Immune

[✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Baby Hotline *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]

[ I will say, the starter was originally intended for @Rainy 's character Emma but, then again - not sure when Rainy'll get active on the thread again. (Just something to point out in the future so that no one gets stood up or anything like that, hm?) ]

. . . .
​

It wasn't as if Ernest could have seen it, but he felt something similar to it, regardless of not setting his sights upon it... Almost like someone was looking down on him.
But Ernest didn't care.
Gage could have done anything, thought anything, said anything, and Ernest still wouldn't have cared.

"...Mhm." ​

Sticking to Gage's side was the only thought on his mind, he'd all but completely forgotten that presence of the vehicle. Driving to a halt in front of them, and Ernest might not have noticed that either, had she not spoken. It's driver...He could feel his heart beginning to race once more. She had a car! They could get places faster, shelter themselves within it, and find other people much more easily. Survival meant being able to travel, being able to sleep safe - to live another day in wake.

"Y...Yes! You're - You're..."
​

Ernest...suddenly paled.
As reality took it's vile taste on his tongue, and a small shadow cast along his gaze. As he lowered his head, and felt...light headed. But not in a good way. Not in a good way at all. What had he been about to say? You're another survivor. ... His father, the only family that hadn't gone from within Ernest's reach. But abandoned him all the same, he felt a little dizzy. Like the world was caving in.

"...Dad."
​

The surge of hope and, dare he even assume it was happiness - pass as soon as they had come. And his hand slowly moves to the front of his jacket. Which, suddenly, he felt cold in once more. Holding onto the front of it's material, tightly. While somehow guiding his gaze up, towards the woman he stood near them. With her car and all, yet another beacon. But somehow, he can't stop looking stricken by fear. And silent panic.
He would heave once more, but his stomach was empty.

"...P...Please help,"
​

Please help us.

 

[Kurureenu_Yurasu]

Dustin walked, trekking through the masses of broken glass, unusable cars, and bodies that had tumbled helplessly out of the vehicles begging for help in the last moments of life that they had. The light of life was gone out of every person's still open eyes and the rise of breath gone from distant people that he hadn't even bothered. He stopped bothering to check for a pulse, knowing that every person that was here was gone. He wondered if he was the last one left. He got no calls from his brother, which he had hoped was alive. He tried calling his parents, too, but there was no answer. He felt alone, very alone. He wanted to sink into a vast despair and curl up somewhere dark. Dark enough to where the sun wouldn't reach him anymore.

Then he heard them. Voices. Voices of people that were still alive. Still breathing. Voices of people who didn't have the dullness of a taken soul in their eyes. It was a ways away, but it was easy to pick up the sound in the quiet that had surrounded him for quite sometime. He picked up pace, not knowing how much that he had truly wished he wasn't alone. He let his body go onto autopilot, going straight for where the voices sounded. He only slowed down, wondering why he was so surprised, when the individuals finally came into view.

Maybe he did truly think he was alone now.

He slowly approached them, listening to only the sounds of their voices and not the words they were speaking. When he got within earshot of the group, he couldn't help but voice his relief. "I'm glad that there are people who survived this mess," he sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. He forgot that he should be more professional in this situation. His badge was showing, but the dignity and official air of the officer had turned into the relief and pity of another survivor.

 

[malina]

Cheap porridge. Elaine had always hated the no brand oats she got for breakfast. Even when her mother had served the chunky paste with a rare "Good morning sweetie" or a "Have fun at school" she'd miss the bus trying to swallow each spoonful down. The porridge her mother had cooked up today - was it her mother? Elaine couldn't remember but her father never cooked - smelled especially rancid. A pulse beat in her head like a war drum, drowning out everything with a steady thump, thump, thump.

"Ohmygodfuck!"

Her words spilled out of her mouth along with the last of the porridge. Elaine cracked her eyes open only to shut them from the glaring ray of sun shining through the window. It illuminated the dust already accumulating in the room, millions of tiny little specks floating around. She smacked her mouth before uttering a weak exclamation of disgust, wrenching a handful of the blankets to scrub out her tongue. The smell was getting worse now, worsening her headache.

"Please open the door!! Please hear me!! Please, please I-"

Up until then, Elaine hadn't really paid attention to the thumping noise behind her. She'd assumed it'd come from her head, that she'd swallow some aspirin, that she'd sleep some more and let it all fade away but she'd never heard the frantic voice behind the door before . It didn't fit in with the rest of the voices in her head anyway - they made her ask for help. This one was doing the opposite. She scratched her head and headed for the door, sending the porridge sliding to the ground. Elaine stopped dead in her tracks then, looking at the chunky splotches on the ground. It mixed well with the red water on the floor.

It was then she knew that it'd been a dream. The "porridge" that her "mother" had dished out was none other than her own puke. Elaine gagged and threw up once more, forcing her stomach to relinquish what little food she forced down. She vomit more than she thought possible, more than what she'd eaten before finally gagging on nothing. Her throat and nose burned and strings of saliva dripped from her mouth. Unable to help the voice behind the door, Elaine heaved silently until it too, lost faith in her and left.

"Think about the water bill Jane." Curled up in fetal position, Elaine spoke numbly to her deceased roommate. "I don't know how long it's been running... I don't know the time. I don't know if I can cover it and you know how our landlord hates me already and you know how I don't have any other place to go and I know that I said I would help pay the bills. I know. I said that, I said that to you. This is a long shower, even for you isn't it?" She coughed. "So won't you turn off the shower Jane?" Even in her frantic and unaccepting state Elaine couldn't stop the memories from seeping in. She began to shake, an angry flush spreading across her face.

"Please turn off the shower." The sssh of the shower no longer seemed gentle, but a waterfall of noise. It was hot enough in the apartment room without the steam from the shower and Elaine didn't want any part of her to touch the bloody floor to open a window or two. "Jane, the shower!" Everything was getting to her head. "Why won't you listen to me?! Turn off the fucking shower! Turn it off! What the fuck! I know you aren't gonna pay for it turn it off you fucking fuck, you fuck just turn it off!" Elaine was faintly aware of her own surprise at her emotional outburst. Embarrassment was there as well, she knew the rant she'd yelled made no sense. Still, it felt good to be angry, to yell for once. It was as if everything she'd ever holed up inside was rushing out, like water out of a dam.

Punctuating each word with a punch to the mattress, Elaine rolled out of bed and slipped into the bathroom. She crashed onto the floor more than a couple of times but in her hazy mind registered none of the pain. Eventually the girl managed to turn off the water with shaky hands and just like that, like the sssh, her mind cleared and she deflated like a balloon. Elaine knew better than to look at Jane's body but the shame of her anger still pierced her like a knife. She slowly crawled back away, splashing through the mixture of blood and water until her back bumped the wall, letting her rest.

Her heart felt heavy, her body was restless and her mind a combination of the two. Elaine knew what to do, what she'd always done when in a troubled mood. Slowly she began sorting through her paraphernalia, taking out various pills and powders before deciding on using marijuana. A few minutes of dropping the rolling paper through her trembling fingers and a faulty lighter later, Elaine took her first drag before letting out a tremendous sigh. She violently scratched her head and stood up to look out the window. It took only a bit of strain to open them up to fume out the smell of death in the room. She added her own smoke to the Hell down below, watching it blow away in the wind. She was calmer now, reciting to herself to accept the events that had happened. The past was in the past.

Then a voice. And another. And another. Not talking about her, no they appeared to be comforting each other which was a sure sign that it was not happening in her head. Elaine's curiosity grew as she recognized the voice from earlier and she scanned the area below for their sources. She poked her head out, the wind making her brain feel fresh and anew (though it still felt numb from her breakdown). A boy, another boy and a girl all huddled together who Elaine thought to be dead had they not been sobbing. Then another man came up to them making four survivors in the new world.

Elaine smiled. She was not alone. They seemed like purpose minded individuals, unlike herself who had been holed up in her apartment this whole time. Unlike her they had the initiative to seek out others. Elaine took a pitying glance over to the bathroom. She would have done so well flashed through her mind before a more spiteful side of her wished for the death of her landlord. Still, it was almost exhilarating to have hope and Elaine found herself waving stupidly to the ground.

 

[Rainy]

Emma drove straight and fast down the road, her eyes blurry and and chin trembling with sobs. Her hair, which was tied messily into a bun, was falling out and surrounding her face, stuck to her cheeks in places that her tears fell. She was letting out loud, moaning sounds when she cried, before sucking in her breath, hiccuping painfully, and then starting the process over.

Suddenly a shape darted in front of the car and instinct and training kicked in, even through the emotional delirium that was Emma's mind. Her foot slammed on the brakes and she swerved to the right, the tires leaving dark, black streaks on the road. Emma's eyes shot wide. What the fuck was that? Wiping her eyes, she put the car in park and stumbled out of the car. She pushed her hair out of her face, smearing her tears across her cheeks.

"What the fuck are you doing in the road!?" She snapped angrily, furious that this was happening to her after so much had gone wrong already. The boy had a beet red face, shiny with tears and sweat. He was screaming at her to 'please help', 'oh please help"! Emma had her feet planted and hands clenched in fists, a defensive stance, too confused and rushed with adrenaline to understand the situation.

Before she could say anything more, a second boy ran over to the first and they enveloped one another in an emotional hug, crying into each other's shirts. Emma stared, half annoyed that the first boy had interrupted her, and half annoyed that the second boy had taken his attention. Suddenly a girl sprinted out and began sobbing too. What a bunch of freaks! Her brain alerted her to run but she stayed still, her curiosity getting the best of her. Suddenly a man joined the three, saying he was 'glad there were survivors' or something like that.

They were all blubbering and screaming and crying over each other. Emma's anger rose and rose before she snapped. "Will you all shut the fuck up!" She screeched, successfully gaining their attention. She was a wild-haired, red-cheeked, pint-sized time bomb. "My parents are dead, and from what I hear, so is everyone else. Are you all gonna sit here and hug each other or are we gonna find out what the fuck is going on?" Rather than making her unbearably sad, this whole situation was making her furious.

"Now I'm going across town, so whoever wants to stick with me and figure something.. anything out, get in."

 

[ernieselephants]

Gage liked the new girl's attitude and he got to his feet grinning. It was a sad awkward smile be felt like he had to appear friendly. He looked down at Ernest. "C'mon," he urged. "No use just sitting here."
Her anger somehow amused him.

(Sorry, replying late. I have to respond on my phone so typing takes awhile)

 

[Zeeami]

This went on for...what could of seemed like forever to Isaac. It was never ending, just like the pain he was feeling. It all just kept coming, kept taking shots at him-- one by one. He was slowly being beaten down by his own psyche, and he had no choice but to lay and take it, screaming himself hoarse as his eyes burned and his stomach churned in desperate attempts to empty it further, but was only met with dry heaving which hurt Isaac with each lurch. This was all he did until, eventually, he just...

Stopped.

Going still,

quiet,

numb.

Laying on his side, his gaze fixated on his lifeless kid sister. Hand extended to her face as his thumb gently stroked her pale, cold cheek. Making sure to wipe away any blood or tears that had dried onto her skin. The pain still clawed at him, deep inside, from there on out as it tried to escape once more but-- it was nothing more then an annoying sting at this point. For now, there was no more pain or grief to feel, to give. Isaac was drained dry of emotion, expression blank as his eyes-- red, puffy, along with his blood and tear stained face, showed nothing more then pure, utter exhaustion.

A young man, who, deep down, was nothing more then a scared boy, had everything taken from him in the span of an hour.

He had nothing left to give. Nothing left to lose.

And he was tired.

Part of him considered going back home, laying in his bed, and sleeping. Another considered just sleeping here on the ground, because he simply just didn't have the will to get up and move. Maybe if he went back to sleep, this would all end up being a dream. He would wake up in the real world, like in those movies. He would hear his parents hastily pacing through the hallways, collecting their belongings as they got themselves ready for word-- Louis would run into his room and jump on him, 'Get up, Issy! Mommy and daddy are leaving, and I need you to tie my shoes for me!' The sounds of a regular morning routine in his household.

...

It was a bullshit thing to even think. He wanted to kick himself for even thinking such absurd things.

For the longest time, he just...laid there. There wasn't anything else to do besides lay there. There was no point in anything else, hope was lost, the human race was gone-- if not entirely, it was only a matter of time. There's nothing left to fight for, to live for. It was over.

Right?

"..."

No, not right.

His life had crumbled and gone to shit, and in reality, he didn't believe there was anything else to live for.

But, if there was, it needed to be fought for.

And he intended on doing just that.

This wasn't who Isaac was, this wasn't who anyone saw him as. Isaac was a fighter, he was strong-- both will and physical power. Not the strongest, but strong enough to hold at least his own bit of ground.

He had his little emotional episode, now it was time to be a big boy.

Hesitating at first, he slowly moved his hand from Louis's face, standing up and-- brushing a bit of blood and dirt off of his arms. Unzipping his now blood stained grey hoodie, he wrapped it around his waist and tied it. Luckily, none of the red had seeped through onto his shirt. Red and white don't exactly mix, so he at least looked...somewhat less undead with that out of the way.

Looking down at his sister, he...considered a few options. He wasn't going to leave her in the middle of the road. Maybe he could...look for a shovel and, bury her? He didn't really wanna go around touching people and going inside of their contaminated households though. If he had the sickness, he didn't want to...speed up the process. He could always...uh...burn her, but, then that would put more of the sickness into the air, and then he was pretty much bound to breathe it in. There really wasn't much he could do without taking an unneeded risk of some sort, so, he knelt down and gently brought her small frame into his arms, looking over to the closest thing he could find which was just a little patio couch. Walking over, he placed her on it. Even if she was dead, her body could at least be given a little bit of care. He wasn't going to leave her to rot into the soil.

A gentle hand smoothing dark strands of hair out of her face, he leaned over and kissed her forehead for the last time.

Walking back over to the stuff he had left sprawl across the dirt, he picked his bag back up-- slinging it over his shoulder. Bat held at his side, the tip of it trailing along the dirt as he dragged it.

Standing there, he closed his eyes, head hung and pointed towards the ground as he took a moment to pray for everyone he knew and everyone he didn't. He spent some extra time on a special prayer for his family, wanting to make sure they were as comfortable as they could be in...whatever afterlife there was for them. He would find out what it is and what it's like eventually but, not now. And hopefully, not for a long time.

Continuing on his way, he walked down the road-- towards the town that he knew was a few miles down this way. He honestly doubted he would run into anyone living-- but, if he did or he didn't, it was a town. It would have useful things in it, supplies and such that could seriously help him down the line for his own survival. Either way, it was a beneficial situation from his standpoint.

 

[Lilpuff]

Yvette stopped crying for a second when the girl came up to them. Or, rather, she stopped gasping. She ran out of tears long earlier, so by then she was just sobbing for noise. She got to her feet, her red, unruly hair flying in her face and her jeans and tye-dye Ramones tank top were covered in dust and blood stains. Pulling her hair back out of her face, she glared at the girl, now more annoyed then sad. "Sorry if we are raining on your parade, but we all, including you I'm assuming, lost people important to us today. So I apologize if it annoys you that we took a few seconds to let our tears out." She glared for a few more seconds, then her face softened. "You are right though. No use just sitting here. We have to get somewhere safe." Yvette walked shakily over to the police officer, sniffing and wiping her sweaty face on her arm. "Sir, is there any chance you know of a place we can stay for a few days? I don't want to go back home, and I'm not sure anyone else does either."

 

[✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Baby Hotline *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]

[ Hey, you guys mind if we picked up @Zeeami 's character on the way? I'd like to have a way for them to string into this appropriately uwu ]

​

Home had only been a shelter. A cruel reminder of the past and of the present that he only stayed in for the stiff - unsteady foundation his mind could not grasp alone. In moments, a group of survivors had formed. Living, able bodied people. Two of them with a car; one of them was a police officer, even! The shouldn't couldn't have looked any brighter. Yet why could he only look so unmistakable pale and nervous? Anxious, even. When rays of Joy had all but radiated from his being minutes before. That one girl...A nameless, small woman. Who had the sharpest tongue for quite the mouth. Her anger was anything but amusing; it made him flinch, and it reminded him of something. It reminded him so damned accurately of his Father. Head-strong, but well orientated. Speaking his...h...her mind. And it made Ernest tremble. With shaking eyes; beneath the hood he tugged even further over them. ​

​

"I..." ​

​

Ernest didn't feel sorry. Ernest only felt a familiar sense of his own pathetic nature. Hollow eyes staring into the ground until Gage's voice spoke to him. A tall kid; a tall, supportive kid. That right then and there, made him recall how his Father used to have been. Until it had all went wrong; until Ernest had pushed too far, and his Father's breaking point had been reached. The very thought capturing the man in a stone-like state of immobility. Staring up at Gage; at his Heavenly, comforting smile. His stomach does another round of acrobatics. A memory taking control and losing it on what he saw. 'C'mon, Ernest...' ​

​

'No use just sitting around.'​

​

His father couldn't have spoken those words. Not those exact words. But somehow, Gage's voice makes him believe he could have. In some different life, where Ernest hadn't driven so many people - if not everyone away. In that same different life where his Father still loved him like the child he felt so desperately attuned to. Staring for only a moment longer, before Ernest reached forward. Giving a shaky nod. Quick. Eyes downcast; as he holds onto Whatever part of Gage that he can. Anything to grab, to pull himself onto his feet. Because obviously trying it alone would have failed him.​

​

Everything would have failed him if he even thought of doing it alone. ​

​

So he stumbled to his feet, trembling hands ( to which he did little to coax into stillness. ) loosely held into whatever Gage would consider his own sleeve. Ernest hadn't even bothered asking for the others condition. No need to check, no need to inquire. Because their survival wasn't his own survival. What a terribly selfish thing to think; terribly arrogant as well. Another silent, much more blunt part of himself - openly speaks of his own selfishness. ​

​

Why can't it just be the two of us...W...What if they hurt me? What if they leave I - No , - wait .... Please don't. Please don't. ​

​

Edging closing to the space behind Gage, and glancing towards another strong hearted woman who spoke against Emma; Yvette...Maybe. Maybe that's what his Mother would have looked like. Had she been home; had she ever been with them. Maybe she wouldn't have left him -- ​

​

His heart jumps. ​

​

Silently hoping he could ride in the woman's car. Gage at his side; and hopefully sleep without the worry of his own nightmares and self induced fear. ​

​

"..." ​

 

[Rainy]

Emma's eyebrows lowered in annoyance when the girl started to back-talk to her, telling her that she shouldn't be so impatient with grieving people. She closed her eyes, rolling them under her eyelids. She was used to girls snapping at her. She was outspoken, stubborn, and pretty. And people were jealous of that. People despised her for that. She learned to get over it pretty quickly. "Obviously." She muttered when the girl spoke about getting somewhere safe. Yvette then walked to a tall man who had been standing quietly next to the group. He stood importantly and looked sternly at the others. Yvette asked him about a safe place to stay and Emma spoke up before the police officer could answer.

"I'm headed to my brother's right now. We can stay at his place." She spoke up. The full weight of this situation wouldn't hit her until nightfall, when she had more time to think and less adrenaline pumping through her body. If he's still alive. Her brain reminded her, but she tried to not think of the possibilities. She thanked herself for keeping an extra key to his apartment in her glove box. "Whoever wants to sleep in a place that isn't full of their rotting loved ones can come with me. Now." She finally stated, stomping her foot and crossing her arms, glaring defensively at the rest, daring them to scold her again. She then spun and started back to her car.

This neighborhood was fairly calm, no dead bodies or car crashes. She wouldn't see the real devastation until she hit the main road.

 

[Kurureenu_Yurasu]

Dustin watched the group, all of them breaking just like he did when he was still at home with his wife and child. He couldn't help but feel sorry for them and wanted to console him. He wondered if his daughter would have grown up into any of the girls that were there for a moment. He disposed of the thought, though. He needed to maintain himself in a situation like this. He watched as the girls fought for a moment before the red-headed one walked over toward him and sniffled out something about finding a place to stay. He was about to speak before the other mentioned her brother's place.

As she was already walking away, he looked at the rest of them, still standing his ground. "I would definitely say it would be a good idea to get inside and keep yourselves safe until help arrives, but I am unsure if there is any help to come," he told them. "I'm going to police station right now. For the most part, we do have emergency supplies in there for whenever the worse happens. We would expect a natural disaster more than this though..." His voice trailed off as he looked around the area. It wasn't as bad as it was in some of the areas that he had passed by, but it was still something. "If there are anymore survivors of... whatever this is, they might be at the station or trying to get a hold of someone there. Just in case, I strongly suggests sticking together until we learn more about what is happening."

He turned toward the girl who was walking toward her car. "We also have cots there that we may be able to use. I'm not sure how big of a place your brother has, but it would be best to provide a place to sleep for everyone."

 

[malina]

It seemed that with even the entire world dead, if there remained but one more person to talk to fights would occur. Elaine's smile drooped until it turned to a frown and she dropped her smoke out the window, hoping to catch their attention. It was no go, after all, who'd notice the tiny thing in this situation? Elaine hid back down. It was time. They appeared to be leaving soon and if she didn't hitch a ride then she wouldn't survive to see next week. Although with this world, Elaine doubted she really wanted to. The sticky red floor reminded her of her responsibility to live, the right that had been gifted to her instead of the "perfect one" lying dead in the bath. It was funny. This was divine intervention, in it's purest form to Elaine and yet, she was the least likely person to receive it. It felt like somehow Jane had sacrificed herself so that she could live, and the weight of that thought rooted Elaine's feet to the floor.

Well, that or some other deep shit. Something that Plato would say. Probably. Elaine scratched her head, never being one to think religiously. At the end of the day however, with all of her paraphernalia dumped into her never used school bag, Jane's copy of the Holy Bible found itself neatly packed on top. This was it then. Elaine took one last look at the bathroom, her feelings bubbling over again. "Goodbye." She stood there a minute, the buzz of a lucky fly in her ear. "It-" her voice stuck in her throat, "it's polite to say bye back. I'll see you later." Elaine turned to leave but found herself stuck. Longing, want and disgust filled her. She couldn't stand it - she rushed over and kissed her roommate's unfeeling lips, Jane's cold sticky mouth imparting the taste of death upon her own. Her cheeks burned and before her dead eyes could glance reproachfully at her again Elaine was out the door, never to come back. "Wait! I'm alive, I'm alive! Hey! Hey!" Her hoarse voice added another ten meters to her stride, hopefully catching the group's attention before they left.