alex danvers
5 bears in a trenchcoat
now they're outside, ready to bust
it looks like you might be one of us
it looks like you might be one of us
-
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Futuristic > > > all my friends are heathens
- Thread starter alex danvers
- Start date
digital witness
isn't that a little derivative?
ＴxxＥxxＳxxＳ
────── ♛ ──────
place of birth : richmond, virginia
current residence : pittsburgh, pennsylvania
age & birthdate : 34 years old, february 19th
height & weight : 5'7" , 120 pounds
family : daughter (ruth), age 6; deceased
group : no affiliation, travels alone
temperament : phlegmatic
─────────────────────────────────────────────────
Brief History : Born in Richmond, Virginia to Esmai and William, Tess' childhood was largely shaped by the war. She was only five years old when the bombs dropped and the Zones went into effect. Her father died first; he was killed in one of the early raids, fired upon when he refused entry to the armed guards who demanded to search their home for weapons and anti-government propaganda. Their house was next. Rounded up into the streets, the citizens of their zone were placed into assigned group housing so they could easily be kept track of while the rest of the city was boarded off.
Tess kept to herself during her time in the zone, working long hours and occasionally partaking in illegal bartering in hopes of getting her hands on more food ration cards for her mother, whose health was rapidly declining. However, even her best efforts could not save her and in the winter of Tess' twentieth year, her mother passed away, leaving her completely alone.
At 27 years old, Tess began showing signs of pregnancy. Conceived through undesirable means after being caught by one of the guards out after curfew, Ruth still managed to serve as the light in Tess' life. She gave her hope. Something that she thought she'd lost for good after the death of both of her parents.
The riots started when Ruth was four years old. Ration cards were all but nonexistent and after news that the guards had been smuggling food for themselves made it to the citizens, the uprising began. Tess remained uninvolved, unwilling to put herself in harm's way and risk leaving Ruth without a mother, but when the army was overthrown and weapons began to fall into the hands of starving, irrational citizens who were willing to do and take whatever it took to survive, she had no choice but to take her daughter and run.
They survived for two years on their own. They found a small cottage a fair distance away from the city and survived on what they could gather from the surrounding area. Ruth was five years old when she started showing signs of radiation poisoning. With the zones (the only places with the lowest levels of radiation) being swarmed with hunters, they had no choice but to remain on the outskirts and Tess had to watch as even her hardest efforts did nothing to alleviate her daughter's suffering. Ruth died when she was six years old. Her body is buried under an oak tree near the cottage where they lived.
Tess has been traveling on her own ever since, but has remained in the same area where Ruth died, and can often be found sitting under the towering oak tree for hours at a time.
Tess kept to herself during her time in the zone, working long hours and occasionally partaking in illegal bartering in hopes of getting her hands on more food ration cards for her mother, whose health was rapidly declining. However, even her best efforts could not save her and in the winter of Tess' twentieth year, her mother passed away, leaving her completely alone.
At 27 years old, Tess began showing signs of pregnancy. Conceived through undesirable means after being caught by one of the guards out after curfew, Ruth still managed to serve as the light in Tess' life. She gave her hope. Something that she thought she'd lost for good after the death of both of her parents.
The riots started when Ruth was four years old. Ration cards were all but nonexistent and after news that the guards had been smuggling food for themselves made it to the citizens, the uprising began. Tess remained uninvolved, unwilling to put herself in harm's way and risk leaving Ruth without a mother, but when the army was overthrown and weapons began to fall into the hands of starving, irrational citizens who were willing to do and take whatever it took to survive, she had no choice but to take her daughter and run.
They survived for two years on their own. They found a small cottage a fair distance away from the city and survived on what they could gather from the surrounding area. Ruth was five years old when she started showing signs of radiation poisoning. With the zones (the only places with the lowest levels of radiation) being swarmed with hunters, they had no choice but to remain on the outskirts and Tess had to watch as even her hardest efforts did nothing to alleviate her daughter's suffering. Ruth died when she was six years old. Her body is buried under an oak tree near the cottage where they lived.
Tess has been traveling on her own ever since, but has remained in the same area where Ruth died, and can often be found sitting under the towering oak tree for hours at a time.
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alex danvers
5 bears in a trenchcoat
x
x
x
"sheppard" - 29 - rogue hunter - 5'6" - 112 lbs
+ clear-headed; focused; genuine; loyal
- amoral; blunt; hostile; opportunistic
x
x
"sheppard" - 29 - rogue hunter - 5'6" - 112 lbs
+ clear-headed; focused; genuine; loyal
- amoral; blunt; hostile; opportunistic
Last edited:
alex danvers
5 bears in a trenchcoat
S x H x E x P x P x A x R x D
─────────────────────
you lying so low in the weeds
i bet you're gonna ambush me
you'd have me down, down, down,
down on my knees
wouldn't you, barracuda?
─────────────────────
ｗｏｒｄxxｃｏｕｎｔ ;; 552
“Listen, alright? They’re coming for us. You’ve gotta run.”
“But- I don’t understand… what-”
“I don’t need you to understand right now, Shep. You’ve gotta go, now!” Her brother’s vague features drifted in front of her, his expression shifting into something of urgency with a bout of fear underneath. Then there was a pounding at the door. “Shep, go! Now!”
Her wild eyes attempted to gauge the situation, to understand what it was that was happening – but before she could so much as stir from where she’d been sitting on the edge of the worn mattress, the wood of the door was cracking underneath the pounding. “Quarantine guards, open the door! Booker Sheppard, you’re under arrest!”
Her brother’s eyes met hers, and then flicked to the back door of the condo. “Go!”
She set two steps towards the back, before the door was cracking open. Three guards seized Booker, pulling his hands roughly behind his back and working him to the ground. “Get the girl!” She couldn’t fight against their hold, but she struggled. “Shep! Shep!” Her eyes, frantically searching around for what could help her, found her brother’s, and her precarious situation seemed to strengthen him – he easily ripped himself away from the guards that were holding him down.
Then there was a gunshot. And screams from outside. Footsteps, and she was alone.
“Booker… Booker, please. Don’t do this to me.”
“Shep… you’ve gotta run.”
She awoke in a pool of her own sweat, the freezing cold from outside biting into her damp skin as she’d unconsciously wriggled out from under her thin blanket. The nightmares had persisted for years now, and she was used to not sleeping more than two or three hours each night; usually staying awake to listen to the wolves’ howls outside or to remain alert in case of danger. She’d been on the road by herself, and traveling was dangerous above all else; if the hunting parties that hid away and lured in strangers didn’t get you, the mutant animals did.
But holed up in a broken-down treehouse in someone’s backyard, Sheppard didn’t have to fear for anything. She kept her gun on her at all times, even when she was asleep, and the wolves couldn’t make it up there. And those slimy bastards that she called her party wouldn’t dare to follow her here after what she’d done to some of their friends.
She rose early, deciding to start the longer trek towards the east, where the remains of a city still rose from the infertile, poisonous soil. Months ago, she’d decided that that was her best shot; remaining holed up on the edge somewhere, where she could both hunt non-mutants and gather what she needed to live, while staying out of sight. She wasn’t sure where exactly she was going to find it, but that was going to be addressed when she made it approximately where she was told it was.
It was around midday when she stumbled upon a cabin with a large tree next to it. It seemed somewhat kept up, and she drew her gun as she moved closer, only to find that it was empty. Remaining wary of her surroundings, she entered, searching thoroughly but finding virtually nothing of value, and decided to hide nearby in case its inhabitants returned.
“But- I don’t understand… what-”
“I don’t need you to understand right now, Shep. You’ve gotta go, now!” Her brother’s vague features drifted in front of her, his expression shifting into something of urgency with a bout of fear underneath. Then there was a pounding at the door. “Shep, go! Now!”
Her wild eyes attempted to gauge the situation, to understand what it was that was happening – but before she could so much as stir from where she’d been sitting on the edge of the worn mattress, the wood of the door was cracking underneath the pounding. “Quarantine guards, open the door! Booker Sheppard, you’re under arrest!”
Her brother’s eyes met hers, and then flicked to the back door of the condo. “Go!”
She set two steps towards the back, before the door was cracking open. Three guards seized Booker, pulling his hands roughly behind his back and working him to the ground. “Get the girl!” She couldn’t fight against their hold, but she struggled. “Shep! Shep!” Her eyes, frantically searching around for what could help her, found her brother’s, and her precarious situation seemed to strengthen him – he easily ripped himself away from the guards that were holding him down.
Then there was a gunshot. And screams from outside. Footsteps, and she was alone.
“Booker… Booker, please. Don’t do this to me.”
“Shep… you’ve gotta run.”
She awoke in a pool of her own sweat, the freezing cold from outside biting into her damp skin as she’d unconsciously wriggled out from under her thin blanket. The nightmares had persisted for years now, and she was used to not sleeping more than two or three hours each night; usually staying awake to listen to the wolves’ howls outside or to remain alert in case of danger. She’d been on the road by herself, and traveling was dangerous above all else; if the hunting parties that hid away and lured in strangers didn’t get you, the mutant animals did.
But holed up in a broken-down treehouse in someone’s backyard, Sheppard didn’t have to fear for anything. She kept her gun on her at all times, even when she was asleep, and the wolves couldn’t make it up there. And those slimy bastards that she called her party wouldn’t dare to follow her here after what she’d done to some of their friends.
She rose early, deciding to start the longer trek towards the east, where the remains of a city still rose from the infertile, poisonous soil. Months ago, she’d decided that that was her best shot; remaining holed up on the edge somewhere, where she could both hunt non-mutants and gather what she needed to live, while staying out of sight. She wasn’t sure where exactly she was going to find it, but that was going to be addressed when she made it approximately where she was told it was.
It was around midday when she stumbled upon a cabin with a large tree next to it. It seemed somewhat kept up, and she drew her gun as she moved closer, only to find that it was empty. Remaining wary of her surroundings, she entered, searching thoroughly but finding virtually nothing of value, and decided to hide nearby in case its inhabitants returned.
digital witness
isn't that a little derivative?
ＴxxxxxxＥxxxxxxＳxxxxxxＳ
─────────────────────
you may throw your rock and hide your hand
working in the dark against your fellow man
but as sure as god made black and white
what's down in the dark will be brought to the light
─────────────────────
ｗｏｒｄxxｃｏｕｎｔ ;; 473
The pad of Tess' thumb worked calmly over the smooth, touch-worn wooden surface of the figurine that she held deep within the safety of her pocket. It was a small thing, no bigger than the palm of her hand, but its value was immense; the hands that had clung to it before her had long since gone cold, an undeserving victim who had withered at the hands of an unforgiving world, and had left it to her. It was all she had left. It was all that mattered.
The sun-dried grass crunched quietly beneath the soles of her shoes; the only other sound the gentle stirring of the wind as it blew out over the flat, expansive stretch of withered land. She often ventured away from the cottage in search of supplies, gathering only what she needed and placing it into her tattered backpack for safekeeping; always returning home before nightfall cast its shadow over the land and the vile, beastly byproducts of the war emerged from their lairs to start their hunt. She could hear their howls from the forests, concealed behind the walls of trees, but had convinced herself that as long as the daylight was on her side, she was safe. After all, if she could see them coming she could run.
Her gatherings from the day were meek: a strip of medical tape that she used to repair the splintered hilt of her knife, a rusted can of peaches, and a small section of copper wiring that she'd pulled from a decrepit-looking car's stereo; an essential find that she hoped might bring her one step closer to fixing the radio that she'd already spent months repairing. It was a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, if she got it up and running she could find others like her. There had to be someone out there, right? Someone who didn't seek to kill her.
She'd had someone like that once. A bright-eyed little girl who she'd loved with a ferocity that went deeper than herself, but she'd lost her, and she'd remained alone ever since.
Tess' gaze automatically pulled toward the enormous oak tree when the cottage came into view. She didn't feel the sickening twisting in her stomach when she looked at it anymore; instead a gentle longing had taken its place, beckoning her closer. She didn't stop for long, bending at the knees to straighten the crooked wooden cross that she'd erected beside the tree's trunk before she lifted herself back to her full height and stepped toward the house.
She slung her backpack onto the table, its contents hitting the wooden surface with a notable thud, and sighed as she placed her hands flat on the kitchen counter. She leaned forward slightly, pinching her eyes closed as the weight of the day came rolling off of her.
The sun-dried grass crunched quietly beneath the soles of her shoes; the only other sound the gentle stirring of the wind as it blew out over the flat, expansive stretch of withered land. She often ventured away from the cottage in search of supplies, gathering only what she needed and placing it into her tattered backpack for safekeeping; always returning home before nightfall cast its shadow over the land and the vile, beastly byproducts of the war emerged from their lairs to start their hunt. She could hear their howls from the forests, concealed behind the walls of trees, but had convinced herself that as long as the daylight was on her side, she was safe. After all, if she could see them coming she could run.
Her gatherings from the day were meek: a strip of medical tape that she used to repair the splintered hilt of her knife, a rusted can of peaches, and a small section of copper wiring that she'd pulled from a decrepit-looking car's stereo; an essential find that she hoped might bring her one step closer to fixing the radio that she'd already spent months repairing. It was a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, if she got it up and running she could find others like her. There had to be someone out there, right? Someone who didn't seek to kill her.
She'd had someone like that once. A bright-eyed little girl who she'd loved with a ferocity that went deeper than herself, but she'd lost her, and she'd remained alone ever since.
Tess' gaze automatically pulled toward the enormous oak tree when the cottage came into view. She didn't feel the sickening twisting in her stomach when she looked at it anymore; instead a gentle longing had taken its place, beckoning her closer. She didn't stop for long, bending at the knees to straighten the crooked wooden cross that she'd erected beside the tree's trunk before she lifted herself back to her full height and stepped toward the house.
She slung her backpack onto the table, its contents hitting the wooden surface with a notable thud, and sighed as she placed her hands flat on the kitchen counter. She leaned forward slightly, pinching her eyes closed as the weight of the day came rolling off of her.
alex danvers
5 bears in a trenchcoat
S x H x E x P x P x A x R x D
─────────────────────
you lying so low in the weeds
i bet you're gonna ambush me
you'd have me down, down, down,
down on my knees
wouldn't you, barracuda?
─────────────────────
ｗｏｒｄxxｃｏｕｎｔ ; 402
It took a number of hours before anything moved in Sheppard’s vicinity; and when it did, it was a stray dog that scampered off the moment it noticed her. Shep was about to give up, to get up and continue walking before it got too dark and she’d have to find shelter from the monstrosities that stirred at night, when there were quiet footsteps. The crunching of dried grass underneath old soles, and it was only a few minutes before the figure came into sight.
A woman, not much older than Sheppard; she didn’t seem to be armed. Sheppard held her breath as she moved underneath the tree she was hiding in to straighten out a small wooden cross that Shep hadn’t noticed. Some people might’ve felt sympathy for the situation, but Shep had taught herself not to feel bad for anything or anyone she hunted – they were only a means to an end, and that end was that she would live longer herself.
Either way, the woman seemed to be an easy target. Her clothes were loose around her frame, and Shep’s eyes scanned the surroundings thoroughly when she disappeared into the shack, making sure the dark-haired woman didn’t have company. She holed up for a few minutes longer, simply making sure that the coast was clear, before lowering herself out of the tree, her feet hitting the ground almost soundlessly. She crouched, picking the softer patches of dried grass and weeds to step on as to not make any noise, and creeped closer to the shack.
The door was left just open, and she could see the woman through the crack, standing in front of the table with her back to the slit. Sheppard soundlessly pulled her gun from the holster on her thigh, remaining low as she pulled it close to her chest and breathing in deep a few times. Then she straightened out, kicked the door open, and stepped in, gun pointed at the brunette.
“Put down the knife.” Her gaze moved to the old, dingy blade the other woman was holding, then wordlessly dropped down to the table in a gesture for her to drop it. “Don’t move,” Shep’s gun remained pointed at her, even when she bent down and picked up the bag that she’d dropped on the table, turning it upside down and going over the contents, temporarily distracted from what her victim was doing.
A woman, not much older than Sheppard; she didn’t seem to be armed. Sheppard held her breath as she moved underneath the tree she was hiding in to straighten out a small wooden cross that Shep hadn’t noticed. Some people might’ve felt sympathy for the situation, but Shep had taught herself not to feel bad for anything or anyone she hunted – they were only a means to an end, and that end was that she would live longer herself.
Either way, the woman seemed to be an easy target. Her clothes were loose around her frame, and Shep’s eyes scanned the surroundings thoroughly when she disappeared into the shack, making sure the dark-haired woman didn’t have company. She holed up for a few minutes longer, simply making sure that the coast was clear, before lowering herself out of the tree, her feet hitting the ground almost soundlessly. She crouched, picking the softer patches of dried grass and weeds to step on as to not make any noise, and creeped closer to the shack.
The door was left just open, and she could see the woman through the crack, standing in front of the table with her back to the slit. Sheppard soundlessly pulled her gun from the holster on her thigh, remaining low as she pulled it close to her chest and breathing in deep a few times. Then she straightened out, kicked the door open, and stepped in, gun pointed at the brunette.
“Put down the knife.” Her gaze moved to the old, dingy blade the other woman was holding, then wordlessly dropped down to the table in a gesture for her to drop it. “Don’t move,” Shep’s gun remained pointed at her, even when she bent down and picked up the bag that she’d dropped on the table, turning it upside down and going over the contents, temporarily distracted from what her victim was doing.
digital witness
isn't that a little derivative?
ＴxxxxxxＥxxxxxxＳxxxxxxＳ
─────────────────────
you may throw your rock and hide your hand
working in the dark against your fellow man
but as sure as god made black and white
what's down in the dark will be brought to the light
─────────────────────
ｗｏｒｄxxｃｏｕｎｔ ;; 556
Tess' aching muscles had only just begun to relax when there was a kick at the door, followed by the deafening slam of the wood against the adjacent wall. She sprung upright, immediately unsheathing the knife that she kept at her hip and gripping tightly at its hilt. The intruder was a woman; fair skinned with a dark head of hair framing her face, which Tess took little time to study as her eyes stared straight down the barrel of the gun that was being pointed at her. The stranger's finger hovered over the trigger and Tess complied, closely observing the woman's every movement as she silently held the knife out over the table and released her grip on its hilt, sending it clattering down against its wooden surface.
The intruder stepped forward; her weapon remained pointed at Tess, but her gaze had begun to wander. She watched as the woman unzipped her backpack and flipped it over, spilling its contents out over the table. It was now or never. Taking the woman's semi-distracted state as opportunity, Tess' fingers twitched. Her gaze flicked between the intruder and her weapon a number of times. She had to time it just right. The cost of failure was death, but it seemed that the alternative of obeying the stranger's orders would likely also result in her untimely demise when she realized that she had nothing of value to offer her, so she decided to take her chances.
With one last quiet breath, she lunged herself forward. Unaccustomed to hand-to-hand combat since her time outside of the zone, she grappled with the woman for a moment before she was able to disarm her and send the gun clattering across the floor. Her heart slammed inside of her chest as she remembered her knife on the table, and with one swift movement she curled her leg around the front of the other woman's calf and knocked her out of balance, fumbled to grab her knife from the table, and pressed its blade to her throat as she twisted her arm behind her back.
"On your knees." She breathed, pressing harder with the knife. "I said get on your fucking knees!" The woman silently complied, lowering herself onto the floor. Tess moved the blade away, but kept her weapon unsheathed as she hurried to gather the gun from the floor and promptly pointed it at its owner. "Try anything and I'll shoot." She threatened, hands near trembling as she cautiously began to step backward, hardly taking her eyes off of the stranger while she searched the space for something to restrain her with.
Spotting a tattered old t-shirt, Tess moved back into the kitchen and pulled off long strips with her free hand and teeth. She slid one of the wooden chairs to the woman, keeping her distance while she instructed her to sit down on it and put her hands behind her back. She used the fabric to tie her to the chair, stepping back only when she was satisfied with the strength of her knots.
Keeping the gun in her hand, but no longer aimed at the woman, she pulled another seat from the table and sat a few feet away from her. "Are you one of them?" Her gaze remained fixated, expression unwavering as she stared down her intruder.
The intruder stepped forward; her weapon remained pointed at Tess, but her gaze had begun to wander. She watched as the woman unzipped her backpack and flipped it over, spilling its contents out over the table. It was now or never. Taking the woman's semi-distracted state as opportunity, Tess' fingers twitched. Her gaze flicked between the intruder and her weapon a number of times. She had to time it just right. The cost of failure was death, but it seemed that the alternative of obeying the stranger's orders would likely also result in her untimely demise when she realized that she had nothing of value to offer her, so she decided to take her chances.
With one last quiet breath, she lunged herself forward. Unaccustomed to hand-to-hand combat since her time outside of the zone, she grappled with the woman for a moment before she was able to disarm her and send the gun clattering across the floor. Her heart slammed inside of her chest as she remembered her knife on the table, and with one swift movement she curled her leg around the front of the other woman's calf and knocked her out of balance, fumbled to grab her knife from the table, and pressed its blade to her throat as she twisted her arm behind her back.
"On your knees." She breathed, pressing harder with the knife. "I said get on your fucking knees!" The woman silently complied, lowering herself onto the floor. Tess moved the blade away, but kept her weapon unsheathed as she hurried to gather the gun from the floor and promptly pointed it at its owner. "Try anything and I'll shoot." She threatened, hands near trembling as she cautiously began to step backward, hardly taking her eyes off of the stranger while she searched the space for something to restrain her with.
Spotting a tattered old t-shirt, Tess moved back into the kitchen and pulled off long strips with her free hand and teeth. She slid one of the wooden chairs to the woman, keeping her distance while she instructed her to sit down on it and put her hands behind her back. She used the fabric to tie her to the chair, stepping back only when she was satisfied with the strength of her knots.
Keeping the gun in her hand, but no longer aimed at the woman, she pulled another seat from the table and sat a few feet away from her. "Are you one of them?" Her gaze remained fixated, expression unwavering as she stared down her intruder.
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