tomcat-writing

[tomcat-writing]

Page of a Journal

You know. I never expected the apocalypse to be this nice.

Okay that sounds bad.

Really bad.

I swear I'm not an asshole I just. Don't like socializing. Zombies are pretty much the best thing to happen right now. Y'know. Besides the death. And the stink. The horror. Blood.

Okay it's not that great. But I like living in all these strongholds. There were a few, but this one here is probably the best. There's so many people there, no one expects me to know their name. There's a steady supply of food, so I don't need to worry about running into my old classmates at the supermarket! I did kinda kill Christie I think last week. She was kinda a bitch tho.

It's so much quieter out, too! I can't remember the last time I heard this much birdsong. The air is clearer, except for the ash. You know. "Burn your dead" and such. I don't really care much for that. Just rip their heads off and stuff them in jars. I saw our scientist with a zombie jaw in resin once. Very #aesthetic.

Yes I did write that in pink glitter pen. It's what Dr. What'sHisName deserves.

Really though. I can't believe I got this opportunity. A fresh start, to remake myself. And you know. Drink the disgusting water. Eat random berries. Survive a mass death event. I can finally say I'm better than the dinos. No meteor gonna kick my ass today.

But. If you're reading this. Welcome to the End of the World. Good luck. Don't lose your toes.

[tomcat-writing]

Well. Uh.

11 followers isn't bad?

[tomcat-writing]

No

Write.

[tomcat-writing]

I don't like where I grew up. France. Everyone loves it there. So full of love and romance and flowers and couples and diamond rings. The France I grew up in was a very different France. It was a long time ago. Some of you must have read it in your history books.

There was a hunger. Me. My family. Everyone on our little street in our little town was hungry. I didn't blame them. There wasn't any food. Not for us, at least. They hoarded the stuff almost as much as they hoarded their money. They stayed in their large estates and let us rot in our tiny houses. That didn't stay, though. It was fixed, extremely bloodily. It caused several heads to roll. Pun intended. We had food. We could eat and still have food to save for later. It felt amazing.

Then came the wars. Food was taken for soldiers. Flowerbeds turned to gardens by people frantically stockpiling what little they had. Hard times turned people's masks inside out. My mask wasn't too bad. I went from a sly woman to a trickster. My kindness disappeared, and was changed to cunning. I made a good nurse, and an even better field medic. The frantic screams and the marching footsteps felt very similar to home, so I fell in rank.

No one notices that you're not a man if you cut your hair and deepen your voice. The bombs sounded like the cannons I was used to, and it was rare for a new recruit like myself to not jump. Luckily, I was a good actress. I was found out, eventually, and sent back to the medic tents far behind lines. I stayed there, rather unhappily. Wars passed, and I repeated my pattern. Pose as a male with different names, get found, and return to be a nurse. It got extremely boring.

Of course, as soon I went to America, the best place for a woman to be, I was able to be myself. I took the name Marie Halleny. A good alias. At least I could keep my first name. No questions were raised on the ship. None were raised when I died, I've lost count of how many times it happened. No eyebrows were raised when I introduced myself as her niece. I passed like that for a while.

The West was the place to be. Banks, stores, hotels, and houses were springing up all over. I decided to hop on a train and find my way there. It stopped for a night. The grass rustled all around the car. I couldn't sleep that night. Voices were raised, I can't remember what for. I ignored it, for the most part. I ended up working at a bank. It had the most beautiful blue flowers I'd ever seen. They make Paris roses pale in comparison. The Banker never told me what kind they were. I love them anyway. No one seemed to notice that neither of us aged. We definitely seemed to notice. Timeless. We exchanged stories, our little secrets. We've stayed in our bank. The Banker and his 'Wife'. We never spilled. He manages the money. I manage the buildings. It works. It's stable. No one suspects a thing.

[tomcat-writing]

Send me a 🖊️ if you want a fun fact about an OC.

Could be a specific OC and/or specific AU. 

(please just send one to the person you’re going to reblog this from if you do reblog this)

[tomcat-writing]

I've always liked forests. It might be because I grew up in them. I've never felt watched or stalked when I was in one. I never felt anything, really. But plains. Flat open places with nothing around for miles. Those unnerve me. Where is everything? Did all the trees just decide to leave? They look like they can go on forever. You could get lost in there, with no landmarks to travel by. It's an endless sea of browns and tans and greens. That makes travel weird. Whenever trains go through the Midwest, I get a bad feeling. The watching feeling everyone has when they go into forests? I got that. It makes me vulnerable. I don't know what it is. I just hate being here.

When the train had to stop and refuel, I was the first one off and into a building. When we learned we had to stop for the night, I was the first one to try and get a hotel. Except, where we stopped didn't have hotels. Everyone stayed on the train.

I can't forget what happened that night. It was dark and cloudy, so I couldn't see very well. But there was definitely something in the grass. It was on the left. No the right. It was definitely on the- it's on the left? I ran from window to window trying to see what was there when I got tapped on my shoulder. In the middle of the car stood a short figure, made of some tan material. He smiled at me and spoke.

"First train, huh. Don't worry about the snakes. They check under the cars for mice and shrews."

"Wha- what are you?"

"I am not important. You are. You're traveling for business, correct?"

"Yes. There's banks opening up in the west. I'm going to start one."

"Best of luck to you, my friend. The West is a dangerous place if you're not careful. Dangerous people. Dangerous places."

"I'll try sir. What exactly are you doing on this train?"

"Oh I'm passing through. I try to visit the people before going home. It makes for good stories. They live hearing about what you do."

"People?" I heard rustling in the grass, closer to the door and I turned. When I looked back the figure was gone, save for a small blue flower sitting on the floor. I picked it up, and all the fear that was sitting inside me vanished. The next morning, I tucked it into a book I was carrying, and finished the trip. I wasn't worried about any open space, or field, or valley. I don't know who he was, but I know that my bank has done nothing but prosper since I set it up. Blue flowers adorn every window, and spread through the lot next to it. I haven't seen that man since, but I see his eyes in the wildlife, and hear his words in the rustling grass. I don't think he's ever left my side. It's refreshing. I hope that his luck never leaves.

[tomcat-writing]

I hunt ghosts for a living. Well, maybe not a living, but it makes up most of my income. I go explore 'haunted' houses, and sometimes fake ghost sightings. Then whatever ghost show is interested buys the footage. It's a scam that I love to commit. However, this time nothing was faked.

A few months ago I caught wind of a 'haunted' house a few hours from my house. The commute was great, so I grabbed my camera and started driving. The roads there were winding like snakes, but I never lost my way, despite never being in this area before. The house on the outside looked like any normal old house in Kansas. Dirty and broken down. On first sight, it looked like nothing special. I had thought that I would have to take footage. Then it hit me. My vision cut out, and I saw the same house, this time in vibrant blues and whites. The door was shut, but I heard laughter and the clucking of a chicken from inside it. It faded out into what I normally saw after a few seconds. This was troubling. Hallucinations aren't normally part of the gig. But if I hallucinated, then whoever fact checked me would too. I grabbed one of the cameras from my car and opened the door.

Everything was covered in dirt. I didn't know what I expected. It was an old house in the middle of nowhere. It's probably empty already. I reached down to swipe some dirt off of a counter when it happened again. I heard the latter of feet and smelled apple pie. Reflexively, I pulled my hand back and it stopped. After looking around the kitchen and touching random objects to see if it happened again, I moved onto what I could assume was the living room.

This room was just as dusty as the rest. I tried to orient myself in the middle to get some good angles, when I heard tiny footsteps, like some kids running around, and was nudged out of the way. This was getting a little freaky, even for me, so I decided to call one of my friends to calm me down.

"Hey Mattie."

"Sarah. Hey. Are you busy?"

"Incredibly. I've got a mushroom kingdom to save, and in an hour a princess to rescue. What's up?"

"Something funky's happening at this house."

"You want me to stay on call?"

"Yes."

"Anything for my darling baby sibling."

I rolled my eyes before checking two empty rooms. Bedrooms, from the size of them. Completely empty, save for the usual dust and cobwebs. Nothing special to report in there. I nudged open the final door. Everything was clean. There was shiny green paint on the walls, and no dust or cobwebs anywhere. A kid, maybe 14 or 15 was laying on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room. He lept up with a start, and stared at me dumbfounded. He looked familiar, as if I'd met him hundreds of times and never asked his name.

"Toby! You're home!" He exclaimed and ran to hug me. I didn't know what to do, so I let him. After a while he released me. "Toby! It's been forever. Ma an' Pa will be so happy to see you. I bet they missed you more than I do. Ellie would jumpin' up an' down with 'citement. Have you seen them yet?" I backed away slightly, confused. "Toby? Do you not recognize your own brother? Dang, California did somethin' to ya huh?" I took another step back.

"I'm not Toby."

"Oh. Ya aren't? You look just like 'im. I 'pologize. I just haven't seen 'im since he left. The dust really got us down."

"Dust? Wait. What year is it?"

" 's 1934. Well, it's somewhere around there. Why ya ask?"

I paled. 1934. This kid had no clue how long he's been in here.

"Pardon me sir, but what's your name? It's be rude to call you Not Toby. 'nd I don't mean no disrespect."

"Uh. It's uh. Mattie. Mattie Harrison."

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you Mattie." He never seemed to look at my clothes or my camera, he just looked at my face. He was clearly excited to see me.

"Hey uhh kid. When-"

"Jacob. That's m' name."

"Jacob. When's the last time you left this house?"

"Oh it's been a while. With the dust storms and all it's hard to keep track of time. I figured a few days or so. Hasn't been long. Why you lookin at me like that?"

"Jacob. It's not 1934. It's 2017. You've been in here for a long time." As I said this his cheery demeanor dropped from his face. He shrunk into himself and stopped moving for a while. He even stopped breathing.

"Ma and Pa? What happened to them? Ellie. Oh no Ellie. I've gotta find them."

"Jacob, they're probably dead."

"I. I got nowhere to go. No one to look after me. No one to feed me. I got-"

"Calm down. It's okay. I've got a friend who's generally nice to kids. I think you can stay there." He walked past me out into the hallway, gazing at the open doors and dust covered house. "This has got to be hard for you. I'm gonna make sure you're safe."

He smiled weakly, and walked into the kitchen. "I can almost smell the pie Ma made before Toby left. She put it right there. Put pecans in it. Best pie I've ever had." I turned to leave, and he followed me. I helped him into the car, and we drove home in silence.

I can't explain how I knew his favorite food, or that he loved driving in the mud. Or that he could catch birds out of the air. I don't know quite what's going on still. But I think I'll be a good stand in sibling.