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desperatelyseekingroleplay · 7 years ago

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Roleplay partners wanted!

My name is Rhys. I am 21 years old, she/her, from the CT, love the color magenta, and own two orange tabbies. I’m looking for partners in my conquest to write! While I can't get responses in every day, I am almost always open to chatter and geeking out about all sorts of things.

I write third person, past/present tense, and paragraph form. I'm a novella-ish writer, and do try to crank out at least four-six paragraphs each time I get a response in. Like previously mentioned, I want to stress that while I can't respond every day, everything I do write is full of TLC! I always want to mention this to partners beforehand, because I know some people would rather do rapid fire responses than one or two a week. My limits are pretty general; toilet stuff is a no-no. I don't like to write out top/bottom stereotypes or "seme/uke" tropes. Beastiality, pedophilia, and the like are icky things I would rather avoid.

I write for all genders, ethnicity, and orientations! I am open to any pairings, and beyond that, varying genres.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/18n3iuj4m9X1hBo9P2IezrKdTfkTrSKt0H34ZP6v3hHs

LIMITS

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No unrealistic stereotypes of queer relationships, please. Yaoi, yuri, seme/uke, etc. Can't do that. Characters need to both have versatile roles; switching, so it's fair for everyone. Though, my characters do tend to be a lot more dominating!

{{Very welcoming of BDSM, dom/sub, but this does not mean someone needs to be penetrated every single time in order for the dom to dominate. Get it? This can also apply to heterosexual relationships. I would literally love to see female characters who top, if you know what I mean. If given the chance, I will definitely have dom!females in bdsm-related situations}}

Furries; blegh, no thanks. Beastiality, nekos, anything of sexual animal-related nature is a no-go, fam.

Vore, scat, bathroom stuff, pedophilia. You know the drill! ((I am not opposed to consensual, legal age and non-reproducing incestuous relationships in FICTION! Sex is fine, just no children resulting from it. Reminder; this is fictional.))

Okay, so despite those few limits, I am actually pretty welcoming of anything else. Smut, of course. Some kink a little out there that you want to suggest? Let's do it, dude. I am open to polyamorous relationships, any queer shit you're willing to throw at me lmao I am super OOC friendly and I am pretty much a garbled mess when I get to know you! I am open to crooked relationships, ones that don't function right, fluff and all cuteness, unconditional love-- my interests fluctuate! I am down, 24/7, guys! Here's a list of fandoms and pairings below.

_________

**=Craving

Borderlands

Handsome Jack/Rhys

Handsome Jack/Rhys/Nisha

Rhys/Axton

Handsome Jack/Nisha

Fiona/Athena

Fiona/Vaughn

Rhys/Vaughn

Until Dawn

Josh Washington/Chris

Chris/Mike

Jess/Mike

Sam/Beth

Matt/Jess

Emily/Matt/Jess

Life is Strange

Max Caulfield/Chloe Price

Max Caulfield/Kate Marsh/Victoria Chase

Nathan Prescott/Warren Graham

Rachel Amber/Chloe Price**

Rachel Amber/Frank Bowers

Frank Bowers/Damon Merrick**

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd**

Dick Grayson/Koriand'r

Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

Dick Grayson/Wally West

Oliver Queen/Dinah Lance

Harley Quinn/Pamela Isley

Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

Batman: Telltale Series

Bruce Wayne/John Doe**

Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle

Bruce Wayne/Jim Gordon

Bruce Wayne/Harvey Dent

Bruce Wayne/Harvey Dent/Selina Kyle

Marvel

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Tony Stark/Bruce Banner

Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson

Thor/Bruce Banner**

Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff

Peter Parker/Harry Osborn

Peter Parker/Wade Wilson**

Gwen Stacy/Peter Parker/Harry Osborn

Peter Parker/Wade Wilson/Vanessa Carlysle

Uncharted

Nathan Drake/Samuel Drake**

Nathan Drake/Harry Flynn**

Chloe Frazer/Nadine Ross

Samuel Drake/Rafe Adler

Game of Thrones

Arya Stark/Gendry Waters

Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell

Daenerys Targaryen/Jon Snow

TTGOT

Asher Forrester/Gwyn Whitehill

Rodrik Forrester/Arthur Glenmore

Mira Forrester/Margaery Tyrell

Gryff Whitehill/Elaena Glenmore

Gared Tuttle/Finn

Gared Tuttle/Josera Snow

The Walking Dead

Rick Grimes/Shane Walsh

Rick Grimes/Negan**

Daryl Dixon/Paul “Jesus” Rovia

TWDG

Luke/Nick

Javier Garcia/David Garcia**

Clementine/Gabriel Garcia

Javier Garcia/Paul “Jesus” Rovia

The Mortal Instruments

Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago

Simon Lewis/Jace Lightwood

Isabelle Lightwood/Lydia Branwell

Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane

Infamous: Second Son

Delsin Rowe/Reggie Rowe

Delsin Rowe/Eugene Sims

Delsin Rowe/Hank Daughtry

Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator

Anyone/your dadsona (for the love of god someone give me a good, not cliche john doe dadsona and you will win my heart!! I just want to play a dad lol bring me some great ass ocs)

Far Cry 3

Jason Brody/Vaas Montenegro

The Last of Us

Ellie/Riley

Some basic ideas that I do have pretty big doc ideas for;

A few marine biologists go to an island off the coast to study the marine life there, which in turn, turns out to be something much bigger. (Mermaid/siren prompt!)

Soul mates; it can be like some of those AU’s where you don’t see color until you meet them, your tattooed timer counts down until then, or maybe even soulmates continuously reincarnating and one of the two has killed them for centuries in order to be “immortal”. For the first time, the victimized partner gets close enough that the other begins to fall and they start aging, together.

Character A has an awful time living in the city; alone, and without mom's guidance, completely lost. One day they receive a call about a deceased relative, one they'd never heard of and apparently left their estate and everything in their will to A. With nothing but the clothes on their back, A took a shot and drove out to this presumed "estate", only to find that it's a mansion in a tiny little town with an eerie vibe and populated by the typical small town churchgoers and farm folk. Living in this town was a hell of a challenge; everyone was nice, too nice, and people were missing. Character B is an exceptionally charismatic, charming person and the only mechanic/handyman in town. A and B become friends, partially, when A needs to fix up the piping in their estate. A stumbles upon the attic one day, and for once, they start to get why this whole town reeked to the roots in weird shit-- their deceased relative was tracking something here in this town, having to do with all of the MIA townsfolk. DR has a board of possible suspects, and at the center? B. OSJFODSFHSDJSODFJD!!! Bonus content: B is, in fact, not the murderer, instead a vampire on a mission to track down the monster, same as DR. small towns give me honey moon vibes and I??? am so down for some kinky, albeit eventually fluffy romance between people who are trying to make it work. I actually have a doc for both TBD characters and a location. None of this is set in stone, so please share your thoughts.

A doesn’t have any memories of their life, only being conscious and staring down at a mutilated body in a ditch. When they meet B, they learn why; welcome to limbo, they say. You just died. A has unfinished business; finding out who murdered them, why, and what else is holding them here. B is a reaper intent on helping lost souls pass over-- they were never born, and A shows them the delights of life before it’s taken. B learns to love A, and A doesn’t want to leave limbo. While A’s soul is clinging between realities, B must make a pivotal decision; squeezing tight on the concept of love, and letting A go. (BONUS!! REINCARNATION; A & B ARE GIVEN THE GIFT OF LIVING AGAIN, TOGETHER.)

Coming of age story between two childhood friends who are separated by circumstance, and after ten years, reunite and learn that your first love doesn’t have to be the one that got away.

Two friends drop their whole lives to go on a road trip once they turn thirty-- they elope together, leaving their unhappy lives behind them and in this grand scheme of mental breakdowns and tearful smiles, they find that love may be the only cure to a broken existence.

In a post-apocalyptic world where a pandemic has killed off most living species, Character A is a lone wolf with little to do with other people that don't benefit him, except for a select few. A is especially rough around the edges, as he's lived through some sick shit and lived to tell the tale. A had once been part of a group dedicated to finding a cure, but things went south, and a lot of people died. A had a close bond with the leader of said group, and coincidentally they were the only survivors. Their past together, having been deeply demented and twisted, caused them to fall out. Said leader has rebuilt a new group in the ten years since the last time they'd seen A. Character B is the only known immune person alive, and has dedicated their life to being a resource to finding a cure. A and his (current) contact/partner in crime have something taken from them, and are determined to get it back. They do some searching, and are confronted with this group-- they have what they need, but are only willing to give it to them for a favor in return. No one can outrun their past forever. (Last of Us-inspired!)

An architect/treasure hunter is being funded an expedition to find a lost treasure and they are forced to bring along a reporter in order to receive the funds. the reporter and architect certainly don't get along in the beginning— they bicker, and clash on most fronts. the expedition wasn't meant to be dangerous. what was initially thought to be a simple job turned into something treacherous; bandits, a team of hired hitmen and their leader looking to take the treasure for themselves, and some rather supernatural elements that they both couldn't quite put a finger on. the treasure hunter and the reporter have to work together to get out of this alive, and get to the artifact before someone else does.

..and many more!! Thanks so much! If you've read through, please contact me at [email protected] and mention kiwi somewhere in your email. n_n

Rhys xoxo

#Writing Partner Wanted #Roleplay Partner Ad #Long Term Roleplay Wanted #21+ Roleplay Wanted #submission

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 5 years ago

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[checkmate] [3]

Summary: After ten years of fighting and surviving their way through the apocalypse in search of their son, Hugo and Isabel Sulieman finally find Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth and are ready to reunite with Louis.

Notes: After many hours of writing and rewriting this story, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s going to be way longer than I anticipated [what else is new]. I want to keep the all chapters around the same length [about 5k] so there’s a lot of splitting being done. I think it’s safe to say that there will be more than four parts to this like I had originally planned.

Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy it! Thank you for reading and for all the positive feedback!

As I’ve said before, this is a part of the contest prize story for @bluebutterfly1!

Read on AO3

---

Through the crack of the walker’s skull, blood oozes dark, dripping down the handle of the hatchet and onto his hand. Cold, clotted, and disgusting.

Hugo pushes the dead walker down with a huff just as Isabel finishes off the last one a few steps away.

They’re repulsive, the walkers. Even now, Hugo can’t over their decaying stench and peeling flesh. These walkers, in particular, are more disgusting- fresher walkers usually are.

Older walkers- years and years older- are slower, nothing but leathery skin and bone, weak from muscle deterioration and perhaps even hunger.

Newer walkers are what scare Hugo. Not only are the remains of a humane appearance more present, but they’re stronger, quicker, hungrier.

Killing them is such a normal thing now, he thinks. It’s easier when he considers it as a prevention of more chaos with every walker he kills. One less fresh walker. One less to wander around and devour innocent, unsuspecting survivors. There’s been too much of that.

“All clear,” Isabel says, wiping her knife off on the dirty rag attached to her belt. “Can we make this quick?”

Up close on the pier, the boat is an absolute wreck. Stray pieces of wood jut out of the water, metal stuck swaying with the waves, knocking into the boat. From what he can see, there isn’t a safe enough way for him to climb inside.

“Yep, it’s terrible. A real mess,” Isabel says. “Worst boat I’ve ever stood before in my life.”

Hugo raises a brow, elbowing her with a smirk.

“Worse than The Nauti Buoy?”

Isabel wrinkles her nose. “Ugh. I hated that damn thing.”

The Nauti Buoy was the clever name of his brother’s boat, one Stephen prided himself on, even though he stole the name from another boat he came across in his travels to pass off as his own.

Hugo used to say, “You know how people end up looking like their animals? Well, Stephen looks like his boat.”

Gaudy decor inside and out, painted a terrible antique gold color, much bigger than necessary.

Well, he thought so at the time. After Stephen’s second divorce, he ended up living in the damn thing. Oh, how proud their mother was. At least he was able to keep his prized watch collection safe and secure, because that’s all that really mattered.

Hugo only ever brought his family onto that boat once. Isabel grew so sick an hour in that they had to turn the damn thing around and head back to shore.

Not Louis, though.

Louis loved being on that boat. Not once did he ever get sick, except Hugo had to warn him about leaning too far over the railing to get a better look at the dolphins he spotted. Nearly fell overboard and gave Hugo a heart attack.

Seeing Louis’ glowing face as he marveled at the waves and salty air was what inspired Hugo to invest in a boat of his own.

Louis named it Gus.

Didn’t really have a reason, he just thought the boat looked like a Gus.

Hugo smiles.

“It wasn’t that bad, just ugly,” he says. “What do you think happened?.”

“I told you, someone blew it to shit,” Isabel says. “What exactly are you expecting to find?”

“Something useful,” Hugo kneels down, pressing a hand against the boat to steady himself as he leans in through a gaping hole. “Clothes, weapons, maybe food.”

“Hey, careful-”

“Look, through there? I can see a couple of crates floating inside. Worth checking out. Here, why don't you go check along the shore, I’ll see if I can grab one.”

“How about I stay right here and help you? I know you’re gonna fall in and I’ll have to fish you out.”

“I’m not gonna fall in,” Hugo rolls his eyes. “Have some faith in me.”

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in you, Hugh,” Isabel frowns. “I’d just rather prevent a disaster than try and fix one. Who knows what’s lurking around in these waters.”

“What, you think a shark’s going to gobble me up?”

“No, a walker,” Isabel kneels down beside him. “They can move under there much better than we can, and they don’t gotta breathe. If this ship crashed, odds are there were people on it who were thrown into the water. Hence, walkers.”

Well, damn, he hadn’t thought of that. Leaning over the edge, Hugo squints. The water’s pretty mucky, so he can’t tell how deep it is or what the bottom holds.

“I could out swim a walker, but to put your mind at ease-,” Isabel scoffs “-I’ll look around here some more and see if I can find something to pull the crates closer while you go search the shore, then we can pull the crates out together.”

“Y’know there’s probably nothing in them but useless, sodden supplies, right?” Isabel says, “I mean, I doubt this was some sort of battleship that carried weapons and first aid. Hell, it probably carried toy cars or something.”

“Toy cars?” Hugo laughs. “If that’s the case, then your little friend won’t need to ride around in your bag anymore. He can drive right beside us.”

“You’re not funny.”

“No?” Hugo smirks. “I’m a little funny, c’mon. Geoff driving around in a little car? Honking at the squirrels? Flippin’ me the bird every chance he gets? Hilarious.”

With an exasperated shake of her head, Isabel turns on her heels towards the shoreline, saying, “Fine, I’ll walk around. Don’t touch those crates until I get back because I swear if you fall in-”

“I’m not going to fall in,” Hugo calls after her. “I’m as coordinated as the most athletic breed of... cat!” Cats are coordinated, right?

He wouldn’t know, he never owned one.

He wishes he owned a cat, but Louis insisted on a damn turtle.

Isabel snorts a chuckle. “Yeah, okay!”

“You doubt me?”

“I doubt you.”

“Madam, now you’ve wounded me!”

“You’ll live.”

“Hey, while you’re over there, let Geoff go for a swim, too! He hasn’t done that in a while. He can scout for water walkers.”

That earns him Isabel’s lovely middle finger. He presses a hand against his chest, pushing his lip out in a pretend pout.

“Once again, she chooses the turtle over me.”

That makes Isabel laugh, shaking her head and giving a dismissive wave. “We meet back in five!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Hugo watches her briefly, taking in the sight of her walking along the shore, stepping over pieces of broken wood and rocks. Her loose top flutters with the rustling wind against the curve of her waist and a strange tingle of emotion cause him to pause.

A lifetime ago, Hugo and Isabel walked along a beach.

Much cleaner than this one with a much prettier sight. Along the shores of Makena Beach, they walked together barefoot. Isabel wore a dress she bought in one of the shops, one that fluttered in the wind the same exact way her shirt does now.

She was young, her hair long, curls big and windblown.

Pregnant, about seven weeks along.

“Shit,” Hugo mumbles.

He wonders what the state of Hawaii is, if their walker population is great or not.

Not that it matters.

There’s no way he’ll make it to those shores ever again, much less walk along them with Isabel and Louis.

He always thought about bringing Louis back there, too.

After he graduated high school, Hugo wanted to bring him to look at the colleges. He’d get into the best school they had to offer, of course, because Louis was a straight A student- when properly motivated- and there he’d get his degree while studying the culture and history of Hawaii and its people, land a damn good job and make a name for himself.

He can just see his boy now. Tall and handsome with his mother’s eyes and a beautiful smile... happy and satisfied with his life.

Louis would fall in love with a pretty girl, propose to her, and have a gorgeous wedding on the beach. They’d have a handful of kids, too. Hugo would be more than happy to become a grandfather.

A grandfather... babysitting Louis’ children while he and his lovely wife went out on date nights...

Hugo rubs his eyes along the sleeve of his shirt, sighing.

Nostalgic for what never was, he supposes.

They need to find that school, Hugo thinks. No matter what, once they’re done here- after they’ve scavenged some useful supplies- they’ll head back to the train station to look for a map.

They couldn't find one earlier, but maybe they didn’t look hard enough. They only really looked around to make sure it wasn’t someone else’s home, then headed back this way to check out the wreckage Hugo spotted.

They have to be close, closer than they’ve ever been. From the faintest part of his memory, he remembers the road being long and yet hard to find. He had to pay attention to the road signs, but his concentration was more than unfocused with Louis silently fuming in the backseat.

“You’re only staying for a year, or until we can... until we can sort some things out.”

“...”

“You’ll have a dorm with a roommate. Mr. Davidson told me he’s a good kid, he just... fell down a wrong path, so I don’t want to get any calls about you mistreating him.”

“...”

“This isn’t going to be like your other school. You will be respectful to your roommate, your classmates, and your teachers. No excuses, no exceptions. Understand?”

“...”

“Louis, answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“...”

Hugo glances back at the boat.

He hopes there’s something to gain from doing this, but at the very least, he got to see an old-timey riverboat like this up close. Little things..

Hugo pays another look to Isabel as she inspects a piece of soggy wood before pushing away from the boat to move along the pier. Over the edge, the corner of what looks to be a crate sticks up. Dropping down to his knees with a slight wince- damn leg!- Hugo rolls up his sleeves, sinking his hands in the chilled water.

Thoughts of the cool waves crashing against the shores of Makena Beach haunt him, memories of swimming and laughing and kissing-

“Shit,” Hugo finds a good grip on the crate and yanks. “Knock it off-”

It barely budges, caught on something.

He tries again, grunting at the horrible pull in his back. A shock jolts through his bad leg, making him bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from yelping. Letting go, he adjusts his position.

“There’s nothing over here!” Isabel calls. “Just garbage!”

With a better, firmer grip, Hugo pulls. The crate loosens, lifting up out of the water.

“Damn it…” Hugo gives an exasperated sigh.

It’s empty and broken, it’s bottom missing. Whatever goods filled it are nowhere to be found.

“Damn, damn, damn,” he mutters, standing to rub his dripping hands along his pants, kicking the useless crate back into the water. “Double damn.”

He opens his mouth to shout out a complain, but sees Isabel down closer to the water, her open bag beside her. Grinning to herself, she holds onto Geoff as he moves through the water.

Hugo thinks to make a joke both to tease her and make himself feel better about his lack of findings, but decides against it. Instead, he soaks in the sight of her content smile.

Moving along the pier, he calls out, “Hey, got a question for you!”

“No!”

Hugo laughs.

“You ever think about growing your hair out again?”

Isabel’s face scrunches up in a way that tells Hugo that’s a dumb question, nearly losing her grip on Geoff.

“You seriously asking me that?” she shakes her head. “Hair like that is nothing but a death trap! Remember back in Peach Creek? Damn walker nearly took a chunk out of my neck! Not only that, but it got its nasty fingers all stuck in it and there was skin and puss and-ugh!”

“Oh shit, that’s right,” Hugo grunts, bending back down along the hardwood to fish out a piece of clothing- a sleeve of a denim jacket. “That was a nice place.”

A nice place, indeed, but one of many that almost killed them.

One of the worst moments in their lives happened while staying with the group at the Peach Creek Clinic.

The people there were sympathetic to their dire situation. After losing their vehicle to a bunch of selfish assholes, barely having anything to their names aside from pictures of Louis and his clothes, the group took them in.

It seemed secure at the time, with a small group and plenty of medical supplies. Scarce food, though. Hugo and Isabel might’ve stayed there longer but anxiousness about getting to West Virginia sent them back on the road after another incident with walkers breaking in.

Half the group perished during that attack. They’re both lucky Hugo was there to take care of the walker before it got to her, but he couldn’t stop it from getting it’s fingers stuck and tangled in Isabel’s curls.

She was hysterical, tears dripping down her bruised cheeks as Hugo cut out chunks of hair to get the damn hand out. Bodies of their fallen friends surrounded them, and he thought they both might pass out.

When he tried to pick out the remaining pieces of rotten flesh and bone all while attempting to comfort her, Isabel insisted that they just cut it all off.

One of the survivors- shit, what was her name? Yolanda, maybe? Rhonda?- did a nice, clean shave of her head. Short and close to her scalp, nothing for anyone to grab.

They left the next morning. The survivors at the clinic were understanding and kind enough to send them with a bag of medical supplies they were able to spare, and fish food for Geoff, since all the fish within the lobby tank was no longer around.

Through the shallow water closer to shore, the falling sunlight gleams off of something stuck in the sand.

“Ah-ha!” Hugo grins, ignoring the pain in his knee as he shifts into a better position. Rolling up his sleeve, he reaches in to dig through the mushy sand. His thumb brushes something firm.

“Why?” Isabel asks, kicking at another piece of wood on her way back towards the pier. Geoff drips in her hands, merry after spending time in the water. “What brought that on?”

“Was thinking about Hawaii,” Hugo winces, leaning further down into the water, fully submerging his arm.

“Hawa- Hey! What are you doing-?”

“Ah!” Hugo flings himself back, victorious with a muddy knife in his hand. “Ah-ha! Got it!”

“Huh, look at that,” Isabel says.

“Told’ja we’d find something useful. You can never have too many knives,” Hugo grins, pulling a rag from his pocket to wipe the mud away. With a dull, scratched to hell blade, the knife will be just as effective in killing walkers as any other weapon.

“Well, I’ll give it to you,” Isabel says, “a knife is much more than what I found over there.”

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough,” Hugo smirks, which dies when he notices Geoff's perpetual glare fixated on him. A childish impulse to stick his tongue out at the damned creature overwhelms him. He bites it back and returns the glare.

“That’s not long enough to help us grab the crates.”

“There wasn’t anything over there?”

"A couple planks of wood,” Isabel shrugs.

“We don’t need anything fancy, just something long enough to push the crates towards us.”

Isabel looks to the bright sky, searching for any sign of evening coming upon them. They have plenty of daylight left, but Isabel’s patience is running out, replaced with anxiety. She sets Geoff down on the ground.

“Watch him, I’ll grab the one I was looking at.”

“Watch him?” Hugo frowns, pointing at Geoff with his brand new knife. “Where’s he gonna go?”

Geoff glowers up at him, beady black eyes slitted and neck extended up towards him.

Hugo leans down, whispering, “Hey buddy, have you ever heard of caouane, by chance?”

---

They’re a cheery duo, ain’t they?

Thomas smirks.

Hidden among the greens with a shoulder leaning against the sticky bark of a tree, Thomas listens to their bickering. Can’t make out much, unfortunately, but he’s got the gist. Almost reminds him of how he and Julie would talk long ago. Julie was meaner than the girl- what the hell is that she’s carrying?- but that don’t matter now.

Julie’s dead and it’s just Thomas and the beauty in his hand, fully loaded and itchin’ to be fired.

Not that he’s going to go up and shoot the strangers.

They ain’t dangerous from what he can tell- the girl’s got a fire in her but the man’s got a limp.

He don’t know what they’re looking for in the wreckage. Maybe they’re hoping to find some of the kids, but there’s no way this is where they’d hide. No, those kids got ‘em selves a school around here somewhere, even if he and these two don’t know where it is.

But, from the sounds of it, they got an idea and sometimes, that’s enough.

Thomas knows that if he scours these woods long enough, he’ll find the school. The problem is would he find it before these two did? He don’t know how many kids there’ll be, but he knows that if they got two capable adults on their side, then things won’t go as smoothly.

Especially if these two actually find their kid.

Thomas scoffs.

Bunch of twits.

What makes ‘em think they got a chance of seeing their kid again? He’d bet his lucky dollar that their kid is roaming around here as one of the dead if he’s not already in a shallow grave.

Hell, maybe they will find him. Their little baby boy, gaunt, rotten insides with hollow eyes and a hunger for flesh… charging at them with not an ounce of recognition… and even as they’re begging him to stop, screaming, “Stop, it’s us! It’s your mommy and daddy, son! Remember us? Remember us-”

No, he don’t remember nothing. The dead don’t remember.

The kid’ll just keep scurrying towards ‘em… arms held out and jaw slack.

Maybe they’ll be so distraught that they just let their kid chew ‘em both up.

Together. Undead.

The gun is heavy in his hand.

Quiet laughter.

Thomas, fingers wrapped painfully tight around his gun, squints back over at the pier.

They’re trying to get something out of the wreckage, using a long chunk of wood to do so. Thomas leans up, attempting to get a better look at ‘em. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out an old pair of glasses. Not his prescription, but he ain’t the picky type. Though they’ll bring on a mean headache later, they help him get a better look at the couple still struggling to get something out of the boat.

Down on their hands and knees, they work together to fish out whatever’s in there all while engaging in jovial chatter.

Pretty girl, Thomas thinks. Real nice shape.

Times like these he wishes he’d find himself a pair of binoculars.

Raspy groans emit from his right. A pair of walkers trod along, interested in all the commotion being made along the shore.

Just in time.

More’ll be coming here pretty quick- he saw a whole handful of them about a mile away, mingling together in search of something to tear their teeth into. He whistled at ‘em, then took off back to where he is now. He’s lucky these two ain’t quick in their accomplishments.

A walker- male, wearing a heavy coat and missing his left eye- hisses through his unhinged jaw as he crawls closer to where Thomas hides.

He ain’t worried about it. The more walkers that come, the better.

Ducking down lower, ignoring the age-old ache forever lining his back, he moves closer. Already the strain of his sight through the glasses brings on a fuzzy twinge behind his right eye.

“I got it, just need to-”

“Careful-”

Behind this tree, he can actually make out most of what they’re saying now.

“On three, alright?” the man says.

Together, they grunt out, “One… two… three!”

Thomas almost applauds. They managed to find something in the wreckage, and from the looks of it, that something is a crate. Well, he’ll be darned.

What else could be floating around in that thing? Thomas never paid it much mind upon first discovery- he wasn’t ever going to explore it. Not worth getting his boots wet, that’s for damn sure.

Also, he ain’t the best swimmer.

Let ‘em do the grunt work. He can come back and look through it later.

“See?” The man says, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Fully intact.”

“Don’t celebrate until we get it open.”

“Really eager to see these toy cars, huh?”

“If there are actually toy cars in here, I’m going to strangle you.”

The man laughs, throwing a playful elbow towards the girl’s shoulder.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Thomas raises an interested brow.

“Don’t be gross,” the girl laughs.

“You’re right, sorry. I wouldn’t want to talk dirty in front of Geoff.”

Geoff? There ain’t no one else around...

“As if we haven’t scarred him enough in the past,” the man adds.

“Just shut up and open the damn thing so we can go.”

Another gurgle, this time closer. Thomas slinks back further into the bushes, breathing slowly, silently. He’s confident none of the walkers’ll find him. They’re as stupid as dirt with no actual hunting skills, thankfully.

Thomas can’t imagine anyone would’ve made it as far as they have if the damned dead were smarter than the living.

Then again, lots of folks are dead.

Grabbing a heavy-duty rock from beside his foot, Thomas eyes the walkers moving past him. They’re foul, both in appearance and odor. Looks like they got torn apart real good when alive, too, given their shredded clothes and chunks of flesh torn from their arms and waist.

The one-eyed walker crawls past.

What a way to go, Thomas thinks as he chucks the rock towards the shore, sending it crashing into one of the larger boulders with an echoing crack.

It draws everyone's attention, the walkers practically wheezing with glee- well, Thomas likes to imagine they’re gleeful to have something to sniff out.

The couple jumping to their feet.

“Ah, fuck!”

“What the hell was- Oh shit-!”

The walkers approach the shore, quicker now that they have a meal to pursue.

Thomas checks the chamber of his fully loaded gun.

---

Hugo almost had it.

With his knife jammed along the side of the lid, he was ready to pop it off victoriously.

A startling crack broke his concentration, causing him to lose his grip. The knife slips from the crack and jerks, slicing into the muscle below his thumb.

“Ah, fuck!” Hugo cries out, dropping the knife to cradle his bleeding hand. Blistering pain shocks through his fingers and up his arm.

“What the hell was- Oh shit-” Isabel reaches out for his arm, holding on with a death grip. “Walkers!”

“What?”

The crate before him forgotten, Hugo whips around.

A group of walkers head down the shore, each groaning and moving as fast as their decaying bodies can carry them.

What?

Where the hell did they come from? They made sure to scour the woods from the train station to the boat and take care of any straggling walkers that stood in their way. There weren’t that many. The most they had to deal with were along the shores.

“There wasn’t a single walker for miles,” Hugo exclaims. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“Don’t know,” Isabel says, staring up at him with wide eyes. She does a double-take when she notices the blood dripping from his hand. “Oh my god, Hugh, what the hell?”

“I’m fine, I slipped. It's just a scratch-”

“A scratch? Seriously?” She grabs his hand, inspecting the wound with wide eyes. "Bullshit, a scratch!"

“Forget it,” Hugo grabs the rag from his belt and ties it around his hand. “There’s only five of them. Nothing we can’t handle-”

“There isn’t only five, look!”

She’s not wrong- on their right, more come hobbling out of the woods.

Hugo looks from the approaching walkers, down to the unopened crate, down to his bleeding hand. He winces, picking his knife back up.

“We can handle them.”

“We could handle them if they didn’t already see us!”

“I’ll take the ones on the left-”

“Hugh, we gotta go! Forget the damn crates, they’re not worth dying for. Not now!”

Damn it...

"We're not risking everything!"

She pulls him forward with her down the pier, their boots clanking loudly against the worn wood, making the walkers perk up more.

Isabel jumps over the side, splashing in the shallow water in hopes of cutting across the shore and into the woods before the walkers get any closer. An easy plan Hugo could follow if it weren’t for the three walkers emerging from their intended destination, blocking their path.

A nasty growl from his right sent Hugo whipping around. A walker- a woman with an exposed neck and chest cavity, missing clumps of hair from beneath her hat- hurries towards him.

Fuck it.

Hugo surges forward, grabbing the sticky bones of the walker's throat. The knife plunges through the side of its head with ease, and the walker falls to the ground. Hugo lets out a shaky breath, grunting out at the searing pain throbbing in his hand, painful enough to cause spots in his vision.

“Hugo, I swear to Christ- don’t you dare get that hand-” Isabel kicks the shin of another walker. It falls to its knees, the perfect height for her to stab it through the head before sending the limp body crashing into yet another walker. A chain reaction of the force causes three of the walkers to fall back.

“Use your gun,” Isabel tells him, attacking those fallen monsters as fast as she can.

“That’ll just attract more!”

“So what? Kill these bastards so we can make a run for it!”

That’s assuming that he can successfully kill all of them, which he can’t with his last five bullets.

There’s more than five left.

More than ten, maybe.

He can’t count.

Where the fuck did they come from? He knows they weren't loud enough to attract this many.

A walker with one eye crawls along the sand, grabbing at his ankle to gnaw on his boot. This knife breaks its skull with a sickening crack, the odor enough to churn his stomach.

“Hugo, now!” Isabel shouts, stabbing another walker and pushing through.

Hugo tries to follow.

Even in its final death, the walker's grip remains strong on his ankle. He stumbles right into the grip of a heavyset walker, this one much younger, fresher compared to the decaying monsters- stronger.

A full set of rotten teeth snap at him. With his forearm pressed firmly against the chest of the monster, Hugo reaches back to grab his gun from its holster.

The shot rings in his ears, rattling his brain as gore explodes through the back of the walkers head. The earth swerves beneath his feet, acids in his stomach rise into his throat. He coughs, spitting into the dirt.

Through nausea, Hugo aims.

Another two shots- two walkers fall to the ground, motionless.

A third.

A fourth- fuck.

Hugo lets off his final shot, hitting a walker struggling with Isabel. Seeing it’s no longer a threat, Isabel grabs onto it, heaving it towards another and sending them crashing. She’s by his side again, huffing, “Let’s go!”

Hugo nods.

He has no idea where the fuck these things came from, or how they showed up so suddenly, but he knows she’s right- whatever the hell is in that crate isn’t worth there lives, not when they’re so close-

“Shit!”

A hand grabs his backpack, jerking him backward. The foul stench of the walker's breath warms his ear and everything within Hugo runs cold. He throws an elbow, twisting himself around in the walker's embrace.

He doesn’t see the fallen walker behind him.

They both tumble to the ground. The gun slips out of his grip.

“Hugo!”

A sixth shot.

The walker's blood splatters across Hugo’s face, and for a moment, he thinks he’s dead. The body slouches over him, unmoving.

A seventh shot- an eighth-

Isabel grabs the walker by its shirt, hauling it off of him before dropping to her knees. Her hands move all over him as she gasps out, “Holy shit, please, oh please, tell me you’re okay!”

Several more shots fire, and one by one, the remaining walkers fall.

Then there’s silence.

Hugo reaches for his gun, scooping it up from the dirt before Isabel helps him up. He falls forward onto his bad knee.

“Augh!”

“Sorry- c’mon-!”

Finally on his feet, Hugo surveys the area.

All the dead are just that- fallen on the ground.

“Are-” Hugo coughs “-are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Isabel shakes her head, narrowed eyes darting all around the forest. “Pissed off, but fine.” Without taking her sight off the forest, she slips her backpack off to glance inside. “Geoff’s okay, too.”

Terrific.

Because Hugo was so worried.

Isabel leans down, whispering, “Hugh… someone’s here.”

He assumed so.

The walkers didn’t shoot themselves.

“Give me your gun.”

Hugo cocks his head to murmur in her ear, “We’re out of bullets.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

The snapping of wood and rubber against rocks turns their attention back to the woods where a man walks out, waving over at them with a grin.

“Howdy!” he calls out, voice gruff and accent thick.

Isabel snatches the gun from his hand before Hugo has a chance to protest, pointing it and stopping the man in his tracks.

“That’s close enough!”

“Woah, woah,” the man holds his hands up in surrender, though keeps his grip on his gun just as tight.

“Belle-” Hugo warns, but the man chuckles lightly.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya. I mean no harm! Heard the gunshots and saw y’all were havin’ some trouble, thought I’d lend a helpin’ hand. You folks alright?”

Isabel doesn’t lower the gun, keeping her eyes fixated on the man as he cautiously continues to walk over.

“We’re fine,” Hugo answers. “Fine, no bites, just a little startled. Thanks for the help.”

“We could’ve handled it,” Isabel adds. “Thanks.”

The man nods, saying, “No, you look plenty capable, didn’t mean to say ya don’t. Just didn’t want to see any more folks die, y’know? Not when I could do the decent thing and help.”

He’s close now, close enough for Hugo to better make out the details of his graying, ginger beard and bald head. He pulls his glasses off and pockets them with his free hand, blinking rapidly as he grins.

“Name’s Thomas,” he greets. “Nice to meet’cha.”

#[checkmate]#twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg clouis #clouis #twdg louisentine #louisentine #twdg hugo #twdg isabel #twdg tenn #twdg geoff

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