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 Posted: Sun Jun 25, 2017 6:56 pm
[Post apocalyptic Canada] No one could really agree on when the fall had started, or what exactly had been the cause. Some said it was the war, that the nuclear arms had been the catalyst. Other's said it had started long before that, with the depletion of resources, and the demand that had sparked the conflict. Regardless of what, the results had been the same across the world. Most of the humans had survived the initial explosions that had rocked the globe, but with the majority of the crops and live stock gone, well, it was only a matter of time. And then, of course, there was the Blight. As if starvation hadn't been enough of an epidemic. As the first infected began to show symptoms there had been a panic, a race to use what little resources were left to them, but it was too little, too late. There just hadn't been enough time. What was left of humanity now fought for what little they could find. Except for a few lonesome individuals claimed by no pack. By choice or by exile. He didn't care, he didn't want to belong, didn't need it. It was easier on his own, away from rules, and morality. Away from anyone he stood a chance of getting attached to. It hadn't always been like that. In the beginning he'd had a family, a wife and a daughter, but the Blight had taken Tabitha in the first wave of infection, and Harley hadn't survived long after that. Zeke suspected it had been a broken heart that had taken her, but that had been years ago. It didn't matter anymore, not now. It was easy to believe that when he sought solace in the bottom of a bottle. Mainstream liquor was a thing o the past, but every outpost brewed or fermented their own. It was good business, and Zeke certainly appreciated it. Everything was seen through a haze now. Senses dulled and mind numb. It helped him forget. He could never forget. It made things bearable. Just barely. He honestly didn't know anymore why he kept going. There was nothing left for him here. No family, no friends, no connections of any kind. Why did he continue to fight to live, what was the point? "Aw s**t..." Had he just reached the end of his last bottle?
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Posted: Sun Jun 25, 2017 8:47 pm
Ever’d been on the road for the better part of three months: living hard enough to strip any meat from his bones, to leave him gaunt in the cheeks and rangy under the half dozen worn layers he’d wrapped around himself. His hair had gone long and wild, curling out from under the hem of a battered knit cap, hand-knitted by someone who only kind of knew how to knit. His face was wind-chapped and sore, the tip of his nose gone pink and peeling. All said and done, he was not an impressive figure, hesitating just inside the doorway of the outpost with the pack heaving on his back and his expression, for just a moment, puzzled. Thoughtful. Taking this place in. He hadn’t been to this particular stopping point in longer than three months; more like a year and a half, hopefully long enough for people to forget him, for trouble to make its way out of here and into a new town. Inside it was warm enough he could drop his scarf and the edge of his cap clean, could draw in a full breath for the first time in ages, could close his eyes and count to ten. Then, slowly, with a sideways look to the other patrons, he heaved the pack back up onto his back and moved in farther, rolling his shoulders under advancing slowly toward the front. His expression and the weight of whatever he was carrying made his intention clear: Ever was there to do some trade.
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2017 4:17 pm
There was a loud rattling as the bottle Zeke had been holding was clumsily set on the table, only for it to fall over and roll threateningly towards the edge. The man managed to catch it as it fell, barely, and instead of trying to set it down again he just brought it with him as he got to his feet and slouched towards the bar. "Hey, another." It was demanding, half slurred, and he didn't seem to notice the trader that had entered until he'd almost run right into him. Jerking to avoid the collision would throw him off balance, and in a bid to stay on his feet Zeke tossed an arm across a pair of thin, heavily burdened shoulders, adding his bulk to that of the over full pack. "Nice catch."
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2017 6:20 pm
The added weight of Zeke against his shoulder, slumped into his side, set Ever momentarily off-balance -- it meant that he almost didn't catch the man, and there was just a brief delay before his arm looped around Zeke's waist. Dark eyes flicked up and around the place uncertainly, considering just what to do with him now. "I think maybe you don't need another one." But it was dry, a little bit teasing, without any real bite. Ever started to draw him along toward the bar anyway, since that's where his business needed to be done.
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2017 6:28 pm
Zeke snorted, letting the other man support him as they navigated towards the bar and the unamused looking bartender that stood behind it eyeing the both of them impatiently, thought it was a fair bet her sour mood had very little to do with Ever himself. "I think maybe that isn't any of your ******** business." It was haughty, just a little defensive, but mostly he sounded like he just didn't give a s**t. He didn't need the blonde's help(he told himself), and if that offended him enough to dump Zeke on his a**, he was confident he'd make it there himself with only minor difficulty.
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Posted: Tue Jun 27, 2017 10:14 am
"Maybe not." The good news was that Ever didn't dump him on his a**. Instead, he hauled him along up toward the bar with that companionable arm around his waist, to prop him against it for support. The bad news was that he had nimble fingers, that wandered into Zeke's pocket while they walked to lift whatever he he had and disappear it into Ever's own half dozen layers. He didn't look as he did it. There was practice behind this. There was no one immediately available to help them, which meant they'd be left standing against the bar to wait.
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Posted: Tue Jun 27, 2017 6:12 pm
He'd sort of expected to be dropped, honestly, so when her wasn't he gave the man he was leaning on a curious, though slightly bleary stare. From a couple of inches away. None the wiser to the nimble fingers that were rooting through his pockets to pilfer whatever happened to be within. As the reached the bar the dark skinned man cracked a wide smile, though it slipped fairly quickly as he realized the bartender had made herself scarce. b***h. She'd be back, though. Until then, her had a new friend to keep him occupied. "Thanks for the lift."
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Posted: Tue Jun 27, 2017 7:23 pm
"I was heading this way." There was still that edge of mockery behind it -- but it was unclear who, exactly, he was teasing. It was more than possible that Ever was making fun of himself, though in the drunken stupor, Zeke might not be fully aware of that. He raised an eyebrow and finally dragged the pack off his back again to set it at his feet, breathing out a slow sigh of relief. He leaned in over the bar, adjusting layers and searching for the bartender -- or, if nothing else, someone else who worked at the outpost, who might be willing to do a little bit of barter. "Does anyone even work here?"
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