and you could see the way his hands shake despite how deep he had hidden them.

“How’s Jimin?” Namjoon asks, his voice crackled. The other man merely shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the fire. 

So Jimin was the man that was carried in? You looked over the men, your heart in your throat. 

You knew all too well what they were going through. Watching your group drop away and knowing there’s nothing you could do about it was an agony beyond measure.With the way the world was, you never got to deal with it. There was always someone else to lose, or lose yourself along the way.

The short man hadn’t acknowledged you yet. Not that you were expecting a warm welcome.

You all stand motionless, trapped in the eternal wait. You don’t know how much time passes, but the darkness slowly begins to slip away as the blue hours of the mornings slips in. 

You’re dead on your feet, but nothing can break anyone out of the spell you were stuck under. Your fingertips were like ice, and each breath felt harder than the last. The ticks of the cooling vehicle engines had long since stopped, the trees rustled gently in the breeze, and the quiet hum of constant noise filtered through from the tent. 

“Hobi got… I had to…” Namjoon croaks, his eyes stuck to his feet.

The noise broke through your haze, and you turned to look at him. You searched for words, desperate to heal the wound that you knew nothing could fix. 

“Don’t. It’s not your fault Joon.” The man whispers, the sound barely audible. 

You move and put a hand on his arm, wincing through the pain. He steels himself at your touch, roughly rubbing at his eyes and heaves in a deep breath. 

The other man finally snaps his gaze to you, and you’re caught like a deer in headlights. He watches you, mouth agape. His head tilts, and you know he recognises you somehow too. 

Before he can speak though, the tent zip flies open again. 

“Joon, Yoongi.” Jin calls, his voice flat. 

The men pass a silent look to each other before walking to Jin’s tent. You hover, eyes drifting back to the remaining few embers of the fire as you hold your breath. 

It’s so quiet. The wind had dropped off and nature had long since stopped thriving in the new world. Sounds drew the dead, even the animals had learnt the hard way. 

And the silence meant the words from the group reached your ears. 

“Jimin, I’m so sorry. If we didn’t lose Jungkook you would never have been bitten.” You hear Namjoon choke, and you feel the hair on your neck stand up. 

Bitten?

You can’t hear his quiet reply, the sound lost to the confines of the tent. 

“Jimin? Jimin! Please!” You hear Taehyung wail, and your heart shatters. 

The sounds of grief from all of them grow louder, and it threatens to consume you. Your own family, your old group, your past. It was too much. You had to not think about it. You had to move, to feel something else, to not let the grief hold you by the throat and choke you.

You power back to where the walkers lay, and start prodding them with your boot to make sure none would suddenly jump at you. Content with the lack of response, you grab hold of one by the ankles and drag it to a barren outcrop in the grass just off the road. Once the body is in the middle of the patch you drop your hold on it and move back for the others. 

The throb in your ribs was something you relished. Something for you to latch on to so you didn’t have to think or feel. 

At least it was getting lighter. The sun has started to rise between the trees, the blue of the morning fading into something lighter. Maybe it was around 6AM? You couldn’t tell any more. 

You have the second one by the ankles when you hear the tent open. You snap your gaze over to see Taehyung standing with his head tilted back at the sky. 

His hair was completely dishevelled, his dark jumper marred by even darker stains that seemed to drip red down his arms. His skin was ghostly, and you could see the track marks down his cheeks even at this distance. 

It’s only when his eyes snap to you do you realise that you’re staring. You bite your lip hard and return to your task, tugging harder than necessary. The sudden jerk is too much, and the pain brings tears to your eyes. 

You don’t bother stopping it. 

Instead you keep dragging the body until it sits roughly on top of the other one. Not until then do you look up at Taehyung. 

He turns before you can meet his eyes, storming his way past the tents and through the field until he’s through the treeline. 

A pop echoes from the tent, the unmistakable sound of a muffled gunshot. It’s like a punch to the gut.

You push it out and move towards the next body. You work numbly, one step at a time. And the next, and then the next. It’s not until you go back for the last ones do you stop. Namjoon has the last two by the ankle, dragging them to where you had piled the others. 

All you can do is watch. Once he’s piled them, he walks and gets hold of the gas can that sits in the bed of one of the trucks, throwing a small amount on the bodies and getting a matchbox from beside the fire. 

He strikes the match and throws it, waiting for the pile to start burning before turning away. With your eyes on his back, you heave out a heavy sigh. The feeling of helplessness was as sharp as the burn in your side.

With your heart thumping in your chest you turn back to the blaze, tugging your collar up over your nose to ward off the smell. It’s not until the bodies are just a pile of ashes that you finally bring your eyes away. 

You kick some of the dirt in the area at the flames until it finally putters out. The sun was in the sky at this point, the warmth hitting your skin in a way that it felt you hadn't been touched in a long time. It was soft, only mid-morning. 

“Y/N, can I have your help please?” 

You turn to see Jin, his tee crumpled and bloody. He looked bone tired, no doubt working through the night to try and help Jimin somehow. But they can never be saved, that was a fact of the world now. 

With a nod, you kick the last of the dirt and make your way back up the hill to him. He looks even worse the closer you get to him. 

“We need to… bury Jimin.”

“I’m so sorry, Jin.” 

“He’s just… he’s the first. We’d been together since the beginning. All of us. But with Hoseok dead and probably j=Jungkook too, I just…” He trails, his eyes closed and his chin wobbling. 

“What can I do to help?” You offer softly. 

“Keep watch whilst we dig. We all wanna do it so we can get it done quick, and Tae…”

“You don’t have to explain. Of course.” 

He nods and turns, motioning for you to follow. He hands you his axe once more, and gestures once again as he walks away. You follow for a few minutes until you reach a grassy area on a small hill under a willow tree. It was old, reaching high and wide, with just enough clearance under it’s hanging branches for you to walk beneath. 

You can see Namjoon and Yoongi already digging a spot, the grave already shin deep. Jin jumps into the shallow hole with his friends and begins to dig using what looked like a pot lid. It looked like only Namjoon had an actual shovel. Yoongi had a stick that he was breaking the ground with, and would then scoop out the dirt with his hands. It was too much, the rawness of it too hard to bear.

Remembering that Jin once said this was an old camping ground, you begin to scan the area. If this was any decent kind of place, there’d be a small maintenance shed or office. They must have tools somewhere.

“I’ll be right back.” You mumble, taking off before anyone could reply. 

You jog back up to where the tents are, scanning the area until you see it - tucked inside the treeline, looking more like it was part of nature than man made. 

Jogging towards it, you kick at the door, waiting to see if anything stirred inside. When nothing answered, you got hold of the latch and lifted. It took some wiggling and a good shoulder barge, but finally the door swings open. 

You’re met by mostly rust. It seemed to cover everything inside. Dust, too. Idling between rusty lawn mowers and broken sprinkler heads, you finally spot what you were looking for. 

Sitting on the wall was another shovel, and a small gardening trowel just below. It’s better than a pot lid or stick, at least. You pull them down gently, unsure of how sturdy the wall they sit on is. You tuck the trowel in your pocket and grip the shovel with your axe. Making sure you shut the door behind you - and making a mental note to raid it properly in future - you hurry back over the men.

“Here.”

You stop in front of them and drop the shovel, as well as fishing out and dropping the trowel too. 

“Y/N… Thank you.” Jin whispers, watery eyes meeting yours. 

You can’t find words to reply, so you settle for a stiff nod and move to being a look out. You hear the clang of tools but you leave them to it, settling to scan the treeline instead. 

It felt too personal to stand there and watch them. In fact, it all felt too personal. You were intruding on a moment that they all had to share. Maybe you should strike out on your own, give them their space. You didn’t want to get caught up in a group again, anyway. 

You mentally began running through everything you knew about the area- which really, was nothing. Maybe you could get a map off one of them before you went anywhere? At least a look to get an idea. Or maybe you could find somewhere to hole up for a few weeks until you’re better, or at least able to swing your arm without wanting to collapse in pain. It was doable. Very lonely, but that was something you’d grown accustomed to now. 

“Okay, that should be enough.” 

You look back over your shoulder and see Namjoon hoisted out of the grave before he turns and holds out a hand for yoongi. He gets a leg up from the bottom, and once out he and Namjoon turn to offer Jin a hand, lifting him from the pit. That choked you, the existence they had wordlessly carved out together.

“We just need to get him now. And Tae, he should be here for this…” Namjoon sighs, eyes glued to the pit.

“I can get Taehyung.” You offer, though you really don’t want to. 

He’s grieving, you know that. But the man doesn’t like you at the best of times. You have no idea how he’ll react to you, if you’re even able to find him. 

“Thank you.” Yoongi mumbles.

You don’t wait any longer, moving towards the area of trees that you saw Taehyung disappear through hours ago. You twist the axe in your hands as you break through the treeline, high alert rippling through your body. 

After only a small amount of walking did you find what Namjoon had set up in the name of defence. Strings, sitting at only about knee height, running around the perimeter of the camping grounds. These are what must be attached to the tins at the top of the camp, with different roped strings for different sections. It was so simple, yet still impressive. 

With a careful step up you're over the string and back on your way to finding Taehyung. 

The sun was way above you in the sky. It had felt like it had been a week’s worth of days, not just a couple hours. All you ever seemed to do was move on from one tragedy to the next in this new world. You stopped in your tracks, realising you had no idea where you were going. 

Where could he be? There seemed to be miles and miles of forest. He could be anywhere by now. 

You take a deep breath, close your eyes and strain your hearing for any indication of where he could be. It was hard to pick up any noise over the rustle of the forest. But after a while, a few sounds eked in. The rustle of a small animal foraging somewhere to your right, the faint whine of the leaves as they’re jostled in the wind. And more increasingly, the sound of something splintering and breaking. 

With no other leads to find Taehyung, you follow the sound. You grip the axe tighter in your hands, not willing to face the consequences if you’re wrong. 

Another loud bang greets you as you draw near, making you falter in your steps. Perching behind a tree, you peer at the source of the sound- only to have relief flood you when you realise it was Taehyung. You were infinitely grateful he hadn’t wandered far in the hours he’d been away. 

He had been busy though. Splintered trees and branches cover the forest floor, with big chunks of bark hacked out of the trees that still stood around him. He somehow looked worse than the cargaget that surrounded him. 

The jumper he wore was dry, the bloodstains thick across his stomach and chest. The blood that had trickled onto his hands from the clothing had long since dried, red patches surrounding the raw patches of his skin. His hair had a mind of its own, flyaway and messy where he’s been roughly scraping away from his face. Streaks of dirt and mud cover his skin, but his cheeks were clean from the tears that had long since dried. 

You take a deep breath. And then another. Then you stand, letting the axe sit a little more loosely in your hands. 

“Taehyung?” No response.

“Tae?” 

He turns to you but it’s slow, a tightness forming in his shoulders. The look on his face is almost bored as he looks at you quickly, eyes lingering on Jin’s axe in your hand. You steel yourself, your heart beating irregularly as he sizes you up. Maybe the nickname wasn't something for you to use. 

“What are you doing here?” He snaps. 

“They sent me. It’s time to bury him.” you try to keep your voice even, ignoring the barb in his words. 

“What are you, the messenger?”

You don’t reply. That seems to rile him up more. 

“I suppose you helped dig my friend’s grave too, right? You’re a regular member of the group now. Maybe you can even replace Jimin!”

“I’m not here to replace anyone. I just came to tell you what your friends said.” 

“This has gotta be nice though, right? A nice group to settle yourself in after your lonely existence.” He laughs bitterly, dragging his eyes away to look at his shaking hands. 

You bite your lip. You were not gonna rise to it. He’s hurting, you know he is. He wants the fight, he wants to forget the pain and feel something else overtake him. But you weren’t going to be that punching bag. No matter how much he needed it.

“Sure. Just don’t be too long.” The words are as soft as you can make them. 

The division inside you rages. You want to call him out - it’s not your fault this has happened, no matter how much he wants to find someone to put the blame on. But you know he’s hurting, and those words are not his own. He may not like you, but he still saved your life. That has to count for something. 

You turn away, your heart heavy in your chest when you hear a sudden thud behind you. Turning, you see Taehyung on his knees, jumper pulled off as he stares at the bloody clothing in his hands. His shirt he wore underneath had stained too, the cream colour marked with an ugly patch of claret. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” His voice is thick, emotion in every syllable. 

“So am I.” You turn back to face him.

You move to crouch beside him, ignoring the throb in your side. His fingers scrunch the material, as if letting go would mean death. 

“Jimin gave this to me.” His voice is so low you barely hear him, the bite from his voice completely gone. 

“He’s not gonna live on through a jumper, Taehyung.” 

“But I have nothing left of him.” 

His words stew in the air for only a few seconds before he breaks. He tucks his face into the clothing as sobs wracked his body, and all you can do is watch. You put a cautious hand on his back, rubbing smoothing circled into the material of his shirt with your thumb. 

You let him be. He needed to let it out or he’d be choked forever. Your thumb remained in constant motion, and you made sure to keep checking the surrounding areas. There were going to be no more casualties, not if you can help it. 

Slowly his sobs roll out to scratchy heaves, and he rubs at his face with his forearm. He looked like he could sleep for a decade, and god knows he needed it. You take a breath and clear your throat.

“Let's get back. I know some ways that can save your jumper.” 

Without hesitation you grab hold of his hand, gently pulling him to his feet. The blood that marred his skin didn’t phase you, you just had to get him back for all their sakes He follows your lead, letting his fingers link with yours. You follow back the way you came, pace slow as he trails behind you, jumper clutched to his chest. 

Relief flushes through you as you find the string, being careful to step over it and making sure Taehyung does the same. 

Once you’re through the treeline you steer him towards the willow. His fingers flex against yours, and you’re hyper aware of the warmth of his large hand. When the boys are finally in sight you panic, and let go of his hand. 

“Almost there.” you say awkwardly.

He doesn’t reply, but you feel him take your hand again. Your step falters slightly, a strange stirring in your chest blocking out everything else. He keeps walking though, making you the one he’s getting pulled along. 

Namjoon Jin and Yoongi watch you both approach, each looking between you before turning back. 

You see Taehyung stiffen as you both draw closer, so you give his hand a slight squeeze to show that you’re still there for him. Once you’re standing alongside the others, the view down into the grave is all you can see.

At the bottom sits a body shrouded in a black tarp. He looks so tiny down there. You didn’t have to know him to feel the weight of that. 

“There are… no words for this. Nothing that will ever, ever make this right. And I know… I know I’m part to blame for this-”

“Namjoon-” Yoongi starts, but Namjoon barrels on.

“But I promise you here Jimin - and Hoseok, and Jungkook - that I will make sure that never happens again. We were friends, but we will remain a family. Goodbye.” 

“You brightened everything you did. Teasing me, or singing something I thought I'd long forgotten. I’ll never forget you.” Yoongi nods solemnly, his voice a low gravel as his eyes sit on the mound of dirt behind the grave. 

Jin doesn’t speak, his bottom lip caught between his cheeks as he brushes at his eyes with his fingertips.

Taehyung moves to talk, but his words fail him. He draws in a sharp breath, and squeezes your hand tight before he speaks. 

“I… thank you, Jimin. I’ve had a life full of light with you. You will always be with me, and we will survive for you.” His voice is barely audible by the end of his sentence, though you know there are volumes more he wants to say. Maybe you should ask about them all later. Keep these men alive in memories. 

You move your free hand to clasp his hand that holds yours. A juddered breath ripples from his chest, reminding you to breathe too. 

Namjoon moves to the shovel, slowly beginning to push the dirt back into his grave. You watch for a moment, his bloodshot eyes never leaving the tip of the tool. 

Taehyung slips from your grip and steps to the edge. He folds the jumper up carefully, before holding it out and letting it drop down to where Jimin lay. His shoulders shake as he looks down, and you watch on helplessly. 

You wanted to reach out, to tell him he would be okay. But how could you? You didn’t know how it ever would be.

Instead you stepped back, moving your eyes off his figure and dropping by the pile of dirt. Carefully you begin pushing some of the mound back into the grave, careful not to put your body through any more excessive strain. But you hurt nonetheless. 

It didn’t take long when Jin picked up another shovel. The silence was deafening, the soft scrape of the shovel against the gritty soil, and the soft pads of it hitting the tarp below the only sounds. You worked and worked until there was nothing left to move over, just a mound of freshly turned earth and what lay below.

You cast your eyes around the men, helplessness clawing its way through your chest. 

Maybe you should stick around a little longer. 

You watched as Jin and Namjoon bumped into each other as they moved back up to the camp, barely acknowledging the impact. Yoongi had slunk away, long disappearing into his tent. Taehyung stood under the branches of the willow tree, his eyes fixed on the knots in the bark. 

It wouldn’t hurt to help keep them afloat. Just until they can tread water on their own. The resolution took a weight off your shoulders, though you didn’t want to unpack that thought right now.

The rest of the evening is spent helping out where you can. Your body hurt, but you refused to be of no help. You gathered firewood, helped a lifeless Jin prepare food, and silently checked on them as often as you could. Taehyung drifted. He’d sit staring into the flames, and then he’d be suddenly on his feet, listlessly moving down towards the willow again. 

There were no words you could offer, nothing you could do to make it right. You just had to help fill in the spaces where the parts of them couldn’t reach. Keep an eye on the horizons, an eye on the fire, an eye on them. 

Finally you manage to get them into their tents, telling them to get as much sleep as they can. You know they’ll spend hours laying awake, replaying every second together over in their head, a pressure on their chests so heavy it’s suffocating. 

Jin tells you to take his tent once more after giving you some more painkillers. You swallow them gratefully, not bothering to find some water. He was going to stay with Namjoon for the night. They both needed the company, to know the other was still there. Yoongi had been asleep all day, and had got up to keep a silent watch for the night. Taehyung stood at the door of his tent fiddling with the zip, and with nothing else to say, you finally step inside your own private space. 

You unroll your sleeping bag and spread it out on the floor of Jin’s tent. You make a mental note to see about getting your own tent. If you were gonna stay, you needed to give Jin his back. And if you didn’t stay… well, you’d have a tent for the road. 

You kick off your boots and crawl inside the padding, the night air cold against your skin.

Sleep evaded you, leaving you with nothing but your own thoughts to stew on. Specifically Taehyung, but generally everything else too. There was so much, it felt like anything else would lead you to implosion. How can you see this world through when everything in it causes you so much harm?

The words Taehyung had used against you floated around in your head. Maybe there was some truth to it. Were you trying to get in with this group, and purely for selfish reasons? The last few months had been a bitter sort of agony, one you learnt to stringently ignore every waking moment of the day. Alone was how you preferred it. There was less to worry about: noise, people, supplies. But it was painful. And with physical pain thrown into the mix, almost unimaginable. 

And you wouldn’t even delve into the way he held your hand. It had been… so long since you had been touched like that. Starved of it. And despite the way he had treated you in the past, you couldn’t help but feel safe with him? It perplexed you. Those kinds of feeling were not going to be of any help in this world. Write it off and move on, it’s what you had to do. 

Your incredibly loud thoughts were punctured by the sound of the tent zipper sliding up. Fear crashed around you as you sat upright, grabbing hold of your hockey stick and brandishing it.The seconds tick by as the teeth of the zip click, and you realise how trapped you were. You didn’t hear any of the cans rattling, had something still gotten through?

Through the gap steps Taehyung, and the air feels like it’s forced out of your lungs as you lower your hands. You collapse back on the floor, your heart thudding in your throat. 

“Taehyung?” You murmur once you get your voice back. 

“Why have you got your hockey stick?”

You could’ve been undead. Or a looter!” You sit back up, forehead creased as you look at him. 

He stands just inside the tent with something behind his back, and he was chewing on his thumbnail. Was that a nervous tick? Why would he be nervous?

“How were you going to beat me when you’re still fully in your sleeping bag?”

“I… look, what do you need? I don’t know where any of Jin’s things are, if that’s what you’re after.”

“Oh, uh, no- i… iwaswonderingificouldsleephere.” The words are so hushed you barely comprehend what he was saying. 

“What?” 

“I.. uh. I was wondering if I could sleep in here with you. Tonight.” His cheeks are a dark red as he asks, his tired eyes glued to the hockey stick in your hands. 

“Okay.” The words are out of your mouth before you can even consider what you’re agreeing to, but Taehyung plows on regardless. 

“I get if you don’t want me to! I just feel safe, I guess- wait, what did you say?” 

“You can stay here.” You say simply, but he stares at you like you just asked him to tell you the meaning of life. Silence stretches and you shift awkwardly until he finally speaks. 

“Why?”

“... because you asked to?”

“No, I mean, why did you agree?” His voice cracks as he asks, and you ponder his words for a minute. Why did you? But when you think about it, it comes back around to one factor that seems to be plaguing your life lately. 

“It sucks being alone. Especially at times like this.” 

“Thank you, Y/N.” His voice is low, his eyes bright with burning intensity as he meets your gaze.

You say nothing, simply shuffling closer to the edge of the tent. Laying the hockey stick back at your side, you lay back down in your sleeping bag and cuddle up in the little warmth it offered. Taehyung finally moves, zipping up the tent once more and bringing out his sleeping bag from behind his back. 

Hiding your smile under the puff of your sleeping bag, you settle on your side, facing the tent wall. You hear him rustle behind you, and the puff of breeze as he flicks out his bed. 

You hear him settle in down, and finally the world around you sounds deathly quiet once more. But you hear him breathe, steady and deep. 

It was reassuring, something constant for you to focus on. Slowly he seemed to grow restless though, and it isn't until he tosses and turns for the millionth time you roll over and look at him.

You could barely make him out in the darkness, the moonlight hitting the outside of the tent just barely illuminating his silhouette. It was a staggering sight, and you had to focus your attention on his face to stop your mind from fixating. 

“About today…”

Oh. That.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, no. I was nasty, but you were still kind. I’m sorry, I didn't mean what I said.”

“Thank you.” You whisper, your blood thrashing in your veins as you study his profile.

“So… goodnight.”

“Night Taehyung.” 

“Tae’s okay, you know.” His voice was so quiet, a whisper you could barely hear. It made your stomach knot.

You were finally grateful for the darkness so that he didn’t see the way that affected you. You take a soft breath and exhale as smoothly as you can before smiling, even if he can’t see it. This felt like progress, a light in the middle of an endless night. 

“Okay, Tae. Sleep well.” 

You hear him sigh deeply, the air around you stilling. Your mind blanks a little as you turn back around, your eyes blearily focused on the tent wall. It was freeing, almost. The thoughts that were plaguing you had frozen replaced with the awareness of him. His breathing evened out, their depth telling you he had fallen asleep almost instantly. You were unsurprised, he’d had one of the worst days imaginable.

Sleep pulled at you quickly, the air prickling with cold but a prevailing sense of safety trickled over you. Soon the world disappeared, a dreamless night ahead of you. 

Warmth roused you near the morning, the heat of it pressed tightly against your back. But in your tired state, you merely shuffled closer to it and drifted off, paying no thought about where it could be coming from. You simply allowed the warmth to pull you back into a blank slumber once more. 

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