#━━ ✦ 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀

[missmvrder]

closed starter for @justsurv1vor based on 008 from here

Travelling with others was not something that pleased her but her sister had pleaded that they stayed with a few others, at least until Leti was healed from a recent fall that injured her ankle and she had given in to her demands. She hated to admit it, but Marcia was right, they needed a little extra help, only until she was back entirely on her feet. Leti could travel, but running and fighting were not going as well and of course, the injury wasn't healing as fast as she wanted, there was no time to rest her ankle. So they pushed on, slower than she would have liked and the fact that it was mostly because of her was something that angered her. Until finally, they seemed to catch a break, a scout from a community finding them. It seemed too good to be true, and it probably was. Leti wasn't trusting, even before the end of the world, and she was even more on her guards now. But they promised them a place to stay and being able to rest for a few days could only do her good. As soon as she was healed, she would grab her sister and they would be on their way.

They had been there for a couple of days now, and Leti was able to put a bit more weight on her ankle. She had taken walks around the community, an isolated housing community that was still in the building stages when things went bad, abandoned and then found by a group of people. Their goal was to find other survivors and bring them here, to build a community that was safe. But there was something else about it, something unsettling about the leaders. "They're hiding something," she told one of her travelling companions. She couldn't tell what it was, mostly a feeling nagging her, but she knew she was right. "All these supplies, there's no way they got it just by scavenging." Maybe that was the problem or maybe there was something else. The supplies was the obvious thing to her, but then again, maybe this was normal for such a community.

[missmvrder]

"Don't get up," Leti said as she watched the other try to do exactly that and fail. The woman seemed to have a lot of questions and Leti was starting to wonder if she didn't prefer her unconscious. She had no clear answers to most of them. "My name's Leticia and this is my place." At least it had been recently but it was someone's else before that and if her sister wasn't near, it would be someone's else after. That was how things were now, ownership wasn't formal and signed on a piece of paper.

"I don't know what happened to you," she said with a shrug. "I found you like this." And for some absurd reasons, she decided to get involved. In the old world, getting involved, helping a stranger in need, was what was expected of people. But in this one? Most people would probably have looked the other way. And Leti was certain she belonged to this world more than the old. "I don't know why I'm doing it and the more you ask about, the more I wonder it too." There was half a smile with her words "What's your name? Here, take some water, you've been out for a while." Leticia handed her a clean glass of water, something that was rare at times.

the first thing eleanor notices is the warmth radiating through her entire body— is this what heaven feels like? had she finally be able to escape the never ending nightmare of the apocalypse? . . . no, she didn't have such luck. eyelids flutter open and a look of confusion immediately washes over her expression.

she sits up with a groan, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. the voice startles her. "who are you? where-where am i?" eyebrows furrow as eleanor tries to remember what the hell happened ⸻ her entire body is aching and bruised. what happened couldn't have been a pretty sight. "did.. did you save me?" multiple emotions rush through her body; despite how many horror stories she had heard over the months, there were still good people in this world. people willing to help someone in need. eleanor chokes up. "thank you.."

the injured woman tries to stand up but falls back on the bed almost instantly. there's no way she can survive in this condition. once the sharp pain passes, eleanor asks: "why are you helping me? i'm.. i'm no one to you."

[missmvrder]

You don’t have to be rude. For some reasons, these words sounded like the funniest thing and Rez laughed, a genuine one, the kind he hadn't had in a long time. He knew it sounded like he was laughing at her but he didn't care, the act of laughing like this being almost too foreign to acknowledged the rest. No, he didn't have to be rude, and at the same time, he did. This was the world they were in now. "You used to break into people's home often before?" The question was not asked in a way that was intended to be mean. It just seemed so absurd to tell someone they didn't have to be rude after finding out someone had been in their space without them knowing. "Being rude seems almost expected, no?" He was almost teasing her now, something that was far from his attitude moments ago. She was a rollercoaster this one, crying one second and sounding almost irritated the next. Somehow, he didn't fully believe her when she said she wasn't messy but that was still to be discovered.

Admittedly, inviting her to stay for the night was the worst possible idea and yet, Rez didn't entirely regret it. It had been an impulsive invitation, even if it was backed with a solid sense of survival. Unless they had sent their best actress, Rez doubted she was lying about all she had told him so far and his first instinct, well, second, after looking out for himself, was to ensure she was safe. Helping others, it was a feeling he missed, a side of himself he thought gone for good. It wasn't a desire to play hero, but a part of himself from before, a strong sense of morals.

"Joining one could be the best thing for you. What if the next person you cross doesn't care for others?" His tone was slightly scolding, something he had no doubts would irritate her even more. In a way, he liked that side of her best, the one that was fighting. "Why would I do that? I have a nice place, you know that. Leave all this behind? Might have to, seems to become a prime spot." Rez couldn't argue with her words, having seen himself too much of what they did, having done some of it himself. He had been misguided and it weighed on him. Solitude suited him more, that way no harm could be done. At least, none to those who didn't deserve it. "No one from before who made it like you?" His tone was softer now, knowing just too well what it was like to find yourself alone, without any familiar faces surrounding him. "There are people who can look, sometimes people only get separated and don't know how to find those they knew." The man knew giving out even such small hope was cruel, most times people were truly gone, but he found himself unable to resist doing so, to offer her something. "I could put you in touch with one of them."

okay, well, that was good. leti’s impulsive confession that she had no one looking out for her and, thus, no one that would miss her hadn’t brought the gun in his hand back to eye level. so maybe he was mean, but he wouldn’t kill her just for an unintended b&e. if anything, maybe she was learning he, too, was surviving through avoiding other people. if it meant she didn’t die some horrible, unspeakable death, she’d happily live alone for an eternity, but … leti wasn’t a loner. she wasn’t even an introvert. solitude was okay and she’d learned to love living by herself before the outbreak, but she’d never wanted to be all alone.

at his question, she gave him a puzzled look and sort of shrugged her shoulders. how would she know? and then he was pissed again and instead of crying she just felt irritated. “what?” she asked him, brows still furrowed, but the indignance of a child being questioned for a crime the didn���t commit plain on her face. she crossed her arms and pointed a finger at him. “you’re the one who said a few weeks! i haven’t been here that long.” not that it even really mattered.

“i know you’re pissed, but you don’t have to be rude.” as if this was worse than pointing a gun at her. “i’m not messy.” leti had been messy in her old life in some ways, but she’d lived on her own. the dishes were always done, but she always had a pile of discarded outfit choice on the floor. there was often a clean laundry pile on the chair in her room and clothes just outside of the hamper, but she wasn’t a slob. certainly not now. “i don’t even unpack. mostly things are the way they were when i got here.”

as if really trying not to be a jerk, he offered her to stay and she sighed, shifting her weight from one hip to the other and leaning against the wall. she didn’t trust the guy, but he hadn’t shot at her or said anything monumentally creepy. she could probably find a room in the place she could lock herself in til morning. the primary bathroom even had a tub large enough she could sleep in it.

if she’d talked to anyone since the outbreak, she might’ve already been sick of this speech. the you’re a burden, maybe you can find someone else. it’s like she was being dumped and she hadn’t even been on a date. “i’ll leave in the morning, but i’m not going to join up with some group.” it was just too risky. and not that it was his business in the first place what she did when she left! then, she got softer too. and curious. “if they’re not so bad, why are you here?” wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she bit her lip. “i’ve seen too much aftermath of what they do to each other. maybe if i–” had been with family when it happened. or if she’d had anyone she could’ve trusted. but there were too many bodies between where she started and where she was and like some video game her cousin chuy would’ve played, she could piece together the signs of what happened. sometimes betrayal. sometimes the dead. she cleared her throat. “–if i’d known somebody. but i don’t.” she didn’t know anybody anymore.

[missmvrder]

People always talked about events that shaped your life in a before and after. Sometimes it was something small, sometimes it was big. Everyone had their own interpretation of what it was, of how they defined it. And for a long time, Rez thought that it had already happened to him, when his father passed after a work incident. And then his mother met Rod and not long after he moved them all to a small town in the middle of nowhere, preparing for doomsday with more than bible verses. Rez hated it, every seconds of it, even more when the obsession slowly took over the whole small house all the way to the garage, Rez's drum kit ending on the sidewalk. It took three hour to move the whole thing to the other side of town, where the bassist of his band lived, all by foot. He couldn't wait to graduate and move somewhere else, anywhere else and leave this nonsense behind. It wasn't even a week to graduation and he was driving to California, his drums in the trunk and all of his possessions on the backseat.

And for a while it was the life he always dreamed of. Playing in clubs, taking every gigs he could, barely scrapping by and loving every seconds of it. But then the real before and after hit, the kind that redefined everyone's life, not just his own. That's when he appreciated Rod, at least part of the man. Years of enduring the man, of watching him descend into what Rez thought was madness paid off, even if only a little. Because without that, surviving would not even been an option. He was not really good at fighting, didn't use to, having only drunken bar fight to his resume and weapons were foreign. But the rest of the survivalist things had taken roots in his mind without even realizing. Recently, he had taken up residence in some overpriced condo, at least it would have been to in his previous life. After going out a few days for supplies, he had been intrigued, and pissed, to find someone had decided to just move in. "Just clean socks and stuff?" he echoed. "Come on, let's see it." She looked mostly harmless, but so did the best of them. She could be with anyone, scooping out for anyone and the thought of relocating was now running through his mind. Because one thing Rez was also good at was pissed the wrong people off, which had painted a nice little target on his back. "Empty your bag, or I can do it for you."

muse: leticia villalobos ortiz open to: all genders.  setting: zombie apocalypse – leticia’s been staying in an abandoned condo and maybe its usual tenants have returned to find her making herself a little too comfortable. or maybe they’re new to the area and just looking for somewhere safe to stay the night. up to you! triggers: visuals of guns, blood, knives, apocalyptic themes

leticia was all flight. she had always been a runner. as a teenager, it had been what had made her a name, but it was just another thing abuela had taken credit for. so she fled from her too and moved down the west coast from yakima, wa to norcal with her cousins. it was her mother who’d been the fighter and, since she’d never gotten to know her, she couldn’t put much stock in fighting. when anything got hard, she ran. 

when people started getting back up after they were beyond any possible hope of resuscitation or survival, she didn’t hesitate. leticia ran until her lungs gave out and her legs felt like jelly. and she kept on running–alone and afraid and unsure of what to do. days turned into weeks before she felt like there was time to pause–time to catch a breath. it was time to find somewhere to hunker down and make a plan only … little leti was no survivalist. she was a yoga and pilates instructor who answered phones part time for her cousins’ auto shop. and she was alone. 

two days she spent in the second story bedroom of an upper middle class condo her grandmother would’ve called gauche, but her cousins would’ve thought was pretty fuckin’ fancy. she figured, if nothing else, she could make a temporary home there. until she bounced downstairs one evening–the casual bob of her pony tail was nothing like stride of her sprint. she stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of voices, though not quickly enough to escape notice. there was no running now. “listen, i’m sorry if this is your place, but i can leave. i–i–” swallowing roughly, she tried to keep her voice even. “i didn’t even take anything important, honest, just some clean socks and stuff.” 

[missmvrder]

Having recently gotten information about someone that could possibility be her younger sister, Leti had established some sort of camp in the area, so that she could have a place to come back to and examine maps of the area. She was alone, that was how she liked it ever since the death of her brother. She had a community, sort of, if what they were could even be called that. Bad people, that's what they were, but it didn't matter to Leti. She had been with people like that all her life and the end of the world was no reasons to suddenly frown upon them. But her brother wanted something different and she had tried, for a while, for him. A lot of goof that did them, when the dead came and the place fell apart, taking her brother's life.

But things were different now, Leti was different. She had been scouting the area for supplies when she heard a commotion, one she ignored, or at least pretended to. At first, she had gone to the site of the noise. There were chances, even if slims, that it was her sister. There was disappointed when it turned out to be a stranger and Leti started to turn around before freezing into place, the memory of her brother, so different from her, flooding her mind. "Fuck," she said under her breath. Leti would regret it, she knew that, but against her better judgment, she decided to help the stranger and bring her back to the small cabin she was occupying. For a while there, Leti was certain the woman would never wake up and then, she would have wasted precious supplies on her.

It was late at night, Leti was half looking at a map in front of her, so many areas of it crossed out, a fire warming the place, when she heard a noise from the corner of the room, where the small bed with the stranger was. "About fucking time," she said as she looked up at the stranger.

closed with. @missmvrder, eleanor and character of your choice information. based on this in which the dead have started roaming the universe, eating anyone they can find and creating more of them. eleanor tried to make it on her own for the first time and ended up getting badly hurt. while trying to find help, she ends up on your character's front door.. this post was made using beta editor

leaving the comfort of her village had been a conscious decision that she was proud of, believe it or not. eleanor was confident in her ability to stay alive and to kill in order to protect herself. the villagers had always been close-knit and in an end-of-the-world scenario, they became even more protective of each other. they learned to fight, learned to survive, learned to adapt together.. but eleanor was tired of living within the protection of the walls. she just wanted to know she could survive on her own.

the first few days proved to be easy enough- she found shelter, ate some of the canned goods she packed in her bag and caught up on her reading. there were a lot less zombies in the area than she expected. it gave her a great sense of confidence and accomplishment.. but then the fifth night came. eleanor awoke to the sound of scratching on the shed's door; one of the lessons she had seemingly forgot was to never let herself get trapped.

her heart is pounding so hard that it overtakes the sound of the scratching. she begins packing up her things, careful not to make too much noise. with an axe in hand, eleanor prepares to exit the shed with force. the zombie is knocked back, giving her time to decapitate it. just as she's about to celebrate, twigs start to snap and she quickly realizes that she's about to be surrounded by the undead— how so many had managed to creep up on her would be a question that has to remain unanswered. the femme sprints towards the first opening she sees. unfortunately for her, she failed to see the edge of a cliff through all of the trees and bushes.

the stumble knocks the wind completely out of her. eleanor knows all too well that this can't be her final resting spot; who knows if the zombies would follow her down. she continues onward for as long as she can but the longer she limps, the weaker she gets. eventually eleanor collapses at the end of what seems to be a rocky driveway.

the world blurs. is this it? what if the zombies were right behind her? she has to get up. eleanor's mind races for a few minutes before it quiets as she passes out from the pain and shock..

[missmvrder]

The person Reza was now was far from the one he used to be. Liking this new him or not didn't matter, surviving was the priority and if that meant being an asshole to this woman who looked more terrified than anything else, than so be it. Maybe his step-father would finally be proud of him, at least respect him but none of that mattered to Reza. It didn't matter when living under his roof it surely didn't now. And for all his talks, the old man had been ill-prepared when the end came. A lifetime of prepping for it, of drilling it into everyone's head and he didn't make it long. Or so Reza heard when the news of his mother passing, months after the event, came to him. Information was not as easy to have in this new world. He had mourned his mother the sudden the world fell, knowing he would probably never see her again.

Rez hated this, the rudeness that came with the territory, but that was the thing, this was his place, his sanctuary. And having someone unknown in it could mean the end of it. So when she cried, he pretended he didn't care. Maybe she was hired to do such a thing, to have his lower his defence so that others could attack. The part of him that ached for the woman had to be buried deep down. Still, he couldn't help but snicker at her answer, how simply and still ridiculous it sounded. It was the most obvious things, the socks were on her feet, but the intensity of the situation paired with what seemed to be at stake was disproportionate, to say the least. "You can keep them," he finally said, gun lowering slightly.

Rez raised an eyebrow at her next words. "Socks are the new gold lady. You've survived this long, you should know how what you owe matters. Or did you survived because others did everything for you? Would explain how careless you're being." And that raised another question, how had this woman who seemed so far from violent, who didn't seem to have her own emotions turned off like many of them, had managed to make it this long, if not be the help of more powerful people. "You with anyone?" It was obvious she was alone here and now, but again, the idea that she had been sent was not far from his mind. He wasn't careful as he looked into her bag. Nothing seemed to be amiss, everything normal. "Did you take these from here?" he asked holding up the tampons. "You made yourself at home didn't you. I leave for a few weeks and you're barely moved in." His tone was harsh, irritated, at him mostly, for leaving the place unattended for so long, for allowing someone into his space. "How long were you planning on crashing into someone's else place? Don't you have your own?" It was clear to him that she was of no immediate threats and the gun was lowered entirely, staying at his side in case she tried anything. He should offer her shelter, tell her it was okay, that while the stuff she took was useful, like those tampons who were perfect to soak up any injuries, it was normal that she would do so, that she would look after herself. But that was the man Reza once was, not the one today. And man did he hate this new one.

she had been a lone for so long, surviving by running away and keeping to herself that leti couldn’t help it; she started to cry. it wasn't just the confrontation, though that was a large part of it, but it was everything. she was relieved and frightened; angry and embarrassed. it was so stupid, to cry at the first sign of disagreement, but then minor spats didn't used to end in bloodshed so easily as they did now.

leticia was an ugly crier; mama yolanda always told her so. her chin always wrinkled like a peach pit and her lip quivered. when she cried as a kid, yolanda would scold her and tell her to save it for the cameras (but make it prettier). if she cried at night, she'd tell her to be quiet or the cucuys would get her. it didn’t matter. none of it mattered to little leti who was always one bad day away from grieving the mother she never new. maybe tougher kids would’ve held it in—performed like abuelita wanted. or never gave the old woman the satisfaction of their tears at all. little leti often wondered if that would’ve garnered more affection, if she could have been strong or more dignified, but she didn’t have it in her. even as a grown woman, she was a crier. even after surviving all this time.

but she wasn’t going to fall apart. no, she did her best to keep her chin soft (like she’d learned for dateline) and have the tears fall silently like all those years ago when bedtime came. too many tears might trigger this guy to waste her before she could even try to show him her socks. she sniffled a little, biting her lip to hold it in--frustrated that it did no good--and gestured to her feet. “th-they’re on my feet.” she’d used some towels and odds and ends of things but it was mostly women’s stuff anyway. what did he care? the longer the gun was on her the more angry she realized she was. tears remained on her cheeks, but she cleared her throat and found her voice again.

"i've survived this long and you're really going to shoot me over some kirkland no-shows?" she tossed her bag on the ground and let the contents spill out. sure, it was dramatic, but she was still indignant about the gun. she had some clothes, a few canned items, hygiene stuff. she could've been packed for a weekend at coachella or an overnight camping trip at the beach nearly as easily as this. "feel free to go through the toothpaste and tampons." she said, whiping the tears of her cheeks now that she had a little more fortitude again. she could be so petty. (continued from here) / @missmvrder