#arustysnake

[magmahearts]

TIMING: late august PARTIES: @arustysnake & @magmahearts LOCATION: silver lake SUMMARY: cass comes across oliver sunbatheing near one of the many entrances to her cave, and the two have a chat. CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of parental death

It was just a little break. That would be fine. Absolutely fine. And Silver Lake would have seemed the obvious place for Ollie to take himself… if it weren’t for what Willa whispered, only days ago. Way to ruin a nostalgic summer stop, nana. By sinking his mother’s apparently monstrous, murdered and mutilated body in the middle of it. 

Obviously, that was just another story. Another strange, ridiculous story. Whatever she had to tell herself to manage. Some bizarre sort of coping. Which would be the only kind of coping Willa O’Rourke ever did, and it didn’t run in the family, like certain other things she’d mentioned. So, no, Ollie wasn’t afraid to go to the damn lake. He’d prove that much. Right now. 

Right right now. The walk had always been a quick one - he should mention that to the real estate guy, for the listing - but the lake, he’d swear, hadn’t always been this cold. Ollie just about hissed, legs recoiling with a shocked scatter of bright water. Perched tightly on the edge of that old(er) dock, he scowled into the green-blueness below. In August? Really? Well. There looked to be a bit of sun left, around the far end of the shore; he’d try there. Not that there’d be any sun, for long. Nightfall Grove was just - like that. The way Wicked’s Rest was. 

Retreating to the damp sand, Ollie tugged his shirt back on and started off for the sunshine. With a stubborn shiver. Definitely just because of the cold. Nothing morose or menacing or whatever else about that lazily rippling lake, glimmering in the glow of late afternoon. Not at all. It was nice, out here. Quiet. In a way that damn house never was, with all its creaks and clangs…

Quiet and not that cool, actually, which - Ollie paused, stepped back. Stepped forward, again. He glanced over, way over, to where that sunlight was waiting - still across some lake, and fading fast. But… adjusting the bag and tied-together running shoes slung over his shoulder, Ollie leaned down and laid a hand on the stonier ground he’d come to, trying to make more sense of what his bare feet seemed to be feeling. Maybe he’d just missed the sun, on this side. Must be. It was nice, anyway, that warmth simmering up through the rock of this craggy little cove. That he half-recognized, maybe? His head tilted, wondering, as he headed further up the bank. Wasn’t there a cave around here, someplace? And a dusty memory of a dare he’d actually won, slipping easily through some crevice while the rest of them hung back, muttering about how close they were to the Flat. Not nearly as close as his home, with those weird, flinty walls. It was just rocks. Like the lake was just a lake. And there, there it was; looked smaller, now, the way the walk to the lake felt shorter. When had he last been down here? Years and years and years. 

Leaving his things on the just-rocks, Ollie slithered on down a worn-smooth stone slope to the shore. The water was warmer, too. Sunsoaked, obviously. Perfect. Shin-deep in the shallows, he laced his fingers, popped a couple aches out of someplace between his bones, and kicked back. Literally, wll the way, cracking his neck. Metaphorically, mostly; he measured out a sigh, counting off his to-dos. But. That old house wasn’t going to turn into more of a mess if he left it alone for an hour or two. Probably. He’d keep it quick. Just in case. 

The cave system the Magmacave was a part of, the one that Cass had claimed as her own without any volcanoes to properly satiate her, had openings all over town. She used them to get around, sometimes, traveled through them in a way that let her pretend she had her own private tunnels around Wicked’s Rest. It was nice — it made her feel as though she had something that was undeniably hers for the first time in her life.

And the caves reacted to her as much as she reacted to them, too. They shifted, adjusted. They went from being cold and damp, the way caves usually were, to being warmed by her presence. Maybe the Abnormality had something to do with it — that was one thing that every cave in this system seemed to have in common, after all. The Abnormality ran through it, growing on the walls and on the ground, familiar even in its unfamiliarity. Maybe it was that that warmed the caves, or maybe it really was just Cass’s presence. She didn’t know enough about oreads to really know for sure, hadn’t been taught the way most nymphs were taught to comprehend or understand what she was. All she knew was what she felt. 

And in these caves, in her caves, she felt safe.

She spent a lot of time exploring them. When people were busy (because her friends had jobs and school and that was okay, really, because the less time they spent with Cass the longer it would take them to grow tired of her, anyway), she was here. Wandering through the caves, leaving little pieces of herself in each opening in order to make sure everyone knew that this system was claimed. The run in with the lampade a few months back still had her on edge, territorial in a way she didn’t like but couldn’t help. So she left rock structures in cave openings, the kind that spoke of some intelligent being having a presence there. Other nymphs, she hoped, would get the message. And people who weren’t nymphs would hopefully be spooked enough to stay away. In a town like Wicked’s Rest, most people were… understandably cautious.

Most people. Not all.

She could feel him wandering around. He felt… colder than people usually did. Undead, maybe? She didn’t usually notice — she could only really feel people like this if they were very close to her or if they ventured into her domain, but right now, this man was both. She didn’t think he saw her against the wall, and she watched him for a moment. Was he freezing? It seemed odd in August, even if Maine wasn’t the warmest of the states. But… no. He was settling down in the sun, lounging on a rock like a reptile or a cat.

Curiosity got the better of her. She wandered over, watching him a moment longer before speaking. “What are you doing?”

Slouched into the stretch, Ollie let his legs sink a little further into the slow roll of the water, churning in and out of the inlet. His eyes drifted shut, softly; he left them like that, rolling his shoulders, flattening against the warmth of those rocks as much as he could. 

Until a voice sent him bolting upright, staring and startled. How hadn’t he noticed somebody coming along the beach? At all? His head cocked, and he set his elbows on his knees, slinging his fidgety hands together. With a baffled sort of smile. What did it seem like he was doing? Sitting by a lake, on a summer afternoon, that was very, very normal. Wasn’t it? (Even in Nightfall Grove. If you were a local, anyway.) Still. Really. The question was the stranger thing. 

“Nothing? Actually.” Absolutely nothing, for the first time in… months, maybe. Well, his kind of absolutely nothing, which meant thinking all over. About rebuilding the porch, and something he’d seen someone saying about a moose on the loose in the Row, and when admin would actually tell him what the hell he was teaching so he could start getting things together for the fall, and the fall, God, how close it was... Ollie’s left thumb slid over where his spinner ring should’ve been, on his right. But he’d been dismantling said porch, all rotten, stripped wood and carpenter ants, before he headed out. So. He hooked a finger through that ring, strung with the others on the chain hanging down his chest. And frowned. Curiously. “Did you…” Come out of the caves? No; no. Maybe? Where else? “Were you down there?” He pointed past her, up to where the cove rose and peeled open into that jagged little rift in the ridgeside. Talk about strange. At least, that’s what most people would say…

He looked pretty relaxed. Like he was about to melt into that rock, become a part of it the way Cass had seen oreads do in the past. But this guy wasn’t an oread — she would have known. He wasn’t fae at all, though that didn’t mean he was human, either. She could rule a few things out, she guessed. Not a vampire, since vampires weren’t big fans of sunbathing. Probably not a mare — Leila didn’t seem to like the day much, either. But… he could be just about anything else, couldn’t he?

There was some excitement in the not knowing, even if logic dictated that he was probably just human. Humans were exciting, too, after all. Cass had always longed to know more about them, to understand them. This one was no different. Did all humans like laying in the sun like this? She’d seen plenty of it from the tourists back in Hawai’i, sure, but there were definite differences there, right? This lake didn’t strike her as the kind of place where people would hang out alone. (Most places in Wicked’s Rest weren’t places where anyone should hang out alone.) 

“Hmm,” Cass responded thoughtfully. He was just doing nothing? That was strange, wasn’t it? People were usually doing something. Or they said they were doing something, even when they weren’t. She watched him play with the rings hanging around his neck, wondered about them but didn’t ask. Mostly because his curiosity was kicking in now. Cass glanced back to the cave with a shrug. Telling a direct lie would give her a stomachache, and she didn’t really want to deal with that right now. “Yeah,” she replied, opting for the truth. “I was exploring. The caves here are really cool.”

Was nothing a more suspicious answer than something? Probably. Almost definitely. Ollie spun that ring, head propped on his other hand, elbow on his knee. Just wondering right back at her. Against his better judgment, possibly. Which was how most wondering went, around here.

“Mhm? I bet.” Totally. Really cool. That’s what caves, here, would be. Fascinating! Until a gigantic centipede (or something) literally ate your face off your skull. Or, or, or. “Never went too far. Personally.” Who would? He hesitated; then, because it seemed like some sort of due diligence: “You’ve… probably heard they’re dangerous? Incredibly dangerous.” By local standards, which was saying something. Then again. “What cave isn’t! Really. People tell all these stories, around here.” He gave his head a shake, had a short, tired laugh. Then turned a little more, that wonder getting the better of him. Too long spent with just his exceptionally aloof cats, for company, maybe. “Do they, do the tunnels… I guess they’ve gotta pass through the -” Abnormality always seemed so… sensational, out loud. “Flat?” Ollie circled a finger in the general direction of that still sea of darkly rippled rock, just visible beyond the trees and a couple lanes of the Grove’s old-fashioned roofs. “Somewhere, in there? Or do you… leave that alone? When you’re exploring.” Most people would. Even winnowed down to most of the people who’d go - quite casually, it seemed - caving in Wicked’s Rest. 

For a moment, with the way he was laying on the rock, she deluded herself into believing that he might… understand her, somehow. As much as a probably-human would be capable of understanding her, at least. No one but another oread could really comprehend Cass’s fondness for caves and cliff faces, but it was nice to think that someone might. 

But he seemed so hesitant about the caves, and that hope died in her chest before it could ever really take flight at all. She shifted with a sigh, shrugging a shoulder. “They’re only dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.” To humans, maybe even to nymphs who weren’t oreads, the caves were daunting. She knew that. She’d seen plenty of bodies spread throughout, stumbled across bones picked clean and corpses still decomposing. People and animals died in the caves often, but Cass wouldn’t. The stones on the walls were a part of her. Didn’t he get that? At his question, she nodded. “It’s all around.” Crawling up the walls, suspended on the ceiling. The Flat, the Abnormality, the whatever name you wanted to call it, it was a strange comfort. It felt like ‘almost-home,’ volcanic but not volcanic. It was part of what drew Cass here, to Wicked’s Rest. “I hang out next to it sometimes, but I’ve never touched it or anything.” It didn’t want to be touched, she thought. Not everything did. Most things didn’t, actually, though most people tended to refuse objects such grace.

If you don’t know what you’re doing. What was anyone really doing, going underground in Wicked’s Rest? Avoiding Wicked’s Rest. In the warm and the quiet, with no one asking you how you were, yes, doing, these days, and no appointments to keep, no paperwork to file in perfect order…

Sounded pretty nice, actually. Subterranean horrors, alleged and otherwise, aside. 

Ollie had tipped his head in some sort of agreement, at least. He realized, a little belatedly - God, he was worn out - that his eyes had tracked to those cracked-open stones, the total blackness waiting on the other side of them. Deep, from what she was saying. Riddled with the Abnormality, all around, a dark deeper than the loss of any light, clinging and crawling along the walls… 

Blinking, Ollie looked back to this spelunking stranger. Who’d done however much wandering in those caves without ever laying a finger on the Flat. He winced. “Mm. Me either. Just seems -” What did it seem? That… his chain of rings clinked as his hands whirled, searching and failing to come up with words for it. That way he could feel the Flat on his skin from across those familiar rooms. Under his skin. Not the heat of it, exactly, but maybe? Something radiant, and… ridiculous. He gave up. “Better, not to?” That’d do. “But, ah, it’s actually, it’s inside the house I grew up in. Really. If you go out one of the top floor windows, you’re - well, you’re walking on the Flat. My mom used to have picnics there, when she was a kid. Great-granddad liked it for sunbathing.” That grimace had smoothed out; he could just about hear Willa wheezing with laughter, spinning story after story. His eyes had strayed to that not-so-distant dark sweep of whatever the Abnormality actually was. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She’d been next to it; maybe that wouldn’t be such a strange thing to say, to someone who’d seen it like that. “The sheen, all the colors? I must’ve tried to paint that about a thousand times. Just can’t get it right.” And forget photographs. They never did that iridescence, that flow of rainbow, any kind of justice. 

Maybe she’d mistaken exhaustion for relaxation before. The more she looked at him, really looked at him, the less ‘at ease’ he really looked. There was something heavy weighing on him, she thought, something that had him looking at the mouth of a cave like it might be an escape route. Cass wasn’t sure she liked that. She didn’t know him well enough to want him in her cave.

“Better not to,” she agreed. She wasn’t sure what it was about the Abnormality that threw her off, but something about it was strange. Maybe it was the feeling of almost-home that came with the sulfuric nature of the Flat, the way it was ‘almost but not quite’ something familiar. Or maybe it was the way it felt vaguely unnatural, like something that didn’t quite belong. The idea of touching it, of someone else touching it, it didn’t sit right with her. If it was natural, it deserved to be left alone. If it wasn’t, it was too dangerous to touch. Either way, wandering hands should stay far, far away.

Her interest was piqued, however, at the mention of the Abnormality inside his house. “Really?” Living in a house with a rock growing throughout probably wasn’t much different than living in a cave, was it? Maybe he wouldn’t think she was strange for her chosen living arrangements, then. “It is pretty. But… all minerals are. And stones. I don’t think anyone has ever gotten any of them right.” Paintings, sketches, photographs — all of them always seemed to be missing something. None ever compared to the real thing.

Really? Was a common enough response to the O’Rourke house. That tone, though - wondering, rather than vaguely to seriously disturbed - that wasn’t the usual. She wasn’t very usual, though. Or a local, possibly. A Rester would say it the other way. Really?

“Really. It’s just - part of the place.” By design. His family hadn’t built around the Abnormality; they’d built against it. If they’d been around town before Bleak Point was eaten by all that sort-of rock, it might’ve been defiance that put the idea in their head. As it was… well, Ollie couldn’t fathom it any more than their understandably, reasonably distant neighbors. 

(What Willa had said, that actual explanation she’d always washed over and changed around as she liked - well, it hadn’t made any real sense. Not real sense.) 

Some strong opinions about geology, and depictions thereof. Interesting. He’d had rock kids, before; she was… close, to kid-ness? He’d guess? A little older, maybe. Young. Wary. Which was a little funny, given she’d just stepped out of that pit without any special spelunking anything, no headlamp, no… nothing out of the ordinary, at all. She could’ve been taking a stroll on the boardwalk, not through one of the strangest cave complexes in the country. Or anywhere, maybe. Then again - that wariness. People were every bit as unpredictable as some crumbling, creeping-with-hermit-crabs cave. Worse, really. 

Ollie nodded, chin propped on his palm. Only briefly, before his hands got talking again. “They’re a wonderful challenge, though. Absolutely. The textures are one thing, but the - the luster, how translucent they are, the way they catch the light? Crazy-making,” he beamed. And wondered how long it had been, exactly, since he’d painted anything besides examples. No, actually; he’d wonder at her, instead. “Have you tried? I mean, loving something does a hell of a lot for any art you make of it. I’d say.” Of course, that hell could be the worse kind, too. But. How loaded could a few geological studies be?

(As if he hadn’t avoided the corner of the attic where all his might be stored. If Willa hadn’t actually put them and every other canvas he’d left stacked up there in the woodstove, like she’d told him, years ago. Seeing as he was moving on.)

There was some respect building up in her chest for this strange man, some odd sense of unity. She didn’t know what to think of the Abnormality, but she liked that this man didn’t seem to be afraid of it. She liked that he wasn’t running away from it or avoiding it, that he seemed to respect what it was and what it stood for and its place in the world. 

He seemed to understand a lot, really, which was rare for someone who wasn’t an oread. The way he spoke about other rocks was similar to how he spoke about the Abnormality — with appreciation and a quiet respect. She liked that about him. She thought she might like to see some of his paintings, too, even if they didn’t quite capture the true visage of the stones he was trying to paint.

“I’m not much of an artist,” she replied with a shrug. “I have friends who are, though.” She thought of Metzli, Nora, and Ren, of how they could all create beautiful works of art seemingly without even thinking. Cass had always been jealous of that. Her fingers were clumsy and uncertain, stones not built for works of art. “I’d like to see some of yours, though, if you ever wanted to show me.”

Not much? He’d heard that, before. So often. Not much of a painter, a sculptor, a musician, an actor. And so on. As if those artist friends - it was, so often, the ones with artist friends - had somehow set the bar to entry just too high to scramble over. Must be this artistic to make anything worth existing. Worth the cost of making it at all. Worth the time. Worth taking any joy and pride and wonder in. 

“I don’t know that anyone has to be ‘much’ of an artist to enjoy it,” Ollie considered, lightly. “So if you do - well. That’s the important thing.” A beat, then, because he wasn’t in the classroom yet: “Fuck the rest, you know?” As for his, all that, a shrug snaked across his shoulders. “Oh, there’s… not much of that left, anywhere. I think. It’s been a while.” So long. Since anything old he’d done here, and anything new he’d done anywhere. In the fall, though? Maybe? There’d be samples to do up, of this assignment and that. They’d be… something. “But - I’m sorry, we never really did names, did we? Oliver. Hi, hello. Nice to meet you!” He waved, brightly, from his spot. It was a good spot. And that wariness she had about her - seemed better not to close that distance, either. If she figured rocks out to be left a little room, seemed some sort of sensible to presume she liked the same. No problem. On the off chance that she was a cave-dwelling terror. Clearly a possibility he’d do well to keep in mind. With all the other bullshit he’d heard, growing up here and nearly, not-quite managing to actually leave. Ever…  

It was a nice thought, wasn’t it? That something only had to exist in order to have value, that it didn’t have to be good, it only needed to be. For someone like Cass, who’d spent all her life existing and existing and existing and still not being enough, it felt a laughable thought to believe in. But this man said it with such certainty, like he really believed it. And he liked to lay out on rocks, and he wasn’t afraid of the Abnormality, and he looked kind of cool, so maybe it was enough if he believed it was enough. Maybe she could get behind that.

She smiled, shrugging a shoulder. “Sure,” she agreed, the word flowing off her tongue with ease, “fuck them.” But she shifted a little as he admitted that he didn’t have any of his own work to show off, wondered how he could encourage her to make something when he’d evidently gotten rid of his own creations. “Maybe you should start making more, then,” she suggested, a little hesitant. She didn’t want to seem pushy, didn’t want to be too much. “Oh, sorry. I guess that’s kind of rude of me, huh? I’m Cass. It’s nice to meet you, Oliver.” She punctuated the introduction with a small grin. 

Well, that was - a point. Ollie tapped a finger in the summer-evening air as if he were nailing the idea down. Bit hypocritical, wasn’t it? (Students always caught that kind of thing. God. School was so close, somehow.) He brushed her apology away, anyhow. “We got there. Eventually. Better late than never, right?” Cass. Cass the caver. The rock kid. The not much of an artist, allegedly. 

Knuckles bridged, Ollie gave those a crack. Just… coming up with something. Something small. Because why not? Really. (He could have started listing reasons, if he kept thinking. Overthinking.) “You ever done an art trade, Cass?” Probably not, if she thought so seemingly little of her work. But… “That way, we’re both giving the whole thing another go. And we have to actually stick with it. Which is the hardest part, sometimes?” For him, anyway. There was always that moment when a thing stopped turning out. Where whatever he did to fix the problem just made everything worse. Somehow. Better to start over. (Or not.) He’d thrown it out there, anyway. Gently. “Just an idea! If you’d like.”  

“Sure. Manners are totally overrated, anyway.” In a town like this one, it would be better if he did believe that, probably. Cass wouldn’t leave him unbound if he thanked her, regardless of how much she might like to pretend she would; she was still a little selfish, when it came to things like that. But most other people in this town wouldn’t, either. And if he ran into that guy from the BMV? He’d be better off not introducing himself.

He seemed to be thinking about something, and Cass leaned forward in careful anticipation. “An art trade?” It seemed like a simple enough concept — give something, get something. As a fae, Cass was plenty familiar with trades in general. They were typically one-sided… and this one would be no different. She wasn’t an artist, and he was. Obviously, whatever she offered him wouldn’t be up to par with what she got in return. But… That made it even harder to say no. “That sounds fun,” she allowed, grinning a little. “I bet we could both stick it out if we knew we were doing it for someone else.”

Totally? Ollie waffled a hand at that, now. Kids today, and so on. Then again, it was his grandmother who’d always warned him about being too thankful, or giving his name away, or inviting the wrong people in…

(Naturally, Willa had somehow managed to make the third and most normal of those childhood lessons especially unfathomable. Have you met them by daylight? Have you seen them eat? Have you checked their feet, are they right? You’ll know. But he hadn’t known, and like so many other O’Rourke oddities, his grandmother’s sense of etiquette had fared poorly when he’d finally got to leave homeschooling behind.)

But. “That’s the idea! And the spirit of the thing.” With a solid nod, Ollie threw a double thumbs up - then circled his fingers to take in that cave’s little corner of Silver Lake. “Why don’t we meet back here, when we’re set? At the… end of September?” He threw out, loosely. Should be settled into that new courseload by then. That new courseload, which was his only real concern, at the moment, future-plans-wise. Definitely. “The wonderful fall weather of Maine permitting, of course,” he tacked on.

She wondered how much Ollie knew about this town. It wasn’t a rare thing to wonder, when meeting new people. Wicked’s Rest was chalk full of oddities, but a lot of people seemed capable of writing them off as if they were nothing to be concerned about at all. As if it was normal, as if it was to be expected. People said ignorance was bliss but, in this town? Ignorance was a lot more likely to be death.

But not right now. Not for Ollie. Cass made a mental note to keep an eye out for him, to make sure he was okay. He was kind and nice and that was rare not just in Wicked’s Rest, but in the world at large. Cass had seen far more cruelty than she had kindness, and she firmly believed that the latter should be rewarded whenever it was present. Ollie was kind. He shouldn’t suffer for that.

“End of September,” she echoed, nodding her head with determination. “Okay. I can do that.” She’d enlist Metzli or Nora to help her. Both were good artists, and surely one of them would be capable of helping her construct some art worth trading. “I’ll meet you here at the end of September, and we’ll do a trade. Okay? But… you should probably stay out of the water around then. It’ll be a lot colder.” She flashed him a grin.

“Deal. Here, the thirtieth, noon? So we’ve got the natural light, if we’re lucky. Perfect for a gallery showing.” All set. Well - no, any actual supplies around the house would’ve been tossed with his work, wouldn’t they? He’d just stay late in the art room. As if he wouldn’t be staying late already. It’d be fine. What time was it? Not as late as it seemed, ever, not in the Grove. Should get going, all the same. The house, for all it was supposedly capable of, wouldn’t fix itself. 

With a roll-crack of his shoulders, Ollie stood and stepped back out of the inlet, leaving dark tracks on the stones as he glanced up at that warning, sure of his footing. (Almost like he’d been coming here all - most, of his life.) He met Cass’s grin with a smirking sort of grimace, nose-wrinkled, dimples drawn in. “Mm. Yeah. Seems like drysuit season started yesterday.” Gathering up his bag - unread book, unused beach towel, untouched staff handbook and onboarding paperwork - he threw a mock-sharp look at the gloomening lake. That softened fast, and he turned back to Cass and the cave beyond her, ignoring whatever had just unsettled, low in his guts, and squirmed its way around his heart. Another story. “You take care, hey?” It was already a cold kind of world, after all… 

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @arustysnake, @realmackross TIMING: Around 12 AM, September 10th. SUMMARY: Oliver decides to go for a late night grocery run. Unfortunately for him, the only other customer currently shopping is a very, very hungry Mackenzie. WARNINGS: Unsanitary tw, gore tw, vomit mention tw (nothing actually happens, but there is a mention of it), murder mention tw (rip kim k.) PREVIOUS THREADS: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - Current.

Soft jazz rang out over the speakers as the doors slid open to an empty grocery store aside from a stoner kid who definitely didn’t want to be working. The fluorescent lights made everything brighter than it needed to be and almost hurt the shambling zombie's eyes as she entered the building with little effort. There had been no set goal on Mackenzie’s journey of wreaking havoc and consuming whatever was in her path. She just needed to feed and that was it.

Making her way down the aisles aimlessly bumping into things and knocking them off the shelves had caused a mess, but the kid up front had been lost in his own world listening to heavy metal not paying a bit of attention. The one thing that seemed to piss Mackenize off though was a cardboard cutout of Kim Kardashian that seemed to have gotten in her way. Growling with frustration, the zombie leaned forward and bit into the face of the smiling figure only to spit out the paper person in disgust with no sustenance to be found. And instead of waiting for Kim to fight back, she pushed the cutout down and walked over her, resuming her journey through the store.

—

How. How. Had he run out of… so much. Ollie had tried to write an actual list - his phone hadn’t charged, of course; the outlets were just that unpredictable, such a fun guessing game - before heading out, bleary-eyed. It was way too late for anyone to be walking around, nevermind along Worm Row. Even the locals didn’t wander at this hour. But he was, for some reason, too hungry to care. That’s what he’d been, the last few days. Hungry. He hadn’t quite placed it, at first, somehow; hard to, maybe, among all the other pinches and pangs he’d caught sleeping on a beat up mattress, on the floor, when he wasn’t tearing apart that old house from timbers to tiles. But tonight, sleepless and losing the argument with himself as to how tired he was, how he really ought to just be able to pass out and rest, please, he’d attempted to midnight snack himself to sleep. And found the fridge… weirdly bare. 

So. Fine. Problem-solving. That’s what he was doing, standing, in an absolute daze, in the tiny dairy etc. aisle, wondering why there were no more eggs. Scuffing a hand over his 2AM shadow, Ollie - found the eggs. In his basket. The last three dozen in the store. Apparently. God. Shambling on to… whatever was next, he rocked to a stop. There was a, some sort of - noise? Not the elevator-grade ambience fizzing on the speakers. Like… 

Cardboard, tearing? An art room noise. And growling? Not, typically, an art room noise. The cardboard that slapped to the floor several aisle-ends ahead. The growling - followed. Dredging up, it seemed, out of the chest of a woman who could, genuinely, horribly, be called cadaverous. White-knuckled, staring, Ollie froze. In the freezer section. He just - he couldn’t move. Something, low down in the back of his ringing skull, seemed very, very sure that was the best thing to do; Ollie couldn’t have explained the case it made, exactly, but. It was compelling, all the same.

—

The smell of fresh meat had caught Mackenzie’s dull senses and made her mouth water. Stumbling around aisle after aisle, inching closer and closer to what was going to be a tasty snack, she had her sights set on one thing. The meat department. The open cooler full of freshly cut steaks, chicken, and pork looked like a dream come true to an endlessly hungry zombie, and it was easy prey. The hardest part would be getting the tender morsels out of the plastic wrap, which she quickly found to be a challenge.

One by one, she picked up the containers of meat and bit into them, only to be stopped by endless after endless plastic wrap. With each package of meat she couldn’t open up, Mack’s frustration grew, and the harder she threw down the steaks, chicken, and pork onto the floor. The meat was piling up, but finally with enough anger and the one cell that seemed to be functioning in her brain, she managed to open up a package.

Pulling the large roast out of the plastic wrap and off the foam tray, Mackenzie bit into the meat and started gnawing on it. It was juicy, but not as tender as she had anticipated. Still it tasted like satisfaction, and she longed for more. With one successful snack obtained, she managed to pull off the next piece of plastic shrink-wrapped around a $22 t-bone steak. Her absolute favorite. And without any hesitation, began chewing on the red meat until she was cleaning the bone. 

—

The, well, meaty smack of tray after slightly gnawed tray hitting the tiles was only getting louder. And with it, some of the downright animal terror that’d wired Ollie in place started to snap, a strand at a time. His hand flickered to his back pocket, which was - empty. Shit. Because, right, his phone might be charging, blocks away. Couldn’t get an ambulance. Which… that’s what he should do, right? There had to be something wrong. 

So wrong. The plasticky squeak-rip of the wrapper peeling off a blood-swollen hunk of beef ran down his spine. Not like nails on a chalkboard; like nails, on skin. Those nails Willa had left thrown around in the cellar, rust-crusted, scraping before they gashed. He’d managed to slither a half-step back, soundlessly. Still staring, wide-eyed. Now, now she was just - eating it. Obviously. What else would she have been trying to do, besides tear into a raw, seeping, cooler-cold roast? Just. With her teeth. Obviously.

(He should move. Quick as that petrified, sensible skitter crawling up and down his spine. But she was just - she wasn’t well, to say the fucking least. And besides that checked-out clerk, there was nobody else around to do anything. And, and if everything Willa’d told him was true, which it wasn’t, and being something wrong got his mom murdered, which it hadn’t, then…)

“Can I help you?” He rasped, words forming faster, at this god awful hour, than the better judgment that would’ve definitely stopped them cold. “Is there anything you could… use a hand with?” Ollie tried again, wincing as those teeth tore at a waxy clump of gristle and crunched it down. “Anybody we could call?” At the desk. Which seemed so, so far away; he craned his neck a little, risking a quick glance towards the till, way down the aisles. 

—

Mackenzie continued to rip and gnaw. Chew and snack. Blood ran down her chin from the deep bites she was consistently taking from package after package of meat, now that she was able to actually open them up. That also meant that the meat on the floor would be next. It was a smorgasbord of delicious cuts. Organic meat. Cheap meat. Even vegan meat - that she didn’t like too well, and upon first bite, flung it halfway across the store. She had sausages, roasts, and steaks. Pigs feet, tripe, liver. You named it, and she ate it as quickly as she could get her hands on it. Yes, Mackenzie was in pure meaty bliss, until…

The quivering voice drew her attention away from her feast. And looking up at him slowly, mid-bite and still chewing, her glazed eyes grew wide and a breathy, demented gasping noise left her mouth; a current bite of meat dropping to the floor with a string of drool to follow. The already cut and prepackaged meal was tasty, but there was nothing like a fresh and very alive human.

Dropping what was currently in her grimey little hands, Mack slowly started moving forward with arms outstretched - cute dead grabby hands coming his way. Her eyes, though hollow and a milky white color, looked like an adorable and curious baby animal longing to explore what was right in front of it. But the bared teeth and growling said otherwise.

—

He absolutely could not help them at all. 

Ollie knew that, now, should’ve known, but. If he was lucky, he’d be out of here and behind every deadbolt on the O’Rourke door very, very soon, and then, only then, he could tear himself all the new ones his currently jackhammering heart desired. So long as whatever the hell all this was didn’t tear him a few first. 

Those eyes. He’d seen eyes like those before - on the rotting corpse of a deer he’d slipped and stumbled through on Lyssa’s Peak, years and years ago. Gauzy, bleak marble-eyes, staring out of a withering head, over black lips curled to bare baby-white teeth. It was hardly more than a fawn, its moldering fur still spotted under squirming clusters of hungry worms; he’d been hardly more than ten, skinned from the wild, gravelly fall. And heaving, nearly elbow-deep in its stinking, empty-sackish gut, where his hand had burst through as he finally skidded to a stop at the bottom of the hill. His fingers had torn away slimy, the juices of the thing gone thick and dark. Ollie hadn’t made a sound, then. Not until he scrambled back to the top of the fucking hill, and threw up - again, somehow - so hard he couldn’t help crying. And crying, God, red-hot with the mortification of it all. He didn’t say a word when he got home. Couldn’t. Never have been allowed outside again, probably ever. 

None of that was the fawn’s fault. Obviously. Maybe it wasn’t hers, either. But Ollie was dead-silent, again,  - dead, she looked fucking dead - besides the smash of those cartons of eggs and everything else he had in his basket shattering across the floor as he dropped it all, lurched backwards, and ran.

—

Mackenzie had her sights now set on one thing and that was the man that had currently turned and ran from her. What was it with people and running from her? If she could express herself in any way, she’d probably have let out a heavy sigh of frustration - comical at best, as if to say, here we go again. Why did she always have to work for her meals? The best thing she had come across had been the deer carcass on the road, before she had faced a man who was determined to saw her head off with a dull blade. It was just getting ridiculous at this point, but nevertheless, the power of the Flats drove her forward with a determination like no other. She just lacked the speed and coordination sometimes.

Much like an episode of Scooby Doo, Mackenzie made it a point to weave in and out of every aisle with her dirty, blood and glitter covered hands trying to grab anything that she could eat, mostly the only man in the store running from her; all while the kid at the front still had no clue that his store was being trashed to a heavy metal soundtrack that only played through his earbuds. Instead, they got the soft, but inspired jazz solo that rang out through the entirety of the store while boxes and jars crashed and broke with each wobbly bump into the shelves that the hungry zombie had made.

Finally, as if Lady Luck was on her cold, dead side, Mackenzie caught up to her prey and with a tight forceful grip, yanked him back and laid her blood stained veneers into his shoulder as hard as she could. Growling and yanking back, she tugged until his shirt ripped and she had managed to pull out a chunk of fresh flesh from his body. The warm and tender meat had tasted so much better than the store bought cuts laying in a messy, bloody pile on the floor in the back of the store, and she knew she had to have more. She wasn’t going to let him get away this time!

—

How loud was whatever the hell that kid at the front was listening to? He’d yelled, hadn’t he? Shouted - something? Couldn’t say. Ollie’s world had closed into the glare of the fluorescents, the scatter of swept shelves, his own bolting sprint, and the wet-mouthed snarl rattling down the nape of his neck, it seemed. It was. A freakishly strong hand smashed the air out of his lungs, slamming against the back of his ribs and tearing at a fistful of his flannel. His sneakers skidded, his arms flailed, he caught hold of a shelf. A hold he lost to the hard, hungry grip of whatever that lady was. 

(Sick. Strung out. Something.) 

And then - then he was in those teeth, shearing at wiry muscle and grating along bone and he was silent, still, fighting to get that lost breath back. Fighting with a rip and roll that left her with a mouthful, a mouth, full, of his shoulder, and a bundle of camping aisle firewood in his clenched-tight fingers, the zap strap digging in deep. Until it snapped. Because he’d hit her with it, blindly, wildly. Just slung the stack back and around as hard as he could, stomach churning, the smell of his own blood and the whole goddamn meat department and who knew what else she’d been eating roiling down the back of his throat. Fingers sticky - bloody? Bloody - on that barely-held-together firewood, Ollie staggered down the aisle, panting, staring. He’d hit her.

Hard enough? 

She’d been eating him.

—

Mackenzie wanted more. She needed more. Oh how she needed more of his sweet, sweet flesh. But when she went in for a second nibble she felt something hard smack her upside the head. Hard enough that she’d faltered. Hard enough to send her backwards and to the ground as splintered wood stuck out of her face leaving her wounded and panting loudly. But just like before, when the man with the knife had knocked her to the ground, she rolled around clumsily trying to find her footing. This time slipping on the blood that had dripped to the floor from her meal that was now fleeing away from her yet again. But she couldn’t find a way up, and instead, her one brain cell told her to crawl.

Pulling forward through the muck on the floor; scattered firewood, glass, and random bits of flesh and other bits and bobbles, Mackenzie used her arms to guide her towards the front. She hadn’t seen where her wounded walking nuggie had gone, but it didn’t matter. The moment was ruined. The meat in the back hadn’t even satisfied her craving anymore. No, she wanted fresh meat. And not some scrawny kid that looked like a twig with arms and a head.

—

She was still going. Even with a face full of splinters and bones that weren’t put together quite so neatly as they used to be. The tattered plastic just-holding that firewood together tore completely apart as Ollie turned away from the horrible sight of her, reaching, dragging. He stumbled around the scattered pine, but didn’t stop. Not for anything, Jesus. Until he was passing the cash register, swerving across the counter to sweep a bloody, shuddering hand right in the way of that neckbearded clerk. 

Who didn’t so much as take his goddamn airpods out as he blinked, slowly. And stepped back, holding the broom he’d been air-guitaring across. Hadn’t noticed a thing. Couldn’t. At this hour. In Worm Row. In Wicked’s Rest. Like there was nothing, at all, to be scared of. 

Ollie, wide-eyed, head light and hollow besides the roiling, animal panic bursting away like a crate of Roman candles, simply stared back for a moment. And shook, and dripped blood on the countertop ,and the floor, his shirt reefed apart, his shoulder gnawed open. “Dude,” the twentysomething scowled. At the mess, spattered all over the candy bars and gum, the fliers. Ollie might’ve had something - a lot of something, a hell of a lot - to say, like sorry, or run, or what the fuck!, or help, if he weren’t desperately trying not to puke, grey-faced. And if he hadn’t heard another of those growls. The clerk’s head had swiveled with his, at least; Ollie didn’t stick around to see what the guy made of whatever the hell he’d been missing. The door, streaked with red, screeched open as he tore through, and slammed shut, far behind him. Not far enough, though. Not yet. 

—

Mackenzie slowly pulled herself towards the front, but it was a much longer trek than just shambling along. The blood trail had led her back to the entrance of the store where the confused and wide-eyed kid stood dumbfounded; his eyes shifting to her as she made her way along. Not paying any attention to him, she finally found her footing again and shambled out into the cool night air. Eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness after the bright fluorescents had taken over her hazy view, the zombie felt her stomach rumble at the longing for another hardy meal.

Mackenzie held her head up and looked towards the sky, not really looking at anything in particular, but soaking in the warmth of the hold of the Flats that already felt like it was slipping by the pain from the pieces of firewood lodged in her face. And with a breathy hiss, she turned right and resumed her walk through the dark hoping she’d at least find something worth munching on that was more pleasurable and held still long enough for her to fully consume it. Maybe then, the pain that was oddly causing her face to throb, would dissipate and she could get back to hunting more substantial meals.

[alan-duarte]

[PM] Good afternoon, Mr. Duarte. I hope this finds you well.!. I was hoping to discuss the sale of a very unique unique interesting property in Worm's Row town, ideally as soon as possible at your convenience. Thank you for your time.!.

[pm] Good afternoon Sir, My office hours are on Tuesday til Saturday, from 9.30am til 7pm. Let me know when you're available and we can schedule an appointment and a visit of your property. Feel free to call me directly @ [Phone Number]

Regards, Alan Duarte

[faunandfl0ra]

Oh, I've never left the continent, so I'm guessing American.

Which one is the dangerous one?

A dog? Great. As normal as a dog. Or a badger. An American badger or a European badger? I'm told the difference is important? In terms of likelihood of being horribly mauled, ankles-first.

[recoveringdreamer]

WICKED'S REST as SPY THRILLER

( feat: @faoighiche, @banisheed, @arustysnake, @bookofbolden, @scavengedlegacy, @stainedglasstruth, & @thunderstroked )

[wickedsrest-rp]

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Gooboss | Group Thread

TIMING: Current PARTIES: Ariadne (@ariadnewhitlock), Jade (@highoctanegem), Mack (@realmackross), and Oliver (@arustysnake) SUMMARY: Ariadne, Jade, Mack, and Oliver are at makeshift shelter volunteering and helping people displaced by the goo. The building rattles and the lights shut off as the goo they were trying to hide from starts to leak in. Despite Jade's earlier attempts to stir the pot, the four of them have to work together to get out and to make sure everyone else gets to safety with them. She finds the stairs to the roof and Ollie helps her shuffle everyone along. Ariadne reluctantly goes first (but not before accidentally mentioning that Mack is a little bit dead). Things look dire as the goo continues to rise. Mack isn't fast enough and gets engulfed by the goo. Luckily, the "screaming moose" came to the rescue and screamed everyone to safety, shattering the goo and freeing everyone stuck inside. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

The goo had taken over just about everything inland, but Mackeznie had been safe in her home near the sea at Harborside. No worries so far. However, that didn’t mean that things weren’t a struggle for most of the town, and she had never been one to shy away from helping when there had been a crisis. It’s why she was now standing in the middle of one of the makeshift shelters trying to organize mass chaos and help prepare meals for those who had lost so much to the goo already.

Luckily, she hadn’t been alone in her endeavors. Having Ariadne with her seemed to make things better. A familiar face was always nice. Of course, there had also been Jade - the food delivery driver who had oddly wanted a tour of her house, but that was in the past. Now, they were facing a situation that had become grave for so many, and that’s what had truly mattered.

“Hey, um…Oliver, right? Can you pass me that towel?” There had been another person assigned to their group though that Mackenzie didn’t recognize. He had seemed nice enough, but for some odd reason, she had gotten the feeling that he didn’t like her very much, and she didn’t know why. Mack had been used to people not liking her. She had gotten plenty of comments online from those who despised her work or thought she was spoiled. But her favorite had been the ones that claimed her to be an ugly, privileged bitch. It was definitely nothing new, and she had opted to just handle his distaste with a smile and kindness.

—

Ollie had tried to go home after the school kept-calm through that early dismissal; well, to go back to the house, anyway. To the cats, who were probably - they’d be fine! They would. Really! He was deciding to believe, just for the moment, that the O’Rourke place was every bit as blessed as his family had always said. So it would be there, as much in one piece as it’d ever been, safe and sound from the zinnias to the weathervane, when Wicked’s Rest… dealt with whatever this fresh heck was. 

Like he was deciding to believe that no, the lady who’d just sent him startling out of the wash-rinse-repeat daze of dishwashing definitely, absolutely was not who he’d thought she was, at first, wide-eyed, dry-mouthed glance. Couldn’t be. She was too normal. Not at all like that glazed-over, greyish, hungry horror show that’d gnawed through the meat case and his shoulder. (Which was also fine. Or would be, when it stopped - it would be fine.) This was just some total stranger. Who couldn’t be what Inge had said she was. 

What Inge had said the thing that tried to eat them was. Which was not this lady. 

“Yes! Of course! No problem…” Ollie pulled the tea towel she’d asked for off his shoulder - that shoulder, the one she obviously hadn’t bitten - and handed it over. Might be the last clean one left; they were already running short on everything. “You’d think we’d - they’d have more of everything put aside, emergency-supplies-wise. Given all the, ah, emergencies, around here…” A nervous sort-of laugh skittered away from him as he dug back into the sink, looking over the shelterful of people this not-zombie wouldn’t rip apart the moment they ran out of sandwiches. Obviously.

She didn’t like the goo, even if she did still feel somewhat bad about disliking something that didn’t seem to have been caused maliciously. But then again, Ariadne didn’t know about most any of those things. (Other thought patterns were pushed out of the way in favor of focusing on the present moment. Well, that and the fact that she so desperately wanted to text Wynne and give away the small surprise she’d gotten them (it wasn’t much, but she’d found an old and used record player for them, and figured it would just be a bonus extra belated birthday present. She had a feeling they hadn’t gotten lots of gifts throughout their life).

Volunteering felt nice, though, something tangible and good that she could do to help people in the town. People none of whom, thankfully, she recognized from having given them nightmares.

Plus, Ollie was here, and that always made Ariadne feel better about most everything. Mack was here too, which she was also excited about, except for the fact that she didn’t know if Mack knew that she knew that Mack was also dead.

“You’d think that, but I dunno, I guess our stuff is normal, so maybe we don’t have it ‘cause of that?” Ariadne scrunched up her nose. “That made no sense, and I’m aware of that, sorry.” She pulled out a bag of Sour Patch Strawberries and put a few in her mouth, offering the bag to the woman near her, “do you want any?”

Full disclosure? Jade had no clue she’d stumbled into a shelter. Like, she saw a little crowd gathering around the building and her nosy senses kicked in. She thought there was a thrift shop type thingy going on at first. And then well, there was a pretty cute guy with incredible dimples volunteering and he was super friendly, so Jade figured she’d get his number by the end of the day. She stayed around. Helping was like, second nature to her anyway. The goo sure had fewer fangs than what she usually tackled in order to keep everyone safe, but helping humankind was helping humankind in any way that mattered. 

Normally Jade would’ve tried to lighten the mood, throw a little joke here and there. Admittedly, it was slightly uncomfortable doing so when her skin thrummed with the alarm of undead in the vicinity. She couldn’t pick up on vampires particularly, but someone was out there, missing a heartbeat. When they ended up drifting into groups, Jade was able to find out exactly who was keeping her on edge. The first one, Mack. She knew about her, had like, a whole past together. The other was a blonde girl, unfairly tall for how young she looked. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen anyone so young in the undead team. Jade had to shake whatever stirred inside her at the image, cause it wasn’t like she could grab the knife she had concealed inside her jacket and just go on a stabbing spree. People were bummed out already, she could read the room. The third member of their group didn’t feel threatening, though he was a little grey-faced for whatever reason, so she was slightly sus of him. 

“Look, this is literally the worst place I’ve ever lived in” Jade chimed in, when she heard the exchange between the man and the girl. “But like, to play devil’s advocate…who’d have a contingency plan for this?” And that was the nicest she’d ever be about this little town from hell. She glanced at the blonde girl, eyes dropping to the bag. She wasn’t sure about fraternizing with the undead. (Without ulterior motives, at least). “Um… I’m good babe, don’t worry about me. Maybe Mack wants some. Or, uh…Oliver was it?” That’s what she’d heard, at least. “I’m Jade by the way, don’t we make a kick ass team?” she faked a big smile. Just cause she knew about the undead vibes, didn’t mean she had to be like, rude or anything.  

“Thanks.” Mackenzie reached out and took the towel, “I agree. It’s like this town is one big horror movie, and we’re just the unlucky ones stuck living in it.” Folding it over, she began drying off the counter she had just wiped with a wet, soapy cloth. With more sandwiches to make of a different variety, she wanted to make sure any residue of peanut butter and jelly had ceased to exist. But Mack couldn’t stop herself from noticing Oliver’s nervousness, “Hey, are you okay? I know this goo situation isn’t ideal, but I think we’re pretty safe inside.” Maybe it was the fact that the town was in a state of emergency and not so much that Mack was the culprit of his nervousness, but she just wasn’t entirely sure.

Finishing what she was doing, Mack sat the towel aside and returned the peanut butter and jelly jars to their rightful place, “Have you eaten anything? I can make you a sandwich.” In fact, she had wondered if Ariadne or Jade had even eaten. “Hey, Ariadne, Jade, do you guys want me to make a sandwich for you? I’ve got PB&J, Nora’s favorite…Ham and cheese, and turkey and cheese.” Knowing she was working on turkey, ham, and cheese next, she pulled out all of the ingredients from the industrial sized refrigerator and carried them over to the counter.

It made a Wicked’s Rest sort of sense. Ollie wanted to give Deeny a point for that; this was only slightly above the average level of freakish by the standards of this nightmarishly quaint corner of Americana they were both unfortunate enough to have sprang from, yes - but to actually say so seemed like inviting some new, horrible twist of bullshit. Better not. 

He glanced between that unfamiliar face, Jade, to Mack; the first had a smile that might’ve unsettled him, somehow, if it weren’t for the maybe man-eating one right there, to compare. Ollie found a near-grin of his own, for Ariadne. “You keep ‘em, Deeny. More for you.” Like this was just another night of baby-sitting after a rough day at dance class, and loading up on sugar was the fastest way to fix it. 

Jesus. Mack got an actual twitch out of him, just asking. “Oh, I’m -” Ollie let out a clearly very okay sort of scoff between dishes. “Fine!” Seeing as they were totally pretty safe. Inside. Right. “I mean, it’s only been a century and change since the last time something almost exactly like this went on, and that was, probably, the worst single thing that’s ever happened around here. Just, by sheer volume of…” death? property damage? goo? He shrugged right into a wince, not especially wanting to dwell on just how bad this newest mess might get. Before any zombies got involved. “Have you eaten anything, Mack?” The question snuck out quick, earnest. Ever so slightly strained. “You’ve been doing so much for everybody, you - you should eat, definitely.” Just in case. 

“Could I just have jelly? Um, if you don’t mind!” Ariadne chirped over to Mackenzie. “But I’m actually kind of all good, so you don’t have to.” The last thing she wanted, in the middle of what could clearly only be described as a total disaster, was to be a burden, and especially since she didn’t technically have to eat, and did always carry candy around to help satisfy the whole sweets craving thing, she wasn’t about to put anybody out.

“Oh – yeah, I can have them, if nobody else does.” She looked down at the floor for a moment, briefly dejected, though she figured only Oliver would be able to spot that, because she’d only known Mackenzie for a few months, and this Jade lady was totally new. Absolutely super movie-star pretty, but totally new. Ariadne nodded, looking over to Jade again, “have you lived in a lot of places? I’ve – well, I was born here.” And died here. “So I’ve only ever lived here for my whole life, but it’s always amazing to hear about people living elsewhere. I think Mackenzie did, too, um, right?”

“I’m all good” Jade reiterated, on the prospect of having a sandwich. (And like, who was Nora, by the way?). She figured it was better just to leave the food for the people in the shelter anyway. She’d get one of the volunteers to buy her dinner after. The sour patch kid (Ariadne, apparently) addressed her again, and Jade shook her head. “I lived in California for most of my life, actually. But then, I went on a little road trip around the country,” chasing an elder vampire and its progeny but, details. She still ended up in all different places. None like Wicked’s Rest, that’s for sure.    

Listening to the rest of the team chat, Jade lined up more slices of bread on the tray, with a degree of perfection that shouldn’t matter when they were about to be filled seconds later. (But whatever, she liked things neat, alright?) It was kind of a bummer that everyone already knew each other, while she was the outlier. (Story of her life). But that meant, she could bring the element of surprise. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, knowing what she had to do. “So…I’m sensing some tension here” she looked up, wiggling her eyebrows. Truth was, she wasn’t sensing much tension other than her own, but it would be fun to see what came out of her vague statement. Maybe it would distract her from her own feelings. The man, Oliver, was acting all kinds of sus, anyway. Like he was the slayer getting all the uncomfortable undead tingles right now. Her gaze danced between Mack and Oliver. “Did you guys bang? Is that what this…” she gestured between them, “is? I’m sure we can all put that aside to help here, can’t we?” Her eyes wrinkled in amusement, glancing at Ariadne with a conspiratory grin. She hoped she would enjoy this just as much as Jade did. Kids loved tea, right? “Just like I totally forgave Mack for stealing my boyfriend when I was 22!” 

She truly was over it, really. And if it helped fix whatever was going on between those two, then Jade was doing them a service by sharing her story. What was she, if not in service of humanity? The cocky grin spreading across her face faltered when something eerily like underground vibrations reached her ears. Her hands held the tray in front of her in place, though nothing shook. “Huh, did anyone hear that?”

“Jelly it is!” Sliding two pieces of bread over from where Jade had neatly lined them up, Mackenzie began spreading on the sweet gelled consistency all over the bread while she listened to everyone talk, “And yeah, I’m good. I ate before I came over here, but thanks for asking.” She looked at Oliver with a smile not really picking up what he was putting down aside from more awkwardness. What’s with this guy? “I’ve lived in California most of my life, but I did move around quite a bit for work.” She looked back towards Ariadne and continued to listen while she made good use of her time, until she heard Jade ask if she had banged Oliver.

Putting the knife down she was holding, Mackenzie narrowed her eyes at Jade, before looking back at the man standing next to her, “Uh, no. We haven’t banged…Kind of a personal question, don’t you think?” She looked back over at the woman that she had only known from getting food delivered to her house. That was highly inappropriate and weird. Mack was used to rumors spreading around about her in the tabloids. She had been watching a shitshow of how the media ran wild with theories of her and Brody for months now. But the words out of Jade’s mouth had smacked her upside the head like a ton of bricks, “What did you just say?”

Grabbing the other piece of bread, she slapped it down on the sandwich frustration clearly starting to come through, “I didn’t steal anybody. Brody mentioned having a girlfriend previously, but thought it was best to end things.” It was taking a lot for Mackenzie to hold back the anger that was starting to boil inside of her, especially the undead side of things. But remembering there were other people in the room, she grabbed the jelly sandwich and put it on a plate passing it over to Ariadne, before she felt the same shift that Jade was talking about.

“Great,” Ollie half-hummed, wishing he believed Mack as much as he’d really, really like to. Logically, though - if believing in zombies set your bar for logic, which, apparently, his should - if you could avoid being a ravening, hangry monster by snacking on whatever her equivalent of a Snickers might be, you would. And that was, oh, God, absolutely all the thinking he wanted to do about that. He’d have happily sunk back into the calming(ish) routine of clearing the dishpit. Too bad Jade got curious, for some reason. Nothing better to do, he might’ve thought. If they did not, in fact, have so many better things to do. Loads! Shitloads, even. 

Mack spared him wracking his wrung-out brain for a passably clever comeback to that, at least. (He’d have thanked her, really, if not for - well, she’d got her quarter pound of flesh, already.) So Ollie left his answer at the gayest stare he could drum up after a long, long… half-year, and went back to scrubbing cutting boards. Listening along, obviously, as Mack bit down - aha - on that second scrap of bait Jade had thrown out. So they knew each other. Over very different stories about a boyfriend. Or from the boyfriend? He could’ve chimed in, having also definitely never stolen a boyfriend, but. Nah. Seemed like they had some stuff to work out. It’d be more fun to watch. So long as Mack didn’t literally rip Jade’s head off, anyway. 

(Super funny. Christ. He had to get out of this whole place.)

He’d just done his best to sneak a tired, totally not frantic smile Deeny’s way when something like a… bassline, real low, deep, rumbled right up his spine. Ollie blinked, unclenching his jaw with a grimace as the - sound? faded. Shaking that off, he frowned down at the cheap rec center tiles as Jade wondered the same thing he was. How wouldn’t somebody feel that? “Yeah…” The sinkwater rippled as another rumble, almost a groan, shuddered through the place. Enough for everyone to startle, out at the tables. Not just them! Confirmed. So nice to know. 

She offered the woman – Jade – an awkward grin, because any weird talk about Ollie felt bad, but Jade also seemed cooler than cool, and Ariadne didn’t want to disappoint her, either. Which was a fair bit of a conundrum, but nothing she couldn’t handle (or so she told herself) (and, after all, in the past year she’d gotten exceptionally excellent at lying to herself). She knew Mack, and knew Mack was more like her than not, but that also didn’t seem good to tell the other people, because it was a private matter, and she didn’t know if Mack liked it, like Inge seemed to, or if she didn’t, like Ariadne still felt, even if she was trying to come to terms with it.

Taking the sandwich, Ariadne didn’t even have time to bite it before the building shifted (or something), and she dropped the plate, wincing as it clattered, tensing up again at the shift. “Something’s happening, yeah.” Genius deduction skills on her part, surely. Brilliant. It wasn’t like everyone else had already pointed that out.

“I – I don’t think we were due for an earthquake…” her voice trailed off.

Jade smiled, which felt all kinds of villainous really, but it was a genuine, delighted smile. The first one since she got here, actually. Sure, she was making everything messier by bringing up old, forgotten tea, but at least they were having fun now, right? Well, she was. Mack on the other hand, didn’t look too pleased. She waved her hand, her posture relaxed. “It’s all in the past babe, I’m just trying to get you two to put whatever you got going on behind. We’re really knuckle deep if I have to go all…voice of the reason”. Wasn’t that weird? For someone who claimed to have no fault in the whole boyfriend stealing debacle to get all defensive? Jade sure thought so, but also knew not to provoke further. It was about being the right amount of menace to shake things up. 

Speaking of…  

Jade had experienced more than a few earthquakes in her lifetime. All things considered, when they weren’t like… absurdly destructive they were fine. A little fun, even! The underground rumbling beneath them sorta felt like one, but like… the movement wasn’t there. Seriously, she’d been in beds with frames that shook harder than it just had. So, yup… fully in agreement with the Sour Patch kid, it was very unlikely to be an earthquake. (Anything could make those noises, basically). She released her grip on the tray, deciding to go about her business, lining up more bread slices. “I’m not like, a science person… but I bet we have like… underground gas from the mines” she nodded, pursing her lips like she had said the most brilliant thing ever spoken. She slid the tray to the girls, but before she could stir the conversation towards conspiracy theories, the lights went out. Nope, they like… fully exploded above them. At the same time the ground shook, for real this time, the building trembled along with it.

And then, it was like something hooked her stomach and they were sinking, plummeting as the force sent them all to the floor. 

It was like The Tower of Terror, in a lot of ways. But better. (The one from Disneyland by the way, not Disneyworld) (She’d never been to Florida). The adrenaline rush gave Jade two seconds of absolute bliss before she understood the severity of the situation. (They fell… into a hole?) (How were they still alive, actually?) It wasn’t over. And it wasn’t safe. It felt like the building was readying for another drop, as it slowly slinked into sludge. Or maybe, actually, it was going to fully collapse. “Sh—oot” she blinked, her vision adjusting to the complete darkness. Enough to spot the food they had been working on spilled everywhere, and, at the distance, black goo dripping from the shattered windows. (Ooooh). “Y’all okay?” Before she could hear much of anything, chaotic screaming broke out at the table.

Mackenzie so greatly wanted to strangle Jade at that moment. No. Better yet. She wanted to let the monster inside of her take over and make Jade her own personal meal. The brains of the woman who finally proved the zombie’s gut feeling right. She had known since the day Jade had stepped foot in Mack’s house to deliver food and wanted to take some random tour, that there was something off. And now she had gotten her answer.

Oliver seemed even more embarrassed, and she didn’t know what was going through Ariadne’s mind. All she wanted to do was take this outside and finish their little discussion in private, but before she could, Mack felt the floor shift. And then watched as the lights exploded above them. Great. That was the last thing she had needed, since her eyesight was crap in the first place.

It was the great plunge that happened that caused Mackenzie to drop what she was doing and grip the countertop as tight as she possibly could though. All anger had left her body in that instance and her concern had fallen on her teammates (including Jade) and the…now screaming people in the other room. Unfortunately for her, being in the dark with her fading senses didn’t help, except the smell, she knew that smell and the sound of busted pipes that weren't actually busted pipes…the goo. The thing they were supposed to be safe from and it was starting to leak inside, “Fuck.” She glanced between Jade, Ariadne, and Oliver, before looking back to the panic stricken room full of people, “Anybody got any ideas on how we can get out of this mess?” She figured they didn’t, but it would at least give her some time to think of something, hopefully…

Deeny had that right; Maine got more earthquake drills than earthquakes. Still, Ollie found himself leaning into the counter, weirdly off-balance, just off - vibrating with something other than nerves, now, enough that the clatter of Ariadne’s plate had barely registered. Like whatever they had going on? Is that what she’d said? Seemed like he was the only one who knew. Mack would have to be a hell of an actress to play this cool about a whole attempted (cannibalistic) murder. But - it was her, wasn’t it? Sans the dead-doe glazed-over eyes, those gory, gaping teeth…

Christ. How crazy was he? 

Shaking it off, or trying to, anyway, Ollie bent to clean up the floor sandwich, the plate. Only to drop both all over again as everything hellevatored down. Hard. 

The landing was… unsettlingly sludgy. He opened his eyes on near-total darkness. Too many somebodies were screaming, crunching wildly through what sounded like an awful amount of broken glass. A couple frantic phone flashlights swung through the gloom. With a hiss, Ollie peeled away from the cupboard he’d braced against - bad shoulder first. That hungry-mouthful of arm throbbed, furiously; he snuck a few fingers under his collar to check the dressing as he stood, slow, finding his footing on tilted tiles. That were tilting a little more by the moment, more like a loosely moored wharf than a building with what should be a solid, steady foundation. Amazing. Fantastic! Wicked.

And now what? Ideas. “Roof access?” He winced, gripping down on that chewed up shoulder as one of those creeping, crawling shivers ran through it, cold and itchy. “There should be -” Ollie turned, took a quick breath, and projected over the panic like they were all in goddamn gym class. “HEY!” Well, that - that’d worked better than he’d expected, actually. “Thank you,” he seized the lull, then chunked the instructions, quick, clear. Just another (not) drill. Totally. “We need. To get. To the roof. Does anybody know the easiest way to do that?” It was a community hall they’d wound up in; not a place he was familiar with, but there had to be someone in here who was from the neighborhood. Probably? Hopefully… 

She yelped when the lights exploded, and in turn again when they fell, and Ariadne knew this wasn’t the time for her to feel all sorry for herself or anything like that, but she couldn’t help but feel at least a bit ashamed given… all of this. Given how she should’ve been able to hold it together and be braver, rather than a disaster.

Ariadne could hear people screaming and she wanted to cry for them, because they had to be good, and they didn’t deserve this, and Mack was asking about how they could get out of the mess and all Ariadne could focus on, for a moment, was how Mack was dead just like her, except not just like her, but that was semantics and really wasn’t what she should’ve been focusing on at the moment.

Thankfully, Ollie seemed to have a decent handle on things, and between him and Jade (and Mack, too, Ariadne had to admit), they had responsible adults here who actually knew what they were doing, and what a relief that was. What was less of a relief, though, was that there were a lot of murmurs of ‘I don’t know’ after Ollie asked his question. “Um, we – maybe if we stack some stuff on top of each other?...” She looked around at her companions, realizing that now, in the dark, her eyes had to be taking on something of a crimson glow. Well that was fun.

“Let’s save that idea for when we have no other option” Jade replied to the blondie. (The younger one) (Sour patch kid was getting a little repetitive). Hopefully it wouldn’t come to them playing jenga with the kitchen objects while trying to reach the ceiling. Or an even worse alternative: Stacking themselves on top of eachother like some sorta human pyramid. Her cheerleading days were long gone, she didn’t have it in her. She looked around, just like the rest of the people in the room, searching for options. The windows wouldn’t work, obviously. Not only were they busted, but currently the main source of goo leaking into the building. The fire escape was probably ruined too, so that didn’t leave a ton of options. 

A booming voice managed to quiet all the panicky murmurs in the hall, and Jade raised her eyebrows at Oliver. “That was so hot of you, babe,” she winked at him even though the darkness didn’t allow visibility. For him. She could see pretty freaking well right now. And not only did he manage to get everybody to shut up, his idea was even better. “To the roof, yup. Listen to the guy”. Considering they were like, sinking into the sludge, that had to be a goo free zone, no? She wanted to imagine that at least. With impeccable timing, the building slid again, rumbling underneath them. Ugh. “Stairs,” she mumbled, mostly to herself while Oliver and everybody else on the other side tried to communicate. 

Jade had been told before she wasn't a particularly great leader (lies). Apparently? Cause she always wanted things done her way, or whatever. (True)(And the correct way, mind you). So she wanted no part in sorting out the mess of discussions between volunteers and those displaced by the goo. Her three teammates were being rockstars about it. She figured what they needed now more than anything, was someone nosy enough to go looking. So that was exactly what she did. She sauntered by the storage room toward the corridor. Some of the emergency exits were still illuminated. Right. Follow the little colored arrows, how hard could it be? They should go through the one door with “roof access” written on it, but that was like, totally a hunch. She spun around, strolling back to the kitchen to share her findings.

Meanwhile, the volunteers in the sheltering area were doing the job of keeping everyone as calm as possible post slump. And honestly? They were flopping a little. A few of them succumbed to the panic too. Jade stood between Mack and Oliver, in case their sexual tension was ready to explode. “There’s a neat door in the corridor that we should open. My guess? Stairs to the roof” she nodded, lips pressed into a smug smile. “Even if that’s like a total bust, we should start moving these people. They’re gonna keep freaking out if they think we’re in the latest Final Destination” she clasped her hands together, as if this was some sort of school excursion. “SO! Up the stairs we go? Yay!” She was the first out of the kitchen cause like, if this were the Titanic, she should’ve definitely had the front seat. But something bigger than her froze her after she walked through the frame. She watched as people came over from the shelter side. (Ugh) She was like, a volunteer or something… so she had some responsibility or whatever. It wasn’t her brand of protecting people, but it counted too. It did. She knew this. 

“Roof access. That’s good. Good call.” Mackenzie looked between her partners and out into the sea of people in the other much larger room. How had all of this fallen on their shoulders? Ariadne was just a kid. Oliver looked like someone who had lost their favorite toy AND stepped on a lego multiple times. And Jade…well Jade was just Jade. But the one thing she had going for her was that she did take initiative, so Mackenzie did appreciate that. And what was even more of a win? When the food delivery girl returned with a solution. But Mackenzie still wanted to have a few words when this was all said and done, because she was not a boyfriend stealer.

Seeing Jade freeze when the crowd of people started to make their way towards the kitchen, Mackenzie stepped in. She had dealt with massive amounts of people before. Mostly with security around, but this was a literal matter of life and death. And to make herself more noticeable, she climbed onto the counter and stood up, so they could all see her through the large open window area of the kitchen, “HEY! If we all want to make it out of here, we’re gonna have to single file it up the stairs. And NO pushing! We want to make it out alive and safe right? And we want our fellow neighbors to do so as well!” She motioned towards the door leading to safety, “Go through that doorway over there as quickly and safely as possible, and again, no pushing! We don’t want a back up on the 405!” You could take the girl out of California, but you couldn’t take California out of the girl.

Hopping off the counter, she had hoped they would listen and not push and shove, and as the last of them followed through the doorway, she turned to her fellow volunteers, “Ariadne, you go first, since you’re the youngest.” She wasn’t going to watch her friend succumb to a gooey death. She refused, and honestly, if Oliver and Jade had wanted to go before Mackenzie as well, she had no qualms. Mack was already dead after all.

Jade was saying something; what, Ollie couldn’t sort out. Not with his head rattling this hard. (Vertigo? He’d never had vertigo. Panic attack? He wasn’t panicking.) She was probably just making it weirder. Had a real gift for that. The power had really gone out, out; gone, leaving just the bluish haze of those phones, the low, red glow of a couple signs, and… he stopped, staring into the blackness at the red glow of something else, something horribly like - 

His eyes unfocused, that red scattering as he swayed through another rumble that juddered right from the soles of his feet to the back of his skull. The floor took another tilt, settling lower. Deeper, more accurately. Deeper in that crap that was gurgling in.

Thankfully, Jade also had a gift for finding actual exits. So they didn’t die a couple of truly Wicked’s Rest-grade deaths. And Mack had the crowd control thing down, which shouldn’t have been so surprising, seeing as she wasn’t a deranged cannibal. Wise, throwing in the no pushing; the startled watch-outs and heys that followed the pile-up as they singleish-filed their way upstairs had made it pretty damn clear they’d needed the reminder. Just like tenth graders on a field trip. Totally just like that. 

Still unsteady, Ollie followed the counter - that hand he’d checked his shoulder with were tacky against the formica. Blood? Something worse? Nothing good. But fine! It’d all be fine. “Yeah, Deeny - go on,” he agreed, easily, head spinning. Not just because he was trying to keep an eye on whatever the hell he… maybe saw, glaring out of the dark. Jesus. Like they didn’t have enough problems; now he was “seeing” new ones. Ollie shook it off as a loud shove-creak echoed down that packed stairway, followed by sighs and cries that slid between relieved and urgent. All those footfalls scrambled harder, higher. “Sure sounds like a way out, hey?” He tried to squint back at those broken windows and the sunk-low corner where the goo must’ve started to pool. And where it had to be flowing from, as the building pitched again, violently enough to send tables dragging across the floor and chairs crashing. “Up -” Ollie started, following his own frantic directions onto the kitchen island. “Up, everybody up!” 

Roof access made sense. It made sense in very much the same way that reminded Ariadne just how glad she was that she wasn’t the only person in charge of solving this problem. Or really, the person in charge at all. Because she’d help, certainly and without question, but being in charge wasn’t something she was even remotely comfortable with. Having to choreograph something gave her enough anxiety as it was, and she wasn’t even in charge of life or death at that point. “Right, yes, of course,” she nodded at Jade, before turning towards Ollie and Mackenzie.

“I – why – I don’t need to –” she felt her stomach turn in a sense of guilt. “Just because I’m youngest doesn’t mean I need to go first, that’s – I can move quickly, and I don’t want Mack to die, like, again or stuff?” Ariadne pressed her hand quickly against her mouth, unable to believe that she’d just said what she’d said. “I mean, like, ‘cause she’s died in movies she’s been in, right? And we don’t want – that would be very bad if it happened in real life.” She wanted to sink into herself, hoping maybe nobody else noticed. Because she wasn’t supposed to say stuff like that, and she felt sick to her stomach. “I can – whoever wants to, can go,” she tugged at her bracelet. 

Jade got to do one of the things she loved most: Bossing people around. It was super fun to tell everybody not to shove each other and be patient while going up the stairs. Two things she would’ve totally failed at, had she been on the other side. But she wasn’t so, she got to live her dreams and keep people safe in the process. She tapped her boot, watching the line get shorter, wishing she was already at the top of the stairs (closer to reaching the exit), than at the bottom, with her whimsical team of volunteers in a building that kept tilting every second. But again, this fell under the ‘protecting people’ umbrella, so her conscience was clean. Confused by the sound of her boot no longer echoing against the tiles, she glanced down. Sludge splashed beneath her, and a thin layer of goo (at least for now) began spreading to the corridor too. Well, crap. 

She whipped her head toward the kitchen, looking for the rest of her crew. She noticed the crimson glow in the younger girl’s eyes. Uh. Jade couldn’t ignore the thrumming underneath her skin anymore. It continued to indicate she wasn’t in front of a vampire. But… what if her spidey sense didn’t get reception down here, or the goo was intercepting it? She became increasingly aware of the knife inside her jacket. Just in case. If it came down to it, she’d have to make sure this girl didn’t hurt anyone. Her innocent act wasn’t fooling her. And actually, it was making a lot of sense how she kept insisting on staying with them. Planning to kill them, maybe? (Who said she wasn’t like every slayer?) (Emilio would be so freaking proud of her paranoia). She looked at Mack, curious of her reaction as blondie revealed what Jade already knew. She was also dead. Wait. Shoot. As fun as the tea was, they were sorta in the middle of a thing. “Um. Okay? We don’t have time to debate who goes or doesn’t go first. We’ll all end up getting there eventually, anyway”. And if the kid didn’t want to go up the stairs then, whatever. She was already dead. It sorta made the job quicker for her if she preferred getting encased by the Wish version of the Kid’s Choice Awards slime. 

The building sank again, the hardest since the initial slump. The Powers That Be likely pissed about all this chit-chat. The room turned, chairs and tables dragged, screeching against the floor. Goo pooled under their feet, coming with more violence out of every broken window. Oliver commanded them to get on the island, but Jade knew that was like, smart only for so long. It could lead to them getting flooded by the sludge. “Unless we can surf on the island all the way to the roof, which… fun, I’ve been meaning to try that. Maybe we should like, skedaddle… actually” She gestured to the corridor and spoke specifically to Oliver, on account of… being the only other person alive in the room. If Mack and Ariadne wanted to follow, well… Jade didn’t plan on stopping them. For now. “But you know… feel free to... Yup”. Having evacuated most of the people in the shelter her only concern now was her own survival. She trailed up behind the last person on the single line (she was still serious about her duty), slowly walking up the stairs. She could hear people cheering at the top, so she figured… that meant they must’ve found the exit door, right? Great! Perfect. This would count as her biggest W. Who was a girl failure? Not her! 

Something roared furiously beneath them, material crumbling as the building took another, almost final dive. Jade and the rest of the people still at the stairs, tumbled to the side, leaving them to climb up the rest of the way at an awkward angle. Desperate shrieks echoed from the top, and everyone seemed to give up any effort to stay calm. It had become a race to get out.  

Mackenzie had been insistent that Ariadne make her way up first, but when the building started to shift again and Goo Girl in Real Life started to become a thing, she gave up on the effort. Well and because, “What…What did you just say?” A shiver shot down her spine. Not because of the imminent danger they were in, but because Ariadne had just, out loud, mentioned that Mack was dead. And the attempted coverup was only making it worse. Hopefully Jade, who was already causing enough problems, and Oliver, who had been skittish this entire time, hadn’t noticed. Never had she hoped and prayed that such chaos would cover up the truth about who she really was, but if they made it out alive, she was going to have a little conversation with Ariadne, because despite her being at the sleepover that night, word on the street was that she had been holed up in a room with Wynne the entire time making out. So someone had to have spilled the dead beans, and the young zombie wanted to know who.

While chaos continued on around them, Mack had started to spiral. Jade was already suspicious of her and Brody, and this might have just sealed the deal on that, but when she felt a stronger shift in the building, which sent her sliding into the side of the counter she had previously been standing on, with a thud, the twenty-five year old finally came back to her senses and the situation they were in. Shit, that hurt…

Pushing herself off the counter with a groan, she noticed the sludge forming under her feet. This was bad. Really fucking bad. And as Mackenzie looked up, she saw that Jade had started making her way up the stairs first. Of course she did. “Okay, a little tough love here, but Ariadne, Ollie…you both need to move your asses now, or spend the rest of your days encased in this crap!” She knew in good conscience that if she left them there alone and something happened, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. She was already struggling with that anyways, after all the death and destruction she had previously caused unknowingly. And while she wouldn’t openly admit it to herself (like she even had time to with the situation they were currently in), there was a part of her hoping that the goo would finally just take her to atone for all the harm she had already put out into the world.

Dodging dark sludge in a dark room would’ve been hard enough if Ollie’s world wasn’t lurching about as wildly as the whole damn building. As it was? He was just trying his best to keep down… whatever he’d eaten last. Something. At school. Hours ago. Before drowning in Wicked’s Rest had seemed so literally likely to be the death of him. God. Seriously? 

Seriously? “Tough love? Are you - Deeny,” he refocused, back to… to where Ariadne seemed to be, which was where that freaky trick of the not-light was, kaleidoscoping the blackness with red. It was nothing. Nothing like how Mack had died in the movies, whatever that meant, whatever Ariadne already knew? (What?) Nothing he was going to be fucking paralyzed by, right now. (Except for how he couldn’t feel his legs, actually. Fuck. Maybe this was a panic attack, just a different kind, crawling through his nerves like that fucking ooze was sliming its way across the tiles.) “Ariadne,” Ollie insisted, gently, but insisting all the same. “You need to go. Your parents are out there. Wynne’s out there. Okay? So, you get up those stairs, and you go home, to them. Now, like the lady said. Go go go,” he tacked on, quick. Still not-tough. Old-babysitter-solid, that’s what he was aiming for. Hopefully, by the power of their assorted bullshit combined, Mack and him would get Deeny started - and Jade, if she wasn’t totally gone already, could keep her going, all the way away. 

“I – nothing.” She wanted to sink into herself, because apparently Mackenzie hadn’t misheard her or just not heard her, and Ariadne hated herself for that. In a brief, fleeting moment of amusement, she found herself thinking that at least this was something new to hate herself for.

And now Ollie was full-naming her and she didn’t take it to mean anything like he was mad or stuff like that, but it did mean something was at least somewhat (really) serious and he was making good points about her parents and Wynne, and she really didn’t want to freak her parents out by dying for a second time. “I – fine, okay. I – I will, but only if all of you promise you’ll all make it out, and – I’m letting her go first,” Ariadne gestured to a woman who had to be around seventy. 

The woman made her way up, and Ariadne turned around to the others. “Will at least one of you come on up with me?”

The concern and care that Oliver showed for Ariadne was something Mackenzie respected. Just like the zombie, he wanted her safe. Yes, she might have just outed Mack’s secret in front of two other people, but right now it was life and death for all involved, whether or not you were actually something other than human. Most everyone had left except for her, Ariadne, Oliver, and a little old lady who seemed to be trailing behind.

“I’m gonna go check and make sure there’s no one left. I’ll be right back.” Fighting her way towards the doorway leading out to where the cots were, Mackenzie noticed that with the shift, everything had moved and the floor was almost completely covered with the goo slowly inching its way closer to the kitchen area. Quickly turning back around, Mackenzie was just about to move towards the three remaining people and usher them forward, but before she could, she felt something stop her in her tracks; a resistance, before she felt it on top of her feet slowly starting to make its way up to her ankles – the goo.

“Ariadne, Oliver…listen to me right now. You grab that woman and go. NOW.” Mackenzie’s voice held a bit more panic, but she didn’t want to let the others know she was in trouble. However, the more she fought to move, the more it started to hurt and the quicker it crept up her legs.

Wasn’t that an Ariadne-brand promise to ask for. “Absolutely. Right - right behind you.” Ollie lied, like a liar, which he… had been being, a lot, lately. Practice! He bit down and took an unsteady lean out, off the far-from-level kitchen island, to try and tell the swirling blackness of all that ooze from the also-swirling blackness of everything else. 

… and leaned right back, shuddering with the whole foundation, floor to ceiling. (Tailbone to the tip of his tongue, where he could just about taste the blood seeping through his shirt. Only, that was impossible.) His breath rattled out, fast, then rushed in, shallow. Ollie was working on the next one when Mack reappeared, a silhouette barely back-lit in exit-sign red. Like - like the horror show something-or-other she was. Shit. Did Ariadne know? (Insane. How would Deeny know about actual, real dead things that didn’t stay dead?) If she did, how was she so - okay? What the hell was wrong with him? She was going to be up there, with all those people, those edible people, and a zombie. And what could he do about that? Drag himself through the deadly sludge and hope Mack would come back for seconds instead of taking a piece out of somebody else?   

Well, better than nothing. Deeny’s parents would still kill him if she got eaten.

“Working on it.” Fighting his sweater off over that burning, bloody shoulder, Ollie loosened the laces on his shoes and pawed around the counter for - there. Some cutlery; that’d do. Time to find some ooze. He slipped into the lee of the island and nearly hit the deck, his numbish legs half-caving under him. Only half! Deep breath. Dizzily, he lobbed a spoon just ahead, into the dark; a clank. Tiles. He followed it, unsteady, focused, doing his best not to throw up his far-off lunch or his hammering heart. A fork landed with a murky splat. A couple feet to the right, a knife clanged. Progress. Everybody was headed up, and out, and yes he was going to run out of spoons to drop but he lurched out of his half-tied sneakers as they stuck and threw down that sweater to stumble the last, sludgy steps to the stairs. And if he fell up the first few, palms and shins stinging, so what. Made it. Only to stagger wildly as they all kept sinking…

She didn’t know why she wanted to push back as much as she did, but Ariadne felt like maybe she still wasn’t supposed to be the one who got out when other people risked their lives. Except that especially with Ollie around, she wasn’t going to get around and off so easily. He listened to her though, which was more than she could’ve asked for or hoped for.

Not that him listening was unexpected (because he always listened, no matter what, always), but there was just a lot going on that made it hard for her to concentrate too much on any one thing. Even as the building shook, and as Mackenzie insisted on going back to check, and Ariadne wanted to go and help too, but she figured that if she tried to insist on that, she’d just up and get a heck of a lot more pushback than she was up for hearing.

Besides, her parents would want her to come out of this, and so would Wynne, and Cass and Alex too. If for nobody else, Ariadne figured getting out so none of them freaked out too much. That, and, if she thought about it much, being at home with hot chocolate and buried under a blanket, with the knowledge that she, Mack, Jade, and Ollie had helped people. The older woman started to make her way up the ladder. “Mack? When are you coming? ‘Cause I think just about everybody’s all out… Jade, you too, right?”

Mackenzie watched as Ollie rather brilliantly made a path out of the kitchen for himself using the sound of objects hitting the floor. Even though she was currently caught up, and in a dangerous situation, she still found the time to be impressed. But more so, she was just glad that he was going and Ariadne was following suit. They would all be free, and she could sink up in the goo knowing that everyone would probably make it out.

As for her and the current predicament she was in, Mackenzie had found that the more she struggled the faster the goo rose up her legs, and at this point it had made it to her knees. There was definitely no getting out now, and instead of being a fictional film, Goo Girl was starting to feel more like a biographical piece. Thankfully, she had Ariadne’s voice to cut through the fear that was starting to well up in her, and as best she could, she remained calm not wanting to frighten the younger woman, “Yeah, I’ll be there. And, uh, I think Jade already went up. She was like one of the first ones to the top.” Cause you know, staying and actually making sure everyone was safe was too beneath her – at this point, literally.

Taking a useless, but well earned deep breath in, Mackenzie let out a long, quivering sigh. With her poor eyesight looking towards the bright red Exit sign, she watched as it flickered, knowing she was never going to make it out, and now was the time to start to say her goodbyes to those she loved in the world – her parents, Bixby, Winter, Taylor, Alex, Monty, Parker, Milo, and the other friends she had made, especially since coming to Wicked’s Rest. She thought about Brody and how, if there was an afterlife, that she had hoped she would see him again. And Elora. She thought about Elora and the possibilities she would be leaving behind, “Love you guys…”

Closing her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks, she felt another hard shift of the building, which had caused the goo to spread up her body faster. And though she wanted to be brave, Mackenzie could feel her body shaking as the fear continued to rise making its way over her mouth, nose, eyes, and soon there was nothing, but a statue standing in the place where the zombie once was.

With the building, nearly into the ground and red Exit sign no longer apparent from the goo that rose up the steps inching closer to its next intended targets, it had just about proved successful until something happened. A loud, shrill noise had cut through the air. One that even caused the nearby animals to stop howling. Birds drop mid flight and anything in close proximity cringe and show attention to whatever thing…monster…Moose? That screaming moose that had run through Wicked’s Rest not too long ago. That had to be it. But no matter what it was. It was at the right frequency to cause a shift. To actually harm the goo. And the longer it went on the more the hardened, thick sludge began to crack and crumble.

A cement casing that had formed around everything just below the survivors, including a frozen in time Mack, slowly began to fall, which soon turned into more than just a few pieces here and there, but an avalanche of cursed ground and as the fault line made its way through the fallen building and its rooms, Mackenzie, who was surrounded by the darkness unable to move or speak for what felt like an eternity (though it had literally only been maybe like ten minutes) was soon freed leaving her to collapse to her knees, “What.. the…” She forced out the words, loosening up the goo that slid down her throat and into her lungs. And as she gathered her barings, she quickly clawed her way forwards over rubble and made her way up the remainder of the stairs as quickly as she could, until she could see light at what felt like the end of a long dark tunnel of goopy despair.

It wasn’t the breeziest of times. Nope. So not a vibe. This would totally make a terrible amusement park attraction. But despite the universe conspiring for Jade to have like, an awful time, she held onto the rails like her life depended on it (well…duh). Maybe it was her own hunter training wiring her brain differently than most people trapped with her, but she hadn’t freaked out yet. Why would she? She was a thousand percent confident they would make it out (killing her off would be like, so bad for the plot). Just like she’d been totally sure she could take on an elder vampire by herself. And sure, whatever… That one sorta backfired, but what mattered was being daring. That was the kinda attitude that got you to places. Places like, outside this building. One failure wouldn’t deter her. 

And even though she could’ve likely gotten ahead of the line by batting her eyelashes or twirling her hair, she still lingered close to the bottom of the stairs. Her attention was on the team she’d left behind. (‘Cause she was nosy. No other reason). Like, what could they possibly be wasting time on? What was that clattering noise. Did they really wanna be stuck in the goo forever? It couldn’t be good for the skin.

Finally, two of them appeared in the hallway, and Jade rolled her eyes at them in greeting. “Took ya long enough, where’s…” she grimaced at Oliver’s nasty fall, whatever badly timed quip she had ready to go dying in her tongue. Alright, jokes later. She noticed the two were accompanied by somebody else. Not Mack. And… How did she miss this granny when she was lining up people at the stairs? Her heart beat with real concern. This was going to be a problem. Like sure, Jade had the type of core strength people wrote songs about and a deceptively powerful frame only hunter genetics supplied, but little ol' lady being pulled by Oliver and Ariadne? Not so much. She doubted she could hang from the stairs the way Jade was doing. But three young adults could totally work together to ensure one frail old woman got out of the building before them, right? Totes. “Okay, um… Give her to me,” she reached down, wrapping one arm around the woman’s midsection and trusting Oliver and Ariadne to work in tandem with her. “Hi, honey…” she offered a bright smile despite the darkness they were immersed in, hoping to soothe the frazzled look on the woman. “Let’s get you further up, yeah?” With Oliver and Ariadne’s help and the intention to join forces with those ahead of them, they would get the woman closer and closer to the roof access.

That was, until an unnatural screech pierced the air. The grip she had on the woman tightened, feeling Oliver and Ariadne work along with her. Jade felt the scream deep in her bones, rattled by it, but too shocked to sink into any feelings of despair about what the sound could be preceding. Were they about to go down for real? If they were doomed then… Okay, so…The vibration, at least, felt nice once…. It became a constant. If anything, it vibrated better than her… nope. So not the time. It sure was an excellent vibration, though. The walls shook, but it wasn’t the bricks that suffered from the sound. The sludge that had been pooling below them hard like a rock, collapsed. Then it disintegrated. Jade glanced down, locking eyes with part of her team, the same confused expressions mirroring back at her. The floor grumbled beneath, likely adjusting to the lack of goo. And was that… a good or bad thing? Probably better not stay long to check, right? Some celebratory shouts came from all the way from the top, and the line started moving faster. Whew. 

Jade made sure to leave the little old lady in better hands before lowering herself to her team. She had a clear question in her mind, one that was answered even before she opened her mouth. A flash of blonde hair from her favorite arch-nemesis had Jade hooting. “That gang’s back! Now please, move your cute butts up.” 

She didn’t like the idea of leaving somebody behind, but Mack was insisting and Jade was already on her way, probably, and Ollie knew Ariadne too well for her to pull any quick sort of move. Even if she wasn’t four anymore, he probably could grab her and further insist that she climb the stupid ladder if she tried to run. So, begrudgingly, she started to make her way up, helping the old lady, grateful that Ollie and Jade also both seemed eager to help her, too. Though there was no reason to have expected any other sort of reaction, because they both seemed like really excellent people.

“I - I’m gonna move, I promise.” Ariadne scrunched up her nose, then her whole face.

– didn’t really know what else to do, since words might’ve never been her particular forte, and certainly weren’t doing her favors right at this particular moment.

If it were possible for her knuckles to get any whiter, they were, now, as she gripped the sides of the ladder, only focused on why she was bothering to get out. She wanted to live. Or live-un-live, whatever she technically did. Wynne was out there, and so were her parents. Alex and Cass. Too many other people. She needed to go and watch a ballet in as many places as she could.

Suddenly, though, Ariadne was jerked out of her thoughts by a piercing scream, one that she couldn’t even fully cover her ears, given how her hands were holding tight onto the ladder. Except then she thought she heard Mack’s voice, and whipped her head around. “You – I – you got out!” She swallowed. “I – that’s good. That’s good. We really all need to go though, now, and now we can, ‘cause you’re here.”

Just-outlined by the downtown, late-night light falling in through that so-close exit, the old lady reached ahead to take the many hands coming through the door for her. Ollie had fallen a few steps behind Deeny and Jade, clinging to the stair rail all the way and darting looks back into the pitch black, gooed-up level they were leaving - entirely unsure if he was more or less worried because he couldn’t see Mack-the-maybe-probably-zombie. As if she’d come ripping out of the darkness, all bloody drool and grasping hands, a jump scare. 

Mack, who’d helped get all these people out, when she could’ve absolutely massacred them. Except… monsters look like people all the damn time, Willa sighed, weeks ago. Act like people, too. Just look at you.

Fingers clenched a little tighter on that railing, Ollie wavered - eyes entirely on the still-sinking shadows far below them, now. Just look. She’d stood up and saved them. Where was she? He’d taken a step down, not letting go of the rail. Until a shriek broke his grip on everything, slapping his scraped-up hands to his ringing ears. It was - it had to be that kind of shriek, that kind of ringing, the kind that’d left him cold on the shore of Silver Lake. Dr. Kavanagh?

Whoever’s the first scream was, the second was his: a hoarse, frantic yelp as he unscrewed his eyes to find Mack charging up the stairs to meet them. Ollie choked that off, quick, heart hammering. “Mack! Hi! Hi. Are you - you’re okay?” Okay enough to keep not eating anyone? Ideally. 

Mackenzie was grateful for whatever that high-pitched shrill scream had been. Being afraid of the dark had never been her thing, but after being enclosed and engulfed in goo, that and a fear of tight spaces wasn’t anything she wanted to experience again anytime soon. And never in her life had she been so grateful to see a friend, a stranger, and a creep (the creep being Jade) after what felt like an eternity of being alone (again, granted it was probably only like twenty minutes. Goo was no joke).

Letting her eyes fall on each of them, and the group still crowding towards the top, a relieved smile washed over her face, but when she went to answer Oliver, instead of words coming out like they had earlier, she started to choke and cough until goo oozed out of her mouth. Mackenzie, rather than holding up the line anymore, gave him a thumbs up, before motioning for them to follow Jade’s lead and move forwards, and as they reached the top of the building, fresh air and the sound of voices reached all of them. The survivors that the group of four had escorted up had started to scream for the attention of anyone that could help them.

It had been quite a while since the Earth had shifted under their feet, but it still wasn’t the most stable of locations to be and the roof seemed to be at an angle and one that Mackenzie had wished she could warn people to be careful walking onto, but had no voice at the moment. Instead, she kept an eye on the older people and moved closer towards the edge of the building looking down at the small figures on the ground. Then the idea hit her, pulling out her phone, she was just about to switch on the flashlight, when she noticed the screen and contents of the iPhone had been cracked under the pressure of the goo. But it appeared as someone near her had picked up on the idea and soon other people did, and before she knew it, everyone had their phones lit up as a way to catch the attention of anyone who could rescue them.

Ariadne, Jade, Oliver, & Mack had done it. They had gotten an entire group of people out to safety and now it was up to whomever was waiting below to finish the job.

[nightmaretist]

@arustysnake from here

[PM] Conveniently, I'm all out of brain to muddle! So there's nothing between me and a pile of power marking. And then the wedging, that's basically a reward. No thoughts, just clay. For hours. Completely ok Very oka It will be! Just some family things. Bit of a nightmare. For now! Shouldn't be Won't be a problem for too long, I hope think. I'm very aware that we're coming up on end of semester, here. I'll keep get all that assessment on schedule, going forward.

[pm] Oh no, and all that during the summer? Where have you braincells gone off to? I don't want you to lose your braincells by being my TA. I get the sentiment about the wedging though, there's something about the rhythm of it ... I tend to get lost in those repetitive tasks.

Ah, family things, they do tend to be taxing at times. You don't have to expand or explain if you don't want to. Please don't I hope it resolves itself promptly. Much appreciated though, I'm sure you'll manage it all within the timeframe. [...] What're your plans post-semester?

[faunandfl0ra]

I mean if people didn't go places they aren't supposed to.

The dirt? Oh you've got those crystals there? I agree, those are dangerous.

They do, I think. The cat sometimes sleeps with him.

Really? That's cause there are no Australian badgers. Those would be bigger yet. Horse sized. And they'd probably be venomous.

Oh yeah, I've heard people say that the worms are dangerous. I think I'll just go ahead and assume all animals are deadly, except for my cat and my lamb. They are baby, not deadly.

[magmahearts]

@arustysnake:

[PM] Nothing serious! Not really. I hurt my shoulder. A bit. Ha, that's not funn The painting one, so. It'll happen! Just, a little slower than I'd hoped.

[pm] What did you do to it? Did you [...] bend it wrong or something? [...] That's okay. We don't have to do it or anything. If you're hurt.

[magmahearts]

[PM] Cass! I hope you've been well! I just wanted to apologize, in advance - I might not be able to get my half of our trade absolutely, totally ready for when we were thinking. I promise I'll do my best to be there with something, though!

[pm] Why not? Did something happen?

[magmahearts]

WICKED'S REST as PERIOD DRAMA

( featuring: @raisareigns, @ironcladrhett, @zofiawithaz, @arustysnake, @ariadnewhitlock, & @lukas-dark-miracles )

[chasseurdeloup]

Oh. Right. Of course. I knew that. Obviously. Twenty-eight stitches is still a lot of those. Must have been a big injury.

I don't think either of the things you mentioned are standard issue no matter where you live. Going to elaborate any further or are you going to make me have to piecemeal this together with what I can line up from the animal control records?

That's the normal number! Of rabies shots. At least, so I was told. Is that not the normal nu The surgeon actually suggested taking two weeks, based on how they administer the course, but that's just OUTRAGEOUS. TEN SCHOOL DAYS. IN SEPTEMBER. It's not that many stitches. Really.

What happened was a standard issue Sunday night in this hellhole of a cute seaside burg of ours. A week off work seems absolutely excessive, to me. Given the circumstances.

[magmahearts]

[pm] Okay boomer.

Does the town actually have a motto?

Why? What reasons? You can't just [...] leave. Or sell your house. Nobody's going to want to buy your house, anyway, so it's probably better just to stay in it. What if you sell it to someone and they touch the Abnormality and get, like, swallowed up by it or something? That would really suck, and you wouldn't want that, so you should just stay.

Mine is [...] slow. I had to stop for a while.

[PM] Technically, I'm a mid-late millennial. And seventy-five's not bad, as years go. Aspirational. I might even be retired by then! Just a little mid-late millennial jok

Could be the town motto, honestly!

You have a poin Exciting? Point deducted. I kind of absolutely do have to. For so many reasons!. Are y Are you oka Stupid question. Eventually. But I've got at least a semester's worth of clearing out and fixing up to do before the house is remotely marketable, if it'll ever be that. And I'm supposed to be turning into an open-season freak any day now, allegedly, which is just, yeah, a lot, to work on.

So! Loads of time to finish that painting. Tons. Heaps. How's yours coming along? How are you, you sou

[singdreamchild]

[pm] I suppose holding off is all we can do with school being in an uproar with the goo. Half the kids aren't coming to school because their parents are afraid while another sliver isn't coming because no one else is. A right mess. Well, displaced and sound is more like it. Goo overtook my home, sadly.

[PM] Very! I'll miss working with her, really. Inspirational. So much nightmare fuel, tho

Oh, understandable. Totally. Like we don't have enough to do! If you'd rather skip the crowd, you could always stop by after hours - it'll all be set up in the multipurpose room. A bit crowded, but we make do. Or we will, once the whole goo emergency is sorted out. How are you doing, with that? Safe and sound?

[chasseurdeloup]

Four rabies shots? And twenty-eight stitches? What the fuck happened?

Whoever fucking mauled me at the corner store, you need help. Medical help. Immediately. See a doctor. Call a nurse. Something, Jesus CHRI

Keeping in mind that school's barely started, and this is an especially delicate time in the life of a class, nevermind an art class - would you consider four rabies shots and twenty eight stitches a valid reason to book a solid week off? Because that's what the surgeon recommended. And I think that's fucking ridiculous. A whole week?? With a substitute??? God, the office would absolutely call Mr. Chase, too. Can't believe that musty old bastard STILL hasn't retired??? Now???? When I'm four shots ahead on not having rabi That's not school safe.

[fox--tales]

I mean like it's up there but it's totally not the most freakish thing by any means. Like you're maybe at a solid 6. At best. I heard the other day about someone who was able to lick their eyeball with their own tongue. And even that I'd give like a 7 or 8. Turning your whole head around like an owl would be closer to a 10. Actually, I saw this one guy at the coffee shop who was dressed up like he was the invisible man or something only he was all greyscale. Like he was straight out of Pleasantville or something. That was way freakier than this.

Anyway, if you're the one who swallowed the egg and you totally were, I don't think you have go sign yourself up for the roadside freak show anytime soon.

Please settle this for the staff room. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being "incredibly freakish," thank you, Dr. Irwin, how abnormal is it, actually, really, to be able to swallow a whole egg? Cooked, obviously. Boiled, shelled, mostly. It was an accident, I wasn't thinki Who can do that? Who does that. I'd love some data.