#and legit no pressure to match length i just rambled because feelings

[13thx]

@imafirefly​​ liked this for Ellie

  Jo   He   Joel had obviously believed in life. That living, despite everything - despite the consequences Joel had believed in HER life. That the cure hadn’t been wort- Joel... had been selfish.

Despite knowing that he was condemning hundreds of thousands - maybe even millions or billions - of people, and despite knowing Ellie’s wishes... he had still made the wrong choice. Ellie had never really come to terms with it; she had resented him for so long. His... death had entirely effected that. In those final moments, she wondered, did he know that she forgave him?

...And had it been real forgiveness, if there had been no time left? 

Abby had been searching for the Fireflies, in Santa Barbara. Ellie had never given much thought as to why; too caught up in what she had to do at the time. It was only after spending a few nights at Tommy’s, that she had truly thought it over. The Fireflies had always been about restoring government control; opposing militia - basically, all about happiness and freedom, right? Reverting this shitty world to the world it had been before. The cure was quite the side project, one that clearly failed. But, if the Fireflies had been regrouping, did that mean there were people who believed in the cure again?

That question seemed silly; the only person left to produce any sort of vaccine was dead. But regardless, Ellie had been turning it over in her mind. What if they found someone else? What if the possibility of a cure wasn’t completely lost? There might be someone - maybe in a different country, who was still alive, who had the same talents. Anything was possible. Hell, even a self-educated person could have a fighting chance at saving the world.

Ellie didn’t have Dina. Or JJ. Tommy... was still pushing for an eventual revenge plan. Ellie couldn’t stay. There was nothing for her there, anymore. The Fireflies, if ... if it was even a little bit possible...

And, she needed to find Abby again. This time, she didn’t know why. It wasn’t to kill her. This was more... Ellie following her gut. She was Joel’s killer, and Ellie would never forgive her for that, no matter the reasons - no matter the future. But Abby was also... the one person left, who maybe understood. Maybe. She didn’t know. All she was sure on, was that if they were searching for a cure - Abby should be the first person to talk to about it. 

After all they had been through; after all they had done... yeah. Yeah, she needed to be the one.

“Abby.” Gun wavered a bit; tempting to fire, but Ellie stopped herself, instead raising her hands in surrender. No more fighting, she reminded herself. There was a burning in the back of her throat, and for a second, she really wanted to throw up. This was difficult, for her. Extremely.. difficult. “I just wanna talk.”

[thesecularsaint-blog]

when? | october 12, FRIDAY where? | near the CASTELVECCHIO who? | open to ALL  

Verona was bleeding, and no one was able to stanch its flow. This injury came from the heavens, pounding down in sheets that pelted his cheeks like ricochet. Blood spilled from beneath the bridge, pushing up the streets, insisting that he leave the city alone with her wounds, to let her bleed nobly while seeking a new beginning through destruction of the past.  

The problem was, she refused to die alone. The precinct had been receiving increased reports of people lashing out violently due to hallucinations, and he’d been called in to help contain the unpredictable pandemonium. Some officers believed that it was a result of the rain, zealots crying out that this was a punishment, another beginning of a rain that would refuse to relent for forty days and forty nights. Some were more realistic, stating that people were simply shooting up more now that they were forced to stay indoors. 

Bellamy wasn’t particularly concern with why people were falling apart alongside the city, but he did care about the chaos that might unfold. He stayed closest to the scene of the crime, up to his ankles in water that threatened to pull him under if only it were slightly stronger. His eyes scanned the streets, thankful they were largely empty but feeling oddly on edge, as if there were daggers mixed among raindrops. 

Each step should have been deafening, but the wind screeched with a vengeance. It had already been days of this, yet the gods showed no signs of forgiveness, no desire to let them come up for air. His mind wandered to a night at sea three years ago. Invincible, he’d been then. He’d taken a small boat out on his own, chasing a sunset as red as his past. The waves had snuck up on him, a product of a storm with winds too indecisive to push him anywhere but in circles. He hadn’t been afraid then, because all he had to lose was an evening, maybe himself. 

Tonight, he worried. There were others in danger, most likely needing a guiding light out of the maelstrom. He searched for survivors, for those newly at risk, and he found one, boldly walking down the streets as if Poseidon himself. 

“Hey!” he called, jogging a couple steps to close the distance between them. “You shouldn’t be on the streets tonight.”