quincyxdubois
Quincy had hardly noticed this day stood apart from any other, barring rain or snow he wasnât as observant as some of the others. So, when it was brought to his attention, the best he could manage was a nod of hesitant agreement, gaze sweeping up to the skies to belatedly confirm. That had been the most interaction he had since heâd woken up that morning.
The man hadnât given up yet on making amends with Rooney, and that meant leaving her to sleep in rather than go to where she was staying and see if she wanted him to make something for her. Now it was well past noon and the older woman talking to him dismissed him with an unaccustomed gentleness. He noticed the shirt first. It stood out against the burnt remains of the house. Then Quincy recognized Faust, someone that had seemingly gotten along well with his sister. He closed the distance, coming to stand a little over a foot away.
âYâeat yet?â
The moment Faust realized it was Quincy standing over him, it was like a switch flipped and a different person took over his body. His slouched posture corrected itself; he sat at attention, snuffed out his cigarette, and gave the man a respectful nod.Â
âUh, hey, Quincy,â he did his best to suppress a cough bubbling up in his chest. He realized Quincy was waiting for an answer to something; it took Faust a moment to remember what the initial question was.Â
âEaten? Oh, no. Not yet. Why?â it might have been a dumb question, but Faust was famous for those.
Also, he didnât really know how to act around Quincy. How do you act around the man that used to date your sister in high school? He never expected to meet Quincy again under apocalyptic circumstances, and have to explain to the man that Lena was dead.Â
Yeah, that. That had been supremely hard to do.
Starter: open
Location: a grassy patch near the burned down house of 103
Summer. The perfect time for...well, not much, really- in Faustâs opinion. The only thing Summer was good for was wearing ugly button-up shirts. Unfortunately he only had one of those left; he suspected that every bisexual, enby, and middle-aged father had snatched up all the available Hawaiian shirts the minute the apocalypse hit.Â
Well, heâd wear the hell out of his shirt anyway. It already had a few holes in it, but it was nothing Bobbi wouldnât be able to patch up. Probably.
Speaking of, Bobbi was the only reason he was currently sitting outside âsoaking up the sunâ. Sheâd told him he was looking a little too pale. Heâd made some snarky comment in response that had earned him a thwap to the side of the head- he couldnât quite remember what heâd said. But itâd been enough to get him off his ass and get him outdoors.Â
He was sitting on a patch of green grass that had sprung up from the ashes (literally), just next to 103. The grass was a bright patch of green amidst the ashy, grey, desolate reminder of what had happened several months prior.Â
Hey, where else were you gonna kick back and relax?Â
Faust cracked an eye open when a shadow fell over him, squinting up to try and see who was blocking his sun. He took the cigarette out of his mouth (one of the last he had stashed) and said on an exhale of smoke and a forced smile:Â
âHey.âÂ
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xrooneyx
Rooney put her hands behind her, legs stretched out in front of her. She let her head fall back, smiling as she soaked up the sun. Her eyes closed as Faust spoke, but she was still very much listening. âThinking? Thatâs pretty dangerous.â Eyes still closed, she smiled. âWhat kind of thoughts are you thinking?â
Ever since the horde, things had been pretty busy at the Sanctuary. Rebuilding physical places were one thing, but it was mental adjustment that really had done a number on some people. Rooney still struggled with what happened that day, but mostly sheâd managed to put it to the back of her mind. A great talent of hers. Not the most healthy, but one sheâd definitely worked on throughout the years. Â
âDangerous indeed,â Faust watched as she sat down, looking like a literal child of the sun the way she relaxed in the warmth of its rays.
Love comforeth like sunshine after rain,
But Lust's effect is tempest after sun.
Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain--
He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Now was really not the time to be reciting The Dramatic Works of Shakespeare in his head.
âUh, you know. How much things have changed. How that day could have gone differently...â he shrugged, âJust the usual.â
Starter: open
Location: a grassy patch near the burned down house of 103
Summer. The perfect time for...well, not much, really- in Faustâs opinion. The only thing Summer was good for was wearing ugly button-up shirts. Unfortunately he only had one of those left; he suspected that every bisexual, enby, and middle-aged father had snatched up all the available Hawaiian shirts the minute the apocalypse hit.Â
Well, heâd wear the hell out of his shirt anyway. It already had a few holes in it, but it was nothing Bobbi wouldnât be able to patch up. Probably.
Speaking of, Bobbi was the only reason he was currently sitting outside âsoaking up the sunâ. Sheâd told him he was looking a little too pale. Heâd made some snarky comment in response that had earned him a thwap to the side of the head- he couldnât quite remember what heâd said. But itâd been enough to get him off his ass and get him outdoors.Â
He was sitting on a patch of green grass that had sprung up from the ashes (literally), just next to 103. The grass was a bright patch of green amidst the ashy, grey, desolate reminder of what had happened several months prior.Â
Hey, where else were you gonna kick back and relax?Â
Faust cracked an eye open when a shadow fell over him, squinting up to try and see who was blocking his sun. He took the cigarette out of his mouth (one of the last he had stashed) and said on an exhale of smoke and a forced smile:Â
âHey.âÂ
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samuel-creed  Â
Taking the cigarette from Faust, Sam was silent for a moment before he finally let our a small laugh⌠something he hadnât done in a long time. There was something about Faustâs feisty defense over a colorful shirt that, for a moment, made Sam almost forget about the world and itâs problems around him. If it hadnât of been for the burnt out skeleton of house 103, then who knows how long he could of tricked himself into believing that the world was fine and that it was just banter between friends on a normal summer day.
âYouâre right⌠I might look boring and monochromeâ Sam took a drag of the cigarette, coughing a little as he did. It had been a long time since he had smoked and even then it was only a couple times. âBut at least I donât look like a tropical punch Caprie sunâ he laughed, taking one last drag and handing the cigarette back to Faust.
Faust quirked an eyebrow when Sam bummed off his cigarette, and let out a little laugh when the man coughed, âYou getting old?â
âIâll take that little Capri Sun jab as a compliment, thank you very much,â he was surprised when Sam gave him his cigarette back, but he wasnât about to complain. He pursed his lips around it and took another drag.
âSo, did you come out here to lecture me about something? Or was it my glittering company that drew you here?â
Starter: open
Location: a grassy patch near the burned down house of 103
Summer. The perfect time for...well, not much, really- in Faustâs opinion. The only thing Summer was good for was wearing ugly button-up shirts. Unfortunately he only had one of those left; he suspected that every bisexual, enby, and middle-aged father had snatched up all the available Hawaiian shirts the minute the apocalypse hit.Â
Well, heâd wear the hell out of his shirt anyway. It already had a few holes in it, but it was nothing Bobbi wouldnât be able to patch up. Probably.
Speaking of, Bobbi was the only reason he was currently sitting outside âsoaking up the sunâ. Sheâd told him he was looking a little too pale. Heâd made some snarky comment in response that had earned him a thwap to the side of the head- he couldnât quite remember what heâd said. But itâd been enough to get him off his ass and get him outdoors.Â
He was sitting on a patch of green grass that had sprung up from the ashes (literally), just next to 103. The grass was a bright patch of green amidst the ashy, grey, desolate reminder of what had happened several months prior.Â
Hey, where else were you gonna kick back and relax?Â
Faust cracked an eye open when a shadow fell over him, squinting up to try and see who was blocking his sun. He took the cigarette out of his mouth (one of the last he had stashed) and said on an exhale of smoke and a forced smile:Â
âHey.âÂ
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phaekings
Phaedra hated this world and she didnât care how strong of a word it was, she truly despised everything it had to offer her. Well, she couldnât be completely selfish. She wasnât  the only one it hated, this entire compound seemed to have pissed someone off. What with the invasion and the burning down of an entire house â her house. Itâs why she was there, staring at the remnants of âhomeâ.
Stupid house. She kicked at the dust before taking a deep breath and turning her back to it. Sheâd have to go save Lyndsey from babysitting duty soon â and then head over to the shop with Syd. She didnât have the time to just glare at the house.
âOhââ She hadnât even realized Faust was there, so lost in her own thought she almost tripped right over him. ââ Hey Faust.â
âHeeeey, if it isnât my partner in crime,â Faust smiled up at her. âWhat brings you h...â
He trailed off when he realized, and his gaze flicked almost guiltily towards the house. Sheâd lived there, hadnât she? He probably looked like an insensitive idiot, sunbathing next to the remnants of her old home.Â
âOh,â he cleared his throat, letting out a little uncomfortable cough, âThat. Sorry, I... the sun was just hitting right here, and the grass looked nice. I can move, if you want?â He was, in fact, already getting to his feet to leave.Â
Starter: open
Location: a grassy patch near the burned down house of 103
Summer. The perfect time for...well, not much, really- in Faustâs opinion. The only thing Summer was good for was wearing ugly button-up shirts. Unfortunately he only had one of those left; he suspected that every bisexual, enby, and middle-aged father had snatched up all the available Hawaiian shirts the minute the apocalypse hit.Â
Well, heâd wear the hell out of his shirt anyway. It already had a few holes in it, but it was nothing Bobbi wouldnât be able to patch up. Probably.
Speaking of, Bobbi was the only reason he was currently sitting outside âsoaking up the sunâ. Sheâd told him he was looking a little too pale. Heâd made some snarky comment in response that had earned him a thwap to the side of the head- he couldnât quite remember what heâd said. But itâd been enough to get him off his ass and get him outdoors.Â
He was sitting on a patch of green grass that had sprung up from the ashes (literally), just next to 103. The grass was a bright patch of green amidst the ashy, grey, desolate reminder of what had happened several months prior.Â
Hey, where else were you gonna kick back and relax?Â
Faust cracked an eye open when a shadow fell over him, squinting up to try and see who was blocking his sun. He took the cigarette out of his mouth (one of the last he had stashed) and said on an exhale of smoke and a forced smile:Â
âHey.âÂ
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Heâd barely made it through the threshold when she called out to him, and his shoulders instinctively tensed up. Faust had spent the evening out smoking again and avoiding coming into the house- waiting for the familiar cold that now only came at night to bite into his skin, redden his cheeks. It was a bad habit heâd picked up recently. He had hoped Bobbi and Puck would be asleep already. They usually were by time he got back.
âHey...whatâs up?â he kept his hands, which were instinctively clenching with nerves, buried in the pockets of his hoodie. Faust made his way over to sit next to Bobbi, taking care not to knock over any of the candles.
âYou look like youâve got something on your mind,â he spoke softly, his gaze falling to his nephew in Bobbiâs lap. He didnât want to wake the toddler up.Â
with: @faust-fenterâ
location: upstairs bedroom
It was nice, to spend a quiet evening with Puck on her lap, reading by candle light as Puck slowly drifted off to sleep. In the cozy atmosphere, among the smell of candle smoke and books, Bobbi could feel her shoulders relaxing more than they had all day. Or they would be, if she hadnât needed to talk to Faust.
âHey kid, wanna come sit over here for a minute?â
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Summer. More specifically, an American summer. After returning home from war it was the small things like specific seasons that one begins to appreciate. Summer in Afghanistan was two things, hot and dry; for four months out of the year, even the nights are warm, so not even dusk can soothe the sweltering heat of the desert. Â
  Dorian had always enjoyed being outside no matter the weather, he liked listening to the sounds of nature and feeling the breeze caressing his skin. Today was no different as he wandered though Sanctuary sporting his usual combat boots, cargo shorts and a slouchy black muscle shirt with dropped arm holes that showed off his relatively toned figure quite nicely. He was also wearing a pair of ray-ban style sun glasses that he had managed to keep safe since before everything went to shit.
  Seeing Faust outside enjoying the sun, he figured he ought to say something, considering that the two had barely ever interacted before. He walked over to the other, his large figure completely overshadowing that of Faust. The smell of the burning tobacco made his mouth water, he swallowed hard before speaking, âEnjoying the sun I see? You definitely look a bit too chipper to be sitting next to the torched corpse of a house, a beach might be better suited to your aesthetic.â He chuckled, a soft grin lighting up his face momentarily as he attempted to break the ice.
Faust squinted up at the man, not letting his expression betray anything just yet. He and Dorian didnât know each other all that well- had barely interacted at all really. Not that anyone was to blame for that. He supposed Dorian could be another of Bobbi or Samâs friends- one they sent to try and cheer him up or boost his morale. Or maybe he was just a guy who genuinely wanted to chat. Who could say?
He let his gaze trail up Dorianâs body, then slowly back down. He exhaled a slow puff of smoke.
âJesus, what Uncle Sam poster did you spawn from?â he nodded to the spot on the grass next to him, indicating for the other man to sit, âAt ease, soldier.â
Starter: open
Location: a grassy patch near the burned down house of 103
Summer. The perfect time for...well, not much, really- in Faustâs opinion. The only thing Summer was good for was wearing ugly button-up shirts. Unfortunately he only had one of those left; he suspected that every bisexual, enby, and middle-aged father had snatched up all the available Hawaiian shirts the minute the apocalypse hit.Â
Well, heâd wear the hell out of his shirt anyway. It already had a few holes in it, but it was nothing Bobbi wouldnât be able to patch up. Probably.
Speaking of, Bobbi was the only reason he was currently sitting outside âsoaking up the sunâ. Sheâd told him he was looking a little too pale. Heâd made some snarky comment in response that had earned him a thwap to the side of the head- he couldnât quite remember what heâd said. But itâd been enough to get him off his ass and get him outdoors.Â
He was sitting on a patch of green grass that had sprung up from the ashes (literally), just next to 103. The grass was a bright patch of green amidst the ashy, grey, desolate reminder of what had happened several months prior.Â
Hey, where else were you gonna kick back and relax?Â
Faust cracked an eye open when a shadow fell over him, squinting up to try and see who was blocking his sun. He took the cigarette out of his mouth (one of the last he had stashed) and said on an exhale of smoke and a forced smile:Â
âHey.âÂ
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Faust heaved a heavy sigh as he handed the cigarette over. Of course, Sam had caught him- he had such rotten luck.Â
âExcuse you, my shirt is what one would call fashion,â his gaze travelled down Samuelâs monochrome outfit, âWhich you wouldnât know anything about.âÂ
Was he being a little shit? Maybe. Did Samuel expect this of him by now? Of course.Â
an imperfect actor
Starter: open
Location: a grassy patch near the burned down house of 103
Summer. The perfect time forâŚwell, not much, really- in Faustâs opinion. The only thing Summer was good for was wearing ugly button-up shirts. Unfortunately he only had one of those left; he suspected that every bisexual, enby, and middle-aged father had snatched up all the available Hawaiian shirts the minute the apocalypse hit.Â
Well, heâd wear the hell out of his shirt anyway. It already had a few holes in it, but it was nothing Bobbi wouldnât be able to patch up. Probably.
Speaking of, Bobbi was the only reason he was currently sitting outside âsoaking up the sunâ. Sheâd told him he was looking a little too pale. Heâd made some snarky comment in response that had earned him a thwap to the side of the head- he couldnât quite remember what heâd said. But itâd been enough to get him off his ass and get him outdoors.Â
He was sitting on a patch of green grass that had sprung up from the ashes (literally), just next to 103. The grass was a bright patch of green amidst the ashy, grey, desolate reminder of what had happened several months prior.Â
Hey, where else were you gonna kick back and relax?Â
Faust cracked an eye open when a shadow fell over him, squinting up to try and see who was blocking his sun. He took the cigarette out of his mouth (one of the last he had stashed) and said on an exhale of smoke and a forced smile:Â
âHey.âÂ
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â If you want to head a scouting run, see what we can find and send other runners out to get, I would⌠I would really appreciate it. â Words could not express just how proud Bobbi was of Faust. Heâd proven himself time and time again, that she could trust him to do what was rightand what was necessary. â See if Charlie will go with you. Weâve been talking about find a Loweâs or Home Depot. â
Faust winced at the idea, but nodded in agreement nonetheless. Anything for Bobbi, for his family.Â
ââCourse, yeah. Iâll go as soon as I can- tomorrow morning, maybe,â he got to his feet with a grunt, the movement far more slow and effortful than it had any right to be. He tried to cover it up with a cough and adjusted his shirt.Â
âRight, well. Good night, then.â
starter - open
location - town hall
â Okay, so- weâve got the harvest in, so weâre good on food. â Bobbi marked off a box next to âfoodâ. â And the well seems to be full after all the snow melted. So we donât need to worry about water, any time soon. â A weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders as she ticked off another box. â We just need to get the walls reinforced, fix the electricity in the infirmary and... â She glanced around, looking at the dim lighting inside the Town Hall. â here, and... build a whole new house. Honestly, weâre not in as bad a shape as I originally though we were. â
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âYou know cigarettes will kill you.â She joked, staring down at him. It was warm outside, and as Rooney stood over Faust she could feel the hot sun beating down on her back. âDoes it look like my hair is on fire from the angle youâre at?â Rooney lingered a few seconds to make sure Faust had adequate time to answer her question, and then she plopped down on the open patch of grass next to him.
She knew that things hadnât been so bright for Faust the past few months. Rooney understood and wouldnât push him on it. Time had passed since the horde had passed through and Rooney still felt like she should have done more for the people in her group. âWhatâcha up to?â
âNot if the zombies kill me first,â he informed Rooney, his smile brightening just a fraction. There was never a moment where he wasnât genuinely happy to see her. In other words, he liked having her around.Â
âYour hair... yeah.â Words couldnât quite describe. The way the sunâs rays hit her, the way the beams filtered through her hair with an orange glow- she looked angelic. But Faust just cleared his throat awkwardly and gestured for her to sit down next to him.Â
He huffed out a short laugh at her question, âUp to no good, apparently.âÂ
As he spoke, he ground the cigarette into the dirt and snuffed it out. He didnât want to keep smoking around her if she didnât like it.Â
âIâm just... I donât know. Thinking, I guess.â
Starter: open
Location: a grassy patch near the burned down house of 103
Summer. The perfect time for...well, not much, really- in Faustâs opinion. The only thing Summer was good for was wearing ugly button-up shirts. Unfortunately he only had one of those left; he suspected that every bisexual, enby, and middle-aged father had snatched up all the available Hawaiian shirts the minute the apocalypse hit.Â
Well, heâd wear the hell out of his shirt anyway. It already had a few holes in it, but it was nothing Bobbi wouldnât be able to patch up. Probably.
Speaking of, Bobbi was the only reason he was currently sitting outside âsoaking up the sunâ. Sheâd told him he was looking a little too pale. Heâd made some snarky comment in response that had earned him a thwap to the side of the head- he couldnât quite remember what heâd said. But itâd been enough to get him off his ass and get him outdoors.Â
He was sitting on a patch of green grass that had sprung up from the ashes (literally), just next to 103. The grass was a bright patch of green amidst the ashy, grey, desolate reminder of what had happened several months prior.Â
Hey, where else were you gonna kick back and relax?Â
Faust cracked an eye open when a shadow fell over him, squinting up to try and see who was blocking his sun. He took the cigarette out of his mouth (one of the last he had stashed) and said on an exhale of smoke and a forced smile:Â
âHey.âÂ
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Faust didnât check in on Rooney all too often nowadays. She had a lot going on right now- just like everyone else. And the tentative first steps into a new friendship are always...challenging, for Faust to navigate. And thatâs under normal circumstances. They were friends, yes- but in Faustâs mind, it was all still new.Â
And with her brother around, now, Faust really really didnât want to fuck anything up. He was more careful around Rooney than ever.Â
But today, he needed company. If he spent another millisecond wallowing in self-pity, he was going to throw himself out to the wolves. Or, well, the zombies.
âWhat ya reading?â he took a seat next to her on the bench, leaning in to take a peek at the page she was on. A quick glance over the text told him it wasnât any literature that he recognized. âIs it juicy?â
[ status: open ]
[ location: bench somewhere near town hall ]
Rooneyâs last run had been, for the most part, absolutely useless. Sheâd stumbled upon the ruins of an old house. one that had most certainly started itâs journey towards desecration. Rooney could tell that kids had probably used it as some sort of hangout before the world went to shit. Inside she found three books and a wallet made out of electrical tape. Whoever had made it had put googly eyes on the front and a dick sticker on the back. There was no real need for it, but Rooney took it anyhow. You never knew when a googly-eyed electrical tape wallet with a dick sticker would come in handy.
She hadnât even really paused to get a look at which books she picked up. Instead she shoved them all into her bag and kept on moving. The only real substantial find of the day was a solar charger. Coming by new books was pretty easy at the start of things, but as time passed it just got harder and harder. Until finding a good one was almost like finding a unicorn. Which was why Rooney felt like sheâd hit the jackpot when she realized how great of a find sheâd actually managed to get her hands on. âGone Girlâ by Gillian Flynn had been one of her most favorite books and definitely was at the top of her list of books she wanted to find.Â
In the chaos of rebuilding the Sanctuary and taking care of a new baby, the book had remained on her bedside table for a bit. Today, however, just so happened to be the perfect day for her to crack it back open and rediscover the story of Amy Dunne. When she saw the shadow of a person approach her, she pulled the book down from her face and looked upwards. âWhat ya need?â
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It was good to see some of the tension leave Bobbiâs shoulders, for once. Faust allowed himself to relax minutely, slumping in his chair and tilting his head back to stare at the cracks in the ceiling. They probably had to do something about those, too (he spotted one or two leaks- not good), but he could bring that up later.
âIf only we had extra bricks lying around,â he said, âI can go out on a run and see what there is to find, but...â He resisted the urge to rub at his chest scar, which seemed to throb every time he thought of it. It was becoming more than a little irritating.Â
starter - open
location - town hall
â Okay, so- weâve got the harvest in, so weâre good on food. â Bobbi marked off a box next to âfoodâ. â And the well seems to be full after all the snow melted. So we donât need to worry about water, any time soon. â A weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders as she ticked off another box. â We just need to get the walls reinforced, fix the electricity in the infirmary and⌠â She glanced around, looking at the dim lighting inside the Town Hall. â here, and⌠build a whole new house. Honestly, weâre not in as bad a shape as I originally though we were. â
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an imperfect actor
Starter: open
Location: a grassy patch near the burned down house of 103
Summer. The perfect time for...well, not much, really- in Faustâs opinion. The only thing Summer was good for was wearing ugly button-up shirts. Unfortunately he only had one of those left; he suspected that every bisexual, enby, and middle-aged father had snatched up all the available Hawaiian shirts the minute the apocalypse hit.Â
Well, heâd wear the hell out of his shirt anyway. It already had a few holes in it, but it was nothing Bobbi wouldnât be able to patch up. Probably.
Speaking of, Bobbi was the only reason he was currently sitting outside âsoaking up the sunâ. Sheâd told him he was looking a little too pale. Heâd made some snarky comment in response that had earned him a thwap to the side of the head- he couldnât quite remember what heâd said. But itâd been enough to get him off his ass and get him outdoors.Â
He was sitting on a patch of green grass that had sprung up from the ashes (literally), just next to 103. The grass was a bright patch of green amidst the ashy, grey, desolate reminder of what had happened several months prior.Â
Hey, where else were you gonna kick back and relax?Â
Faust cracked an eye open when a shadow fell over him, squinting up to try and see who was blocking his sun. He took the cigarette out of his mouth (one of the last he had stashed) and said on an exhale of smoke and a forced smile:Â
âHey.âÂ
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the present
âA mask tells us more than a faceâ - Oscar WildeÂ
After everything that happened, Faust felt like a shell of a human being. He blamed himself; he was wracked with grief over Perry, over the fact that heâd practically lead a horde of the undead right to their doorstep. Nobody told him that they held him responsible for what happened, but they didnât need to. The knowledge of it all was a persistent ache in his hollow chest.
But there were still those who needed him. Bobbi, Puck, friends like Rooney...
Except, Bobbi was strong- so strong, so resilient. There were moments Faust wondered if Bobbi had ever needed him in the first place. And Puck... well, Puck was growing at a rapid pace. Over the Spring, Puck had started talking more, walking without support, becoming a friendlier and happier and more playful toddler. That in itself gave Faust some hope; his nephew was growing into a ball of sunshine of a little man despite it all. On the other hand, the day where Puck probably wouldnât need him anymore seemed to be inching closer.Â
Faust did his best to stay himself. It was easy to put on a face and act like everything was fine for the benefit of those around you. By the time Summer rolled around, he fell back into a steady rhythm. He was the drama teacher for the Sanctuaryâs kids, and that was fun. He kept his job as a runner, but his runs were becoming shorter; his body wasnât in peak condition anymore, and he had to admit that what was beyond the sanctuary walls scared him more than ever.
It was only late at night, when he was all alone with the cold empty ache in his chest that was right underneath his viscerally ugly scar-- only then did he let himself wallow.
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xrooneyx
Rooney looked up at him, tears spilling over, and nodded with a smile. âYeah, it was about time.â She leaned in and hugged him, still holding onto the photo. Such a show of affection was rare for her, but she felt it was needed. When she pulled back she wiped the tears from her face and looked back at the photo. What were the odds of this happening? They had to be slim- beyond slim. Though the odds of the apocalypse happening had to be slim as well. She hadnât been given the opportunity to really talk about her family in years. Not on her terms, at least. There were times when she had to go to court here and there, but no one had ever actually cared to ask her about them. It was always just her and Beanie. Beanie asking and Rooney telling.
âThatâs uh,â She sniffled and wiped her face again before pointing at Riley. â- thatâs Riley.â Her finger drifted towards Wes. âAnd thatâs Wesley. I called him Wes though. Or Wessy- which was stupid, I know.â Then she looked at herself, and at Quincy. All of them frozen in a happy embrace that wouldnât last all that long beyond that picture. Finally she pointed Quincy, and herself who was balancing on his shoulders. âAnd thatâs me and Quincy.â It was almost as though sheâd momentarily disappeared into the picture, reveling in the image of her siblings. âIâd forgotten what they looked like,â She looked up at him. âThatâs fucked up isnât it? Iâd forgotten what Riley and Wes looked like. Theyâre all probably dead by now.â
âThis was taken before Beanie came along.â Beanie marked the fifth of their group. Of their siblings, Rooney had been the only one whoâd spent her years growing up with Beanie. It dawned on her that heâd have no clue as to who Beanie was she clarified. âBeanie was our youngest sibling. She had this mop of red hair and freckles.â Rooney, realizing that sheâd been rambling about her siblings, stopped. âYou probably donât care, sorry. Itâs just- wow. I wasnât expecting this.â
By far the most surprising moment was the hug. He almost didnât know what to do with himself; he hadnât thought Rooney the type to show any affection. It took him a moment to return the gesture, arms raising almost awkwardly before wrapping around her small form.
He felt like they were having a moment- he didnât know how to describe it beyond that. Theyâd barely known each other before, yet theyâd been inexplicably linked. And now they knew, and it changed things.
Faust couldnât say he minded.
He stayed quiet for a moment as Rooney got lost in the world of the photo. It happened to him, too, sometimes; when he took the time to look at family photos, it was as if your mind dwelled in that captured moment. A better time. A better place. Frozen forever on paper.
âYou should tell me more about them,â Faust said, âYour family. I...understand what itâs like to miss them.â
âAnd, hey,â he added, âmaybe you have some embarrassing stories about my sister that I havenât heard yet.âÂ
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greyhatgabe
Gabriel had been sitting in the back corner of the bunker in an attempt to keep as far away as possible from the others. He was scared, and if he wasnât careful, he was going to have a full-on freak-out. He sat with his eyes closed, taking deep, calming breaths but it felt like his heart rate was only getting faster. Gabeâs eyes snapped open, head-turning towards the familiar voice beside him.
   âYeah, but only if youâre sharing.â He joked, a breathy, almost disheartened laugh leaving his lips. âYou were with uh, Perry, hey?â Gabriel asked, a sympathetic look on his face as he pulled a purple bic lighter from the pocket of his jacket. âWe donât have to talk about it, but I am here for you.â He added, placing his hand on Faustâs shoulder.
Faust took the lighter with a grateful nod. He lit the cigarette just as Gabe asked about Perry. He winced and placed the cigarette between his lips.
âI was,â he said, âIt, uh. It was a hard thing to see.â He exhaled shakily, watching the smoke from the cigarette curl in the air. Faust coughed and waved it away from his face.
âBut Iâm...okay,â he passed Gabe the cigarette. He leaned his head back so that he could stare up at the cracked, water-stained ceiling. After a momentâs pause, he continued, âAnd by okay, I mean that Iâm just numb and canât process anything right now. You know how it is.â
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calbeckbs
Cal was thankful heâd just eaten a pretty large meal before being cage away like an animal, though he knew the others may not have been so lucky. The children behind him devoured their sweet snack with smiles on their faces, and he could sense the shift in Faustâs liveliness just slightly.
âThank you.â
As the hushed chattering and tiny giggles began, he offered the other a small smile in gratitude. If there was one thing Cal knew, it was that food helped to cure all - especially a room full of scared children. He was already making an impact on the mood in the room.
The question came as sort of a mild shock to him. Taking a moment to think of why he actually thought theyâd be fine, he hitched the knees of his jeans up and took a seat on the ground beside the other.
âListen, kid⌠Iâm not gonna sit here and tell you that everything is gonna be all sunshine and rainbows.â
He bit his lip in thought, he knew how he must be feeling; having been the last one alive with Perry. It reminded him of losing Anna⌠Sure, Cal wanted to dwell in his sorrows just as much as the next guy, he just couldnât bring himself to stop fighting. To stop truly living. If nothing else, for the sake of everyone else that still relied on him. His hand reached up to showcase the survivors around them, then planted itself on Faustâs shoulder.
âBut youâve got a room full of people here who would stop at nothing to fight foryou and beside you, every step of the way. Might get a little roughed up along the way, but⌠to be expected, right?â
âRight,â Faust echoed, staring into nothing as he finished his Pop-tart.
At that moment in time, Calâs words were falling on deaf ears. Future Faust was sure to appreciate them, once heâd processed things properly. Present Faust was a different story.
âYouâve had blood on your hands before, right?â Faust asked, âNot just in the literal sense. How do you...deal with it?â he hated how his voice cracked on the last few words.
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