memoryaway

[memoryaway]

OPEN TO EVERYONE

the sun's already setting when jackie comes back to the motel. a part of them is telling them to just finish their day and go lie down—their body would surely be grateful for it—but it's way too nice out to just lock themselves away inside. they do stop by their room for the whole of thirty seconds to pick up a book and then they head to the back of the motel, to the seat at the edge of the pool with their name on it.

people come and go and jackie says hi in between paragraphs, speaks to anyone who's in the mood for some small talk. they invite them to hang out, settle for a longer chat—most of them politely decline but then eventually someone sticks around. the book is left forgotten to their side and the orange hue of the setting sun gets darker and colder while they talk.

" this place ? i feel like i'm transported back in time, " they say, a warm smile on their face as they're about to reminisce. " my family owned a farm, pretty big one and very much in the middle of nowhere. me and my siblings, the second we knew how to handle ourselves in the field, we were put to work and it's just ... i basically do the same things here, " jackie says with a chuckle. back then, the farm work was something they desperately wanted to escape. now they embrace it, welcome it even, which is—surprising, to say the least, considering how they're the last person to crave stability, routine and repetition. and their life in novac has been exactly that. " god knows what happened to it. i hope that at the very least someone found all my boks and took them. and read them. not used them for kindling. "

#laststart #jackie. #one thing about me is that i Will write an open starter<3 #assume they're friends !! #something something let's talk abt the past bc i don't wanna think about the future #also no need to match obv !!!!!!

[memoryaway]

" yeah, really, " aaron chuckles, a bunch of memories springing up in his brain at once. that time the skateboard he got from a friend for his birthday lost the front wheels, that time his cassette tape player jammed and a bunch of other instances of things breaking down—his father was always the one to take care of it. and then he got older, started making his own money and things became easily replaceable. " my dad usually took care of everything broken. and i wasn't too interested in learning, " he shrugs. truth be told, a lot of his practical skills have only been acquired over the last decade. the outbreak more or less forced him to take care of things he never had to. " i think there's even like a ... a charger that would work with this somewhere at the motel. there's this whole box with a bunch of chords. useless mostly. well—for the intended purpose, i guess. and i can ask around if someone knows their stuff and could help, " aaron offers. he feels personally invested now, he'll get that shit working even if it's the last thing he does. or, well, he'll try really hard at the very least. " and we'll save my wishful thinking and fake-confidence as the last resort. "

‘ really is, yeah. ’ the truth is, kaia didn't really care if it could be fixed or not, just that she could still keep it. it was one of the last few things her step-father had given her. he'd been gone for hours that day, which wasn't uncommon, but worried kaia all the same. when her step-father and neighbor returned, though, they came with enough loot to last them for months — found an abandoned middle-class house only a few miles down. the ipod shuffle was a treat, a reminder of sorts, that she could still enjoy things despite everything that's happened. ‘ anything? really? not even a broken barbie doll or something? ’ kaia had six younger siblings; fixing things was basicaly their part-time job.

#aaron. #aaron & kaia. #i know this is like. almost a month old so feel free to just ignore it dfslhglfdhs

[memoryaway]

" oh, sorry, didn't realize it's so late already," jackie says as they walk in — they should've, considering how dark it's got outside but they've been staying busy this entire day, time's just got away from them. not the first time it's happened. not the last time either. " was just looking for someone. they're probably back at the motel already anyway. will have to try my luck there. and—uh, no, thank you, " jackie politely declines the offer, pairs it with a warm smile. " i don't drink, better save it for someone who will actually enjoy it, " they explain. they try to remember the last time they've had any alcohol but it's genuinely been so long, they can't. " need any help? " jackie asks; they feel weird just standing there and even though they have a full day of work behind them, they can't stop themselves from offering to give a hand. "i'm in no rush."

location: the tap house

status: open

time: closing time

"we're closing," naveen says as he flips one of the chairs over and stacks them on the table. he hadn't been here for long but he felt like for once he should be getting back to business and working. it felt strange having a job like this again, at least it was kind of better than his previous job. he seemed to enjoy this one a bit more since it was something so new. he hasn't quite gotten use to this life yet, the stability that comes with it. "you lost? or uh-- can i help you with something? i got a fresh growler, of today's brew if you want to take something to go."

#jackie. #jackie & naveen.

[memoryaway]

" sounds disgusting, " aaron replies, lets his expression twist to match his words for a couple of seconds before its replaced by a soft smile. his fingers are circled around a glass of—something. he didn't exactly ask, just took the drink he got handed and went with it. " i've never actually seen one and you know what? i'm glad i haven't. out of sight, out of mind and all that, right? " he shrugs. he likes it like that—being here and having other people make sure that not even a single infected gets anywhere near. last time he's seen one? when he was still out there. and he's grateful for that. " how did it—i mean. did the bullets work ? did it die from that or did you ... i don't know, had to do something else ? "

location: the tap house

molly slams her glass down on the table and plops onto the empty seat beside her companion. ‘ guess what i just saw today, ’ she starts, eyes wide with excitement and buzzed on her own adrenaline. ‘ a fucking bloater. i haven't seen one in years, and i forgot how disgusting they look. the thing is like a goddamn mushroom balloon. ’ she throws the rest of her drink back casually, like she'd been discussing the weather and not the late stages of a grotesque infection. ‘ nearly emptied a whole mag on it. what a fucking waste. ’

#aaron. #aaron & molly.

[memoryaway]

aaron mixtape.

if this where the sun will set tell me there's a moon rise light my body with your love at least let my soul survive i need something to believe in i need something to have hope in

#eye contact tw #aaron — musings. #lasttask

[memoryaway]

jackie mixtape.

wind blow me, i know we've done our best follow the road, follow, dispossessed leave all we had, time for something new each town we meet, keep on passing through and each time you reach home, or feel distressed think of me heading west

#jackie — musings. #lasttask #me who's had jackie's playlist going since 2019: i've been waiting my whole life for this

[memoryaway]

" you bet, " jackie says, sends ronnie one of his brightest grins. " i'm almost convinced your pillow is actually my pillow. this one's a bit too flat, come on, did you swap them sometime ? " they ask, trying to fluff up said pillow for extra effect—failing, obviously, this thing is so used up, it's practically just a flat pillowcase but it's better than nothing. and he's joking too, of course, just playing along with what ronnie started. " come on, there's other mind-numbing things you could be doing around here, " they say but then come up short to finish their thought. " uh—most of these are probably physical labor so that's probably not a good alternative. whatever. "

they laugh at the question. " define stealing. i have a very loose approach to ownership. " they've always had, even more so since the outbreak—you sort of had to if you wanted to make it. " anyway, the answer is probably no. like i said, they're not that good so nobody ever likes fruit from that tree. " but they do. jackie, patron saint of the rejected, whatever it might be.

" anyway. everything alright ? " they ask; no particular event prompts the question, just routine. ronnie might be sick by it at this point but jackie's always asking her that, ready to fix things if the answer is no. " day's gone okay ? "

the day felt incredibly long ( and yet, ronnie still can't find it in themself to close their eyes and sleep their tiredness away ). every minute dragging into the longest hours ronnie has felt in a while. they don't know why some days feel longer than others, why their brain seems to feel more like quicksand than anything else ⸻ and all that ignorance will remain like so, avoiding the reasons why that decision comes with bliss.

their attention gets stolen by jackie. for a moment, ronnie allows herself to just enjoy the familiarity that exudes from him ( she cannot remember her life before jackie and she's not sure she wants to, even with the end of the world ). "were you hoping i wasn't in so you could steal my pillow?" he's never done that before but ronnie is nothing if not a joker. "times like these, i do miss just having tv so i could turn it on and turn my brain off," ronnie shares as she catches the apple, absentmindedly inspecting it. "did you steal these?" they tease.

#jackie. #jackie & ronnie.

[memoryaway]

the question drag aaron back to reality, too in his head and his eyes too stuck to the bottom of his ( first and only ) glass to even notice someone new walking into the tap room. he didn't even notice when it's become so deserted but when he realizes who's the person to join him, he tenses immediately—it's an involuntary response whenever rafael ( or another one of the distrustful types here ) is around. and it's not even as if aaron was guilty or hiding something. he's been perfectly behaved, just doing his thing and causing absolutely zero problems. still, it always feels like rafael is just trying to catch him red-handed. " uh—yeah. i just ... i don't know. spent the evening reminiscing about the before with someone so now i feel all kinds of weird, " he shrugs along with the answer; he's looking in rafael's general direction but avoiding eye contact. " am i out past curfew and you're rounding everyone up ? or are you here so late because you were hoping to be alone ? "

𝗳𝗼𝗿: @memoryaway (aaron)

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: the taproom

there's probably a fine line between suspicion and confirmation bias that raf hasn't been able to delicately walk in about a decade. he kind of feels bad for aaron in the most empathetic way he can these days. the guy always seemed one wrong move away from a breakdown which while unfortunate put him on edge in a way that made his spine go ramrod straight. hands tucked into the pockets of his faded denim jeans the last vestiges of life had cleared out of the tap room. grim-faced he approached aaron, heavy boots slapping against the concrete. "you doing okay buddy? it's getting kind of late."

#aaron. #aaron & rafael.

[memoryaway]

closed to: @bludhound ; desmond & your choice !

he wanders around town, looking for somewhere to be alone that isn't the motel, the four walls of his ( own, thank god ) room driving him insane. after years of sleeping rough, whenever and wherever, an actual bed feels like a gift he doesn't know what to do with. at least the mattress is so worn out that it almost feels as if he were sleeping on the ground. anything softer, he'd be dealing with insomnia.

he rounds the chapel, ready to drop down in its shadow; he assumed the view of the graveyard is not everyone's cup of tea so it would be deserted but no, there's a lone figure already there. but he doesn't turn around and flee the scene, he decides to make conversation instead. he's still getting to know people, an introduction here and there so people don't think he's a complete psycho who can't be trusted. not that he's been giving them a reason to think so—but still.

" hey , " he greets them, still a distance away so not to startle them with his sudden presence. he puts on a friendly face, the one he always uses when he needs people to find him non-threatening. " wasn't expecting anyone to be here. how is it going ? "

#desmond. #hope its ok!!!!!!

[memoryaway]

there's a certain limit to desmond's tolerance for being surrounded by people—borderline crowd tonight, it seems, he hasn't seen this many people at the tap house before. and said limit has been reached now. with the fact that he's relatively new to town and his desire to keep to himself, this is definitely not the place to be. without a proper friend to speak of, it's just way too overwhelming so he finishes his drink and leaves his spot by the bar, all in quick succession—out the door before anyone even notices he's gunning to leave. god forbid someone would try to get him to stick around.

" latter, yeah, " he mutters, hands shoved deep into his pockets. this much he can handle, beats the crowd inside. " still working or are you off the clock already ? "

OPEN STARTER | capping at five. ( 3 / 5 ) where: outside the tap house. when: late evening.

too often did quinn find themself here— seeking solace against worn out brick from a shift that seemingly never ends with one of their last cigarettes in hand for who knows how long. they didn't generally do well with trading to begin with (especially when you rarely have anything of value to offer), but if it got them a few sticks of tobacco, so be it. never did they think it would be a luxury to have such a thing. and now, the smoke settling in their lungs, it might be the only thing that keeps them sane. was it a smart choice to smoke during an apocalypse? no— but quinn has never been known for their intellect.

so you can imagine their annoyance when the front door to the tap house opens, causing them to stub the butt out and stuff it in their shirt pocket for later (you never know who might want to bum one off of you). turning their gaze to the newfound company, quinn listens to the bustling inside muffle once more when the door closes. "the party is certainly not out here." the closest thing to a greeting the other would get from them. "or have you had your fill for the night?"

#desmond. #desmond & quinn.

[memoryaway]

closed : @daisieswilted ; desmond & daisy

" how was it out there today ? " he asks them as they settle with their meals in the food hall. a part of him regrets not taking up a job like theirs, something that would get him out of the town every now and again. dangerous it may be, he's very used to it. but it's better to be safe than sorry, he figures—lay low, do something as nondescript as possible so nobody asks too many questions because god knows you won't like answering them. and there's a certain level of paranoia in play, des realizes that, but he can't help it. " found anything good ? "

#desmond. #desmond & daisy. #kinda winged it and assumed they're. friends?????ish????

[memoryaway]

Ada Limón, from “Lover”, The Hurting Kind

#aaron — musings. #jackie — musings.

[memoryaway]

the thing is, ellen bass / for example, mary oliver 

#jackie — musings.

[memoryaway]

he notices her struggling but doesn't move to help until she actually asks; des hops off the stool he's been sitting in for no more than three minutes, still without a drink in front of him—he's not sure if he wants it anymore, or if he even wanted one in the first place. this visit to the tap house is more for the people watching rather than drinking purposes. the alcohol isn't all that alluring anymore, especially here. he still doesn't trust anything or anyone here. chances are he never will.

" i got it, " he grabs hold of the crate and hauls it onto the bar top. it's heavier than it looks. " jesus, how much of that stuff's in there ? " he says; for once he's making conversation instead of cowering in the corner with his head down. " what is it, anyway ? "

- open - Location: The Tap House Large crate in hand, Bellamy used her shoulder to push open the heavy door that separated the "brewery" from the rest of the Tap House. Self reliance had always been something she'd practiced and as such she found it hard to ask for help, even as she almost toppled over with the weight of the crate. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath, as she struggled to lift up the latest stock onto the bar top. She tried again and barely managed to make any progress. She knew she'd overfilled the crate. Damn her hubris and lack of actual muscle. Sighing to herself, she turned to the nearest person and put on a apologetic grin - something that had always served her well during college. "A little help here?"

#desmond. #desmond & bellamy.

[memoryaway]

" real time capsule, huh, " aaron chuckles; he can't remember when was the last time he held something electronic in his hand, let alone something that worked. and surprisingly enough, he doesn't really find the lack annoying anymore. the priorities shift happened quite early—probably the second he realized for the first time that his near-dead cellphone wasn't going to be of much use anymore. there's maybe one thing he misses about it—all the pictures of his family. he'd love to see their faces once again, even if unmoving and just in the form of pixels. " maybe there's someone around who could get it to work ? at least one person here should know their way with electronics, right ? " he doesn't know, really, it's all just wishful thinking. " and if not then—there's always believing in your skills and ... trial and error, i guess ? never fixed anything in my life but there's always first time for everything. "

⸻⸻ ‘ 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩, 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 even know half the songs on it, ’ kaia says. it was mostly a couple of songs from the 90s they had recognized from their mother's cassettes and some songs in spanish that they don't know a word of. ‘ might be broken, though. i can't turn the volume up anymore. ’

#aaron. #aaron & kaia.

[memoryaway]

CLOSED : @painendured ; desmond & rian

he doesn't like getting anywhere near the out—he's being paranoid, obviously, he can just as easily run into rian anywhere in novac but there's a switch in his head he just can't flip. so when he gets to the out, he quietly hopes that it's not her turn to patrol the area. and surely enough, she's there. fixing up the schack feels like a chore he would love to pass onto someone else but it's too late now. he almost turns on his heel and leaves but then she sees him and the chance to run disappears.

" hey, " he greets her, sets the tool bag on the ground. he tenses up immediately but he doesn't let it show. it's weird, how rian's the only person around here that can get under his skin like this and she doesn't even realize it. " how's it going ? busy out there ? "

#desmond. #desmond & rian.

[memoryaway]

⸻ i saw DESMOND CHAMBERLAIN coming through the trees. the 41 year old was fleeing from CHICAGO when they came across novac, and have sought salvation within the motel of purgatory. DESMOND has been in town for A MONTH and has been assigned as MAINTENANCE to keep society running smoothly. no matter what, they will find something to fight for.

general.

FULL NAME:  desmond jonathan chamberlain NICKNAME: usuall goes by des AGE: 41 DATE OF BIRTH: june 14th, 1982 PLACE OF BIRTH: chicago, illinois GENDER: cis man PRONOUNS: he & him SEXUALITY: gay OCCUPATION IN NOVAC: maintenance EDUCATION LEVEL: high school FAMILY: father, patrick chamberlain ( ✟ ) ; mother, mary chamberlain ( ✟ ) ; twin brother, callum chamberlain ( ✟ ) ; husband, tyson chamberlain ( ✟ ) ; daughter, layla chamberlain ( ✟ ) FACECLAIM: jamie dornan

personality.

POSITIVE TRAITS:  adaptable, efficient, self-reliant NEGATIVE TRAITS: selfish, jaded, deceitful

backstory.

tw: child death, lots of death in general; violence

always a bit of an afterthought, des grew up in his twin brother's shadow. unlike all the movie and tv twins, desmond and callum do not have a psychic connection, do not finish each other's sentences, truth is, they barely tolerate each other. they share a room growing up and there isn't a day that goes by without either of them starting a fight—verbal or physical. and, of course, callum's better. he's smart, exceptionally so, and knows how to make friends. des scrapes by just about in every area of his life. he moves through his teenage year being constantly compared to his brother, even though everyone knows how much des hates it. so, in comparison, des is never enough, especially to his parents who've always put insane amount of pressure on their sons to be the best.

when callum goes to college, desmond stays behind, lives at home and works with his father at his construction business. his parents see it as wasting his life away but des likes it—all he's ever wanted was a slow, routine life without his brother and it's exactly what he's getting. callum never moves back home, stays in boston and only visits during the holidays, which makes des so goddamn happy.

years pass and the regular milestones happen—des moves out, his father promotes him, he meets a man, he marries the man, they get a dog and start a family. life goes on and it's good.

then des and cal lose their parents in the initial wave of the outbreak and they have to swallow their pride and stick together. callum, desmond and his family set off to go to boston, with cal convinced that they'll be better off on his home turf. they never make it to boston but they find a settlement on their way there and people take them in. it's relatively small and the four of them settles well, they stay there for a couple of years. life goes on and it's alright. scary but they're alive and together so it's alright.

the settlement gets overrun by raiders at night in the middle of winter, not many people make it out alive but the four of them do. with little next to nothing, they run and get safe. new plan—find somewhere else to stay because they know they won't make it on their own. they set off and hope for the best.

( tw ) when des leaves his husband, their daughter with cal to keep them safe while he scouts the nearby desolate town for supplies, he doesn't expect to come back to a tragedy. with a backpack full of food, des has to kill a clicker on arrival. the fire is out in the camp, callum is nowhere to be found and the bodies of desmond's family lie bloody on the ground. he runs, scouts the are for the body of his twin but to his surprise, he finds him safe and sound, on the outskirts of the forest. callum wanted to find supplies too, he figured tyson and layla would be fine on their own for a while. when he asks if something's happened, desmond hits him and doesn't stop until his brother's on the ground, bleeding and gasping, barely moving. and then he leaves.

if he couldn't trust his own brother then it's clear that he can't trust anyone and so desmond chooses to survive on his own. it works out alright, he moves every now and again in search of supplies, always careful and sleeping with one eye open.

then he crosses paths with a group of people who normally kill people like him on sight—he practically broke into their camp to steal some food. what saves him is the fact that he stayed undetected for it all and only got caught on his way out. he joins them because there's no other choice and he soon finds out what kind of a group they are. find, kill, take, repeat. at this point, he can't bring himself to care about the morals of it because he's got absolutely nothing left to lose but his life. and if that's what it takes to survive, so be it.

they move together, take people in here and there if they've got guts for it. des is so focused on survival at all costs that he becomes one of the group's best assets. he's jaded, desensitized to violence and it's all tunnel vision with him.

whether it's karma, bad luck or divine punishment—none of which des believes in—they start losing people. rian and her patrol partner get attacked during the sweep by some ex-soldiers desmond kills himself later. they try to find rian and the other but the woods are too thick and vast to track them down so they give up, pack their camp and move on.

a lot of his fellow survivors grow careless—des thinks it's because they're thinking of splitting from the group. more time passes and they lose more people, rian's siblings included. eventually, there's just a handful of them left and even though des offers leadership, they leave in the middle of the night and desmond is once again on his own.

novac is a godsend; he's been running low on supplies and everywhere he goes, he finds nothing. when they offer him a place to stay, he intends to keep his past a secret—nobody has to know what he's been up to these past few years. he takes a maintenance role rather than a scout or guard position, even though his skills could probably work wonders here. he intends to keep his head down, stay afloat until he figures out what his next steps should be.

but then he finds out that rian's already here and his plan to stay undetected is seemingly ruined—until he learns that she doesn't remember him. he uses the fact to his advantage. he doesn't tell her anything, makes sure they don't cross paths too often—he's not sure if he's ever going to tell her unless she remembers him. des keeps his cards close to his chest and hopes this place never starts feeling like home.

#desmond — intro. #lastintro #this ended up being so long im sorry #tldr man loses family leaves his brother to die and turns evil ig #kinda don't feel like rereading so if there are typos no there arent