Smell of Burning Innocence

[ink]

The official anniversary of the apocalypse is the 19th of August in the year of 2012. This date marks the first recorded case of what would later be called Tanner's Disease. It all started, however, with the creation of a company called Tannercorp. It is named after it's founder, one Jacob Tannerman. Tannerman was a scientist who found the magic formula of genetically engineered food. He all but solved world hunger and drastically lowered the prices of food world-wide. There were those that opposed that red T in a blue circle, but what was their argument? Tannercorp was feeding the hungry and providing healthy and cheap food to the poor.

Tannercorp was a miracle to many, it's food strong and able to grow big and luscious, more so than its natural counter-parts, even in the harshest of climates and its meat grown in labs producing more food in less space than animals could, without the cruelty that most factory farms possessed.

Then, Tannercorp met its doom. Its Board of Directors decided that vaccinations were Tannercorp's future. The vaccinations were much like its food; affordable and widespread to those who needed it most. A miracle.

Until it wasn't.

As it turned out, the way the chemicals needed to create the genetically modified food and those in the vaccinations would mix together in the bloodstream was a lethal cocktail, just waiting under the surface until the body confronts an illness.

Tanner's Disease.

Brain degeneration. That is the first step. It manifests as a desire to consume other humans. Their blood, specifically. Only human blood. There are side effects of consuming human blood to those who have Tanner's Disease, however. The eye is a very fragile organ and very closely connected to the brain. First step victims find their pupils becoming ragged stars in their torn iris's, bright lights suddenly painful. The discover they have no appetite for regular food, though blood itself is not enough to sustain them, and they find their desires stronger, the brain degeneration causing a de-evolution of sorts, the intelligent human mind becoming more animalistic and passionate. Their saliva turns to a sweet venom that those who aren't victims of Tanner's Disease find drug-like in its effect, lulling and pleasurable.

The second step lays within the resistance of the first step. The brain so desires human blood that when denied, the desire of escalates into that of human flesh. Second step victims do not have a choice to whether or not they give in. They simply do. However, the effects of consuming human flesh is dire. It causes further degeneration within the brain. Pain exists no longer for second step victims and their body starts destroying itself, organs rotting alive within their gut, boils erupting on their skin, blood trailing from their eyes like tears, their muscle atrophying and their body consuming itself, leaving them emaciated.

The slang for First and Second Stage victims of Tanner's Disease? Vampires and Zombies, naturally, though neither are among the dead.

But it has been many years since the 19th of August in the year of 2012. Technology has advanced, the rich pouring their money into creating floating cities to escape the chaos of the surface. There are still wars and remarkably human-like androids have become a reality to fight them with all of the most modern technology imbedded into their human-like bodies. Airships have replaced airplanes, small groups of people living among the clouds and the floating cities in the large, bird-like vessels.

This is the world now.





“It's been almost cinque anno, now, since the world ended," Fiora commented to Sebastian as they finished the walk to the Tin Pony. The Tin Pony was a sleek and black but small airship.

"Really?" Sebastian asked, leaning on the Tin Pony casually as she tapped in the code into the panel left of the door. The door clicked clicked and Fiora swung it open, grabbing the handle on the inside and stepping up inside. Sebastian followed suit.

Fiora nodded "Si. I've been keeping track. I'm surprised you haven't been."

Sebastian shrugged, "I've been busy, you know. And I only care about the anniversary, anyways."

"You would," Fiora teased, maneuvering between storage cabinets that held her clothes and equipment to the cockpit, knowing without looking that Sebastian was right behind her, his presence running incorporeal hands down her back as he followed her. She settled down into the pilot's chair on the right. She buckled up her seat-belt, clicking the two sections together in the middle and tightening the straps. She glanced up, "Be my co-pilot," she offered to Sebastian, her
brown eyes shining in a smile. She pulled her dark, curly hair back into a ponytail, a tendril escaping and hanging out, and she put her headset on.

Her question was a familiar one. Sebastian nodded, wearing a crooked grin, and gave an equally comfortable and easy answer, "Sure."

He sat down and followed the same ritual of getting settled into the chair as Fiora, strapping on his seatbelt but not bothering to brush his messy, blood-red hair out of his eyes when he put his headset on. She flipped a switch and tapped a couple buttons, setting the engine humming.

"I heard that Restoration Site is going to visit Synual," Sebastian offered up to the quiet air, referring to the two large airships that belonged to Dominion and RESTORE, respectively. From the corner of his eyes he saw Fiora's lips tighten into a line.

"Yes," she said sharply, "I heard that, anche."

Sebastian glanced to the side, not replying to her as he pressed and held a button on the radio and reported: "Location: 43° 46' 0" N, 11° 15' 0" E; AIRFirenze. Elevation: 1.85 Kilometers above Sea Level. Date: 15 August 2017. Time: 0900 GMT on the dot. Dominion personnel Bloodwraith Captain comma S.W.A.R.M. Captain Marcstrom and Biotechnology Research/Development Manager Maniscettino checked into airship: Tin Pony. Tin Pony ASCC: 189b2. Fuel: 100 percent. Heading: 52° 10' 38'' N, 2° 11' 51'' W, Elevation: 46 meters; Keaper's Hold. Over."

A voice buzzed back with a thick Italian accent, "Va bene, got it, you two have permission to lift off."

Sebastian nodded then looked over at Fiora, "You ready?"

She smiled, "Si. Andiamo!"

Buttons were pressed and switches were flipped and soon enough, the Tin Pony was on it's way to Keaper's Hold.

As they flew through the air, Sebastian asked, "So, what does your dad think of this mission?"

"I did not tell him," Fiora sighed. "He thinks I'm going directly to Synual."

"Mm," Sebastian hummed, "The mom thing, right?"

She nodded, "Si. Even a simple mission like this, he is afraid of my death! I have been on worse missions, and without Dominion's top Bloodwraith by my side," she smiled at him.

"Heh," Sebastian huffed, a small smile creeping onto his face. He shook it off, "I think he's just worried."

"I know he's worried," Fiora replied, sighing, "I just wish he wouldn't."

Sebastian nodded, "Yeah."


[Italian translations:
cinque anno: five years
anche: also, too
andiamo: let's go
And I'm pretty sure you know what Si means XD]

[YukiTen]

RESTORE List
Captain, Engineer:
        Jase Green
Lead Pilot, Cook, Doctor:
        Cammy
Co-Pilot, Interrogation and Intelligence Officer:
        Keenan Holiday
Co-Pilot, Mechanic:
        Cyfon Minami
Weapons Systems, Development and Use:
        Sophia Blackfeld
Communications Supervisor and Radar:
        Kamakui Mika
Security, Observation, Lockdowns:
        Haru Fei
Documentation, Strategist:
        Souru Fei
Janitor, Mechanic:
        Hex Austin




August 15th, 2013. Center of the Grand Canyon, Arizona. Coordinates: 36*03'19"N 112*07'19"W. Time: 11:43 AM.

The wind was a subtle gust of air, gently blowing through the long, black side-ponytail that belonged to Kamakui, never gaining enough strength to actually move anything. Dust and the stale scent of sea water drifted along in the currents of the air, dancing through each strand of her hair and mingling with her nostrils. She blinked her disheartened brown eyes, holding her hands together as tightly as she could. She stood a meter off from the edge of the tan shelf of limestone, peering over with great sadness.

She couldn't believe that the planet hasn't been able to grow even a little since that day five years ago. It didn't make sense. It's been five years. Five years! And the planet couldn't do what it does best - sprout miracles.

Kamakui let out a heartbroken sigh.

All that was left was dust and smog, ruins of cities, the decay of once vibrant and beautiful forests, light winds carrying false promises of life, the insult of the rich and untouched floating cities above. What was left was severe depression, scars of human mistakes etched into the surface of the planet's skin, pain and anger, swells of disbelief and uncertainty, the sadness an struggle of getting up everyday to see what's happened and the bodies of animals and people and plants again and again. There was nothing else.

The soft kick and whir of the engines belonging to the Restoration Site rang in her ears and she spun on her heels, taking off down the slowly sloping limestone hill she climbed up hours before. By the sound of the clean rumbling, repairs on the engine blades, turbines, and boosters were complete, thanks to Cyfon, and the ship would be taking off soon. Repairs were a bit on the 'do everyday' side, seeing as how debris from the floating cities would get stuck in the engines. Even the survivors of the event from five years ago have little regard for others.

She sped along, her feet touching the thick titanium of the ramp leading inside to the ship's hangar where only a few small replicas of it were stored, following the thick, lime green paint lines on the floor to the far back of the hangar. Each line was evenly spaced apart, dashing in perfect thin rectangles. She kept on running, her feet crashing down on these simple lines even when a sliding door slammed down its track, revealing an impatient blond man with a black bandage on his nose and a scowl on his face. Of course, she slowed her quick run to a slow jog when she saw his bandaged hand - he must have hurt himself repairing a turbine - form a fist and slam down on the wall, the ramp she just came up slowly closing.

The scowling man glared at her, flinching visibly at the pain he must have suffered from hitting his hand against the wall, momentarily adjusting his arms to cross over his hooded chest. "Hurry the hell up, Kamakui. And quit leavin' yer communicator in yer room when ya leave the ship!" he snapped impatiently, his scowl worsening, brows furrowed. 

"Sorry, Jase!" said girl muttered sheepishly, picking up on her running again. She bolted up the steps leading to the sliding door where the blond stood with ease, finally ducking around him and stepping right on inside the white and blue uniform hall of the Restoration Site. She swiveled around on her heel for the millionth time and looked back at the man, waiting for him to follow after her.

Kamakui blinked her honey brown eyes, watching as Jase cradled and gently rubbed at his bandaged hand. She sighed softly, her heart aching a little. Stepping slowly and calmly, she worked her way back over to him and gently reached out, wrapping her small fingers around his wrist and tugging slightly. She wanted to help. And if helping was dragging him off to the other side of the ship, then so be it.

"Sir, come with me," she said softly, looking up at him with concern in her big brown eyes.

The man, Jase 'Rare' Green, is the captain of the Restoration Site and founder of the group RESTORE, whose goal is 'to bring the fallen world to a state of renewal, or a period of peace and prosperity within a realm of familiarity, and to grant the survivors of that fateful day (when the world came to an end) the ability to regain their happiness without consequence.' On this idea, the headstrong and snappy blond formed RESTORE. He wanted everything to go bcd to normal. Not just for the survivors, but even for his sister, whom he'd lost six years ago, a year before the events that destroyed normality in the world. And since then, he's been working as hard as he can with the whole of RESTORE to achieve his goal, sometimes getting frustrated and violent and spouting things he doesn't mean, always forgetting that his sister is dead. He works hard. He works too hard. 

And that's why he's an asshole.

Jase only snorted and roughly pulled his arm free of her gentle grip. He frowned deeply.

"I don't need yer help. Go on, git." He paused, taking in a frustrated breath. "Git to the control room. Now." He went back to  cradling his hand, shooing the worried girl away with a commanding glare. Though, his gaze softened when she nodded in defeat.

"Yes, sir," Kamakui mumbled, her eyes downcast. She really did want to help him. After all, she didn't particularly like it when people got hurt. 

But he didn't want it. So, may as well just head out to the control room. She turned on her small heels again and let out a cool breath, peering down the long brightly lit hall. On the other side of the too-long hall was the room everyone came to call the Living Room. Take a left, a right, another right, and a left, walk down a shorter hall, and there was the control room - which was, quite simply, a room of pure metal, cushion, and several feet of bulletproof glass and plexiglas polished to a wonderful shine and perfectly see-through.

Then static sounded over the intercom. "Kamakui, get your ass down here! Keenan needs you!" snapped a somewhat nasal and demanding voice, full of impatience and irritation.

She paled, her heart beating hard against her chest. Keenan needed her? But, what--

"Oh, indeed, I do. <3 For more things than anyone in existence will ever need you for, Sophia," quipped an equally impatient but musical and cocky voice, resentment for the other girl.

Kamakui, listening to the bitter conversation with slight interest, raced down the lengthy hallway, filled with a new urgency, forgetting all about her captain. If Keenan needed her, no matter the reason, then she really did have to hurry up. She smiled. He needed her.

"Shut up, you sick bastard! My brother needs me!"

"...If only an idiot of your caliber could understand the obvious incestuous implications in that comment." A very short pause. "Seems our little Sophia has an incestuous love affair going on. <3" And he started cackling with his voice full of amusement.

She continued running, skidding through the automatic sliding door of the Living Room, smiling all the way. She really did love Keenan's voice. It was typically light and playful, carrying hints of his cynicism and contempt, anger and happiness, sarcasm and seriousness in its many tones. 

"Wha-- You-- Fucking pig!" Sophia screeched, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. That blond woman had a very explosive temper - and she exploded, it was awful. In fact, there were no words that could possibly be used to describe it.

"Oh~ Feisty," Keenan chided in the most false-loving tone anyone could ever use. A yawn. "Good lord, Kama-chan. Hurry up so I can bite you during take off~ <3"

Said girl blushed a deep shade of red, swiftly exiting the Living Room and heading down the necessary halls in order to get to the control room. She giggled softly. Keenan was a bit of a biter. Especially during a rough sequence in flight. Come to think of it, she like it, too. Her blush darkened. That's probably why Keenan requested to be in the piloting seat closest to her radar... And her blush darkened further.

"You're an asshole! Kamakui deserves better!" Sophia snapped, continuing the conversation.

"But she doesn't want it," Keenan quelled lovingly, his sly affection directed at the still running dark-haired girl headed to the control room.

She blushed an even darker shade of red, the blue sliding door of the control room slipping open. Kamakui skid on the balls of her feet, finding herself on a collision course with the tall boy that had previously been speaking on the intercom, her head bobbing against his warm chest. She felt nothing but his heat from the impact. Slowly, though, she lifted her head to look up at him, a smile in her pretty brown eyes.

He was a handsome man, a seemingly permanent grin on his smooth, pale face. His black eyes were pinpointed on Kamakui's brown ones, scanning her like they always did, black hair framing his cheeks and narrowly jutting out and away from the triangular silver headset of a communicator connected to his ear. His hands were so lazily stuffed in his pockets, as per usual, and his lips were curved up in a cocky grin. 

"It's about time, Kama-chan," he cooed, swirling around and walking with his typical swagger around the bulge of the captain's seat and right down a short set of steps to his pilot's chair, sliding in lazily. "C'mon, Kama-chan~ Let's get ready for the flight."

"Yes, Keenan," she said softly, skipping right along behind him, cutely seating herself in her own blue chair. She didn't even bother to look around and see who all was in the control room. She settled herself and looked around the glowing blue dashboard, finding her orange communicator in the small tube beside her communication control panel and pulling it onto her ear. She straightened and eyed the radar, which was set on a steady pulse, sending out waves like a sonar. The radar could sense anything and not a single blip appeared. Which was good. No dangers during take off.

"Check the systems," rang a demanding Jase suddenly, followed by many a 'yes, sir'. 

Beeps, taps, silent growls.

"Weapons systems all check," Sophia announced.

"Security check," a very nasal voice said flatly, signature of Haru Fei.

Kamakui looked at the radar and communications screens, her fingers doing their magic on the glowing touch keyboard. Sentence upon sentence regaurding the...health of the communication system popped up: 'All systems online', 'All systems working well', blah blah blah.

"All systems check, sir!" she spluttered dutifully, giving Keenan, the secondary pilot, a quick and affectionate look. He only smiled at he less than subtle glance.

[This didn't come out as good as I thought it would. -.-"]

[ink]

"Ba dum ba dum, dauuum, ba da ba da ba daaaa," Nerro Amstidade sang, his bare feet tapping along on the grating and his head nodding in time, as his fingers danced along Synual's lead pilot's dashboard. The sun was shining, the winds were in their favor, and he had woken up before his alarm clock went off. All in all, a good day. He smiled and sang louder, "Da da, da daaaaaaaa, da duuu-"

"Would you please shut up," a growling voice interrupted him. It was Anny Quizzero, commonly know as the Fearsome Quiz when in her natural habitat. The Fearsome Quiz has a long red mane and a tanned complexion, and an affection for all clothes black.

"Hungover, Quiz?" the lazy grey lion know as FOGI ENNARRI drawled, sprawled all over his co-pilot chair, not doing a thing, feet hanging off one armrest and his head dangling off the other. The smirk on his face was upside down, along with the rest of his head.

Nerro laughed and Quiz scowled at Fogi, "I don't know how you're not, with all you drank last night."

Nerro barked out a laugh, "Another drinking contest? And ya didn't tell me?"

Fogi smirked, "Wasn't much of a contest with this lightweight, here."

"Tch," Quiz scoffed, "I drank you under the table!"

"You and your cute little dreams, Quiz," Fogi paused coyly, "Or shall we call them delusions?"

"SO!" Nerro said loudly, before Quiz could reply, "Why didja guys have a contest this time?"

"Uhhh..." was all Quiz said, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Fogi drawled, "Quiz said that she didn't want to mess today up and I wanted to see if she could do that hungover."

"Bastard!" Quiz shouted.

Nerro just shook his head and said, "Asshole..."

Two flurries of energy entered the room, talking a mile a minute.

"Who's an-" "Asshole? Is it Fogi, I bet it's Fogi-" "Sebastian isn't here today. He's with-" they sang together, "Fioooooooora."

It was Amy and Kole Zayler, the two pint-sized weapons specialists on board. They were twins, and it showed. Their clothes mirrored each other. Both wore white tanktops, an oversized black hoodie and grey, ripped jeans. They had raven black hair, tanned skin, and slanted black eyes.

"Why am I the asshole?" Fogi demanded, "You didn't even hear the conversation!"

Amy draped herself over his chair and peered down at him, Kole standing by her side, and she said, "Because you aaaare one."

"Hey!" he protested, much to Quiz's and Nerro's amusement.

"Kid's right, you know!" Quiz laughed, her red hair jumping in it's ponytail to her laughter.

"Hey, I'm not a kid!" Amy protested, "I'm sixteen!"

"Suuuuure," Fogi drawled, sarcasm dripping from his voice, "You're alllll grown up."

Nerro laughed and let the banter fade to the background as he focused on piloting his ship, his fingers deftly moving over the keys and switchs, knowing with a sure knowledge what was what and how to make it go.

He loved his crew.

________________________________________

The warm sunny air shone through the glass, silence blanketing them like a familiar comforter. Quite simply, no words were needed as they sat and their hands danced over the dashboard like a master pianist on your grandma's dinky little piano. They moved in synch, an obvious result many hours spent piloting the Tin Pony together.

Sebastian sighed. He knew Fiora's father didn't approve of their friendship. And he would disapprove even more if he knew the 'donations' she's been giving him.

Hell, he would be more surprised if the old man approved of them than if he didn't. Them... He shook his head, I think the word like we're dating... But we're not. Not at all. Someone like her... I would never force her to be with someone like me.

Someone like him. A vampire. Well, that wasn't the technical name for them (first stage victim of Tanner's Disease), or the worst thing he's been called (motherfuckin' leech). But it is what he is.

"We're half an hour away," Fiora announced to the quiet air, shattering the silence.

Sebastian nodded then asked, "We're going to the outpost, right?"

"Si," Fiora answered, "We are going to meet up with Enra Lettarn first then leave the base and find some of the Tannercorp food."

"Should be easy," Sebastian shrugged, "I hear there's pretty much no zombie-bastards there, since the Keepers patrol so much."

Fiora hummed in agreement then added, "The real difficulty will be finding the Tannercorp products. Most of them were burned when..." she paused, looking for an way to delicately put what she was trying to say.

Sebastian completed it for her, "The brain degeneration was discovered."

Silence descend upon them for a moment from his words.

"I wouldn't call it brain degeneration, Sebastian," Fiora said softly.

"But that's what it is," he said roughly, "Makes you want to eat other people. I'd say that's bloody degeneration."

Fiora was silent at his words. And he didn't say anything afterwards, either, unrepentant. An uncomfortable quietness settled down on them like a scratchy sweater, prickling at every nerve. They tapped buttons and flipped switches, watched gauges and checked the radar.

Eventually, they found themselves hovering over Keaper's Hold's Airship Landing Dock. It used to be a Walmart parking lot, before they converted it. There were still yellow paint lines indication where to park, but the Tin Pony was too large to even acknowledge them. A makeshift tower sat in the distance, talking to them as they landed and a sturdy wall surrounded the landing dock to keep out the undead.

"Ok, you're open, just a little to the left, then you can touch down and taxi to where the blue lines indicate. There, you can park and you'll be fine."

"I understand, grazie, signore," Fiora replied graciously before doing as the man said.

There was a bump when they landed, both frantically tapping buttons to control the ship. It became entirely Fiora's job as they taxied to the blue lines to park, Sebastian giving instructions just sitting back and watching her do her job.

And then they were parked. They both looked at each other and let out a breath, previous tension forgotten. They were going to face Enra Lettarn, the bitter woman who was David Keaper's love, and it was always hard to talk to her, no matter what.

"Time to disembark," Fiora said, obviously not want to do exactly that.

"Yeah," Sebastian said, drawing out the word, equally hesitant.

Frowning at each other, Sebastian joked, "You first."

Fiora's frown turned into a grimace and she sighed, "Va bene."

She unbuckled her seatbelt and Sebastian followed suit. They both climbed down the steep stairs and Fiora opened the door, letting them out. They walked down the ramp, blinking at the bright light and shivering in the cold air.

Time to face Enra Lettarn.


[Italian translations:
Va bene: Alright
Grazie: Thank you
Signore: Mister]

[YukiTen]

Mid-Atlantic Ridge, Atlantic Ocean. Coordinates: 52*30*N 33*W. Time: 1:15 PM.

"Kore wa totemo roka desu," exclaimed a bored teenaged boy with light brown hair and sloping shoulders as he twirled the red metal pole of a mop in his nimble hands, a deep frown on his face. "Why do I always gotta clean the stupid glass? And why with a mop?"

This was Hex Austin, a simple kid from the strip of parties and lights that made up the splendor of Las Vegas. Being from the biggest party town of its time, parties were something he never really got into. Mostly because no one ever invited him. It wasn't something he needed to worry about, anyway. His personal hygiene took priority. He has clean hair that is the lightest and shiniest brown ever to be seen and his eyes match. His face is angular, giving definition to each feature without making him look emaciated or skinny, and his skin is smooth and light, a dusting of freckles dressing his nose and other places. 

"Baka..." he muttered, dipping the mop into the blue, water-filled bucket sitting next to his Converse clad feet, and smacked the mop against the glass, swishing it around contemptuously. The glass he so had the privilege of mopping up came in large hexagonal sheets, eight-feet in height and width, nine feet in thickness. There were about eighty-one of them, going nine-by-nine across the full front of control room. It served as a window, and, sometimes, if darkened or if the metal shades are pulled down around the outside of the glass, it would become a screen for holograms, face-to-face meetings, full system checks by the captain, and even a computer so Rare could surf the web or write up a document or make a graph or something.

Speaking of, the shades were, indeed, pulled shut. Luckily.

The Restoration Site was headed northeast for some random European country and was currently crossing the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. Crossing water, a vast expanse of deep and mutated shark-filled water. Water dragons too.

A terrified shudder ran down Hex's spine. He was very, very afraid of heights, the ocean, and water dragons. 

Water dragons were basically an insane cross between an ostrich, Komodo dragon, and a jellyfish. Their bodies were huge, being three times the size of a Komodo dragon's body, and their heads were proportionate to their bodies but they were horned and almost skull-like, their eyes beady and a glowing yellow. For feet, they had the long tufts of poisonous tentacles that jellyfish typically had, each one barbed and thick. Their wings were huge and scaly, mirroring that of bat wings, and are tipped with frayed feathers and poisonous spikes. These animals were adept at swimming, propelling themselves through the water with their enormous wings and tails. They were equally as good at flying. And if you were lucky, you could even catch them out in the air fighting one another and breathing a corrosive fire. 

Which was never. Luckily never.

The breath of a water dragon was so acidic and hot that it could melt even the toughest parts of the Restoration Site. If that ever happened, the ship would most definitely go down. And if that happened while they were flying over the water, the shop would crash into the Ridge or maybe even just sink into the water and everyone would drown unless they could get to the evac ships in time.

Hex frowned at these terrifying thoughts, chills dragging down his little spine again, and he jammed the mop into the blue bucket. His brown eyes scanned the wet glass and  he gave a curt and satisfied nod. That was his last sheet of the hexagonal glass and that meant... he was finally done!

"Yay! Ureshii deshou!" he hollered happily, clapping his calloused child's hands together in quick and excited patterns, his face glowing with triumph. He was finally finished! He's been at this stupid job since five minutes after take-off and he was finally done with it. Finally! Maybe now he can go take a nice hot bath and go hang out in the Living Room with Kamakui or--

"Hey! Whatta yah squealin' about, yah damn Jap?!" vehemently demanded a blond that was peering over the dashboards of the many control panels from the control deck. He was wearing his typical weird bowl hat and that equally weird black bandage on his nose, a snarl pulling at his lips. 

Jase 'Rare' Green, captain of the Restoration Site and founder of RESTORE.

Hex brought up a calloused hand and cupped his own mouth. "I finished cleaning!" he replied, his excitement never leaving his voice even in the face of his boss. Whom could fire him and throw him out at any given moment. For whatever reason. Because he could. He gulped.

"It's about time! Git yer ass up here and dust off tha control panels and don't yah dare press nothin'! I'll kick yer ass cuz you'll fuck up tha flight if yah do," Rare grouched, pulling away from the tips of the dashboard and control panels. The man sighed irritably and limped back to his warm and cushioned seat, a thin smirk pulling at his lips at the frustrated grumble Hex emitted.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Sophia-san, do you know where Keenan ran off to? I can't find him and I was hoping you--"

"Iie, iie, iie. I don't know where that teme is," Sophia snapped, shaking her head in mild irritation. She didn't like Keenan. She didn't care about him. She didn't know why Kamakui asked we about him. She didn't like it. It was irritating.

"Oh... Gomen nasai, Sophia-san..." the mentioned girl muttered softly, a soft click on her side ending the communication link.

Sophia pinched the bridge of her nose with her thin fingers and let out a bit of sigh, using her free hand to pull off her triangular red communicator. She set tossed it across the room, watching it land with a pathetic tap just below the too-huge flat screen hanging on the wall. Everything was too big on this damn ship... She could handle that. But not the subject of Keenan. It was always Keenan this, Keenan that. She was tired of people - especially Kamakui - asking her where that sadistic man was. It's not like she knew. 

Fuck it. It's not like she gave a damn.

She leaned her head against the back of the too-comfortable blue couch in the Living Room, closing her eyes. The very soft rumbling of the engines echoed through the room, filling Sophia's ears with its quiet growling. The sound of rushed footfalls and the doors sliding open a million times a minute rang about along with that simple rumble of the engines and whirring of the turbines. 

All of these light patterns of noise were enough to lull someone to sleep.

Unfortunately, sleep was pretty much a privilege. Having to constantly pilot and monitor the ship's systems was a twenty-four hour, seven days a week kind of gig. If you were lucky to get sleep, it wouldn't be much. The ship rarely stopped for anything, and when it did, it was typically for refueling and supply pick-ups or missions. And only on these rare stops, which would last for days or weeks even, everyone could get some decent shut-eye. Hell, that's why it took days or weeks to finally get flying again.

And it was so, so very rare...

Sophia sighed again and settled herself into the soft, warm cushions of the couch, crossing her skinny arms over her stomach and slouching comfortably. Ah, may as well get what sleep that--

"Hey, Soph'!"

--If she could get any.

She groaned loudly, not bothering to hide her obvious annoyance at the interruption. "Nani?!" she quipped.

Two strong arms worked their way around her pointed shoulders and held her tightly, a chin digging into the top of her  blond head. Another pair of arms wrapped themselves around her sides from the front, squeezing just as tightly as the ones around her shoulders, and two nimble hands were planted very, very precariously on her breasts.

Oh, hell no.

"Sophia, play a game with us!" questioned that nasally white-haired Haru, followed by a tight squeeze on her breasts.

Haru Fei, manager of security on the ship, was the girl that always pissed you off for the some of the strangest reasons, what with her always finding an excuse to touch and grab some poor, unexpecting young girl - Kamakui and Sophia, sometimes even Cammy (when the android was on board) - in one of the many long halls of the Restoration Site. She was the kind of girl that forced herself onto other girls without realizing what she was doing and often times, she didn't apologize. Mostly because she never thinks she did anything wrong. As nice as she was, she was just too damn awkward and open about her sexuality, always grabbing ass and breasts like it ain't no thang but a fucking chicken wing. The white-haired, baby blue-eyed woman was a handful.

"Yeah, play with us!" yelped Haru's equally white-haired twin Souru, hugging her sides for dear life.

Souru Fei, recorder of the journeys of RESTORE and their trusty strategist, was Haru's twin brother. Being a bit on the more mellow side, he was bit more approachable. In fact, he was easier to talk to in most cases. He was a nice guy, but he had an unhealthy obsession with taking pictures of Keenan and Kamakui. It was like the sadomasochistic couple was a pair of super celebrities to him. Every chance he got, he'd take a picture. Maybe he liked to take their pictures because they were so opposite to each other? Who knows? The guy was obsessed with them. That, and just taking pictures. 

"Please, little sis!" sweetly quelled the deep rumbly voice of Cyfon, Sophia's older brother.

Ah, Cyfon Minami. The tall, black-haired man was Sophia's older brother, the mechanic and third co-pilot of the ship. He was born in Osaka, some nineteen or twenty years ago, and lived with their mother in Weiss Blackfeld's estate when the world was still intact and full of life. He served as a best friend and guard to Sophia, always polite and watchful, never abandoning his post. He was careful and kind, awkward and quiet. Back when they all lived in the Blackfeld estate, he never said or did anything out of the ordinary, seeing as how it was inappropriate for him. People pretty much looked down on him. But only because he was a kid and a guard. Now that he lived on the ship, for the last three years, he's come out of his shell and turned into quite the pervert. 

All of them were holding her in place - awkwardly, mind you - and slowly squeezing tighter and tighter, asking her to play a game with them. She didn't give a damn about a game. She was too focused on the fact Haru had her hands firmly planted on her breast and the fact she kept squeezing so unnecessarily hard. Sophia frowned deeply and opened her blue eyes, glaring right up at the blue-eyed Haru, putting forth no effort to hide her irritation.

"Get your dirty, nasty hands off my tits!" she snapped, pulling up her own hands to pull Haru's away.

Really, her personal space was totally being violated.

"Aw, sis... We were gonna play the nervous game. Guess you already lost," Cyfon sang, twirling a lock of her blond hair around his finger. He smiled wickedly, watching as she continued to do nothing.

"Would you guys PLEASE LET ME GO!" Sophia growled, clenching her hands into fists.

"No," the three annoying stooges replied in sync, their grips even tighter.

She let out a huffy breath. It's not like their arms were thin and it wasn't like Haru's hands weren't digging into her breasts like thick iron needles. Seriously. The lady's fingers were like daggers digging into her soft, fleshy breasts, unforgiving and needy as they squeezed. They hurt. Unnecessarily so. She frowned.

"Naze ka?" she asked helplessly.

"We don't want to. We want you to play the nervous game with us," they all stated simply. "It's boring with just the three of us. We need you!"

A very long and uncomfortable pause.

"Will you let me go if I play?" she asked quietly, frowning visibly. She really didn't want to do this, but...she would if it mean not having to continue being smothered by these three idiots. 

"Hai."

And so, with all the anger and hatred in the universe, Sophia agreed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Kamakui, Keenan, Fait, git down here. We got summin' ta talk about," Jase announced begrudgingly through his black communicator. He had his hands on the silver, cushioned arms of his seat and his feet flat on the floor, his deep green eyes fixed on the shaded glass surrounding the control deck. He sighed with mild irritation, digging his calloused fingertips into the cushion of the armrests of his chair, frowning deeply.

"Yes, sir!" the female he addressed replied breathlessly, her voice an airy hum. By the sound of it, she must have been running, or she still was. Her breath came in through the mic of her communicator in rough gusts, small, tired squeaks interlaced with her heavy breathing.

He shook his head. That kid was going to hurt herself one day.

"Aye-aye, Capeetan," rumbled the sickly sweet, sarcastic voice of Fait Pheon, the black-haired, red-eyed therapist on board the R.S.

Fait was just an ex-high school student with remarkable knowledge of the human brain, his interest of it matching. The kid had a talent for feeling around a person's emotional and mental standpoints, almost already knowing what the problems were and how to help fix them. But he was such a fucking weasel about it. He would work himself into your head and plant small ideas and mindfuck you like no tomorrow, leaving you confused and upset. Which, oddly, he enjoyed.

The kid was gonna get his ass kick-- No. He can work himself out of trouble. 'Cos he's a fucking weasel.

Jase shook his head and glared at an orange and green glowing control panel, his eyes tracing the flow of color. He frowned even more deeply.

"Alright, Señorita Green~" Keenan's singsong voice rang through his communicator, thick with self-enjoyment, bliss, and sarcasm. 

"I ain't no goddamn woman!" Jase snapped, lettin out an irritated and angry huff, nostrils flaring. That Keenan always liked to say things that pissed people off - especially Sophia and Jase.

He closed his dull green eyes, forehead creased with annoyance and annoyance OF the fact that his crew was comprised of a bunch of idiotic children - albeit intelligent children - and weasels. From Hex Austin, whom Jase had sent down to clean the bathrooms just a few moments ago, to Haru Fei, the open lesbian, to Fait Pheon to Keenan to Kamakui, the naïve little girl.

Unfortunately, when the group arrived at the control room, he was going to have to explain two monumental things to them.

About three days ago, when the Restoration Site was still on the ground for the repairs that needed to be done on the engines and turbines, he was sitting in his chair, grumbling to himself about the blades in the turbines being bent. Some debris from one of the floating cities wedged itself in between a few of the turbine blades, bending and almost breaking them. It was a long process, the repairs. But while everyone was taking turns with working on repairing the blades, Jase received two calls, both of high importance.

The first call was from Jennifer Waver, a too-skinny blond woman who was the director of a science institution that developed living androids, weapons powered by solar energy, and many different forms of transportation. Her request was nothing more than an ordinary cargo run: A pick-up from Keaper's - the place in England where the end began through the genetic engineering of food. The cargo consisted of two things: stem cells - which were kept in refrigerated, sealed silver coolers - and medical equipment - needles, freezers, gauz, heart monitors, oxygen tanks, defibrillators, etc. 

Why the scientist's request was important was because of what she was offering in return for RESTORE's services: free travel in the airspace of the floating cities and free access to non-genetically engineered foods and upgrades to the R.S. No money, just a lot of free and much needed resources. Ms. Waver's offer was a bit lofty compared to what she seemed to be requesting, obviously meaning that there would be some sort of dangers that the crew would have to face in order to acquire what she was asking for. A warning should have been issued, but maybe there was nothing to be warned about.

The second call was a direct transmission from the captain of Dominion's ship Synual himself, Nerro Amstidade, a younger and shorter man with a too-happy disposition. Jase didn't like him because of that: he was just too happy and he was also the head of a rival but similar group. Dominion's goal was to basically change the world for the better - not to restore it to how it used to be.

That's not the point.

Nerro Amstidade wanted to meet with Jase's crew. He wanted to meet RESTORE. In his transmission, he didn't lead into any details as to why he would want to meet with the crew of RESTORE, only talking in a cheery manner of what he wanted to do. He gave a place and a time: August 15th at - ironically - Keaper's in London, each word pronounced clearly.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to comply.

The soft but shrill squeal of the automatic doors to the left and right of Jase's chair sliding open echoed through the shaded control deck, three sets of footsteps swanning in quietly. All of them were light taps on the metallic flooring, stepping carefully as if they thought that, for whatever reason, they were all in trouble. Their steps came to an abrupt stop not seven feet away and Jase opened his dull green eyes, preparing himself to explain the mission parameters and the meeting with Nerro. He let out an irritated sigh.

They weren't going to be happy about this.

He sent his gaze up to the co-pilot, the communicator, and the therapist of his crew, noting with mild distaste that the female and the oldest of the three were disheveled, messy, their hair carelessly sticking up in too many directions, clothes hanging off their shoulders. Small bite marks littered their necks, cheeks tinted red, careful smirks plastered to their faces. Jase clicked his tongue at the sight of them and closed his eyes again, forehead creased, ears burning red with heightened annoyance. 

The reason why Kamakui was so out of breath wasn't because she was running. No. She was getting fucked out of her poor little mind and--

"Hey, cap'. What's the dealio?" Fait's sarcastic chime wormed its way into the air, breaking Jase's dirtied thought process, making the man open his eyes for what seemed to be the hundredth time. The kid had an indignant grin on his face, red eyes pinpointed on the green ones of Jase's.

The older man gave a sigh. "We got business, that's what."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The heat of the yellow sun raged on, beating down on all that had the misfortune of getting caught in its rays. It baked the surface of the earth, crisping and cracking caked-together mud and drying up puddles from any previous rains, scorching a young woman's slightly tanned skin relentlessly. Her feet were bear, black boots stuffed lazily in the crook of her arm, and a black scarf was pulled tightly around her face to protect from any toss or storm of dust, only allowing for her pearlescent red eyes to show. Her short, firetruck-red hair stuck to her forehead and neck, glued to her skin from the sheen of sweat decorating her tired body.

She limped alongside a pair of white foxes, her tanned feet sore from the too-hot earth beneath, sore from the cuts and blisters festering on her toes and soles. The foxes were small - thin and long - and they scampered around as if the heat was a reservoir of much needed warmth, reveling in the death rays, they're bushy tails waving around in the less than cool breeze. 

Actually, a nice, cold gust of air could definitely sooth the agonizing pain of sunburns and blisters corroding Maria Yui's skin. Brush through her sticky hair, cool her down. You didn't get that here in the desert of the dusty Devastation Fields fifteen miles north of where the world came crashing down without warning. 

She could remember it with the disgusting stale tang in her mouth. All the violence, the splashing and splattering of blood across the asphalt and walls like paint, the tearing of clothes, tear gas, shrill screaming, the spilling of intestines and all other organs onto the pavements and carpets, loss of all rational thought, fight or flight instinct. Go. The blood, the screaming... It all was burned so cruelly into her childish mind, forvever a conscious memory an sometimes even a hallucination. 

The complete and utter collapse of society was a memory with effects spanning a lifetime.

"Mawia!" barked a sweet yet husky voice, riddled with excitement and mild joy.


Japanese/Abbreviation Guide (for Japanese in this post and what I use later)
R.S. = Restoration Site
Kore wa totemo roka desu = This is very stupid.
Hai = yes.
Ureshii deshou = I'm happy.
Kawaii deshou = Cute!
Baka = stupid/dumb/idiot.
Teme = bastard.
Sumimasen = I'm sorry/Excuse me.
Gomen Nasai = I'm sorry (formal).
Nani = what.
Bakayarou = dumbass/jackass.
Kowase = destroy it.
Itadakimasu = thank you for the meal.
Oyasumi nasai = Good night.
Ohayou = hello/morning.
Ohayou gozaimasu = good morning.
Konnichiwa = hello/good afternoon.
-kun = honorific for childish boys or subordinates.
-chan = honorific for girls or friends.
-san = honorific for girls and boys, polite.
-sama = honorific for superiors.
Maa = oh well.
Watashi wa = I/me.
Naze ka = why?

[ink]

His name was Ash Detherford and her name was TEINI ENNARRI.  Her first name stood for Total Emotional Integration in Neural Intelligence and her last name stood for ENgineering Nerve-Arterial Robotics to Return Input.  Teini was a robot.  She had silver hair and eyes, full lips, and alabaster skin.  Her clothes currently consisted of loose, black yoga pants and a brown tank top with white lace trim.  Bracelets that she and her mother-creator, Fiora, had woven together went halfway up each forearm.  Her hands were adorned with beige fingerless gloves and her nails were showing a red pattern that had white polka-dots.  Her feet were bare and her toenails were showing the same design as her fingernails.  She was probably five feet tall.  A fierce grin was on her face, her silver eyes glinting under the fluorescent lights.  

His name was Ash Detherford because his mother always liked the name Ash and his father was a deadbeat who didn't show up for his birth, and so, out of spite, he was given his mother's maiden's name, not the last name the resentful couple shared.  He was a survivor of the apocalypse.  His hair was dirty blonde with several small braids in its length and he had brown eyes and thick eyebrows.  He had many freckles and piercings. There were two metal hoops in his left eyebrow, three in his right, a hoop on the left side of his bottom lip, several studs going up his nose and a combination of hoops and studs in each ear.  He wore several rings.  Only ripped jeans held up by a simple black leather belt clothed him, as he took every chance to take off his shirt.   He had a tattoo of his spine that sprouted skeletal wings over his shoulder blades that he loved and took every chance to show it off he could.  He also had a tattoo of a snake eating its tail around his left bicep.  He could easily claim six feet as his height without question.  A smirk dancing on his lips was his answer to Teini's grin.

The two were standing in room 204, along with Jessica Talors, Ash's mentor.

Jessica was a fierce woman, even though she had a sweet southern accent.   She had been eaten alive once, and only narrowly escaped death thanks to the work of Darron Talors, the man she fell in love with and married, and Fiora Maniscettino, the woman she is eternally gratefully to.  Between the two, they had stabilized her and created robotic prosthetics for her missing body parts.  She wasn't ashamed of her prosthetics but she chose to cover them up with chunky knit sweaters and blue jeans.

Room 204 had four pillars, each four feet away from the corners.  It had two workout machines facing each other, one for weightlifting and the other a treadmill.  Dumbbells were scattered around in the other two corners.  The carpet was a navy blue and the walls were an eggshell white and covered in mirrors.  In the middle between the pillars was a platform about 20 centimeters high and padded.   Teini and Ash were standing on the platform with their fierce grins and dancing smirks.

They were about to spar.

"Ok, so y'all know the rules," Jessica drawled in her accent and paused. She was leaning up against the back wall with her arms crossed.  "… Don't kill each other."

They both nodded and slid into fighting stances and without further adieu, they began.

Ash started with a high kick, his left leg aiming for Teini's head.  She ducked under it and, following the flow of the motion, swept his feet out from under him, her right leg colliding with his.  Ash spun with the inertia of his kick as he fell.  Teini spun around to the left with the energy of her motion to face him.

She pounced and tried to pin him, but he threw her right away.  She rolled up into a crouch and watched as he swung up into a mirror position.  They circled each other, waiting to see who would make the first move.

It was Teini.  She moved in and tried to punch him with her right fist but he dodged and counterattacked with his left fist.  Teini spun 90 degrees and redirected the energy in his blow with her bracelet-covered forearm and then kicked him in the gut. 

He let out a satisfying "oof," and Teini moved forward and decked him on his left temple.  He fell forward and she caught him with her knee, prompting another groan from him.  She let him fall and then pounced once more, gripping his biceps and locking her feet around his calves, pinning him.

"Do you give?" she asked, not even panting. 

"Yes," he groaned, "I fucking give."

Teini smiled and stood up, offering him a hand, "Do you want help to the infirmary?" she asked.

He scowled at her as he pushed himself up. "No."

"She's not even a battle bot, Ash," Jessica frowned, unhappy with his performance, "I was sure you could last at least five minutes against her."

"I think you'd be able to beat a zombie, though!" Teini chipped in, trying to cheer him up. 

"A zombie?" Ash asked incredulously, slowly standing up. "A kitten could destroy a zombie!"

"Well, it's not my fault I beat you so easy so stop taking it out on me!" Teini yelled, her hands going to her hips, "Maybe you just need to train more!"

"I do train!" Ash defended himself, "I train a lot!"

"But obviously not enough," Jessica said critically. 

"What?" Ash winced, " I train two hours a day!"

"Four, now," Jessica corrected, deciding to up his training time.

Teini interjected, "That's a lot!"

"He needs it, obviously," Jessica replied.

"B-what?!" Ash said, finally processing what she said, "Four hours?  We're doing four hours now!?"

"One on hand-to-hand, one on grappling, half hour on zombie techniques, half hour on weapons use, an hour on interrogation techniques," Jessica mused, breaking down his new schedule for him, "Though not necessarily in that order."

"Only half an hour on weapons use?" Ash complained, as he both liked and was good at weapons use.

"Yes," Jessica snapped, "Your weapons use doesn't need work like everything else."

The intercom buzzed and Nerro's voice sang out, "All personnel to the bridge, all personnel to the bridge!"

"Let's go, guys!" Teini said cheerfully, heading towards the door.

Ash groaned where he stood, "I don't wanna move..."

Jessica was unsympathetic. "Get your ass to the bridge, Ash."

Teini skipped out the door and poked her head through when she noticed they weren't following.  "Come on, guys," she whined, "Nerro said all personnel."

Jessica replied sharply, "We're coming," she directed her next statement fiercely at Ash, "Both of us."

"I'm comin', I'm comin', yeesh," Ash grumped, dragging his feet to the door. 

He was the last one out and slid the door shut behind him before turning and following the procession of women to the bridge.

When they got there, everyone else was already there. 

Sophelia was at her station, checking the radars, Fogi and Quiz were actually both piloting instead of annoying each other, Amy and Kole were chattering to each other at their station, Dimitri talking with Darron at the communications station and Nerro was standing in behind his chair, looking out the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

When he heard them enter, he spun around, eyes lighting up. "Awesome, you guys are here!  I can start now," he smiled and clapped his hands together and and cleared his throat, a sure sign he was about to speak in what Sebastian called 'The Captain Voice.'  It was surprising to hear it at first out of Nerro; it was commanding and resonating and firm, a complete opposite from Nerro's usually playful and laid back tone.

"Everyone," Nerro spoke and all heads turned from what they were working or not working on to look at him, "I think all of you have heard of the meeting with RESTORE," heads nodded and he continued, "And I also believe that many of you know it's going to happen at Keaper's Hold."

"That's why Sebastian-" "And Fiora went there-" "-right, Sir?" Amy and Kole asked, ending together.

"Yes and no," Nerro answered, "Fiora and Sebastian went to collect Tannercorp products for research to see what caused the brain degeneration," he paused, "But they are also there to set it up with Enra Lettarn and smooth any bumps over.  They will meet us when we arrive."

Nerro paused for questions.  Normally the whole crew would be bouncing up and down with questions.  But they were quietly respectful.  He smiled.  He loved his noisy, rambunctious but he also kind of liked this calm crew.  He knew he'd get sick of it though. His crew is his family and his family isn't a quiet one.

He continued, "I've chosen several of you to come represent Dominion along with me during the meeting."

Now the flurry of question came in.  The twins wanted to know if they were coming, Fogi wanted to know if he could command the ship while he was gone, Dimitri wanted to know if there would be any beautiful women there, Darron wanted to know if he could poke around Keaper's medical supplies, Jessica wanted to know all the details, right now goddammit Nerro I'm the head of security I needa know this shit beforehand, and Quiz wanted to know if there was going to be an after-party.

"Everyone," Nerro commanded, trying to quiet them all down.  He was successful. 

He continued, "I've already decided with Fiora and Sebastian who will be doing what," there were coos of disappointment and Nerro sternly responded, "Come on, don't make noises at me, I let you do what you want most of the time," he looked around and  everyone was silent. It wasn't every day that Nerro showed his authority.  He cleared his throat and went on, "Fiora and Sebastian will be with me. Dimitri, Fogi, and Quiz, you three will also come with me to meet with RESTORE."

There were protests of favoritism and choosing only the Elites, the meanie.

But Nerro explained, "I chose Fogi and Quiz because they are both co-pilots and I chose Dimitri because he is the communications officer.  As for Sebastian and Fiora, they're both my advisors and I'd like to have them with me."

Fogi pouted at the news he was going and Dimitri reiterated his question, "Well, will there be any beautiful women there?"

Nerro laughed, "There damn well better be, with all the trouble this Jase Green has put me through to set up the meeting," he shook his head with a smile.

He surveyed his crew then announced, "Meeting over! Back to your stations; back to work! Scat!" he made a shooing motion with his hands, grinning as the twins, Teini, and Ash scampered away, all talking amongst themselves, while Darron and Sophelia walked away at a more sedate pace.

Once everyone who was going left, Nerro walked around and sat in his leather and chrome chair, switching from Captain mode to Pilot mode as he surveyed the console, taking in the numbers and the screens, processing the information.  "Alright, guys, just a couple more hours and we're there," he announced.  He continued, looking at his remaining crew, "Now, let's talk plans. Fiora and Sebastian will join us once they're done with Enra.  Let's begin."

____________________________________

[YukiTen]

*Just about a mile east of Keaper's, heading away from it*


"Mawia! Mawia! Mawia!" the two foxes barked musically in their childish and polar opposite voices, their tiny claws tapping and digging into the heat-hardened earth as they sprang and ran along.

"¿Qué es?" the woman inquired softly, a gentle smile curving up the corners of her lips. 

"Dejar de recordar cosas malas, Mawia!" scolded the lighthearted and warm voice of the largest fox - he was only slightly larger than the smaller one - Bran, his head cocked over his shoulder enough to look up into Maria's color-changing eyes, his own a soft and concerned blue. 

Bran was the oldest of the two foxes and also the one that worried the most. His constant fussing over Mox - the smaller and more playful fox - and Maria was something that was always taken to the tenth degree. If it was something as simple and typical as an intake of breath that may have been inhaled because of some random and strange thought or if it was something as important as the sudden scent of the dead that worried one, he was right there and bugging Mox or Maria about it. Maybe he was afraid to lose the two females? Often times he cared more about the safety of them and tried to persuade them to go another way - depending on whether or not they were traveling or looking for food - or set up camp for the night or day and wait.

However, as much as he needlessly worried, his intentions were pure and loving. The fox was motherly even though he was male, always watching over his companions.

Maria smiled gently.

"Déjelo pensar en lo que ella quiere, estúpida," the more high-pitched and giggly voice of Mox immediately sounded after Bran's reply, very gruffly defending Maria's ability to think of whatever she wished. 

That's just how Mox was: protective, insistent. Coming from the very same litter of fox pups, you'd think she would be a little bit more like Bran in terms of caution and avoidance. But, alas, she quite the opposite. Her attitude towards caution and care was next to a 'fuck that' and she disregarded every precaution set by Bran. She was head strong and stubborn, her mind dead set on freedom and self-government. She had the firmest belief in that old saying Live life to the fullest and never let anything get in between her or her way of life. Not even Maria or Bran. However, as thoughtless and carefree as she may be, Mox held a great affection for her brother and human 'mother'. She always fussed over wounds and aiding in the cure of their boredom with travel games like that game one would play where you say a word and you use the letter that ends it to find a new word and the cycle went on. Often times, the game would grow boring and everyone would quiet down.

Thus creating uncomfortable silences and room for thought.

"Callas, tonto! No queremos a llorar!"

Although Maria disapproved of all this bickering (it was purely because there was no place for it, seeing as how they had to live and breathe in the same space and work very hard to keep it), she couldn't help but smile, watching the two foxes nip at each other's pointy and flicking white ears, their throats rumbling with deep and somewhat high-pitched growls. 

The siblings were very close to her. They were all she had left after the global collapse. Her family was gone, having up and left her for 'higher ground', leavin her without supplies or companions to help her survive in the devastation.

"Está bien. Por favor dejar de luchar," Maria pleaded, her shifting eyes flitting about between the nearly identical foxes. She didn't like it when the two fought. It caused too many problems and there was always a thick layer of unneeded tension left between them afterwards, and in this day and age, fighting was the most uselesse thing you could ever have. You needed to work together in order to survive.

She nodded to herself, sure about her thoughts.

Fighting and tension were bad.

Teamwork and kindness were good.

All was silent for a while after Maria had spoken, the foxes shaking their heads and ignoring each other, looking at anything but each other. Their bushy tails lie flat and their ears swiveled backwards as they padded along the overheated and desert-like surface, huffing in frustration as they went. Maria shook her head at them and continued to walk along behind them, flinching in mild pain as she pressed her feet down on the ground.

It was even hotter than ten minutes ago, she decided, digging her pointy canine into her lip with each step.

The rate at which the heat was rising was absolutely alarming. Since the calamity, it's been going at a steady pace, only increasing a degree or two then dropping back down from that degree every month. All of that was bearable. But, today, Maria concluded, it had to have been a good several degrees higher than the last rise in heat. That would be the only explanation for this unbearable new heat. If it got any hotter, entire ecosystems and peoples would start to--

"Eh, Mawia. Veo una multitud," Mox's incredulous voice snipped lowly, her head cocked back over her shoulder. Her eyes were zeroed in on Maria's, filled to the brim with blank questions. The expression on her face was flat but it was her eyes that had the emotions. Her eyes. They held irritation, blankness, confusion, and all the seriousness in the world.

Maria blinked. Wait. She said 'multitud'.

A crowd means people and people means food and shelter and that means safety and sleep. A blessing of a lifetime. The closest thing to normalcy. The closest thing to the old days. The closest thing to how everything used to be.

Her interest was piqued.

"¿Una multitud? ¿Donde ves una multitud?" she questioned Mox, smiling as Bran just shook his head and ignored the conversation altogether. She knew how he would feel; he would feel as though no one is going to listen to him so he may as well give up and let them do as they wished. Maria grinned, returning her attention to Mox. 

"En espera."

And so, she did. Maria's eyes coasted past the foxes and lifted off the crackly ground and straight into a massive chain of hobbling people about three-hundred or maybe four-hundred yards out. An uncanny bubble of extreme happiness welled up inside the redheaded Spaniard and, without giving it any thought, she made a break for it, bolting past her companions, ignoring all pains in her feet and just running. People! There were people, she thought, and all of them were directly in front of her. The possibility of survival grew and grew with each of her footfalls, her smile spreading across her face. People!

"¡Espera! No sabemos nada sobre ellos. Tal vez su danerous!" Bran's frantick bark sounded behind Maria. It was far away sounding, but she didn't care. People were ahead and that meant she could finally survive wit and thrive with those she could relate to.

She ran and did so quickly, leaping into the air with utter glee and joy, picking up her pace and not caring at all if her foxes followed or not. They would catch up. So she continued, the distance between her and the massive crowd shriveling as she ran.People!

And then, without warning, a gust of wind blew from the east and a deadly familiar scent wafted into her nostrils and one by one each person in the crowd stopped and turned, breaking out into a limpy sprint. She froze. Her eyes focused on these quickening people and widened like red saucers. 

They weren't people. 

Flesh hung off of their bodies in every which way and every body part, sliding clean off as their too-fast movements forces it off their bodies. Blood was a simple smattering across their faces and clothes and the grass, it's color rich and deep, almost black. Their legs and arms were useless and loose, hanging from their sockets and flailing about as these things continued to run about. Their faces were mangled and mutilated, skin blue and rotting, tiny maggots shifting underneath and poking out through chewed up holes. Limbs broke and bones protruded from injuries as they drew closer, more blood splattering about in every direction. Heavy groans and growls filtered through Maria's laid-back red ears, each sound resembling a grind of metal on metal with the agony of a screaming, dying woman. 

These people were not people.

Hot tears slid down Maria's cheeks and sweat dripped down her neck and shoulders, pooling at the small of her back, drenching her beige dress. Frozen to the bone, in place, her breathing hitched even more than it had initially and those hit tears practically flooded her face. She couldn't move. She just couldn't move. She could hear her fox companions howling for her, but she couldn't move a single muscle, a knot choking her as it formed in her throat with reckless abandon.

These disgusting, rotting, maggot-infested bodies worked they way towards her clumsily, growling in mild starvation as they did so.

Run. Or die.

Spanish Translations
"Déjelo pensar en lo que ella quiere, estúpida." ~ Let her think what she wants, stupid.
"Dejar de recordar cosas malas, Mawia!" ~ Don't think of bad things, Mawia!
"Que es?" ~ What is it?
"Callas, tonto! No queremos a llorar!" ~ Shut up, fool! I do not want her to cry!
"¿Una multitud? ¿Donde ves una multitud?" ~ A crowd? Where do you see a crowd?"
"Está bien. Por favor dejar de luchar." ~ It's okay. Please don't fight.
"En espera." ~ Look forward.
"¡Espera! No sabemos nada sobre ellos. Tal vez su danerous!" ~ Wait! We don't know anything about them. They could be dangerous!