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Neutral
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Hannah had noticed Grayson appearing again after a few long moments. The gun was still firm against her temple, her eyes unwavering from him as he approached them. She remained silent while he slung the rifle back over his shoulder. Whether it was because he was going to fuck her over and get her killed, or just as a show to not get her killed, she had no idea. But either way, her heart was pounding through her skull. Despite the budding fear coursing through her blood, her face remained calm, the only telltale sign of her fear being the wideness of her eyes. His voice was firm, he stood in front of her, making no attempt to help her out in the slightest. With a quiet grimace, her eyes flicked down to his hip, the pistol half visible from the waistband of his pants. Hannah looked back at him, his gaze unwavering from the man behind her. Taking a slow breath, she closed her eyes for a moment before she made her move. Leaning forward, she slid her ankle around the man’s leg, her hand snatching the gun from Grayson as she did so. Tugging on her hold on his leg, she ripped his feet out from under him. Holding the pistol towards him, she held his eye contact with the man, standing in between him and Grayson. “I guarantee I have better aim than you do, dick” she muttered. The man didn’t bother responding, the loud noise filling the space around them indicating her of the two shots he managed to fire before her finger tugged on her own trigger. Hannah felt the blood down her side, watching the man crumple to the ground in front of her as she hit her mark, the adrenaline beginning to subside causing the pain to come rushing through he body. Knees buckling, she dropped to the ground, hand pressed to her ribs as the thick blood spilled over her fingers. “Grayson-” was all she muttered out before her vision began to spin, her breath coming in in rough heaves. |
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Lightbringer
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While Gray had been attempted to shoot the man, he let the entire scenario pan out for itself. He knew, deep down, Hannah was smart enough to come up with something. The man holding her was not going to give up so easily, and while Gray was aware of the upper-hand the man and his group had, this place possibly being their home turf and all, Grayson knew that Hannah was gonna have to get creative. He could too, but where was the fun in that?
Gray watched Hannah's eyes flicker to the waistband of his pants where his gun sat comfortably. He moved forwards in the slightest, allowing for every opportunity that Hannah could take it and use it. He watched as Hannah had skillfully taken the man down and grabbed Gray's gun, causing him to aim the rifle down at him. The man's eyes were filled with a lust like no other, and in a way, it was intimidating.
Grayson had stood behind Hannah at this point, her being the barrier between him and simply smashing the man's head in with the butt of his rifle, but instead of doing so, he stood. And he stood. His world went quiet for a moment before the sound of two gunshots made his ears ring. He blinked, feeling as though everything had been slowed down for this specific moment.
Grayson's eyebrows raised, his eyes first landing on the man who was dead, but in front of him was a half-conscious Hannah who he could barely recognize. She was weak. And all he could hear was the name that his parents had gave him at birth. Was this Gray's fault? He could've just killed the man long before and none of this would be happening right now.
Dropping the rifle to the side, Grayson got a hold of Hannah, propping her up on his bent knee. "Hey, stay with me," he hummed softly. The blood from her side eventually stained his shirt. "I know damn well a bullet isn't gonna be the thing to take you out," he muttered, though she could probably still hear him.
Grayson had positioned her into a more comfortable spot, having dragged her into the inside of an abandoned building. He made a makeshift bed with each of their packs and an extra jacket he possessed, and soon, he was holding an old rag over the bullet wound. "You're one lucky bitch, you know that?" Grayson chuckled, not even sure if she was still conscious at this point. "You've got an exit wound," he smiled uncomfortably. He held down as much pressure with the rag as possible, but the blood had begun to over saturate the cloth that it seemed pointless.
"Fuck it," he muttered, taking off his shirt and ripping the sleeves off. "You're lucky I even want to keep you around," Grayson muttered softly to himself, causing him to chuckle through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw as he slipped his shirt on back over his head, now with no sleeves. Using the extra cloth, he held it on as tight as he could.
Only he could hope that his medical background, which was barely anything, would work. |
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Neutral
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Moments before her vision went dark, Hannah felt hands pulling her up to lean against him, a quiet voice in her ear before she faded out of consciousness, her body gently slumping against him. When her eyes finally opened again, she found herself on her back. An uncomfortable bumpy feeling under her, pain shooting through her side causing her to cry out. The pressure of cloth being pressed against the source of the pain. Hannah’s eyes flicked down to the burning sensation on her lower abdomen. Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked up to whee Grayson sat next to her, pressing what looked like the sleeves of his shirt against the wound. “Why is your shirt so fucked? You look ridiculous” she muttered out, her voice quiet as she hissed in pain from the effort. The pain in her body was almost too distracting to notice his expression close to concern. Almost. Frowning, she froze, hesitating for a moment, before moving her hand to hold the blood-soaked cloth, slapping his out of the way. “Why did you help me?”
Hannah stared at him, struggling to hide her confusion. He had absolutely no reason to help her, with plenty of reasons to kill her instead, or at the very least just leave her for dead. She’d tried to kill him numerous times, and very vividly told him how much she wanted him dead and that she was only there for convience. This is was for her own gain, he was gaining nothing out of this. Why? Was the only thing that was she heard him her head? Why was he helping her? |
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Lightbringer
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Grayson watched as Hannah propped herself up with her elbows, in which he made eye contact. He looked back down at the area where she had been shot, praying that just maybe Grayson could save her. Maybe it was a form of redemption he had been seeking, or maybe it was something else and that deep down he knew that Grayson needed Hannah in order to kill the motherfucker who killed his wife. Maybe it was that he genuinely cared about her. Maybe it was just the good of his heart.
Or it was for her.
"Even bleeding out you're still running your suck," Grayson shot back, though his tone was sarcastic rather than rude and dark. He mumbled a few words under his breath after Hannah smacked his hand away, sending her a glare. Rummaging through his pack again, he found tape. He grabbed it, ripping a few pieces off of the roll, and taped down the cloths to Hannah's skin. He then found a few pills, and after observing the small orange bottle they were in, he read that they were painkillers, but who knew if that was even true.
Regardless, Grayson dumped two out of the six in the bottle into his hand. "Take them," he held his hand out, the pills resting comfortably in the palm of his hand.
Grayson looked back up at Hannah.
Why did you help me?
"Because as much as I might hate you, I have this sweet little thing for wanting to save people's lives, regardless of if you piss me off or not. Be thankful," he stated. Part of that was true. Before all of this, before dead people roamed the earth and before everyone turned on everyone, Grayson and his friends on the ranch he used to work at made a deal that no matter what, no matter how much someone infuriates you or gives you a reason to not like them, you stick together. They're your family, therefore you do not stop being loyal.
"Plus you had your own little mission, remember? Here for convenience. It'd be real shitty if you didn't get whatever it is you want done," Grayson finally added. |
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Neutral
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Hannah scoffed, wincing as he taped over the fabric pressed against her wound. Her fingers hesitantly lifting off. She took the pills gratefully, gently swallowing them with a childish face at the gross taste of the medication. “If you ask me, I think that’s all a load of bullshit. i think that you may be starting to care for me. you could’ve easily left me there to die. you don’t need me on your stupid journey to avenge your whore” she teased him, struggling to hold a strong composure over the pain still shooting through her body when she spoke. Hannah kept her stare on his face when she finished speaking, curious to see how he was going to respond. Of course she didn’t actually think he thought of her as a friend. She was still internally thanking whoever she could that he did help her. It was clear that he is a much better person than she was, if the roles were reversed, she likely would have stripped him of the weapons he had and taken off. Hannah wasn’t proud of this, but it was the truth. “Anyway, my dear friend, the sun is setting soon and we really shouldn’t be out in the open much longer” she muttered, half to herself than to him. Batting at his hands, she waited for him to back up a little, enough to push her hands against the ground, pulling herself up. With a bitten down scream, she cried out in pain, fresh blood soaking into the fabric. “Or maybe not” |
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Lightbringer
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Grayson shook his head, muttering a few words under his breath. "And you could've easily stayed back at camp, but you decided to come anyway." Grayson shifted his weight, his posture slightly uneven with the position of his legs - one up and one down, leaning against the wall for support. "Speaking of which, why did you come? Oh, right. You had your own mission. I didn't ask for you to be here, Hannah," Grayson added quickly before she could get any other words in.
That was it. He felt an obligation. Hannah didn't need to come. Nobody required her to, maybe except for Elijah, though he knew their circumstances long before they left. Grayson sat in though for a moment. Maybe it was the fact that Hannah, although she was a bitch, had been growing on him. Or maybe it was that because she came along willingly, even if it wasn't for the same reason, there was a sort of responsibility he had now. Grayson shot her a quick glance before shaking his head.
She would've wanted him to help her.
"You can't fucking move, dumbass," he teased, watching her struggle to rise to her feet, in which she stood there, almost defeated looking. "It doesn't even look like there's anywhere safe for miles. Best we can do is just lie low here," Grayson suggested. "Or, you know, you can bleed out and die," he muttered, though he was sure his sarcastic comment was still heavily audible. |
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Neutral
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Hannah scoffed as he spoke. It didn’t matter that she had her own intentions for coming along with him, the fact didn’t change, he saved her life and had no reason to. It could be her stubbornness telling her that, but she believed it and she knew without a doubt he wouldn’t be hearing the last of this for a long time. This was something she could use to her advantage, and she absolutely going to use. She instead just gently lied back down on the makeshift bed he’d made out of their things. “So we stay here” she muttered in agreement. Hannah brought her hands together on her lower stomach, fiddling with her nails. “So uh, what’s your favourite colour?” she asked calmly, turning her head to face him. If they were stuck on their own for the night, her mostly unable to move, she needed something to fill the awkward silence. It shouldn’t be surprising to her that she really doesn’t know anything about Grayson. They quite literally met like two days prior, had about two conversations with one another and then they were here. “Oh me? Thank you so much for asking” she continued sarcastically, using the excuse to speak, even if he wasn’t listening.
“My favourtie colour is red. Both of my parents are dead. Oh, that rhymes. Funny. They turned in the first wave, just after food began to grow scarce. I uh-, couldn’t kill them myself, so Elijah did. I didn’t know this until months later, after I helped Elijah start his little group of survivors” she spoke out loud, getting more into detail than she intended to. With a laugh, she stared up at the darkening sky, bright moonlight cast over them. “Speak a word of that to anyone and I swear to god I will gut you from the inside, out” |
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Fall 
Day Weather: 
Fog
