"Son of a bitch!" came the indignant cry of Tiras, as they gave a small hiss and waved their hand rapidly. They were working on fixing the final pieces of a engine. And due to not having proper gloves for doing this work, their hand had just received a rather painful spark from electricity. Not to mention how oil-stained they were from working on such a tremendous project ; they had the garage as their little "secret" lab and workspace of sorts - not many were allowed in it or allowed to see what they were working on at the moment. But they were just about finished with this months long project - so they didn't care who saw it, and plus it was hot as hell inside the garage if they kept the door down. So they were in the blistering heat, standing on a stool, peering down into the engine of this RV they found. How they managed to sneak the vehicle to the house without the suspicion of the others ; they would never tell, but this would be a big help if they could get the damn thing to start. They were currently looking a mess, grease stained their face, and their hair was bunched up in a messy ponytail and they had their cropped shirt tied in a knot in the front, and the jean shorts they wore, clung to their sweaty body. They wiped the sweat forming on their forehead and took a deep breath. Focus, you can do this, they thought to themself as they looked at the engine again. Mostly everything was fixed and repaired, but something was still preventing the engine from starting up properly. That's when they noticed that the spark plug wasn't connected properly, and they gave an annoyed huff as the looked at the piece of equipment with annoyance. " All this fuss for a piece of equipment so small ?" they glowered as they fixed the connection of the spark plug, and made sure to check the oil levels of the vehicle. Now was for the big moment, the test of truth, would the damn thing crank?

They opened the door to the RV, and smiled at their work, the floors smelled of faint lemon, as they had managed to find some Pinsol on a store raid, and not to mention even in the poor lighting they could see the pristine way they had cleaned this vehicle from head to bottom. Now they went to the drivers seat, the leather seat calling their name. And they placed their hand on the key with the ladybug charm on it. And they said a silent prayer, as they closed their eyes and turned the key. With their foot on the gas and key turning, they could hear the engine roar to life, and then settle down in a steady rate. The lights were now on and they could see the shimmering inside of the RV, and they gave out an unbelieving laugh - manic grin on their face as they began to cackle out of joy. " Oh she's purrin' like a kitten." They cooed happily as they then began to squeal excitedly, and they quickly turned the vehicle off, and scrambled out of the driver's seat, to make their way to the door and out of the vehicle. They practically flew up the stairs that led up to the house, and opened the door. They were practically vibrating with excitement as they scrambled through the house to find the others. They didn't even care that they appeared to be having a conversation about something at the moment. What they had done was so important.

"Guys, guys, I finally did it." They beamed excitedly, they sounded breathless, as they had been working in the heat and just ran into the house without sparing a moment to just walk. And that's when the overwhelming tiredness hit them, and they nearly stumbled as they tried to tell the others what was going on, "whoo, got a bit dizzy there for a moment. Give me a second." They spoke as they wordlessly went into the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water, and opened it. They practically inhaled the water, and they gave a satisfied aaaahhh, at finishing the cool drink, and they didn't care if they had spilled some on themselves or if they drink it like it was the last bottled water on earth. " I finally fixed the engine to an RV, I found a couple months back and have been secretly repairing and refurbishing for our usage and comfort. So we now have a working vehicle that can transport all of us without hassle - and not to mention, my baby is so beautiful and luxurious - it will bring you all to tears when you see how beautiful the inside of it is. "

"Now I may have spent a straight seventy-two hours on finalizing the fixes to the creation, and I don't remember the last time I've eaten. But other than that, the vehicle being finally completed is the important thing. " they said rambling as they closed the refrigerator door and to move closer to the group, " not to mention it took ages to find fuel to fill it up and extra for later on and then the tires were so hard to find but I managed to find a good couple tires for it. But enough of that, I think there's a better question at hand, " and they dangled the keys with the ladybug charm on it with a mischievous grin, "Who wants to go on a test drive with me?"

That's when they noticed mostly everyone was looking at their phone, and they had left theirs on the kitchen counter earlier, and so they decided to check it while waiting for people to want to join them in the RV. So they hopped up on the kitchen counter and sat on it, and picked up their phone - they noticed a text. " Hello, if this message has reached you , it means you've survived ." How dramatic they though as they rolled their eyes. " in Texas, their is a sanctuary for the living. Come find us and help us get rid of the undead." They narrowed their eyes and furrowed their brows, and they gave a soft scoff.

Bastien Labat // Male // 17 // Mentions: Tiras, Clovis, Catalina, Blake, JJ, Raiden, Aki, Louis

When the sun glinted off its golden hues, the light gleamed and danced away in joy. The divinity said to live in each thing must be strongest in this, because it seemed to glow from the inside. No hay-spun gold could match this color. Bastien had seen the sunset of the serengeti (well, a picture). He had seen the great wheatfields of Kansas (during the winter, but whatever). He had seen the volcanic, honeyed eyes of a predator (his cat Lars). But never in his life had he seen anything this gloriously golden.

How long had he been staring at this jar of fat? Fuck, it’s beautiful, he thought as forcefully as he could, trying to keep himself in his reverie. He wanted to be happy looking at this jar instead of thinking about something else - something worse. His brain was drifting again, though he was trying to bully it back into a state of ignorance. He loved this jar of fat. He could remember every bit of skillet grease, every baked turkey, every batch of bacon that had gone into it. He had spent the last - hour? - reliving every single one of those memories. It seemed he had exhausted that train of thought, though, and as he unwillingly resurfaced, it suddenly occurred to him that this was what losing your mind looked like. He quickly shoved the jar back onto the shelf. Right. He’d been organizing their kitchen. And it was looking spectacular, if he did say so himself. In fact, he had plenty of other household chores lined up. He had bedding to wash, vines to pry off of windows, things to dust, dishes to wash. He’d enjoyed looking at his jar of fat, but he simply didn’t have the time. If he submerged himself in a myriad of household chores, he wouldn’t have to think about . . . that thing he didn’t want to think about. Looking out the window over the kitchen sink, Bastien swore he could see the heatwaves rippling off the pavement of the front driveway. It was hot, it was humid, and he could just imagine how many mosquitoes were out there. The air was thick and lazy, and he could hear the murmur of the others in the next room, making him almost sleepy. Two or three of them he knew well. Two or three he was determined to get to know. A few he’d rather not know at all.

He turned to the cabinet to get a few tall glasses, and from the fridge he took the iced tea he had gone out of his way to get for them. Well, to have somebody else get for them. He spent a few minutes contemplating his iced tea strategy. Who was he going to give tea to? Who was he, under no circumstances, ever going to give anything to? Eventually he settled on six glasses and filled them with iced tea and ice. It was like when Bastien’s relatives used to come to visit, and he filled up their glasses for them. Bastien liked doing things the same as he had his whole life. If you never changed the things you did day after day, how could you say the world had changed? The world was the same. Bastien’s world was the same. So he kept telling himself. The iced tea was the same, and his old jar of fat, and the sweltering Louisiana heat, and the TV playing just a little bit too loud. Bastien drew the curtain further back and peered out the window, looking out towards the garage where he could barely make out a hint of curly white hair. Tiras. He absolutely could not stand them. He despised being confined in close quarters with them. And now they were out there baking their bones, and Bastien had to go out and give that idiot a glass of iced tea so they didn’t melt into a puddle of makeup and tattoo ink. Grumbling nonsense to himself, Bastien plucked one of the glasses off of the counter. He pushed open the screen door from the kitchen to the driveway.

As soon as Bastien stepped outside, he heard the sound of the engine and a laugh that sounded like the Joker on his fifth vodka. Tiras had been working on that RV since - well, since Bastien had shown up there, and probably before that. Bastien had seen very little of them in that time, except when he came out to try and get them to fulfill basic human needs. That had yet to work out. Now, judging by the laughter, Tiras was on the verge of some sort of mental breakdown. Which is why they needed iced tea. Bastien heard the engine turn off, and was about halfway across the lava-hot pavement when Tiras came tearing out of the garage like Godzilla was approaching. “Ti-” was all Bastien got before a ball of white hair and kinetic energy went whizzing past him. Bastien stood still for a minute, then turned slowly on his heel and walked back towards the kitchen door. That’s the thanks I get. As soon as he got in, he could hear Tiras’s voice in the next room, and he moved to look through the doorway into the living room. He was just in time to see Tiras sway on the spot, and he immediately moved towards them. But they were already headed straight for the fridge, where they grabbed a bottle of water. “Tiras-” Bastien started again, hoping to get a sentence out before Tiras zipped off again. And they were getting water all over the floor. Sighing, Bastien grabbed the kitchen towel hanging on the oven door and leaned down to wipe up the water.

Tiras was already back with the others, and Bastien was torn for a moment before he turned back to get his iced teas. He hugged them against his chest like a very delicate baby who could shatter into a million pieces if he dropped them. So just a baby, really. He started to head to the living room, then doubled back and fished a natchitoches meat pie out of the fridge. Barely keeping everything from falling out of his hands, he made his careful way to the living room. He set down all of the iced teas on the coffee table, and paused to listen to what everyone was talking about. He wasn’t sure he was even involved in this conversation, but he did have a few things to say about Texas. But first. Pointing at the iced teas, Bastien waited for a slight pause in the conversation to say, “Blake. Louis. Clovis. Catalina.” It was obviously instructions for who was to have iced tea (and who was not). He gave his voice an extra flash of charm when he mentioned the last two names. He made no mention of anyone who hadn’t been granted a beverage by him, though he did glance at Raiden, apparently surprised that they were out and socializing. He didn’t look at JJ, though he did feel tempted to glance at them just to show he wasn’t totally ignoring his friend. But he was ignoring him. That was the whole point. And Aki? To be frank, he had forgotten Aki existed. Bastien paused, then pointed to the glass he had poured for himself. “Akira.” That would help him get on Cat’s good side. He grabbed the last iced tea and strode over to Tiras with the tea in one hand and the meat pie in another. Looking over their shoulder, he read the text. He had left his own phone in his room, but he assumed - or hoped - he’d gotten a similar text. “You think everything’s sketchy,” he muttered under his breath. Then, out loud, he said, “I think Catalina and Clovis know how to handle this situation best.” Man, it was hard to suck up when he didn’t know which side they were on.

Glancing away from the group, he noticed the amount of sweat on Tiras. They were sweating like a fried monkey. He moved around in front of them and pushed the food and drink towards them. “Eat something.” They had been fighting about this for days, but Bastien had seen that little swoon of fatigue earlier, and he wasn’t backing down this time. Geez, Tiras was sweating a lot. Bastien immediately pressed the cold-beaded glass up against their forehead to cool them down. “It’s iced tea,” he said, like Tiras had never heard of iced tea before. He stayed there for a few moments then, feeling he might be holding the glass against their forehead a little too long, he plonked the glass into their hand. “I can’t believe I have to do this,” he said in utter indignation. Because he hated doing stuff like this for Tiras. He wanted it to be known to everyone in the general vicinity.

Louis || 17 || Male || He/Him || M: Bastien, Clovis, Deamon, Most (Ind)

~~~~

Looking at the small congregation of people across the room, Louis made the decision to go join them. Trudging lazily across the room, Louis' noticed a person come in. He couldn't really tell their gender, male, female? Non-binary? He really didn't know. They had stunning grey ish white hair, not unlike his own, and had some sort of sparkle in their eye. Louis figured, judging the expressions made by the rest of the crew, it was because they came bearing good news. Sliding his way next to a blond haired guy, who was a complete stranger to him, and Louis started listening into the conversation.

Then, another person came into the room. Louis actually knew him, they were acquainted, but Louis wasn't exactly sure how he felt about him. His name was Bastien, if he remembered correctly. Louis carefully looked at him, and saw he was carrying some iced tea. Bastien passed a glass to Louis, and he thanked him with a slight nod of his head, and a curt thanks. Louis took a sip of the iced tea, it was quite refreshing. Moisture was condensing on the side of the side of the cup, and Louis drew a smilie face on it, then turned it back to him.

A redhead, Clovis if he remembered correctly, was taking charge of the conversation. She seemed to be suggesting leaving for Texas quite soon, and, Louis couldn't agree more. He stepped out, still holding his iced tea, and took a sip. "I'll come with. Even if it's just you, me, and your little friend here. I'd rather risk it all for safety, then stay here and suffer." In saying that, Louis stepped next to Clovis' unknown friend, and stayed there, showing his opinion clearly.

Looking down at Clovis' little friend, he thought he looked quite weak compared to his sister. I doubt he'd last without his sister. Probably be gone within a day. Still, it's probably a good idea to make friends, even if they only last a few weeks. "Hey!" Louis said to the boy. "What's your name?" Then it occurred to him how he was dressed right now. His track pants were a darkish green, and he was wearing a white stained singlet, and that definitely exposed more muscle than normal, that's for sure. His boots were also quite intimidating, all things considered. They were brown, custom fit doc Martin combat boots. Though, it's not like Louis had much to wear. In total, Louis had about 2 pairs of pants and 3 shirts, along with a jersey.

Checking his bag was still on his back, he took out his pocket knife. He started fiddling with it, flicking it around. It was like a stress reliever, almost. Well, good thing he still had his wraps on, even though they were stained and dirty, these white bandages had saved him from many cuts and scrapes over the years. Flicking it up and around, the knife sliced a bit of stray fabric off his wraps. Deciding he should put the knife away, he instead got out his pen and diary, and started writing.

Well, for the most part today was uneventful. Not until 4:28pm, where we all got the text. That was dramatic. Anyways. Apparently we are all going to Texas now, as, this person fixed the RV. I'll update you all later tonight or tomorrow.
4:54pm.

He folded his diary back up, and focused back on the conversation, hoping they would leave soon.

William Blake Carter

18 [] Male [] Mentions: Clovis [Directly; Briefly], Tiras and Bastien [Indirectly]

Blake's jaw clenched from the not so subtle verbal lashing, gray eyes unperturbed from her expression. He could simply feel the silent venom leaking from her words, but he cared not. Clovis could believe she was making herself out to be a badass, but really she was just being rude. Blake sighed, not really concerned with the redhead's words or her inner desires of protection… Not that he could have known. It was every man for himself.

Pursing his lips, Blake's expression grew pensive for a split second before saying in a flat tone, "... Like hell I am walking to-", but he was suddenly cut off as the door burst open and in came Tiras, ranting about an RV they had fixed up.

Blake had barely even caught half of what was said, they had been talking at a speed nigh on impossible to follow. Tiras' excitement was palpable, but Blake didn't speak up on the matter. Tiras was like the clouds, and mind you this comparison wasn't being made due to their hair. They just appeared, coming and going when they pleased, to Blake it was like seeing a cryptid.

Typically, Tiras was away tinkering with junk. They were rather handy in that regard, and Blake couldn't help but respect the skill… If only they understood moderation. It was apparent seeing them storm the fridge, commandeering a bottle of water and downing it quickly.

"When was the last time you had any water?", he murmured to himself … Tiras was drinking like it was the Civil War and the doctor said they had to saw their leg off… A frown grew on his face. Judging from the fact Blake hadn't seen Tiras in nearly three days, there was most likely his answer. They were stupidly stubborn… Most people in this group were. How were they still alive?...

Oh yeah.

Most of them simply had the brute force to compensate their stupidity.

A second figure entered, this time carrying a platter of drinks and pie.

Bastien.

He'd set the tray down on the table, saying something that Blake had waved off, barely listening to the boy.

Blake enjoyed tea, but now simply wasn't the time for niceties…

His focus was on one thing and one thing only. The world seemed to fade away as his eyes settled on the form of what currently was annoying him, Clovis. God, could he tell she was absolutely tickled that her idea was backed… By the most convenient fucking thing on the planet.

Curse Tiras' overzealous work ethic.

His gray eyes bore into her, his irritation apparent, but he didn't voice a thing. He had a theory as to how Clovis would react to Tiras' proclamation; Clovis was mostly predictable.

Clovis, after a moment of hesitation, took the whole reveal in stride, taking control of the situation in seconds.

"There it is!", he mentally beamed.

-

“If there’s no objections, I say we should pack our things and get on the move, quickly.”

-

Blake had heard a few other voices around him, but it was those words he keyed in on.

'We?'.

"Nobody even made any sort of agreement yet…", he grumbled, but he was certain no one heard him over the excitement of Tiras' latest creation.

Blake closed his eyes, releasing a long sigh.

He needed to be calm. To think rationally.

Clovis was always combative, she lorded over everything in attempts for control to better her situation… Not to mention the constant headache she brought. Blake was certain if he agreed to this trip, he'd probably end up smothering her with a pillow in her sleep… No way was Blake staying within thirty feet of her for longer than an hour willingly.

He almost laughed at the thought, but kept it contained.

He needed to make the best choice, not just for himself but for the promises he's made along the way.

'I will live, so all the pain I've seen means something in the end'.

But what choice would serve that goal better? Blake wasn't sure.

If he went with the group, he'd be stuck in close quarters with people he barely knows nor trusts as far as he could throw them… People who he knew were willing and capable of killing. Not to mention the fact they'd have to ration out supplies, and face all the dangers of the road.

If he stayed, he wasn't sure who would disagree with Clovis' decision… For all he knows, he'd be alone. Blake had lived alone nearly three months before meeting up with the group, and it was a constant uphill battle. He'd needed to fend for himself, scavenging and looting… And it was growing increasingly harder to find supplies in such a way. Most things worth while were already taken… Not to mention the ever increasing number of Undead in the area… He'd have to leave eventually.

It was that realization that struck him. It was a lose-lose situation regardless. He really didn't have a choice in the matter after all, and it frustrated him to no end. It was like a switch had been flipped, his calm demeanor dropped, as a frown grew on his face.

"Goddammit", he growls out, standing up and leaving for his room… He needed to pack and to think without prying eyes.