Sugar Creek (Not Accepting)

My dear lady -tongue-!

Are you yet living?	100.0%	[ 6 ]
Total Votes:			[ 6 ]

[necrophagette]

The Game arrow {ゲーム理論}

This RPG is, specifically, for [Yuko Chan] and myself. You're welcome to lurk, but unless we know you and are convinced of your AWESOMENESS, nobody else can participate. There's probably gonna be violence and all kinds of horrible stuff, so lurk at your own risk. wink That aside, the basic premise is this:

In a AU (Alternative Universe) America, the country is run by magicians. To get into the Senate, or Congress (among other things) one has to demonstrate the ability to summon, or do basic magic or alchemy. (Think The Bartemaeus Trilogy or Jonathan Strange, for those of you who've read those lovely pieces of literature.) The nonmagical population, however, is often disregarded and neglected, demoted to the simple role of surfs and plebeians, unfit to consort with Magicians.

Basic day to day life, however, is much the same as it is here. Or at least it was, before the war started. ENTER WORLD WAR THREE and no, we don't care who we're fighting against because it's not actually important. What IS important is that a couple of our very disgruntled enemies got together and raised a plague of the undead all across America. It's like a more exciting version of bioterrorism, yeah? And with all this bad mojo came crawling the more vicious, flesh-hungry underbelly of the typically low-key faerie community. Kelpies/Noggels, Haugbui, Draugr, Nucklavees, Sirens/Lorelei, various breeds of Yōkai... you get the picture. A bunch of really scary horrible things that want to eat everybody.


Our story starts in a small Midwestern town in East Jesus Nowhere... Think a mixture of woods and creepy cornfields, and in the middle of it all: Sugar Creek, Michigan, (the town is fictional for those of you who were wondering) a small, non-magical college town with two colleges; the "prestigious", Sate College (Geared toward agriculture and engineering, and low-grade summoning and alchemy) and the Community College (geared toward art and also agriculture because there's pretty much nothing else out there but corn, blueberries and soybeans anyway.)

We're going to say that is fairly near the illustrious Great Lake Michigan because just IMAGINE ALL THE CREEPERS THAT THING COULD HOUSE. *twitches* So... that's the set up. There is the odd magician about, and the odd plebian who can summon a small demon or two... and then the people who are good at making friends with the nicer faeries (and you can bet your boots that I plan to have a Nacken come along to seduce everybody that moves). Empaths, low grade psychics who can sense ghosts and stuff, healers: they're all mixed in with the riff-raff if their powers aren't good enough to impress the higher-ups. However, they're all very, very helpful in this situation, and will be instrumental in aiding the regular people's survival.

arrow Sugar Creek Playlist exclaim

[necrophagette]

The Cast arrow {人}

MAIN CHARACTERS
BENJAMIN COOPER WHITE
BENJI
(introduction pg1)

WILLIAM MICHAEL BAIR
WILL (billy)
(introduction pg1)

SIDE CHARACTERS
THEODORE CALDARONE
THEO (teddy)
(introduction pg1)

KEITH OWEN
KEITH
(introduction pg1)

TOBY HASWELL
TOBY
(introduction pg1)

The Monsters arrow {妖怪}

ZOMBIES: The results of a viral and magical plague that turned American citizens into the walking dead, and, effectively, biological weapons. The virus they carry is transfered through saliva and blood; there is no cure once the host has died, and no practical cure once a person becomes a carrier. The window between contraction and death varies based on the severity of the wound they received upon transfer, the magical resistance in their bodies and their overall health. Nobody has survived for more than 3 days. Due to the magical nature of these creatures, they are all but impossible to destroy. Their bones will stay together long after their flesh has decayed; Walking skeletons are brittle and unable to transfer the virus, but still violent and driven.

[necrophagette]

-Reserved-

[necrophagette]

-Reserved-

[necrophagette]

We could party
Party in the graveyard tonight!
Don't you wanna party?
Party in the graveyard tonight!
Life is lame, so let me eat your BRAIN!

If you thought about it, it wasn't all the surprising how quickly things went wrong. It was like one minute, he was in his dorm room listening to MSI loud enough to make his ears bleed, and the next... everyone was dead. It all happened in like three or four days, not long enough for him to take it seriously; not long enough for anybody to see it coming. At least, not among the Amagiko. "Amagiko" was the Greek classification for those without the use of magic; the word always made Benji prickle a little with indignation, though he was never quite sure why.

Whatever was going on in the outside world, Benji was sure that all those god damned politicians and bureaucrats were safely tucked away somewhere out of the country, in those heavily protected, expensive fortresses that only those privileged with an abundance of magical energy and the proper lineage could afford to live in. As it was, nobody in Sugar Creek knew details about the strange plague that was causing violent riots in New York until the doctor's office was jammed with coughing, itchy Amagiko who couldn't quite curb their growing, intense infatuation with raw meat. Benji's little sister had been in the growing que for three days (no appointments, the flustered secretary at the family doctor's had insisted). He guessed she was in the middle of it, when it all just finally fell apart.

Benji hadn't heard from anybody in his family, and he was starting to wonder if he actually cared or not. He knew he was supposed to, but the more he thought about it, the less he could really see it making a difference in his life. He'd never really gotten on particularly well with anybody in his family, and though he couldn't say he wanted any of them dead, he couldn't really bring himself to mourn them now that he was pretty sure they'd all been killed. He was probably just in shock.

He hated himself for staying in this stupid town. If he'd just moved out west like he'd planned, gone to California, or Arizona, or Texas or Washington, he wouldn't be here right now. And maybe out there, they'd figure out what was going on in time to do something about it besides just sitting around and constructing eulogies for all the people that you'd never see walking with a heartbeat again. Benji had taken to chewing on his lower lip and nail of his right thumb in his idleness. Of course, he'd stayed because his mother had wanted him to. ********.

And, of course, he'd stayed because of Will. But the truth was, they really could have gone anywhere if they'd wanted to, but they'd stayed in Sugar Creek, and so had their friends. Theo, by far the most successful and well-bread, argued it wasn't all that bad there anyway, and the Sate College was quite nice. Theodore was from the kind of small town money that bought his way into summoning lessons, but couldn't quite get him out of the town, not that Theo really wanted to get away. He, unlike Benji, didn't have lofty aspirations of moving to California to become an artist-- to become anything, anyone, just to get away from being a country boy. Then again, Theo loved his family. Theo didn't really have anything to run away from.

Cynical and cruel as Benji could be, he had a few select favorites among his peers, and Theo was pretty much at the top, though Benji was sure that if they hadn't grown up together it never would have worked. Theo was smart and generous, though never pretentious or elitist, and though he was often an invaluable source of good ideas, he wasn't pushy about them. He was valuable to Benji, and he liked having him around.


So it's August; school was starting and Theo had invited Benji to a party. A Frat party. Even though Benji is a community college kid, he's feisty and just dirty enough to look like somebody sexy and important. He gets invited to high-end Frat parties without hesitation. Sure, Theo had a huge hand in getting him on the list, but Benji was positive that he could crash any party, Theo's help or no. What Theo's invitation really did was allow Benji to bring along his posse: Will, Keith, and Toby had all been part of a select group since first grade, and even though some of their other members had gone off to Chicago or New York or even Kalamazoo, the five of them had stayed in Sugar Creek. Toby went to the University with Theo, and the rest of them went to Community College, and the five of them still got ******** up every time they could manage it.

The party, as Theo had explained to Benji via cellphone as Benji and Will took a rather bohemian breakfast of coffee and fresh croissants on the patio of one of the only bakeries in town, was to mourn the last few days of summer before the fall semester started. Benji briefly argued the relevance of this cause when it was that Theo had gladly participated in several summer courses, but was easily swayed when kegs and girls were mentioned.

Kind of ironic, he thought now, that his unhesitant eagerness to dive into irresponsibility might have saved his life. And his friends'... not his family's though. No big surprise there; he'd always let them down. When everything went to s**t that night, when the magic of the virus woke up inside it's weakening, fevered carriers, Benji was unconscious, sleeping behind a plush, leather couch, and when he woke up, he was in the middle of a lock down. At first he didn't think much of the silence; he wasn't really up to thinking about noise just then. It wasn't until he got downstairs and saw a small, intense knot of boys in the middle of the living room, carefully and quietly constructing and pasting charms and seals that he knew something was wrong.

He was packed into an oversized easy chair, sandwiched comfortably against Will, while Keith and Toby leaned sleepily against the arm rests as Theo explained the situation. Though everybody in the house was, for the most part, an Amagiko, because of the nature of the house and it's residents, almost all knew very basic summoning. Some knew charms and still others knew alchemy. That night, when sickly loved ones began to literally bite the hands that fed them, the brothers had grabbed all the people they could from off the streets, and when it became apparent that physical barricades would do little to prevent this surging, voracious magic, they sealed the house.

Theo wasn't sure how long they could actually stay there, but nobody knew if it was safe to go out. Best wait, they decided, for the government to help. Surely they would help. Surely somebody would help.


Benji felt pretty useless after that, the seams of his jeans rubbing painfully against slept-in pressure points on his hips and thighs, his hair askew and his sunglasses snug against his dry, sore eyes. He was hungover and terrified and hungry on top of it, dizzy with dehydration and lack of sleep, and he knew for certain that the only reason he was alive at all was because of Theo, and his friends. But how many other people had survived this sudden siege? How many amagiko could hope to withstand the sort of force Theo had hesitantly described to them without what little magical assistance an expensive college education could offer?

On his way to the bathroom, Benji counted about six girls, four of which were huddled in one of the bedrooms, their gentle sobs drifting through the open door as they all tried to get a hold of their families on cellphones that didn't work anymore. Theo had mentioned that; everything had lost signal; there was no radio, no satellite anything, no cell reception. They had cable internet, though, and for whatever reason, that still worked.

After about 20 minutes on the bathroom floor, Benji gave up and crawled into the bathtub. He had the strange feeling that nothing was quite real anymore, and that if he did it properly, it could all just be slept off. Like the memory of a horror movie.

[designer droogs]

It figured that something like this would happen to William Bair. He had spent the better half of his life just worrying, fidgeting, and waiting for such a day to come. With propaganda books and duct tape, he would add to his list of minor phobias until someone would talk him down, forcing him to find some new conspiracy or so called 'delusion' to fret over. As if perhaps if he worried enough, the sky would never fall.

Somehow, it still did.

It went without saying that Will wouldn't have taken the such an event well no matter his condition. When a person who spent so much time panicking over everyday life was faced with a true crisis, the outcome could never be good. A benefit to the others, in some twisted fashion, the neurotic blonde had managed to shut himself down before he was able to send himself into an immediate cardiac arrest, compliments of the white lines and Dixie cups consumed prior to the panic. With his serotonin levels shot and skull splitting, there was little he could do but pass this off as some inconvenient nightmare. An omen, at most. Though, as he sat there, waiting for the dream to fade as he longed for a cup of coffee and an orange, he listened to the hushed, worried noises around him and began to sober.

[********]

This wasn't a dream. It wasn't clear when he had dosed off again exactly, or how he had even managed to, but clips of the early morning's actions fell into place. Theo explaining something dark and bleak and far too real, faces with no names, charms and seals and fear...little pictures running slowly through his mind. It was around this point that Will's heart began to beat again, or atleast, hard enough to feel it, as if his inability to feel it racing against his ribcage was something akin to it stopping all together.

"Benji...ung..." he sat up a bit too fast from the hard floor, his head spinning sickly as he winced, giving it a few moments before he gained the courage to wobble upwards, swaying to his feet. He leaned against the wall to steady himself, though it did little. The thoughts of locating his friend were soon replaced with a dire need to locate the bathroom, avoiding bottles and bodies on his way there.

Dirty blonde hair stuck to Will's clammy forehead as he washed the bitter taste of vomit from his mouth, the faint noise of the toilet running behind him. He tried at some point splashing water onto his face, not doing anything to adjust the effects of his hangover. It was then that something caught his chocolate gaze, hidden in the corner of the mirror, a hazy contrast of shadow within the white of the bathtub. His eyes widened, breath hitched, a common shiver running through his nerves. So was this how he was going to die? Hungover and spent...and...wait. "God damnit!" his hissed, twisting around to pull at the shower curtain, peering into the ivory tub, his cranky fit of anger faltering at the seemingly unconscious body he found there. His words settled then into a muted whisper, only to himself, "B-Benji?" At least he wouldn't have to worry about finding him now...

Even now, knowing that nothing was lurking in the shower, waiting to pounce, Will stop his heart, nor nerves. It didn't change the fact that he was going to die, that so many people had already been killed. And he couldn't even comfort himself that they were just strangers, for there was a good chance they were people he knew, even loved. Just because there wasn't something in the bathtub, didn't mean that there weren't things right outside the walls of the house, killing and waiting. It wasn't clear at what point his a** had hit the floor, nor when it was that he had curled himself into a pathetic ball against the wall. But the bathroom floor was cold and he was shaking, and as much as he wanted to escape this frat house for an ounce of fresh air and sanity, he knew that there was no way in hell that he would make it out there alive.

[necrophagette]

'Cause I'm sick of waking up on your floor
For the 6th or 7th night in a row
I'm lying next to you in all of my clothes
Someone stop me...

It seemed as though, hangover or no, some part of Benji's body was still looking out for him, because as the little plastic shower curtain hangers clicked over the extendable plastic rod above him, Benji stirred and opened one bleary eye to find his face pressed against the textured matting at the bottom of the tub. "--The hell...?" He mumbled, pushing himself up slowly, not quite sure what he was doing in the bathtub again... Again? Had he left, or only dreamed it? Or was he dreaming now? No, he wasn't dreaming; he was too poignently hungry and ill at ease to be asleep. And his neck hurt. He tilted his head to the side to stretch his aching vertebrae and discovered Will shivering in the corner, his agitation irritating at so early an hour. Or at whatever sort of hour it was.

"What time is it?" Benji grumbled, automatically making small talk, even though he didn't really think that knowing what time it was would make him feel better or have any positive impact on his life at all whatsoever... It was just one of those things you asked. But more importantly, he thought, why was Will in there with him? Because despite the imprint of the bathmat on his face and his sore neck and shoulder, Benji was seriously considering going back to sleep, seriously considering hibernation at this point, though he couldn't quite figure out why he was so upset. "And what do you want?"

[designer droogs]

Will struggled for a moment to try and understand the noises coming from the bath, flinching further into himself as he heard a voice, quiet, though far too familiar to be anything relatively fiendish. He had not been expecting the sound for quite some while, figuring the other wouldn't have come around anytime soon. Tentatively, the blonde raised his head to look to Benji, eyes weary if not a bit red due to a combination of exhaustion and substance, along with perhaps a few tears, even if he would never admit to it. He did his best to calm his breaths and tremors, along with his thoughts in an effort to pay attention to his friend, not that it helped or anything.

Time. The world was ending and Benji was asking what time it was. Did he not realize? They had no time left, there was no point in keeping track of something you had nothing of. Nevertheless, the boy unfolded to fish out his phone from his worn, fitted jeans, arms and legs coming undone like some ancient note, long ago pressed and forgotten in the pages of some heavy book. "I-it's one-fourteen," he muttered, struggling to read off of the useless gadget as it shook in his grip. Although it had never done him any good in the sense of reliance, he knew there would be no use attempting to dial any numbers now. 'No Service' blinked brightly across the front screen, almost cheerily. It made his empty stomach turn, and he briefly wondered if he had really managed to vomit everything up on his first round. He clarified the statement as he looked back up, his voice straining in this far too casual conversation, "PM."

It struck Will then that there was a good chance that his groggy friend in fact had no recollection at all of what had happened. He stared at Benji blankly, shaking his head, "What do I want? I don't know. Living might be nice." He laughed then, almost bitterly, a sarcastic chuckle brewing in his panic, "Y-you know, it figures that you'd sleep through an apocalypse, Benji."

[necrophagette]

Born to multiply,
Born to gaze into night skies,
All you want is one more Saturday.

Benji grumbled something unfriendly and humorless as he slumped back into the bathtub, heavy with recollection as he remembered why, ultimately, going into a coma seemed like such a good idea. "Don't ******** shout at me," he told the textured plastic at the bottom of the tub moodily. God, he wasn't prepared for this. He was hungover and tired, and nothing was going right. His little sister was dead, and he was stuck in a house full of a bunch of high-class frat assholes... He quickly retracted the venomous thought, recalling that those frat assholes were the reason he was still alive. He sat back up, a little too quickly, and as a wave of disorientation and nausea washed over him, he had to grab onto the side of the tub to keep from collapsing. Did he mention nothing was going right?

Best put his best foot forward."How long hav-" He started to say, how long was I asleep, but dismissed the question, mid-sentence, in favor of something that Will might react more favorably to, like, Is Theo okay? or Did anything happen while I was passed out? but realized that if anything had happened that was worth his attention, he'd know already. So instead he sat there, blinking his empty eyes at Will for a few seconds, thinking how dry they were, how much he needed water, was the water still okay to drink? before his gaze focused on the trembling boy in front of him. In the unfriendly light of the open door, Benji's focus and racing thoughts slowly collected around Will. There is no way he's dealing with this, Benji thought. And I can't take care of him if cracks. Not in the middle of all this, anyway; he wasn't sure he could even take care of himself, under the circumstances.

He thought about asking if Will was alright, about crawling out of the tub and putting a manly hand on his knee and saying, "Billy, we've got to put our game face on," or something stupid and cliché like that, but knew it wouldn't help. Instead, Benji did what he knew how to do: he drew focus to an immediate, solvable problem and away from the monstrous intensity of this overarching ill that had so suddenly become their lives. It was incomprehensible, really. This was America! Things like this just didn't happen, right? Well, ******** it.

"Hey," he said gently, trying to ease Will into some kind of functional calm; "I need water, man. Let's go find Theo and see if it's safe to drink tap still." It was a reasonable concern, after all, considering that it was -biological warfare- that had brought this upon them. Benji didn't know how the hell whatever it was that had caused this evil spread before it had killed and possessed all it's hosts, but he wasn't going to be taking any pointless chances until he knew for sure.

[designer droogs]

Will frowned, trying to decipher how terrible the need was that he should move from the comfort of his little corner. Not that the cold tile or hard wall was very comfortable at all, his fear stifling his sanity the more he brooded over their predicament there. It was just the fact he knew where he was here. Outside of the cramped bathroom, the house was thrown in such a disarray of strangers and after-party scents and sights, along with the terrible confusion and fright that thickened in the air. He knew none of that, even on a normal day, would set him at ease. Though, as things were, he had a feeling the days of ease were long gone.

"...Okay. G-good plan." He forced his limbs to move, using the wall for support as he got to his feet. Benji's statement had sent some curiosity into Will's mind, and as he had little to lose anymore, he figured there was no reason not to go along with his dark haired friend to seek the answer to the current safety of their water source. A distraction. Plus, he'd rather be with Benji than alone here. Although the other put him on edge, atleast it was something a bit familiar through all of this insanity.

[necrophagette]

I dreamed that the world was crumbling down
We sat on my back porch and watched it
I dreamed that the buildings all fell down
We sat on my back porch and watched it

Benji sighed without taking his eyes off the other boy, and willed himself to get up. It wasn't easy either; his whole body felt cramped and tense, bruised and sore, and his agitation and lack of any sort of deep, renewing sleep was more than even his relatively healthy and young body could take without showing. "Okay," he breathed, pushing himself up with both his arms and legs and immediately reaching for the sink to steady himself. If it had been anybody but Will, Billy, really, he probably would have tried to suck it up and jump out of the tub like nothing was wrong, like he could kick anybody's a** if they even suggested he wasn't feeling up to it, but he knew Will knew him better than that, and he knew Will well enough to trust him with almost anything he ever felt like sharing. And right now, he needed to take it easy on himself.

He carefully made his way over to the other boy, but on the way past, he deftly slid his arm under Billy's left and hooked his hand up over his right shoulder, effectively collecting him physically and, hopefully, mentally. "Now where the hell are my sunglasses," Benji mumbled, patting his pockets thoughtlessly with his free hand and eventually finding his glasses, amazingly, still hooked to his shirt collar. "What do you know," he said, almost cheerfully, "something's going right after all. Now where the hell is the kitchen?"

[designer droogs]

Will couldn't even bring himself to roll his eyes at Benji's remarkable ability to find his misplaced glasses which were, as usual, never too far from home. By the way he was currently perceiving things, the blonde was actually quite sure that there would be a slim chance of him moving his feet if he weren't being dragged along side the other. Currently, his mind seemed to be in the process of locking down, much like this house, this cage of an estate they were now kept in, to keep himself safe. As if turning his mind off now, would keep him from breaking all together. Some form of self-defense, an instinct as useful as the spastic fainting-goat held. Rather than deal with the danger, whatever the potential predator was, play dead; keep yourself sane by shutting yourself down.

However, Benji was making such a task difficult, pulling him back to reality as if he was winding in a string attached to his consciousness. "Over here I-I think..." Will mumbled, directing the other down the corridor and through the room he had woken up in. They moved past the bodies, a few more conscious now than he had remembered. This fact made it easier to navigate the house, not having to step over so many exhausted forms on their way to the kitchen. However, those who were alert did no good for Will's current state as he picked up far too easily on their fear, some hiding it better than others. It only fed his own.

[necrophagette]

I don't want your heart
I want your liver;
Lord knows that your heart
ain't worth a dime.

They made their clumsy way downstairs, and Benji was actually pretty excited that he made it all the way down the flight without tripping and cracking open his skull or anything, and stumbled off into the living room, which was still a hive of activity. Benji wanted to throw up all over everybody, but he was pretty sure it could be considered impolite and unhelpful. Instead he held his breath, which helped steady his churning stomach, and squinted through his dark glasses to find somebody to talk to.

It wasn't long before he and Will spotted Keith and Theo talking quietly in the corner, out of the way, which is exactly where Benji wanted to be. He quickly threaded through the activity, dragging Will along by the wrist, and pulled the other boy up next to him when they stopped to talk to Theo. "Hey," he grunted, his voice more hoarse than he'd anticipated it being. Theo and Keith nodded in response, and the previously unseen Toby, who was sitting against the wall at Theo's feet, grunted back.

"I was wondering where the hell you two had got off to," Theo said in the manner of somebody who is used to losing his two best friends more often than not. "You guys look like s**t."

"I know all about it," Benji sighed, not wanting to dwell on it, but feeling secretly very cool all the same, "and I feel even worse. But listen, I need water." He glanced at Will. "We need water. I know it might be weird, but tap's still okay, right?"

There was a short, thoughtful pause; Theo opened his mouth, then frowned, then glanced at Keith and frowned some more. "You know what?" he said, his eyes unfocusing as he pondered, "I really don't know. Let me go talk to somebody." And with that, he departed, leaving Keith to stare after him, looking a little confused. Keith was usually confused, though, Benji noted unsympathetically. Still, he felt a little weird just standing there, trying to ignore people chanting and drawing; it was like a freaky cult arts and crafts meeting.

"So," he said, turning to Keith and Toby, "what are we... doing? Is there some kind of awesome plan that I should be contributing to?" He sincerely hoped there was; he was fairly certain that doing something to help would be the only way to keep sane in this situation, as he stood there, surrounded by mumbling figures filling the air with the sent of rice paper and thick, dark ink on calligraphy brushes. And outside, he reminded himself, is my family. And a town full of the walking dead.

Of course Toby was the one to answer. "I don't think so man," he said, sounding exhausted, and maybe a little like he wanted to cry. Benji noted he avoided looking directly at anybody, and decided not to push it. "We're doing everything we can right now, and even if you weren't still ******** up, you don't know any magick. And not that that's a bad thing, dude, but it's the only thing that will stop them so far."

Great. Just what Benji didn't want to hear. He turned to Will and gave him a serious buisness face before looking back at Toby and saying, his voice slightly harsher than he intended, "So we just have to sit here. While everybody is working to save our asses, we're just gonna chill and ********' take it easy or whatever, right?"

It must have been something in his voice, but Toby glanced up, looking like a scared little kid; his cheeks, nose and eyes were all glowing pink, a sure sign of restrained emotion, but Benji wasn't really the sympathetic type. "Dude," Keith interjected, before anybody could start brawling, "Chill out. None of us feel up to dealing with this s**t, so just calm down, alright? I can't do anything either, man, and it sucks, I know. But seriously, get some water or whatever when Theo gets back and just go back upstairs."

[******** you I'm going back upstairs," Benji snarled, palming Keith, who was bigger, hard in the chest, though his fist barely had any impact on the other boy. "Don't tell-"

"Do you even have any idea what's going on outside?" Toby said suddenly. Benji glanced to Will uncertainly, then returned his stony gaze to the other boys. Toby pushed himself up from the floor, and pulled Keith to the side so he could glare at Benji and Will. Toby wasn't usually like this, Benji found himself thinking in some detached, serene part of his head. He'd never stood up to anybody in his life; it was why he followed Benji around, after all, because Benji could do it for him.

"Yeah," Benji said after the buzzing mismatched chanting that filled the silence between the four of them started getting on his nerves. "I know." Of course he ******** knew; Toby had BEEN there when Theo was telling all four of them.

"Come here," Toby said, pushing past Keith and skirting around the busy center of the living room to the stairs. Benji had to push his glasses down his nose to give Keith a dirty look before he nodded to Will and followed after Toby, big, annoyed Keith bringing up the rear with scruffy, kicked-puppy face. Benji was hesitant to follow this (according to him) slightly deranged Toby when he started up the stairs, partially because he'd just come from there, damnit, and he was too tired to try and mount them again, and partially because he didn't really trust Keith or Toby anymore. Benji's loyalties were easily lost.

The three of them paused at the foot of the stair, traffic jamming against Benji's stubbornly still frame as Toby marched upstairs heedlessly, pausing only when he got to the large, open landing to look down ferociously at the three of them. Benji didn't tolerate ferocious looks from anybody. Not after dealing with his father for so long. "What the hell do you want me to do up there," Benji shouted, his volume control a little faulty, though he attributed this to his constricting throat and his fluttering heart. He glanced over his shoulder at all the people that were looking at him, and gave them the finger.

[******** you," Keith hissed, grabbing Benji's fist and slamming it back against his side. Benji, who realized a moment too late that it wasn't particularly wise to insult the people that were slaving away at saving his life, decided to let Keith's boldness slide, considering it really was in everybody's best interest. He turned his attention back to Toby instead. "Seriously, what do you want. I'm not going back up those stairs when I just got down here," he explained in his best inside-voice.

"Just come look out the window. Please," Toby said softly, almost pleading, which put him back in Benji's good books almost immediately. Benji liked it when people had to beg for him to do things.

[designer droogs]

All of this plain asperity and bitterness was really beginning to wear on Will's already worn mind. It really wasn't anything new, the fickle, often harmless tiffs that came about with his friends, Benji often somewhere in the middle of it all. Often times, Will would allow himself to let it go without getting too involved and if he did, whether it be flight or fight - so be it. He had grown oddly immune to his friends throughout the years, allowing for a rather uncharacteristic laid-back outlook when it came to dealing with their attitudes. After all, if they were able to put up with him, he should at least try and do the same for them. Yet, at a time like this, with his head spiraling in the fashion it was, the blonde found himself growing more and more aggravated with it all by the minute, his patience wearing thin as he was held up at the staircase behind Benji, his tired face pulling down into a scowl.

"Benji, just-" his harsh, somewhat throaty tone caught the boy off guard, and he immediately tried to soften it, glance hopping from Benji to Keith beside him, as if he was trying to judge the others' stability, growing more ill at ease with each passing second as he stood at the foot of the stairs. He pressed a hand lightly against Benji's back, pushing him lightly, as if doing so too directly was some sort of death wish. “Just please, move. I-I wanna see…”

Okay, so it wasn’t really that he wanted to see. ********, it was probably a whole lot better if he didn’t. His imagination could at least be proved fictional, but this – this was all fact. Yet, if it was going to make Toby feel a bit better if they were to actually see what this…this war-spawned epidemic, this apocalypse was, it was worth it. Who knew how long they would be here? They shouldn’t already be picking fights, right? It was too early for cabin fever. Plus, if it was considered morose to actually want to see your fate, then yeah, Will could be a bit morbidly curious.