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zet-sway · 3 years

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THE FROZEN SEA CHAPTER 2

I've literally never done a chapter 2 to anything before. It's boring but whatever, I wrote it. Hopefully I can find the stamina to continue. Longfic is so difficult (╥﹏╥)

Word Count: ~3000 Rated: "T" AO3 Link: "The Frozen Sea - Chapter 2" Pairing: Thane / FemShep Summary: "When they finally disembark, she beelines for the elevator with a painfully stiff spine and heavy footfalls. In that moment, Thane can see the weight of her two missing years more clearly than ever before, her humanity practically seeping through the cracks in her hardsuit."

- - - - - - - - - - -

It's shortly after breakfast when Shepard appears in his room unannounced. Fresh mug of coffee in one hand and datapad in the other, she takes the seat across from him without a word. Her eyes are glued to the screen, worried, but focused.

"Shepard, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her mug hits the table with a soft thump and her eyes flick up at him from under her lashes.

"What do you know about the collectors?"

Curious, he leans in, hands folded. "I've encountered them before, although not directly."

Shepard raises an eyebrow.

"My work has taken me to some less than desirable reaches of the galaxy," he says dryly.

"Ever killed one?"

By now he's unsurprised by her direct questions, but it's enough of a hint for him to understand there's definitely something afoot. Thane shakes his head. "No, I've only watched from afar. The Collectors have a reputation for black market dealings."

The datapad flickers off as she sets it down and takes a sip of her coffee. Then she summons an image of a planet he's never been to on her omni-tool. Horizon, a human colony.

"This morning I received an emergency directive from The Illusive Man. It's very likely we're about to go head to head with Collector forces for the first time."

Ah, that would be why she's here so early.

"How much longer until we arrive?"

"Sixty minutes. Tell me what you know."

He pauses to consider what might be most valuable to the mission.

"They fly, like insects."

Shepard visibly chokes on her coffee. "That's different." She transfers the planetary data to his omni-tool. "Suit up and meet me us upstairs in thirty."

With that, she gets up and walks out.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

They load up into the shuttle. Shepard is nearly silent but Garrus seems to be in good spirits.

"So the Collectors can fly? Is that right?" the turian asks, checking the safety on his rifle for the 6th time.

Thane nods in his direction.

"I guess we're about to find out. We'll give em' hell, Commander."

Shepard merely hums her approval. Her mind is elsewhere.

When the shuttle touches down, she's the first one on the ground, motioning for the others to hold position inside the shuttle until she gives her signal. It's not until she's confident that Mordin's protection against the seeker swarms is effective that she allows them to press forward.

While she forges ahead to clear the proverbial brush for them, Thane wonders about the duality of her. Kalahira's messenger, making every attempt to prolong their lives. The goddess does not take life for the pleasure of it, she needs them for the battle ahead.

He wonders if she, too, will be swept up in the coming tide.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Fighting the Collectors makes her skin crawl.

The drone of seeker swarms and collector wings never seems to fade out from her mind. Their flesh is… wrong, somehow. Filled with fluids, too soft, with unseeing alien eyes. Garrus bolts one on her flank and its head bursts like overripe, rotting fruit. She cringes and presses forward, Thane by her side tearing down barriers. He’ll have biotic burns after this mission if she’s not careful.

They’re armed with particle weapons - unsurprising given their intel. The air singes in the wake of each shot as they move from cover to cover. The deeper they move into the colony, the more horrors they unearth.

By now, Shepard is accustomed to the knowledge that husks were once people. But two years gone has brought frightening new context to that idea when she sees what other horrors the Collectors have in their arsenal. Grotesque amalgams of... things. People. Other creatures. What is she even supposed to call this four legged thing with a mass of human heads below it's carapace? Is this what the Collectors are doing with these people?

They manage a small number of survivors. Too few. But among them is Ashley Williams - a fucking sight for sore eyes if Shepard’s ever seen one.

"Ash, it's good to see you," she says, face splitting into a grin. It takes all her self control to not throw her arms around the soldier.

Ever the professional, Ashley stands resolute among her Alliance compatriots. She's grown into a strong soldier, and Shepard beams with no small amount of pride.

"I didn't want to believe it was you. It really is you, right? Shepard?"

"It's me, in the flesh." Shepard says, arms outstretched in a proud gesture.

Ashley looks incredulous, her expression is hard to read. "And you too, Garrus - what happened to your face?"

Garrus flares his mandibles in a characteristic turian smirk. "Just a scratch, really. A rocket to the face will do that."

"Jesus, Shepard..." The way Ashley's tone trails off immediately makes the air turn sour. Her smile twists away into nothing. "You're really with Cerberus, then?"

"It isn't what it looks like, Ash." The words are thick in her throat. Even if it's true, the phrase sounds utterly hollow.

"I thought you died. I… we… had a funeral for you. People don't just come back from the dead,” Ashley says, eyes like daggers.

"I didn't believe it myself until I saw the final report. You can read it if you like," Shepard’s face scrunches up in discomfort. The photos still haunt her. "Meat and tubes, Ash.”

"I'm disappointed you'd even let yourself believe that." Her voice is rising, eyes narrowed in accusation and contempt. The look on her face is every bit as painful as her words.

Shepard chews on her lip, trying to think of something to say, anything at all, because after everything they’d been through, Ashley is one of the last people she’d have expected....

“Cerberus,” she mutters. “Shepard, I trusted you.”

Shepard loses focus rapidly after that, her mind forcibly shrouding the words in a fog if only to get through the moment, second by agonizing second. Some days it's like she's been resurrected into a living nightmare. The sting of rejection after two lost years burns like her lungs in the vacuum of space.

"I woke up on a Cerberus operating table," she interrupts, loudly. "They told me the station was under attack, so I grabbed my gear and got the fuck on with it. And then they told me I'd been dead for two years." She takes a step back, eyes flicking out across Horizon's dull gray sky. "I didn’t ask for this. For all I know, The Illusive Man put a fucking chip in my head set to blow the minute I disappoint him."

She can feel their eyes on her. Garrus looks lost, Thane is stone still and motionless. The heavy silence threatens to crush her heart into a hundred cybernetic pieces.

"I'm just as confused as you are. But I'm trying to stop this ," she gestures around at the disquieting emptiness of the colony, the grisly remains of slain Collectors. Her heart is racing, her head seething with the heat of indignation. She can taste the bitter words that sling past her teeth, regretting them the moment they hit the air.

"I wish you the best, Ash. If someone ever undeadifies your fucking corpse against your will, I’ll try not to hold it against you."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

No one speaks as they board the shuttle back to the Normandy. Shepard's eyes are glued to the floor, her shoulders slacked in an uncharacteristic display of upset.

Thane and Garrus exchange glances but neither dare to break the silence.

When they finally disembark, she beelines for the elevator with a painfully stiff spine and heavy footfalls. In that moment, Thane can see the weight of her two missing years more clearly than ever before, her humanity practically seeping through the cracks in her hardsuit. Garrus looks just as worried. They part ways at deck three. Shepard's eyes are distant as the elevator doors snick closed.

When she doesn't appear for dinner, Thane tries - and fails - to knock loose the worry. It's certainly no business of his, and if she wanted his counsel she'd have sought him out by now. Still, he's compelled.

He fixes a fresh mug of coffee, and a mug of tea for himself, before boarding the elevator.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

He finds her sat on the couch, smushed into the corner with a datapad in her hand. Eyes ringed with fatigue, she looks so much smaller than she had on the battlefield. This close to the hull, her cabin is colder than the rest of the ship.

"You didn't show for dinner. I brought you some coffee. May I sit with you?"

She heaves an audible sigh, as though reluctant to accept. "Sure."

Maybe he’s invading her privacy, but there’s something about the way she looks that’s more vulnerable than he expected. Her hair is mussed and she’s wearing a black sweatshirt. The zipper is pulled low enough for him to see her dog tags glimmering against the bare skin in the valley of her chest. If she notices his wandering gaze, she doesn’t seem to care. She's tending to her own needs - without the requisite to prove a damn thing to anyone, least of all him.

He seats himself in an adjoining chair and passes the mug to her. At least she seems to enjoy the warmth in her hands, bringing it close to her face to inhale the scent of it.

"About what happened on Horizon-" he begins.

She sits up to face him. "Thane, I know you mean well. But please don't concern yourself."

He can see the pain etched into her features, though. It's hard to imagine, but if he looks close enough, she’s there. This unguarded human, the same woman who put the fear of god in him just days ago. He decides it’s better to respect her boundaries, and stands to depart.

"I understand, Commander. I’ll leave you be.”

“Wait,” she says, tiredly. Thane pauses, waiting on her next words. “Sorry, it’s just been… a long day.”

Slowly, he eases back into his seat to wait in silence while she gathers her thoughts.

"Did you hear about Eden Prime, two years ago?"”

“Yes, a Prothean beacon was destroyed there,” he nods.

“Yeah. That’s where I met Ashley,” she sighs, leaning back against the cushions. “A lot of things happened on Eden Prime. Video feeds caught Sovereign just before touchdown. We lost Jenkiens within minutes of landing, and Nihlus not long after. The Geth were there, Saren was there. The beacon exploded and knocked me cold.” Life changed pretty fast after that.”

The way she recalls the memory is disorienting. He reminds himself that it probably is confusing for her - and she’s probably better off for it. Sometimes life without perfect recall sounds like a blessing.

Shepard takes a tentative sip from her coffee before continuing.

“Ashley was with me when we stopped Saren. She’s a great soldier, and a good friend. The things we saw together, the people we lost... I never expected her to be so cold.” Another sip, and she closes her eyes. “Shit hurts.”

“I see,” he says, two nearly meaningless words in the storm of his own memories. He thinks of Kolyat, so small all this years ago. Somewhere, he's now a man with accusations and hurts of his own.

Thane shifts in his seat, refocusing his attention on Shepard. “What changed?”

“Cerberus,” she frowns. “She’s angry, and she has every right to be."

"The way you spoke on Horizon gave me a different impression."

"You're right, and I regret what I said to her. But I..." Shepard chews on her lip. "I don't want to... talk down on other soldiers. But I'm not surprised she doesn't see this the way I do. We didn't see eye to eye when Kaidan died, either. There's a reason we aren't all special forces."

Kaidan, Jenkins, Nihlus - Thane hasn’t heard these names before, but he decides now isn’t the time to pry. Instead, he asks, "You believe her military rank cheapens her understanding of what happened?"

Shepard shakes her head. "Not her rank. Her training."

That piques his interest. Thane sets his elbows on his knees and leans in. "You're both Alliance, how was your training different?"

Shepard stares at the ceiling as if searching for the words. Idle fingers trace her dog tags against her chest, holding them out to him.

"This symbol, N7," she begins. "It's from the interplanetary combatives training program. N is special forces, and 7 is the highest rank of training. The duties and privileges are different, but N7 is... kind of like the Spectres, in terms of a kind of exclusivity."

She lets the tags drop against her chest, and this time she zips her sweatshirt, like she wants to forget about them.

"You had to be selected?"

"Yeah, for candidacy." She stares into her coffee and downs the rest of it before lacing her fingers behind her head, eyes fixed firmly on everything but him. "No one leaves ICT unchanged. I thought it would be like a fucked up version of boot camp. It kind of was, but that's not what made it so hard. We were thrust on to the front lines, thrown into impossible situations. There were people who…" she leans down on her elbows and sighs, restless. "People die during these promotions, Thane. People depend on you for their lives and you-” she laughs, sort of, "You depend on them not to be stupid.

"You don't feel proud of what you've done. You just... you change how you look at the world. Every wink of sleep, every moment of rest, whatever. It has to be earned. They give you a mission, and you can't go home until it's done. Sometimes you know you're sending good, honest soldiers against fatal odds. It's fucked - it really is, but you're the last line of defense for that mission. And it has to get done, or even more people could die. So you fight - dirty, if you have to - anything to complete the mission without losing more of your men. Sometimes that means…" Her mouth twists into a lopsided half-smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "...the enemy of your enemy is your friend.”

The enemy of their enemy - Cerberus. The entire ship understands this, but Ashley had not. Polarizing moralities, indeed.

"By the time I was promoted,” Shepard continues, “I got why every N7 I've ever met never stays in one place for long."

"I think I understand,” he says quietly.

A moment of silence passes before she glances at him, curiously.

"Was training like that for you too?"

Thane shakes his head. "Not quite. It was intense for different reasons. But I never knew anything else. Our entire lives were training and discipline. I rarely socialized outside of our…" he pauses, thinking. "I think the closest word would be 'monastery.'"

"Monastery?" Shepard asks, finally meeting his eyes. "Was religion part of your training?"

"No, but the… asceticism of our lives bore resemblance to a monastery." He holds her inquisitive gaze with a smile. "I started going to services just to get away from my studies, but eventually I found comfort in them.”

The memories are pleasant, actually. Stealing away from the others for prayer service was like a special privilege.

She smiles. "That's kind of nice, I guess."

He recalls the scent of incense, the chanting, the faces of trusted mentors, and when he speaks there's a hint of nostalgia in his tone.

"The priest became like a father to me, in some ways. At least, I thought of him often when..."

The words almost slip his mouth, but he catches them, freezing them in his throat.

When Kolyat was born.

Slammed with the realization that he hasn’t felt this glib with another person in years, he fidgets uncomfortabltly. It’s a disquieting change in how he’s used to conducting himself.

"Another time, perhaps,” he says. If he's lucky, she won't bring it up again.

Shepard raises an eyebrow, but there's no judgement in her gaze. She wrings her hands where they hang between her knees. "I get it. Some things are too painful."

Painful isn't quite the word he would use, but it’s close enough. In truth, the guilt is what withholds him. Like the more time that passes without his son, the less he deserves the memory of him.

"Sorry for all this. Honestly I... It's been two years for everyone else, but a few months for me. Sometimes it can feel isolating.”

He offers a kind smile, standing and collecting her empty mug. “I can relate. Those of us forged under extreme circumstances seldom find others who understand us.”

She smiles, and this time it reaches her eyes. "Thanks for thinking of me, Thane."

"You're quite welcome. I enjoy your company, Shepard," he says, his voice warm. "I'll let you rest."

"Likewise." She stands to see him out, bidding him goodbye with a grateful hand on his arm. She seems more like herself. "See you at PT."

He leaves, back to the silence of his makeshift quarters to mull over their conversation. The ghost of her handprint lingers on his arm until sleep claims him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

This is the biggest fanfic yolo I've ever done. Send help writing is hard lol ┐(‘～`;)┌

#zet writes things #thane krios #thane #fshrios #shrios #the frozen sea au

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jessikahathaway · 5 years

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Crash Landing Part I

Oh henlo frens.

I did actual medical research for this fanfiction. Please, do not attempt any of the medical procedures in this work of fiction. If you are suffering any sort of medical disorder or injury, please contact your local physician.

I do not own the photo.

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Alien!AU, Sci-fi, Romance, Smut (Future), Adventure.

Warning: There are descriptions of medical procedures, please be aware of this when reading.

As a medical technician in study, the opportunity for practice never gets past you. You’d go to the local shelters and offer advice on small colds or even lacerations. Your village wasn’t very large, and a majority of the people who lived here, worked in the closest city or town.

You were a strong believer in natural remedies and searching through the forests to gather plenty of herbal painkillers and mint oils for recurring headaches. Rarely did you send away people to go to the closest clinic, because people around here weren’t rich.

Money wasn’t abundant in your modest village. People shared and took care of one another. Lived off of what nature gifted them with and relied on their own two hands to achieve stability in their humble lives.

Everyone you’d grown up with had either left in pursuit of the flashy lives and new exploits of the cities... People and booze being a strong pull to stave off the boredom that could creep into everyone’s bones.

However, you were an exception. You hated the city, the loud sounds and crowds only serving to scare you and giving you a massive headache. But, you were a self taught medical student hoping to head for the same city you loathed. As much as you loved and preferred herbal remedies, sometimes the knowledge gained from professional medicine is better than your salves. When you gathered enough money from helping the people locally, you planned on starting some classes. Staying in town to help of course.

People around you supported your decision, even though women weren’t generally accepted into the medical field. You were determined to make a difference. Cause a ripple in the pond of the cosmos and see what new things were to be discovered.

So far, it was going well. You had enough money saved up to no doubt get you through a few semesters at a small college. Your dream of helping people could come to fruition if you just kept going, and didn’t give up...

Until it all came crashing down around you.

A fire.

It had been a regular morning, waking up in your small cottage on the outskirts of the small lake where you’d see fishermen heading out for the morning catch. But, today was different.

You lived just beyond the boundaries of the village, so you wouldn’t hear much at night other than the soft waves from the lakeshore.

And that night you heard nothing either.

No desperate pounding on your door, nothing to elude to danger. But it was because it all happened too fast for anyone to comprehend.

You woke up and started making your coffee, one of the luxuries you could never live without. The local general store always had some in stock in case you were to come in for your fix.

The smell comforted you in the brisk morning. You walked out of your home and sat on the porch, grabbing a medical terminology book you’d been studying and getting a start on the surgical section of the text, when you smelt something... off...

It wasn’t unusual for you to smell bonfire smoke, as many families had one to get together and talk about their lives, to visit and to make memories with each other under the starlight. Warmed by the flames as they made merry.

However, this morning was different. The air didn’t smell of simple burning firewood, it smelt of scorched wood and... the horrible stench of charred flesh tainted with boiling blood. You knew the scent well from having to handle multiple burn wounds from the local fletcher. A kind hearted gentleman perhaps just a bit too clumsy for his own good.

Soon, you were off your porch, your precious book forgotten as you ran through the forest towards the awful smell. You noticed that the closer you got to town, the more the air was thick with fog, perhaps smoke. Heart pounding and feet aching you arrived on the outskirts of your beloved home... And the sight was ungodly.

Buildings collapsed and charred wood bare to the morning haze. You were frozen in your tracks as you gazed upon the scene before you. The entire village was razed, almost unrecognizable to your acute memory. Your favorite bakery sat in shambles, glass shattered about the ground outside.

You remember just the morning prior going to get a few croissants that sat in their box at home, waiting to be eaten. Now, they were a horrible sight to behold. One of the last things Mr. Noble had sold in his life.

They still sat in your window sill, rotting.

Mrs. Allison’s bookstore, gone. The books proved to be an incredible source of kindling. The building must’ve been swallowed in moments...

Your chest ached at the sights before you, and from the smoke inhalation you were subjecting yourself to. Quickly, you pulled out your handkerchief from your robe and doused it in water from the charred well. You applied the cool cloth to your face and kept walking.

The church where you’d helped so many during weekly mass was now a husk of its former comfort. Now, serving as a haunting reminder that God had turned his back on this town in their hour of need... Yet left you standing in the waste, alone.

Next would be where the Fletcher's station should have stood... Yet, there was nothing but chunks of stone and nearly decimated wood framework that sat, still smoldering. The heat you felt was nearly unbearable... You couldn’t imagine how it must’ve been a mere two hours before.

The blaze started here, you surmised, gathering more and more information as you looked around. The buildings next to the fletchers station had the most damage, and what hurt you the most was the fact that everything appeared to be rather fresh. This couldn’t have happened more than four hours ago. Everything was still smoking and bright red ambers showed in the morning dew.

You wandered aimlessly, the ground underneath your feet proving to still be hot as you felt your foot jolt in pain. You noticed that a metal mirror lay cracked in the Earth, no doubt from Emerson’s fine Jeweler’s that was only steps away. Taking your robe off you gathered the mirror and took it with you.

That mirror sits on your bedside table to this day. The cracked glass still serving as a reminder of this night.

Growing more and more desperate for human company, you began to yell.

“IS ANYONE OUT THERE?” you cried, looking from left to right for a sign of life the form from the ashes.

“CAROLINE!” you cried out for one of your close friends, the daughter of the Fletcher who would be turning eighteen in just a few weeks. She was planning on leaving for the city to become fashion designer. Proving to be just as skillful with her hand as her beloved father.

“MR. CEILBAKSKI!” the Polish man who moved in not even three years ago, who made delicious Perogies and started making toys for the children who adored his company.

“MISS SELIA!” you cried, falling to your knees on the wounded Earth below. She was the town’s teacher. She had taught you and realized your potential for helping others. Miss Selia was the woman who gave you her personal copy of an herbal remedies book that had set you on your path to where you stood today.

As you sat in the ash, a cold breeze came through the town. You then felt soft droplets of rain begin to brush your skin.

At that moment, you began to cry.

Slowly, the ash and smoke began to settle and the Earth’s wounds were healed by the gift of rain. The wood of the buildings cooled, the metal cracked from the temperature change. You heard the warping of glass and the smell began overwhelming.

You quickly found yourself vomiting into the gray ash that sat underneath you. Realizing that you were now alone in the world. Everyone you’d ever known in your life had been taken from you in one night. The worst part?

No one would ever know either.

People rarely ventured this far into the wilderness, seeing no point other than to trade. But trade was all organized by correspondence, and now seeing as you were the only residence... No one would be coming by at all.

Shame and disgrace drenched your being more than the rain from the heavens. You failed your townspeople. You were supposed to help them and keep them healthy, yet here you were, alive and well while they were all gone... Burned in the night while you slept comfortably in your bed.

The very thought disgusted you, causing another wave of nausea to wash over your body. Dry heaving, you clambered to your feet. You had to get away from here, the disappointment was immeasurable. You’d let them all down. It was your fault.

So, that day you decided...

You’d live in solitude for the rest of your existence, and never practice medicine again. You had no right, after how many died from your negligence.

Accepting your new found seclusion, you went home.

Leaving the village you had once loved so much, as a haunting memory.

* * *

The years that followed were mundane and silent. The only human interaction you had was from travelers that heard of your remedies. You simply told them you were no longer in practice, and they left... Sometimes offering some form of compensation for disturbing you.

You hadn’t much need for money.

You had some saved up from... before...

You sustained yourself and kept yourself alive by living off the land, like the others had before you. It was all very boring, and you longed for some form of excitement, or death. Whichever came first.

And you were living quietly, until one afternoon.

It was near dusk, you were sitting peacefully out on your porch, letting the warm sun bath your skin in light. The day had been wholly uninteresting, the only sort of thrill you had was when a branch fell onto your porch and made a knocking sound.

Travelers had stopped coming months ago.

Leaving you to your isolation as planned.

However, you found that you craved human people desperately. Although every time you found yourself longing, you reminded yourself of your misgivings and reprimanded your whimpering heart that this is what you deserved. You were to be alone, and that was the end of it.

That was, until a ear splitting BOOM echoed through the melancholy forest.

The sound of crunching metal and disturbed Earth ricocheted off the somber trees. You jolted from your chair where you found yourself nodding off, lost in your own thoughts. Ears ringing you rubbed your head in pain.

What in God’s name could’ve caused such a sound?

Your mind reeled at the sudden disturbance as you struggled to think of a logical reason for the sudden disruption. Could it be some sort of natural phenomenon that you simply had forgotten about? Were there hunters in the forest?

No... You’d heard hunters within the months, and none of their methods of capture were this deafening.

Perhaps it was a-

“HELP ME!”

A blood curdling scream reached your ears. Your body went cold. Someone was hurt.

Before you knew it you were on your feet and rushing towards the direction you swore to never venture towards again. Even though you hadn’t traveled the path in years, your legs remembered the turns and sights perfectly.

Turn left as the rotting oak tree, keep going straight for fifty paces.

Soon, you were back in the ruins of your ghostly past. And, right where the schoolhouse rubble used to sit, was an odd looking... something...

It was large, possibly the size of the former proudly standing church. It shone in the blazing afternoon sun. The smell of something foreign reached your nose and you coughed at the weird scent. You couldn’t describe ever smelling something like it before, and approached the vessel with caution.

Coughing, you attempted to speak.

“Hello?” your voice sounded off to your own ears. You had no need to speak in the silence of your life. You got closer to the vessel slowly, nervous to what you would find.

Suddenly, a groan of pain alerted you towards the remnants of Mr. Noble’s bakery. A person was on the ground, in a heap, covered in what looked like soot and other various smudges. You saw that they appeared to be male, however you weren’t sure... Because they were absolutely beautiful.

Their skin was pale and scuffed, but shone against the stark contrast of their bleak surroundings. They appeared to have a metal toned hair color that you’d never seen on a human being before.

“A-are you alright?” you asked, getting closer to their form. You immediately noticed the hiccuped breathing that no doubt was caused by a fractured costal. You bit your lip and tried not to think about it. “Can you hear me?” you asked, placing a hand on the ground next to them, not sure if you should get any closer to the stranger.

“Help... me...” they pleaded, their eyes not opening, but you could feel their agony as if it were your own.

“I-I...” you struggled.

You told yourself that you no longer had the right to practice after what occured in this very town years ago. And you hadn’t, other than making minor salves for your own personal use. However, this might be the worst case you’d ever seen.

And, just maybe...

If the Lord would grant you this one success, you could rest easier at night knowing you’d at least help one more person...

Just one more...

Without another thought you reached out and touched their head. They seemed to relax into your touch and you tested their arm to see if there were any fractures to inhibit your moving them

When you saw no reaction from the poor soul and felt no large fractures, you began to pull them up off the ground.

“Ah...” they grumbled in a low tenor... So it was a man...

“Sir, can you hear me? I’m going to need you to stand up, I’ll support you, but you have to try to stand up for me,” you persuaded. The male coughed and flexed his legs in an attempt to push himself up.

That small amount of strength was enough for you to get him up and resting against your side. Taking on the brunt of his weight you could feel how exhausted his body was. He needed to rest as soon as possible.

Interlocking your fingers and securing your hold around his waist you began to walk.

Slowly but surely you made it back to your cottage before darkness had completely encapsulated the world.

Walking into your home you helped the man onto your bed, nearly falling on top of him in your own fatigue. But now was not the time for sleep, there was much work to be done.

Quickly, your mind was set back into your medical knowledge. You rushed to your well outdoors and grabbed the cloths that were hanging on the wire outside to dry. You gathered up your skirts and hurried back inside before too much time elapsed.

Now was the time to make haste. The first twenty four hours after an incident were the make or break moments. It was here you decided if he lived or died.

“Just one more, please,” you begged to yourself as you set down the bowl of water and grabbed the familiar yellow sprigs of witch hazel and put them in the water. Witch hazel has many healing properties for the skin, not just with cleansing and anti-inflammatory. It would help with the bruising he would experience no doubt.

While letting the witch hazel set in the water for potency you ran to your cupboard in search of your peppermint salve. The peppermint will ease the ache of his muscles and help with his respiratory struggles as well.

Coming back to his side you looked at his clothing.

It looked nothing like what you’d ever seen before. Had clothing changed that much in the past years you’d been out of society? Certainly that wasn’t the case. Regardless of his odd attire, it was going to have to come off.

Your cheeks flushed red as your mind wandered to less appropriate thoughts, making you shake your head in frustration. He was your patient, not someone to fantasize about! How dare you think so lowly of someone in need!

You went to the odd metal clasps at the front of his, tunic? Whatever it may be, it opened quickly and you removed it and set it aside, looking at his torso in worry. There were multiple small cuts and scrapes that the witch hazel would cleanse properly, however, there were a few cuts that would need more attention.

Examining closer, you saw there was a shard of glass lodge in his pectoral that would need to be removed promptly. Another worrying discovery presented itself to you soon after.

The result of a collapsed lung showed on his skin. The bluish tint to his otherwise pale flesh made your heart skip in worry. He either was struck on the chest extremely hard, or there was something penetrating him from the back.

Quick to find the cause of his ailment you delicately pushed him on his side, ensuring that the collapsed lung wouldn’t be affected too harshly from the movement. Seeing no protruding injury you decided to make your decision.

You had to perform surgery. And soon.

Desperately thinking back to your medical textbooks you remembered that doing this would be risky, and you had to prepare accordingly. Rushing to your long forgotten medical cabinet you discovered your old, but clean medical tools. Searching for the open holed syringe, you almost cried with joy when it was in your hands.

Clambering over the young man with haste you settled yourself on his hips and gathered your courage. You’d never tried any kind of aspiration before this moment. You whispered a quick prayer for your patient’s safety before gripping the syringe and forcing it directly in the center of the blue twinged area. The man underneath you huffed in pain, but you were quick to begin removing the air that had been caught between the collapse lung and his chest cavity.

Eventually, you managed to get his breathing to ease and watching as the blue hue to his breath taking skin started to lessen as well. Soon, you grabbed your witch hazel infused water and began to cleans all of his wounds on his torso.

You glance at his legs and thanked God that there didn’t appear to be severe damage. Minor scrapes that could be easily cleansed and healed were the majority. A gash peaked out from underneath his pant leg...

Damn, you’d have to remove the trousers to see the full extent of the damage. You didn’t want to disrobe the poor man without his knowledge, but his health was of your main concern at the moment.

Slowly, you unbuckled his pants and tugged on the fabric gingerly, careful to not disturb any possible injuries lying underneath the material. Once his clothing was removed you found a sizable cut that would need sutures.

Grabbing your witch hazel solution you cleansed his laceration. You sighed and noticed that it was still bleeding badly. You collected your sewing kit and lit a candle. Holding the needle over the flame you watched and assessed its cleanliness. After a few more times in the fire you moved towards your patient. Ensuring that the area was dry and sterile you proceeded.

You sat in the dimming light of night and tied off the sutures and leaned back on your haunches.

It was no doubt closing in upon the witching hour. His survival now depended on him, and his ability to pull through the darkest hours of the night. If he woke to see morning, there was a very good chance of him to see many more days in the future.

You placed a cool cloth with the witch hazel on his forehead to dissuade fever from creeping in on him during the night. Next, you grabbed your garlic oil and placed a few drops in his mouth following with a few drops of peppermint oil to even out the stench.

Next you collected your basil lavender balm and rubbed it on his wrists and on the tender areas of his skin. When you brushed your hair out of your face you noticed his hair was caked with dried blood and a black, slick liquid. Your face turned up in displeasure before you hurried to gather some some and rosemary to clean his hair with. He’d need a bath when he woke, no doubt, but for now cleaning him up would be a good idea.

Setting your items down on the bedside table, you walked out to get a bowl of water for his hair. Pumping the well you thought back to what had unfurled in the past hours...

What was that large, vessel like structure in the town square? Who was the man currently sleeping in your bed and, what was he doing out in this area of the forest? So many questions swirled in your mind that what brought you out of your thoughts was the cold water sloshing on your feet. You’d overflown the bowl of water in your state.

Shaking your head you moved back towards your cottage. For now, the questions didn’t matter. Saving this man’s life what your main priority.

Kneeling beside him you collected the soap into a lather and washed his hair gingerly, making sure not to jostle him too aggressively. You didn’t feel any kind of fractures or tension in his neck. He was lucky in that respect, he could’ve been in a lot of trouble if his neck or spine had been injured. Leaning over his body you watched a shiver go down his form.

Was he cold?

You noticed that he was only clad in some sort of undergarments. You squealed at the realization of you not covering him properly!

“I’m sorry, hang on,” you whispered, rushing to your closet and getting some linens out. Coming back to his side you unfolded a soft sheet that would keep the bulk of the blanket from irritating his wounds. You wanted them uncovered for the night. Giving them the chance to breathe and in the morning you would bind them for recovery.

Laying the blanket over top of the sheet you watched as he seemed to settle slightly, tension leaving his torso. You rubbed your forehead in exhaustion. The day was taking its toll on you. However, there was still things to do.

Seizing one of your towels you dried his silver hair. You inspected the strands and found that they were naturally occuring. Not like that hair changing practice beauticians had began doing in the cities. Next you grabbed your brush and comb through his locks to get out any tangles so he would sleep comfortably. Right now, rest was imperative. His strained muscles needed to relax and keep from any kind of strenuous activities.

Examining your work you placed your hands on your hips with pride. You’d done what you could for him. At this sensation a few tears came to your vision. This was why you loved medicine. Bringing someone from the brink of death back, giving them their years back before they were taken too soon. It was these rewarding emotions that kept you going...

And perhaps, you could start again...

No!

You were only saving him because you were his only chance at survival... That’s the only reason you allowed yourself to aid him. And once he was healed, you’d never touch your instruments again...

But now, there were mundane chores to attend to.

You were efficient in taking his clothing out and dunking them in the lake, submerging them in the water and scrubbing them on your board to ensure all the gunk came out. There were decent slices taken out of the material that you’d have to mend later on...

His injuries shouldn’t take terribly long to heal. The real worries were his collapsed lung and his laceration of the left thigh. Once those were set for recovery, he’d have to leave. You preferred this solitude... Didn’t you?

Taking his clothing back towards your home you hung them out to dry, only then did you let yourself sink back onto the floor next to his bedside. You’d only sleep for a few moments, then you’d get to work on... on...

Sleep became harder to fight as you leaned against your bed. He’d be resting for a while, and so should you...

With these thoughts in your head, you drifted off into your dreams.

#Taehyung #Tae Tae #Taehyung Alien #Alien BTS #Jessika Hathaway #Crash Landing #BTS Smut #V #V BTS #V Bangtan #V BTS Taehyung #Smut #BTS Fanfic #bts fanfiction

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ink-whiskey-seats · 5 years

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22 & 29 for the fantasy writer asks

22. are there certain plants? flowers? fruits? spices? poison?

There are certain types of plants and poison! I won’t go too far into detail, mostly cause I have to really finish fleshing them out. BUT, overall, there are some different plants than here. Most notably, sleeper root, pearl buds, yest bark, and hyrin plant.

Sleeper root: a very bitter root that when sliced open and drained of juice, can be used to create a very potent sleeping draught. Drying the root after slicing can be ground up and eaten, making a slower acting sleep aid.

Pearl buds: Like the name suggests, they are buds that have a pearlescent glimmer to them. They never grow into full flowers, but they are very beautiful. When dried, they become very very fragile and can be ground into a fine dust that smells like cooked sugar and nearly burnt wood. The larger the buds, the more burnt they begin to smell.

Yest bark: It is a very thick bark that grows on a Yest tree; the bark is a dark red-orange closer to the roots and fades to pink-red when near the branches and at the very top is pale pink. You need to harvest the bark closer to the roots if you want the bark that will be more effective for treating fevers. The higher you are in the tree, the lighter the bark and thus the less effective it tends to be for treating fevers. However, the lighter bark is still useful when treating stomach aches; just don’t use too much of it.

Hyrin plant: A dark blue leaf with white buds, it is very pretty and effectively useless outside of digging up the roots and cooking them. They are very starchy and filling, almost like lotus roots.

Poisons!! Most of these are nature based, such as various berries, combinations of plants being distilled and oils made from various combinations. There is also magic poison, known as Rot. Rot happens when magic is pushed so far beyond the limit continously, and someone isn’t connected to ley lines, and begins to eat at the magic. This magic then poisons the host and corrupts them. They are left, at the end, a husk at best and at worst, a golem-like creature that’s almost like a zombie but intelligent and magical. You have nothing left of yourself but a small part that is forced to watch until your soul is released from the shell that became of your body.

29. are there any minor characters you want to talk about? what is their role?

*cracks fingers* How long do you have--?

But seriously, I adore Rosie and all of the Fell Clan, or Ruth, Holt, Halt, Iris, and Sofia.

Rosie was Rowan’s wife. She died two years before the story picks up in the second part, so she’s technically a minor character, despite having a large impact on Rowan’s life. Rowan is bi, as was Rosie, and he was able to move on from her passing but it’s still taken a lot out of him. Rosie was a stablizer for Rowan when he was dealing with a lot of terrible things in his life (I won’t say what because plot) and made sure he kept going. She also killed an absolute ass known as Trellis (I will explain him in a moment)

Ruth was Rowan’s adopted mother, and tried her best to raise him despite not being nomadic, or, as Rowan’s character base is Cherokee Native American, understanding the full custom’s Rowan would have had growing up with his tribe (had they all not been slaughtered). She did a fairly good job of it, and when Rowan came of age, told him if he so chose, could go and travel with some of the nomadic tribes that came through, especially since many nomadic tribes that have caravans or trade with towns/cities, will take on new travelers and let them go with them for a ways. Sometimes, those travelers end up becoming part of the tribe or nomadic group, regardless of who they are or where they came from previously. He ended up traveling with the group for two years, which is how he met Rosie, who was a blacksmith in a large city very far away from his town. After two years, they decided to go their own way and after about four years, six years total, they returned to the small town and settled down.

Sofia was Rowan’s sister, a fire mage and had half a ley line connection. She is Ruth and Halt’s only biological child, but never made her siblings feel like they weren’t her siblings. She stood up for Rowan when they were children almost constantly and would happily get in a fight, either to start one or break one up, if it meant she would protect those she cared about. Her role is to be the one that made Rowan outgoing, and endlessly patient due to her own hot headedness, mischief, and endlessly curious nature that would get them all in trouble.

Iris was the oldest sister, and taught Rowan how to maintain his cool and when to lash out against people. She is selectively mute, due to intense trauma she experienced as a very young child, and prefers to sign, but she will easily talk circles around anyone, and at times, her hands will almost seem to blur. She was also adopted by Ruth and Halt.

Holt was Rowan’s younger brother and has an Indian base. Ruth tried to make sure he had as well rounded an education about his culture as she could manage so he knew more than the town they grew up in. Holt’s role is to be a brother to Rowan and an anchor to reality when he floats off in magic.

Halt was their father, married to Ruth, and cared deeply about all his children. He was a very down to earth man who would travel several days to a much larger city with his family to take them to large markets, read in the collegiums, and coax them to trust themselves. He was funny, and patient, and was very much the kind of man who would make tea while everyone else lost their minds in a stressful situation.

NOW THE ASSHOLES--!!

Trellis, aka utter piece of shit: He was a wanna-be trader that turned into a smuggler and human trafficker. He nearly got Rowan killed several times and had attempted to poison him several times over a period of months. During this time, Rowan was struggling with his magic and Trellis heard about the man matching Rowan’s description from Huros, a very powerful and influential woman in the East, that gave him pause. He then decided to expand his profit and “hire” Rowan on as an extra magical hand, more for show than magical prowess (given Rowan’s very powerful, though very passive magic) and tried to kill Rowan, and failing that, attempted to maim him and then poison him. Rowan found out, after the first few times given Trellis is a skilled liar and manipulator, and attempted to leave. Rosie, having not yet met Rowan yet, stumbled upon Trellis threatening to kill Rowan, who had been actually poisoned this time, and decided to stab him. She then took Rowan to the doctor and “accidentally” let Trellis bleed out. No one misses him; he had wanted posters everywhere. Rowan doesn't hate him; he hated him but now that he's dead he has no emotion towards the man.

Sequina: Huros’ right hand woman at present, the mage that burned Rowan’s throat when he was a child to the point that scar tissue built up so much that he could not swallow or eat without a potion she specifically made to make it a little easier but only just. She is one of the few people that Rowan actually hates.

#clockworkgalaxies #thank you wyatt!!!#I love your questions #ask meme #wizard and the crow #SUDDENLY PLOT

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heyitsdoe · 3 years

Text

Perhaps We'll Meet Another Day | One Piece | #1 - Trust

There's just a few things Lexi knows for certain nowadays. God is dead or, hell, he never existed to begin with. Physical wounds heal with time. You'll run out of tears eventually. Worst of all, you can't even trust yourself. The unprecedented part of living in this zombie infested world? Remaining sane when the line distinguishing man and monster is blurred beyond interpretation.

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x OC Zombie AU OVERALL WARNINGS: Blood, gore, violence, mentions of rape, NSFW, questionable morality

(Please note that violence, blood and gore, strong language, and overall despairing themes will be prevalent throughout the story, so if that may be upsetting to you, I would turn away now and do not read. Kinda goes with the genre, unfortunately. The more severe warnings--rape, NSFW, etc--will still be applied to specific chapters, but this saves me from having to put a general warning on all chapters going forward.)

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Words: 5.4k

PART ONE

Her eyes pierced through the dark street, settling on the dangling and decrepit sign of the pharmacy, it's neon long having been used up and the colors fading rapidly with each rain that came down. From behind the overturned and burned-out car on the opposite side of the road, she could spot the large white metal shelves inside the pharmacy, hopefully still full of medicine and other health supplements.

If the city hadn't have been so populated when the outbreak hit them, this wouldn't be so dangerous, she thought, eyes catching movement to the side. Two shambling figures, slow and mindless, meandered their way across the sidewalk. Their ashy gray skin and torn sections of flesh looked even more disgusting and menacing in the dark. Zombies. Even from a distance, their ragged moans carried on the wind, and she winced at the sound. Lexi never could get used to their sounds, the thought of them having once been people still at the back of her mind.

They walked their way across the road, to the right of the pharmacy, until they disappeared behind the buildings on the other side. At least she knew they were there. The silent and unseen ones were the most dangerous. And she could handle just two, idly touching the handle of the hunting knife on her belt. Any more than that and things could get complicated.

Deciding that she'd waited long enough to survey the location, Lexi hoisted up her trusty AR-15 and rose from her cover behind the ruined car. Her boots made only hollow thuds against the ground as she half-walked, half-jogged towards the next available object to hide behind. This car, once a bright red, wasn't burned but scratched all over the sides and doors, crushed beyond use. From this new vantage point closer to the street intersection, she dropped a knee and peered over the wreck.

To her right she could see the two undead from before, still oblivious to her presence. Her gaze swung left. Further down there was a group of four or five more zombies, still quite a ways and of no concern to her if she was quiet enough. Some stood, swaying with the wind, while the rest shambled aimlessly in the street.

Lexi trained her eyes on the drug store entrance, not seeing any significant defensive value in the glass thing. She sighed, reaching for the pack on her back. It was lighter than she would have liked it to be, but that was why she was braving the more dangerous streets of the city to begin with. Having little food or medicine would kill her off far quicker than those mindless husks of what were once human. Unlatching the hooks, she opened the flap, reaching inside to grab her thick padlock, the key dangled on her necklace so she wouldn't lose it.

It seemed she'd have to improvise some sort of barricade once she got inside. She didn't like using her padlock very much, simply because in a tight spot it was very easy to forget about it. Pharmacies usually had large metal shelving units that held the medication. Lexi didn't know how heavy they were, or how loud it would be to move them, but maybe it would work out to use those instead. But all of that was warranted on the door being open. There was no telling what the state of the door or inside would be until she actually got there.

Adjusting her army cap in place, and double-checking her assault rifle, she watched only for a second longer before ducking out from behind the crushed car. Kicking away trash and debris from underfoot, her ear was trained on the two closer zombies, waiting for that distinct wail that they'd picked up her fleshy scent. In this moment, the darkness aided her, shielding her from the diminished sights of the moaning and groaning undead. It also looked like the ones further down hadn't spotted her, for which she breathed a sigh of thanks. Her hurried steps took her straight to the door, grabbing the handle with a quick tug. It stuck.

'Dammit.' She thought, scowling at the thing and dropping to a crouch on the ground. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. She reevaluated her options.

Looking around, there was a chain-link fence directly next to the pharmacy, maybe blocking off a back-entrance in the alley. It was worth a shot, since she wasn't getting in through the front anytime soon without alerting all the cannibalistic creatures on the street.

Strapping her rifle across her shoulders, she stuffed the padlock in her pocket and grabbed onto the fence, hoisting herself up. The links shook with a soft rattle, but that was enough for the two closer ones to hear, and they groaned loudly. Throwing care to the wind, Lexi scrambled up the fence as quickly as she could, hearing the fast footsteps quickly approaching her. It seemed they had alerted the other group, because she heard loud moans further down the street coming closer as well.

Ignoring that paralyzing fear in her heart that she wouldn't be fast enough, she continued to climb, finally reaching the top and swinging her leg around to the other side.

Safely able to look behind her, she watched as the two terrifying monsters ambled along towards her position, and she swung the other leg over the top, clinging to the metal fence as she climbed down the other side.

Once she was down far enough, she let go of the fence and dropped the rest of the way, hitting the ground seconds before the two slammed against the metal fence, clawing through the links to snatch at her. She backed away, catching her breath. Not far behind these two came the other group. They crowded around the other two, groaning, moaning, and snarling at the flesh and meat out of their reach. The chains bent towards her under the piled weight of their bodies, and she feared they would push the whole thing over, or create a hole in the bottom large enough for them to get through.

Staring at the creatures, she pulled on her pair of gloves and zipped up the leather jacket, covering every bit of exposed flesh on her arms as she could. Survivors of the outbreak had found out very quickly that even a tiny scratch from one of the infected could turn you in a matter of hours. It was better to avoid close combat with them in the first place, but firing off her gun in the middle of the infested city was not a good idea.

Lexi pulled out a bandana from her bag, the stench of all those rotting and disgusting bodies sending a wave of nausea through her. No matter how often she came into contact with these things, the smell was the worst, and it seemed to be unique to each one. The usual rot and ruin was there, but whatever they'd been before seemed to have an influence on their stink as well. The closest thing she could compare it to was a mix of rotting fish and raw sewage, all mixed together.

Tying the thin fabric around her nose and mouth, she pulled her knife from her hip and slowly approached the fence, keeping her distance from their hands. Then, almost as an afterthought but a good idea, she began cutting off their hands one by one, eliminating the possibility of being grabbed or scratched. They fell to the ground with disgusting thuds, piling up on the opposite side of the fence from them, until all 12 or so hands had been severed from their bodies.

The hungry creatures did nothing but continue to moan, snapping their mouths as if to eat her from this distance. Lexi waited until one of their heads were directly against the fence, before her knife buried itself in its brain, pulling it back to safety before they could bite through her gloves. Immediately it went limp, the moans coming to a stop. It's handless arms slipped through the links as it fell to the ground, but the others simply stepped over it's fallen body to try to get closer to her.

Lexi waited patiently as she carefully killed each one, always mindful of where her hands were in relation to their mouths. If you didn't take every precaution, one slip up could cost you your life, after all.

Finally, the last moans died away, the zombie slumping to the ground with the other five, and Lexi let out a sigh of relief when all was quiet again.

Pulling away the bandana, she used it to wipe off the blood from her blade, reattaching it to her hip once it was clean. Turning to the back of the small alley, she saw the door set into the brick wall of the building. Approaching it, she turned the knob, smiling when it opened after a little shove of her shoulder.

Pulling her knife once more, she crouching in the doorway, listening for any sign of those rotting things inside. After several seconds of silence, she finally shut the door behind her, dropping to the floor to rummage through her backpack again. She pulled out the flashlight, flicking the switch on and straightened again, pulling the straps back over her shoulders.

Lexi slowly moved the beam through the interior of the place, looking around. The inside looked relatively untouched, having seen more trashed and scavenged places in her travels before. The locked entrance must have deterred many a scavenger in the past. Most of the shelves were empty, so someone had gotten in before, but there were a lot more places to look throughout the building, so she systematically searched each one.

There were a few bottles of tylenol and generic antibiotics that had rolled under the third shelf, and she stuffed those in her pack. An opened bottle of birth control pills had spilled all over the floor and bottom shelf of one of the units, but she ignored that. Her quiet steps took her through aisle after aisle, snatching up all the pills and bandages she could find. Whoever had gone through here before must have left in a hurry, since there was still a lot of supplies left behind.

At the back shelves, it seemed more of the medication had been forgotten or ignored. There were several bottles of cream and ointment, and she took those as well. You never knew what would come up, and she wanted to be prepared for anything. For what she had expected to come away with in this pharmacy, she was pleasantly surprised by the amount of supplies still left there, and her pack was soon feeling a lot heavier than before, a comforting weight.

Her body froze when she heard a thump upstairs. Eyes to the ceiling, she recalled that from the street she could see an apartment or two above the pharmacy. This was probably family-owned then, with the previous owners living above their shop. Another thump above her head, and she automatically placed a hand on her knife, walking carefully through the aisle towards the back of the shop. There was a door with a sign in the middle that said 'Employees Only.' It was the only other door she could see. Getting closer, she saw that it was ajar a few inches, and Lexi's eyes narrowed. Someone was definitely there, whether they be alive or undead had yet to be determined.

Pushing the door open far enough for her to go through, she swung her flashlight at the steps leading up. They were free from debris and clean, except for very obvious muddy boot prints heading up them. She crouched down, touching the spots with a hand. The mud was dry, crumbling beneath her fingers. Too old to be the person she could hear walking around up there.

Straightening, she heard another thump and decided to investigate. Ascending the stairs quietly, she turned to face the landing up top, seeing two doors set apart in the hallway. They were numbered 1 and 2, and she assumed they were individual apartments. There was another thump, sounding suspiciously like a wooden object, and Lexi pressed her ear to the first apartment door, hearing nothing. Not in there. Swallowing thickly, she kept her flashlight beam close to her, not wanting to attract the attention of whoever was inside the second apartment preemptively.

Reaching the door of the second living space, she could hear the shuffling sound louder inside, of boots against tile and the opening and closing of cabinets. So, it was probably a survivor like her. She felt a bit of joy at the thought of someone else still being alive in this hellish world. Still, the very real threat still remained that the mystery person was hostile, or that she'd be robbed or killed for her supplies.

But, her curiosity won out. Nevertheless, she unslung her assault rifle just in case.

Pushing open the door with the barrel of her gun, she stepped inside carefully. The dark apartment showed no sign of life, litter and trash all over the floor. She remained quiet as she tiptoed further in, though her foot brushed against the corner of the couch as she passed, creating a similar thumping sound.

The person stopped, all noise ceasing. They were in the kitchen by the sound of it, and she moved to circle around towards it, then stopped. Lexi licked her lips, deciding that simply taking the person by surprise would be a bad and possibly fatal idea.

"I know you're there, but I'm not hostile. I was downstairs scavenging and I heard you moving around."

Still, there was no sound from the kitchen. Obviously they didn't quite believe her. Though they had no reason to take her word for it. She'd react the same if the roles were switched. Still, if they hadn't turned the corner and started filling her with bullets already, that was also a good sign.

"We have no reason to trust each other." She said obviously, hoping to get at least some response from whoever was there. She didn't bother turning the corner to see them herself, they might take it as a hostile action and attack. No, she would let them come out. "I understand that."

She glanced at the floor, then her weapon. Sighing silently, she clicked on the safety of her gun and held her hands out harmlessly. Knowing the other person couldn't see that, she slowly crouched to the ground. "I'm going to put my weapon down." There was a thump as the metal hit the floor gently, and she rose back up, taking a few steps away from her weapon for good measure. "Full disclosure, I have a knife as well, but I'd prefer to keep that."

There was still silence, but finally she heard a scuffle of movement, and the figure stepped out cautiously from their position behind the counter.

It was a man, dressed in an dark blue shirt, and strangely spotted pants, their pattern mimicking that of a white and black hat strapped to his belt. Tall and lean, he held a sword in both hands. Her eyes widened, not expecting that in the slightest. Though, thinking about it, it wasn't such a bad weapon of choice. It gave him a wide range of attack. His hands were tattooed, his gray eyes narrowing as he inspected her hands up, showing to him she was harmless and unarmed. Taking in the gun laying on the ground a few feet from her, he stepped out a little more, though still not lowering his own weapon.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice low. She swallowed again, eyeing the sharp blade of his sword.

"My name's Lexi."

"Are you alone?"

She nodded. "I travel by myself. And I don't have an encampment or company that I go back to, if that's what you mean. Lone wolf, ya know?" She gave a little grin, a sad attempt at humor. He said nothing. inspecting her equipment and the knife on her hip. "Umm…what about you?"

He didn't bother to answer, but the tip of his sword lowered a few inches. It seemed he was beginning to trust her, just a little bit. Or, just thought that she wasn't much of a threat. Then, deciding something, he reached behind him and slid the blade back into its sheath, standing up fully. Lexi lowered her hands, still making sure to keep her right away away from the knife.

"How did you get in here? I watched the entrance for awhile and never saw you enter."

He glanced to the side, and she followed his gaze. There was an open window, with a fire escape landing right outside. Her confusion cleared, and she turned back to him. "The roof?"

He nodded silently.

"What's your name? You know mine but I don't know yours." He seemed to regard her for a moment before responding.

"Law."

"Well, a pleasure to meet you."

They stood in silence after that, neither one quite sure what to do or say next. Lexi glanced down at the floor, where her discarded weapon lay. "Can I pick that back up?" She pointed to the gun, and he simultaneously pulled his sword free again.

She only stared, waiting for some confirmation from him. Finally, seeming to trust her not to go shooting up the place at the very least, he nodded, watching intently as she lowered herself to pick it up. Careful to keep the barrel away from him, she slung it over her shoulder again, holding up her hands in surrender after, just to make sure he knew she intended no harm.

He sighed deeply, returning his own weapon to the sheath on his back. He kept his back away from her but returned to searching the cabinet he'd been working on when she came in.

"I've cleared most of this apartment, so I'll be on my way soon." He commented, inspecting a can of something from within, finally grabbing his bag and stuffing it inside. Lexi nodded, wandering over to the living room and looking around idly. There were a few picture frames of the previous owners. A mother and her children smiling with their faces pressed together. A wedding photo of the same woman, standing in her white dress beside her suit-wearing husband. They looked happy.

"Are you alone, too?" Lexi asked quietly, and Law paused what he was doing to glance at her. It was a long pause, and she almost thought he wouldn't answer. This didn't surprise her, seeing as he was even more untrusting of people than she was. Perhaps that was the smarter idea.

"No." He finally said, tossing away a useless empty can. "I have a small group."

"Have you ever travelled alone before?" She cocked her head, returning her attention to the black-haired man still rummaging through the cabinets. She thought about helping him search but eventually changed her mind, knowing he probably wouldn't be very comfortable with that, seeing as his trust in her was still about as far as he could throw her.

"Yes." He replied gruffly. She smiled, finding his voice pleasant.

"How different is it? Being in a group?" Her voice grew quiet, another glance at the picture frames. He stopped then, staring at her from the corner of his eyes. It seemed as though Law couldn't quite figure her out, but at least he seemed to be relaxing in her presence.

"It's a lot more responsibility." He eventually answered, checking the expiration date on a can of tomato soup. "More to scavenge, more people to feed, and the greater the risk of being spotted by those zombies."

"Those all sound like reasons not to be in a group." She smiled, crossing her arms. Lexi couldn't quite figure out Law either. So stern and quiet, hesitant to speak, as if saying anything at all could put him in danger. What did he think she'd do? Follow him back to his camp and murder them in their sleep? She pursed her lips, thinking that maybe that was exactly the reason.

"Even if they aren't blood, they're family." He replied, finished searching the cabinet and straightening from his crouch. Lexi nodded, though not entirely able to understand. Obviously those people, whoever they were, meant much to him, whereas Lexi never had that sort of bond with anyone besides her grandmother, and she'd died long before shit hit the fan.

"I see." She said finally, before finding another topic to talk about. "Well, what supplies are you looking for specifically?"

"Medicine, food, water, and blankets are my main priority." He turned to another cabinet, but found nothing. "One's been sick for awhile now." Law sighed sadly, as if he didn't expect the man to survive whatever illness he'd contracted. Lexi perked up, reaching for her bag.

"I found lots of stuff from the pharmacy downstairs. I can't really take it all and it sounds like you need it more than I do."

"Pharmacy?" He asked in confusion. She rummaged in the pack and walked over to the counter. At first he backed away, feeling unsafe with her so close. Then Law's eyes widened, watching as she set a couple bottles of antibiotics on the counter as well as a roll of bandages, a small container of hydrogen peroxide, and surgical tape.

"Oh, that's right. You came from the roof, so you probably didn't know. The bottom floor of this apartment is a drug store, maybe owned by whoever lived here." She shrugged, still searching the contents of her bag.

"I don't get sick very often and I've got more, so you can take these, really." She pushed them closer to him, snapping her backpack shut. Hesitantly, Law picked up one of the antibiotic containers and inspected the label. Then, with one more curious glance at her, he began shoving them into his own pack, a little of his concern edging off of his face.

"Thank you." He finally said, almost a whisper.

"I don't really have food or water to spare, but at least you can cross medicine off your list of stuff to find." She gave a little smile, then shrugged and backed away. It seemed that Law had finished searching this apartment, since he packed up his back and shrugged it back over his shoulder, pulling his sword from his sheath. Lexi stepped away, holding her hands up.

"Hey, you're not gonna rob me or kill me now, right? I've been nice, no need to resort to violence."

She blinked, seeing a small smirk light up his face, and he chuckled.

"While I may not trust you entirely, I'm not going to attack you, Lexi. Unless you give me a reason to. I'm checking the other apartment." With that, he stepped past her and walked out the front door, leaving her to jog behind him.

"Would you like some help?" She offered, standing beside him as they faced the other apartment door. He tried the knob, but it didn't open. He raised a brow.

"It would seem you are going to anyways, whether I want it or not." He stepped back, then brought up his foot and kicked in the door. It swung on its hinge, hitting the inside wall with a bang.

Inside, Lexi and Law saw two zombies, and at the sound of the door they turned and groaned loudly. Law stepped inside, facing the one nearest to him. Lexi was only a moment behind, drawing her knife from her hip and coming face to face with the other. She heard a sharp shing as his sword sliced the air, the thing's head falling to the floor with a thump.

Lexi's shuffled towards her with it's arms out, making to grab her but she sidestepped it and jabbed her knife in its skull, twisting to destroy the rotting brain inside. Its groan cut off midway, it crumpled to the floor with it's partner, finally lying still.

Wiping her blade on the couch, her gaze wandered over the floor, spotting the small razor blades littering the ground. Frowning, Lexi glanced at the zombies themselves, seeing evident slits in the wrists of the two they had just killed. The carpet beneath her feet was stained a dark red, two separate puddles bleeding into one. It was a sobering scene. She looked up, noticing that Law was watching her with a curious look. "What?" She asked, shrugging. He only shook his head, keeping his weapon drawn as they searched the rest of the rooms.

After several minutes it was evident that the two in the living room had been the only undead occupants, and they quickly put away their weapons. Law immediately went to the kitchen, while Lexi chose to hit the bedroom first.

The first thing she grabbed was the wool blanket crumpled in a ball at the foot of the bed, folding it so it didn't take up so much room. It was soft, and looked like it would be warm. Lexi already had one in her bag, so she'd give this one to Law. Next, her search took her to the closet. The bedroom had obviously belonged to a woman, if the tidiness and dresses hanging on the racks were anything to go by. She curiously looked them over, judging that whoever the woman was, she'd been a party girl. Half the dresses hanging were either skimpy, strapless, or no more than ribbons.

Lexi shook her head, moving onto the dresser. Perhaps there was a shirt or pants that would fit her, preferably a little more modest than the rest of her wardrobe so far. She glanced down at her own outfit, sniffing it with a grimace. It smelled about time for a change of clothes. Rummaging in the drawers, she held up a red, long-sleeved shirt, and some pants that looked likely to fit.

Unstrapping her knife holster and dropping the backpack on the bed, she shrugged out of her dirty, frayed blue shirt. It had lasted her a good month or so, but the edges of the sleeves and the collar were beginning to tear. The new red one was a button up, and she tossed it on. Tugging on the front and sleeves, she nodded, satisfied that it wasn't loose enough for one of the undead to grab on to, but not tight enough to limit movement.

Next she undid her pants and threw on the new ones, checking out how they made her butt look in the standup mirror that occupied one corner of the room. It was more of a habit than anything, but hey. It wasn't a crime to look good while surviving this hellhole. Grabbing another green shirt and pair of jeans to have as extra, she stuffed them in her bag.

She put her equipment back on and continued looking through the room. Under the bed was a pistol, and a box of 20 rounds. The nightstand had a flashlight on the top, and a box of cigarettes. Lexi didn't smoke but she wondered if Law or someone in his group did, so she picked them up. Opening the drawer in the little table, she stopped, staring at a little box it contained.

Glancing behind her, she picked up the box of condoms and shoved them in her bag, deciding that it was better to have them than not to. It was honestly the last thing on her mind nowadays, but…one never knew.

Double checking she hadn't missed anything, she gathered up the blanket and walked back to the kitchen, where Law was inspecting more cans of food and bottles of water. There was quite a few piled up on the counter.

"Wow, doesn't look like anyone's searched here before us." She said appreciatively. "I found these in the bedroom." She held up the blanket, setting it on the counter beside the food with the pack of cigarettes on top. He nodded silently, taking a moment to notice she was no longer wearing the same clothes as before, and she stuck a thumb to the hallway behind her. "I'm gonna check out the bathroom and that should be everything in here."

She turned and headed towards the door she'd seen before, grabbing her flashlight and shining it over the white sink. There was a half-used bottle of toothpaste, a toothbrush, and some mouthwash. Cringing, she picked up the tube of paste and the brush. It was disgusting but she couldn't afford to be particularly picky nowadays.

Above the sink was a medicine cabinet and she opened it, seeing very little in terms of useful supplies. A few empty bottles of prescription meds, a tylenol container with a few more left in it, and some acne cream. Everything but the empty bottles were thrown in her bag.

Giving the tub a routine check, she spotted nothing of use to her, or what she would assume to be useful for Law. Well, there was a bottle of body wash. Maybe he needed that. Grabbing it, she also picked up a roll of toilet paper besides the toilet, standing back up and heading towards the kitchen.

"Hey, Law. Do you need-" She stopped, not spotting him in the kitchen. "Law?" She frowned, looking around the living room but to seeing the man. Confused, she checked the bedroom but found no one. "Hmm." She hummed in disappointment. It seemed he had simply left, taken whatever supplies he needed and gone. It wasn't that surprising, really. He'd seem like the sort of person to just leave.

She returned to the kitchen, setting the body wash and toilet paper down, cocking her head when she saw three cans of food and two bottles of water sitting on the counter. The blanket she'd placed there before was gone, along with most of the supplies Law had been sorting through. Approaching the few left behind, she saw a piece of paper tucked under one of the cans and pulled it free. There was writing on it.

Take these, as payment for the medicine. Stay safe. -Law

She smiled, glancing up at the food and water he'd left behind for her. Folding up the note, she hesitated before shoving it in her bag alongside the supplies. A token to the memory of her chance meeting with the mysterious man. Her pack was considerably heavier than before she'd raided the pharmacy downstairs. And, she'd made a rather interesting acquaintance in the process.

Lexi looked through all of the cabinets in the kitchen just to be sure he hadn't left anything else for her. There was nothing, and she packed up her bag, zipping it tight and fastening the clasps. There wasn't much room left, and she felt comfortable to lay low for a day or so, keeping safe until she needed more supplies. Then, she'd begin scavenging again.

Deciding that Law's method of traveling by rooftop was a little safer than risking being spotted on the ground, she made her way back towards the other apartment where the fire escape was.

For as dangerous as it was, the city seemed to still hold a lot of valuable supplies. Lexi decided she'd stick around a while, just to get as much as she could out of it.

And maybe, just maybe, her path would cross with Law's once more.

Chapter 2 ->

#one piece #zombies #zombie au #trafalgar law #law #law x oc #oc #penguin #shachi #horror #blood and gore #mature #tragedy #post apocalyptic #romance #fanfic #fanfiction

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