#textrigger

[laststvnd-blog]

     They weren’t often afforded the luxury of days off, in or outside martial law and bricks walls, but when they were, the days were good. She finally broke out that spare that she saved for them from their last few runs, promised him ‘ our next day, we’ll crack it open ‘  and she’d even agree to play him cards again. Tess took a sip from her glass, feeling the cool burn slip down her throat as she looked over the remaining hand on the over turned fruit crate.     Of course, Joel was quiet when she was scoping the playing field.         “Alright, where’s the heart...I knew you were gonna play dirty again.”                                     @textrigger / ♡.

[brokehisfinger-blog]

❛   i  don’t  get  it.    ❜       a  scarred  brow  knits  unto  its  twin  as  she  sits  ‘pon  a  desk.  to  think  !  this  library  was  once  bustling  with  numerous  bookworms    (    *    having  to  be  silent ,  joel  had  said    )  crowding  around  shelves  readying  for  a  new  adventure.   an  imaginative ,  YOUTHFUL  mind ,  &  yet  it’s  a  scene  she  cannot  capture.      ❛     —   twenty  years  ago   ...   you  know ,   when  the  whole  thing  happened  ...  did  people  really  have  no  clue  ?  the  infection  must’ve  spread  fast.     ❜

@textrigger​  /  💕

[brokehisfinger-blog]

"Keep moving or you'll die!"

❛   yeah ,  no  shit  !    ❜       confronted  by  a  pack  of  enemies  at  the  heel ,  hurried  shoes  pounding  against  concrete ,   arms  swinging ,   bullets  firing ,   infected  GURGLING ,    &    yet  with  SARCASM  still  upon  that  tongue.             a  DESPERATE  palm  ushers  her  onward     &     increases  speed   ——   she  requires  only  the  sound  of  thundering  steps  &  pants  to  know  he  follows.  one  simple  turn  around    &    a  spark  of  regret.    joel’s  aged  visage  has  wrinkled  into  distress   (  *   or  perhaps   FURY  ?   )    &    behind  that  the  once - humans ,   six  at  least ,   with  but  one  emotion  :  HUNGER.   heart  races   &   so  does  she.   one  bullet  fires.   but  the  focus  is  to  FLEE.    

both  barge  into  the  OUTSIDE   WORLD    !         &        the  older  slams  a  door  with  his  own  body.   breathless ,  he  merely  points  toward  a  heavy  dumpster.  the  two  are  as  one  however.   she  need       not  require  a  single  glance  before  she  can  read  that  mind   ——   that  COMPLEX  mind   ——   to   begin  to  maneuver  the  object.      an  uproar  as  rain  seeps  unto  the  metal     &     above  sounds  of  hideous  babbles ,     he’s   yelling   at   her   to   HURRY ,    calling  her  name ,    growling    &    cussing.   distant  yells  turn  to  nearby  shrieks.      closer   &   closer  !     ‘till  he  moves   &   steel  clashes  against  steel.        there  is  nothing  but  the  sobs  of   the   infected   accompanied  by  balled  fists  BANGING  against  the  material. 

❛     jesus  …  i  think  that  should  hold  them.     ❜      but  not  for  long.  such  words  escape  from  a  PATHETIC  excuse  of  a  smile.        ❛    psh  !  were  you  worried  ?  i  wasn’t  even  worried.  were      you  ?    ❜       but  she  acknowledges  that  stare   &   sweat  pouring  from  both  brows.   cue  a  lengthy  sigh  &  movement  of  hands  unto  hips.       ❛     okay  let’s  not  stay  here  longer  than  we  have  to.  agreed  ?   ❜

MEME.