Lucas Sighs. He'd Gotten Held Up At The Station, But He Can Only Blame Himself.

Adrien gasps for air and drops to the floor since it's easier than standing at the moment. He weakly takes the water bottle and tries to slurp some water. It interrupts his breathing, so he stops soon after.

"Running with you was a mistake," he says between breaths. "I swear I thought I was in shape."

status: open to all. (0/3.) location: colony house.

the warmth of her forehead is slicked with sweat and decorated by strands of black hair that have fallen afoul of their usual tidiness. panting heavily, nic saunters through the colony house's front door and over to the closest available surface to sit on. limbs ache from overuse, making settling a slow process that's paired with a grunt of exertion. it's only once she's resting shaky legs that she finally looks up to make sure her workout partner has filed in behind her. in a surprising change from her regular stoic expression, nic lets her eyes soften and a smile grace her features. apparently, the way to her heart is through keeping up during a run.

"good goin'. how're you feelin'?" if she's tired, she reckons her companion's probably about ready to collapse. which is why she offers up the bottle of water she'd saved for this very moment. "here."

where: edge of the woods | when: day time | whom: open to all

Lucas crouches at the edge of the woods, examining what could be tracks. Or could be nothing. He hates how smart the creatures are. They could've left this behind just to toy with him.

He hears rustling from footsteps behind him, and he doesn't bother looking up.

"The hunting woods are six miles that way," he says, pointing his left hand. "Signs and caution tape everywhere. You can't miss them."

Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "Six Recognitions of the Lord," featured in Devotions: Poems

Adrien laughs and nods in agreement.

"Your ass definitely looks good and you're rocking it."

He even salutes her before bursting into giggles.

"Yeah, it seems like it's hard to cobble together even basic costumes. I'm honestly surprised they even bother with the dress up part."

THE DESCRIPTION HAS CHERRY STARING FOR A BEAT OR TWO . " wow . okay ." cherry has to shake her head as if to clear it, her hands on her hips as she squints at him in disbelief . " the fuck ?" but before they can get further into it cherry is waving a hand dismissively as she says, " you know what ? the bullshit hollywood is doin' doesn't matter, i am a fuckin' soldier, thank you for askin' ." cherry gestures to her camo shorts with a pleased nod . " mostly because it was quick and easy and my ass looks good in these shorts ." she shrugs before adding, " i wanted to be a hooters girl but i couldn't find a lotta orange to be honest ."

Lucas rubs his eyes.

"Good morning to you too, Muz. For your information, no. How about you?"

He nods to Muz's matching bags under his eyes. Then he sips his coffee.

open, town square

Muz squints up at the washed-out sky, the sun barely breaking through a layer of gray clouds, casting a pale light over the town square. The place looks almost normal in the daytime, like the night hadn’t clawed at it. He watches a few people drift while he leans against a bench, idly tracing a crack in the wood with his thumb, his gaze darting on occasion, wary glances.

A face crosses his line of sight, and Muz straightens, raising a hand in a lazy wave. ‘Hey,’ he calls out, his voice cutting through the quiet. ‘Get any sleep last night?’ He nods to the shadows under their eyes, a half-smile tugging at his mouth.

Adrien clocks something odd in the way Cherry brushes off his offer but shrugs it off.

"I mean nice, really likes cuddles. Six-pack isn't necessary. A bonus but not necessary. And I guess willing to like be patient when I admit I'm new to stuff?"

Then he groans, blushing from embarrassment.

"I'm so cringe, aren't I?"

" OH, I'M — " CHERRY WAVES A HAND . " not really lookin' for anythin' right now, don't worry about me ." she tries really hard not to focus on the twist in her stomach, instead focusing on nudging adrien with her elbow . " but what about you, champ ? huh ? what's your type ?" a nod as she leans back to ask . "what am i lookin' for ?"

Lucas looks up and smiles at Ana, which quickly turns to a grimace at the mention of Cameron. Lucas has heard all about that rocky relationship, and he knows even making sure the town is okay isn't enough to fully distract from that.

"At least she's still here. Not everyone got so lucky. We found Kina and... yeah, I'm gonna check up on Rae later."

He looks back down at the supplies.

"We're okay for now. I just don't know how best to ration anything in case something like this happens again. Is it too much to ask for a semi-truck full of survival supplies to come into town?"

He gives a weak chuckle at the old joke they've shared probably a hundred times in the years since he became a sheriff.

The sky feels too bright for what last night was. It shouldn’t be this quiet, this deceptively calm. Anastasia pulls her coat tighter, as if that could keep out the weight of exhaustion. Her hands still smell faintly of rain and the damp clothes she sorted, her mind circling back to Cameron more times than she’d like. She finds Lucas by the sheriff’s post, bent over a table littered with supplies—medical kits, rope, lantern oil. Seeing his familiar face pulls a tired smirk from her, brief and fleeting. “Hey,” she says, stepping up beside him. She breathes out slowly, "I just came from Colony House." Her words are low but steady, like it’s a confession that only Lucas can hear. "Saw Cameron." She waits a beat, rubbing a hand over her face as the memory settles like stones in her gut. "It went... like it always does." Her voice softens, brushing against old wounds. "She’s holding it together. But she's fine, thankfully." The silence between her and Lucas is easy, a quiet understanding built over years of shared burdens. She glances down at the supplies, her gaze flickering across the bottles and bandages with the detached focus of someone always on edge. “How bad is it? I know we lost some people... How're we on supplies?” she asks finally, her voice edged with exhaustion. @patroclusblossom

where: chop shop when: day time whom: @hcartcorruptcd El

Adrien is hunched over the engine of the truck, trying to gauge what all is salvageable and what could be modified to be salvageable.

They'd had a few cars brought in from the junk yard after the leaders and sheriff's department got everything useful for the community. Now they're stripping what they think can be useful.

"For a truck from the '80s," he calls out, "it's in pretty good condition. Almost a shame to tear it up."

He climbs out with some valves, carrying them over to the piles they'd started to keep things vaguely organized. Then he glances over to El.

Adrien sees the frayed cord and immediately jumps up excited.

"Oh, that's easy. Give me like twenty minutes. Take a seat."

He takes the fan from her, setting it on the desk, and then immediately begins to rummage for the tools he needs. He hums quietly until he has everything in his hands. Settling in at the desk, he starts to work.

"So how long you been here? What can you tell me about it?"

His gaze stays focused on the wires as he asks the questions.

a nostalgic sort of smile curls her lips up and she's reminded of something that she'd rather not be - the innocence of her son - before she shoves the thoughts away with a fierce push. "i have a fan that won't work anymore." she explains, holding the tiny electrical fan up. "it plugs into the wall but the chord recently has frayed..." she shows him the end that is obviously frayed. "sucker has been with me the entirety of my ten years here and i need it to last a few more, especially because i use it in the summer at the infirmary for people with heat sickness." looking hopeful, she sets the fan down in front of him. "think you can work some magic?"