[OPEN] Best left for dead.

[connor crayze sykes]

Life and Death. A precarious balance of sorts and he wasn't exactly in the center of it anymore. Nah, more like tilted way past the halfway mark. And the heavier side of the blance was Mister Death himself. But death, Connor couldn't say he was afraid of. He'd experienced so much death in his life, it was bound to be something on his mind. His grandmother, whom had owned a farmhouse on the outskirts of the city--he used to go visit during the summers when everything was alright and break and train horses, enter a bunch of competitions--died unexpectedly of a stroke a few years back. He'd been shocked, but soon adjusted, his heart lying perminantely with his city home after that. A few days after her death, his grandfather had hari-karied, not willing to live on alone without her. True love? Perhaps. Connor knew brotherly love. He knew sisterly love and motherly love. But 'love' in his eyes, would only ever be a word. Because so many things overpowered it these days, and it was so overused.. Hate, however. That was a word he could relate to. Regret, anxiety, loss, hurt. Yeah, he knew those feelings well. Lived them everyday trapped behind the bars of his guilt and memories. The lock? His own heart. The key? He had no fucking clue. It had been lost somewhere in the wrath and abusive grip of his father, and now Connor could only wait for someone to choke it up, pehaps shout 'I found it!' and ultimately discover which lock it really fit into..scrape away the rust and untie the chains.. Free him at last..
If he didn't do it his own way first, that is.


That had all those thoughts had lost importance a week ago. A week and he was officially in Hell. Jonathan was a lost cause, he had no clue where his father might be. But his little sister Christy..? He could only hope she was alive..only hope-...
A shaky, disbelieving breath passed his lips. How had this happened at all?

He was as good as dead honestly. All of them were. But this-...this was crazy. if he didn't find more tranxene soon then he was in trouble. Adjusting the ratty backpack over his shoulder, the small kitten from within mewled, Connor trudging down the destroyed streets of Seattle. He coughed huskily, stumbling, and tensed at the crumble of rubble within an old alley. Swallowing his unease, Connor picked up the pace. He was too hungry, hadn't eaten much before the incident and now food was too scare. He'd already been near emaciated...already near dead...

So why was he still alive..?

"Bubba!"

Tensing, the teenage boy turned, a young, albino girl scampering towards him, her bleach blonde hair dusted with soot.

"Ch-Chris'..." He huffed as she hugged at his legs, crying softly into dirty and torn jeans.

He grimaced, absently touching at his stomach, feeling sick.

"What happened Connor.?" The young girl whispered, crouching to touch at the oozing, infected bite along Connor's ribs.. He groaned faintly. "Don't worry, c-c'mon Christy.." He turned to move on.

Connor was on the ground moments later however with a pained breath, his little sister left to scream out for help.

[ember winters]

Ember glanced up, eyes flicking up and down the ruined street. Blinking, she sat up straight. Had she just heard a cry for help? She bit down on her bottom lip, which was split, dried blood caking the thin flesh. She wanted to help if someone needed help, but...She needed to consider her own condition. Wincing, Ember brought a hand to her side, feeling the jagged slice that trailed up to her chest and down to her calf. Part of it was an accident, her father wasn't smart or sober enough to pull the broken beer bottle away when everything happened. But that didn't matter. He was still trying to hurt her.

Now he was crushed under the second floor and fallen roof of their house. Good fucking riddens.

So...She had her own problems. She couldn't possibly help anyone else. What could she do, anyway? She had no food, no medical supplies. Nothing except the clothes she wore, her switchblade and the loose bandages she had tried to fix her injury with. However, that voice lingered in her mind, and the longer she considered it the more she realized it sounded like a child's. Still gnawing on her lip, Ember stood, brushing her bangs out of her face as she stepped off the curb. Maybe now she wouldn't be wandering alone.

Who knew what was stalking these streets.

Swallowing hard, she turned the corner, doing her best to follow where the sound had echoed from. Eventually, after turning again, she stopped, catching sight of two figures. One had collapsed, and the other appeared to be a little girl. Stepping closer, their appearances became clearer, though Ember remained cautious.

[connor crayze sykes]

Christy whimpered in Connor's ear as the person approached, and she tugged desperately at her brother's hoodie. "Con..." She whispered, and he lifted his head from against the wall, looking warily over. It was just another person. "I-It's okay Christy.." He mumbled, hugging her close and running a hand through her pale, dirty hair. He touched at the bite in his side and grimaced, and again Christy was tugging on his hand. Connor brushed her away, body convulsing as he gagged. There was nothing to throw up, he hadn't eaten in nearly a week, before all of this had started. He was best left for dead, anyway. But a person...that meant Christy wouldn't be alone. Sonhe didn't even try and get up, even as Christy began to cry into his shoulder.

[ember winters]

Ember took a tiny step forward, watching the scene. The guy didn't look so good, and her heart went out to the young girl. Forcing her teeth away from her bottom lip, she walked on, drawing closer. "Hey...Are you all right?" she asked the guy, knowing it was an incredibly stupid question, but couldn't think of anything else to say. She kept a respectable distance, though, letting her eyes briefly trail up and down his body, taking in how awful he looked. Kneeling, she ignored the pain her own injury caused. She winced as she felt part of it reopen. Fuck. But that wasn't important at the moment.

[connor crayze sykes]

"F-fine," Connor slurred bitterly, knowing he needed help. Christy looked at the girl, and tried unzipping Connor's hoodie. He complained but it didn't stop her. She pulled it aside and lifted his shirt, showing the woman her brothers oozing side. The blood was dark, infection probably settling in. Connor groaned, gagging softly and turning his face away as Christy hugged him tight. He felt her lips on his feverish forehead, and rubbed her back gently, trying to calm her shaking.

[ember winters]

Ember flinched at his bitter tone, swallowing as she shook it off. She wouldn't exactly be friendly, either, if she was in his state. She silently watched as the girl moved his shirt up, revealing on of the worst injuries she'd even seen. Ember couldn't stop herself from gasping, putting her hand over her mouth. "Oh...My God. No, you're not fine." Swallowing, she moved back a bit, not wanting to leave the two when he was in such a state. "Is there anything I can do?" She moved back on her heals, biting back a sound of pain as the movement irritated her gash. She knew there wasn't much she could do, but maybe she could help him into one of the remaining buildings? It wouldn't be much better, but at least he wouldn't be leaning against a dirty wall out in the open.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor shrugged, his eyes pained. He was sick enough as was, knew he wouldn't last long without doctors or medication, knew he was dead eventually. But the bite made him feel sicker, and he just had to know Christy wouldn't be left alone when he was gone..
He swallowed, standing his little sister up, and shakily moving up against the wall until he was standing, leaning against it heavily.

[ember winters]

Ember nervously moved a little closer to him, offering her support. "Do you...umm...Need help?" She could feel her hoodie begin to stick to her chest and side, proving that the gash was bleeding through the poorly wrapped bandages. She menatally let out a string of curses, though remained silent so she could focus on the two figures in front of her. "Oh, I'm Ember, by the way," she said, figuring she'd at least introduce herself.

[connor crayze sykes]

"Do y-you?" He shot back, eyeing her side. He pushed away from the wall, stumbling weakly as he looked around. "Th-that's Christy," He mumbled, not offering his own name as he took the little girls hand. He couldn't stay on his feet long, fixing the ratty backpack over his shoulder. A mewl escaped it and he bit his lip. Christy seemed to spark at the sound. "I want Jas," She complained. "Not o-out h-here.."

[ember winters]

She shifted her oversized hoodie, shrugged. "I'll be okay." Ember didn't pry for his name, respecting that he didn't want to tell her. Her eyes flicked towards his backpack in sheer surprise when she heard the small cry. "You have a cat with you?" she asked in curiosity, wishing he would show her though realizing he most likely wouldn't. There was a hint of amazement in her tone. She didn't think anyone would be willing to save and carry around any sort of animal in a time like this. Most of the people she had come across in her life would have dumped the creature to fend of itself.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor shrugged absently. But he never would have left the helpless kitten, even if it risked meaning it would still die. He drew in a husky breath, stomach cramped. "We n-need..to find a ph-pharmacy.." He rasped, even if he really just needed rest. He limped down an alley warily, eyes flicking, tense, as he led them around the corner, searching for a shop. He needed medicine or he was better off dead by tomorrow. And kitten formula. And Christy needed food..

[ember winters]

Ember nodded, silently following, prepared to offer help again if it seemed like he needed it. She wasn't familiar with that part of the city, not that she would even be able to recognize it since it was so destroyed. Again she peeled her hoodie and shirt away from her bloodied skin, feeling how damp they were getting. She hoped whatever pharmacy they found, if they found one, would have bandages she could use, maybe painkillers, but that was more of a luxury than a necessity. She could deal with the pain. Reaching up, she wiped some sweat and dirt from her face, grimacing at the scapes and cuts that marked her fair skin. They were very minor, but a bit tender to touch. Still, she wasn't about to complain. To her, her injury was nothing compared to the guy's, whatever his name was.