[PurpleBox]

[this is a rp between myself and slyvanSpider, feel free to read but please do not post unless you are either of us. This rp is going to use some similar settings and other things from The Last of Us, not necessarily in the same universe. Enjoy ^-^]
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Most of the people nowadays don’t really remember what the world was like before the outbreak, before the fungal infection changed everything. Turned family and friends into mindless monsters that attacked everything and spread the infection. Ian had only been 6 at the time of the outbreak, he had faint memories of the nice house he and his parents had lived in, now it was just he and his little brother in a cramped one room apartment in a city district under the thumb of the military's strike law.

That didn’t mean that Ian stayed inside the ‘safe’ walls of the city, the ginger haired man of 22 year old often went outside the walls to gather supplies for he and his brother, and to kill any infected runners he found. Runners where those in the first stages of infection, recently bitten or exposed to the deadly spores that caused the world to collapse.

The military had done a good enough job so far keeping the Runners and other infect out of this City… Ian still didn’t trust them, as frequently there were food and water shortages, at least for those who were not enlisted in the military now.

Currently Ian was standing on top of the building that housed him and hundreds of other people, all crammed together in small apartments with spotty power. The freckled ginger man had tattoos on his arms, and a few on his legs as well, though those ones where hidden under the skin tight pants he wore as he stretched in the early morning sun.One needed to stay in shape if they wanted to live a day outside the walls. Ian did everything in his power to make sure his little brother didn't have to venture outside the walls of the city...his little brother would soon be celebrating his 11th birthday. Tristan was born after the fall of society… and had a different father than Ian, didn’t matter to the ginger haired man, the blond haired pixie was his blood, his only family left after their mother passed away from a nasty sickness, oddly enough not related to the fungal outbreak at all. The poor nutrition they received had hit their mother the hardest it seemed…

Shaking his head, ginger hair bouncing around his head as the sun rose fully, light making the ginger strands almost glow, and the light did indeed make Ian’s green eyes sparkle with life. Grabbing his shirt from where he’d set it down Ian made his way back inside the building and down a few flights of stairs till he reached his apartment.

Inside the stale, cramped and rundown looking space lay a young boy with blond curls on his head, the only real color in the drab room, he was laying on the couch with a ratty blanket thrown over him haphazardly. Ian found himself grinning at that, Tristan was always a deep sleeper… a bad thing when they’d been on the run outside the walls… trying to move from one city to another after their mother passed.

“Hope he gets more sleep...still growing the little pup is.” He yawned as he spoke gently to himself, locking the door behind him as he moved into the apartment proper. On the poor excuse of a counter was a travel backpack… the same one Ian strapped to his back when he went outside of the walls, he had one gun, he maintained it and always looked for more bullets for it, he also had a large hunting knife with a wicked serrated edge to it tucked into a side pocket of the backpack.

Going over to his bag he made sure he had everything inside that would last him a few days. Ian had a smuggling job to do today, nothing big, but it needed him to move the product outside the wall to another sector of the city, away from the prying eyes of the military guards that were at each checkpoint that separated the district of the city now.

Just another way the military tried to control the people inside the walls…. It made Ian a little sick but this was life now.

[sylvanSpider]

Sixteen years. Sixteen impossibly long years. Aren was four. Life before the Reckoning went unremembered; the faces of his sisters, his mother, and father began to fade, only their names etched in stone. He owed his life to Serj, his oldest brother, and he knew that. When the Reckoning hit (as he called it), like the others his age, he'd needed to survive somehow and they were all there either through dumb luck or, like Aren, with a savior of some sort. He grew up knowledgeable of the outside dangers, paying attention when something new was found out about the fungus. Generally, he stayed within the city gates reading, reading, reading. He knew all about fungus and the fungus, and he genuinely thought once that they could change it, that they could revert those infected back. That things could go back to normal, back like life before the Reckoning.

“It won't bring them back, Aren. Stop fucking trying, would you? Even if by some fucking miracle you managed to find some cure or a way to get the shit out, they aren't coming back. I brained them, okay? I did it to save you. They were infected. There wasn't a choice...They had to die so that you could live...” Serj had said when Aren came to him with his dreams.

Those words stung, pricking his skin and burrowing themselves in his heart. Aren stayed silent after that, but he never forgot. His insistence on finding a cure wouldn't fade like the faces of his family. So they weren't coming back. That didn't mean there weren't others that could be saved. The city was full of kids with stories just like his, as full as it was of adults with stories just like Serj's. But unlike them, there would be hope for some of them. If he could see just one family, or even one couple, reunited because of research that he'd done, he could rest knowing that he helped.

Serj didn't share that optimism. The worst had already come, and there was no righting it. He'd been distant for as long as Aren could remember. With that explanation, it was easy to see why. Maybe things had been different before the Reckoning. Maybe he'd been excited when their mother told him that he was going to have a new baby brother. Maybe once he gave Aren a piggy back ride, or tried to teach him letters or maybe how to count. Maybe he gripped his tiny fingers, holding Aren up, during those first few steps of life. But those maybes were only wistful thinking, and as it was Serj left him with little but cold memories.

Serj did have his moments though, those brief moments of warmth where he would open up to his little brother. He would tell him of his father's strength, his mother's beauty, his sisters' pranks. The twins were beautiful, he was told. “You look just like them,” he'd said then. It was true, too, at least, so far as keeping a fairly androgynous appearance went. Aren had an angular frame and full lips, his long knotted hair and nose ring didn't help and where the few other nineteen year old boys had filled out and turned to men, Aren stayed lanky, but tall. While this wasn't intentional, it earned his brother's ire nonetheless and those few tender moments he had with him dissipated into accusations of being queer and a good-for-nothing bookworm.

[i]“Smarts gets you nowhere without braun. You should be working on filling out. You think those books are going to fucking help you? Look what it got your sisters...”[i]

His sisters were ten at the time of the Reckoning, and the time of their death. In those few moments of warmth Serj would tell him with pride that they were the top of their class, and the fastest in P.E. (apparently a class held in something called “school” pre-Reckoning days), only for those precious facts to be torn down and used against Aren later.

Aren stood now, looking at the empty apartment. Most of the items in there were Aren's. A variety of books pilfered from the library and stacked in neat little piles lining the walls, kitchen appliances he'd gone to trade for, an easel with a finished painting on it but no new canvases, and a sketchbook. There were posters too, mostly Serj's, that he'd picked up at various parts of the city that weren't under lockdown. They'd go unlooked at now that he was gone.

He didn't know how to feel when he was told that the apartment would only be his now, that his brother had gone out with the guard and would never be coming back. His memories with his brother were mostly bad, and yet, he found himself dreading coming home to an apartment that would forever be empty save for himself. He had no family left to speak of, so until they got a new boy around his age, there wouldn't be any new roommates.

Aren needed to breathe. He sighed, turning his back on the tiny apartment that felt so vast in that moment and headed for the roof. He could get some fresh air there.

[[[Eeeeehm, I didn't know how to search for actual people to use, so I looked up specific hair and came across this gem. He's the top pic]]]

[PurpleBox]

Ian and Tristan had never gone to school….well Ian had been to kindergarten, learning all the colors numbers and shapes… he never got farther than that, the outbreak, or the Reckoning as some had taken to calling it happened the summer before he was to start grade 1. Their mother had done her best to teach then, she had been a teacher after all before the end of the world, Tristan’s father had done his best to teach the boys how to keep in shape to stay alive in this new cruel world. The young ginger man had a routine he kept to unless he was planning on going outside the brick walls of the city.

After he had woken Tristan up to start the routine the brothers had a small breakfast before taking the stairs up to the roof for some exercise, stretches and some yoga from a book that Ian had found after their mother had passed away. Then it would be laps around the rooftop, Ian on the outer rim, the ginger would never put his younger brother in danger like that… though he had to admit that Tristan was rather bendy and quick for his age. Skinny too… though who wasn’t nowadays.

The siblings paused when they got to the roof, seeing another person from the apartments there already, and Ian knew that this man had not been here just an hour ago. A faint memory from a few days ago came to time… someone who had gone out with the soldiers had not come back… leaving their apartment with only one occupant… a younger brother, that made a small pain lance into Ian’s heart….One of the reasons he never went out under military watch was because they tended to overlook the normal citizens that came out with them… favoring their own over those they were supposed to protect.

The young man before them was a stark difference to the two brothers, where Ian and Tristan where pale and lightly colored, Tristan more then Ian as the ginger man had a very light tan form his time outside. The man before them was dark skinned with knotted hair...dreadlocks was the name that came to mind.

“Sorry, we didn’t think anyone else would be up here yet.” Ian said calmly, his accent was not common that was for sure, Ian’s mother and father had been scottish, Tristan’s was weaker as he’d had less time with their mother who used to sing old scottish lullabies to the two brothers. It was a little known fact in the apartment that Ian could get outside the walls...could get his freckled hands on things that the military counted as contraband, old books, guns, and he sometimes smuggled things out to drop points in the wild space outside the city now.

As he could do all this and didn’t charge a arm and a leg, the apartment residents don't tattle on his to the military. The McLocke brothers kept to themselves as best they could while being friendly without making actually friends, favors yes, but not friends. Ian had a jagged scar over his hip that was from the last ‘friend’ the brother’s had… Ian’s old partner that had left Ian for dead after attacking him. The only place Ian refused jobs from was sector 8, the sector his old partner resided… in this city… it boiled the ginger’s blood when he had to even get close to sector 8.

“Just a couple more Tris, that’s it come on, only 5 more.” Ian was spotting his younger brother who was shakily doing some pull ups on a over hanging pipe on the roof, Ian never pushed his brother to always be fit… just enough to stay healthy as he knew his little brother was more into the old comic books that Ian managed to bring back every time he ventured outside the walls. Green eyes would occasionally move over to the other man on the roof, always cautious about people he didn’t know.

Tristan was panting and his face a little blotchy by the time he was done. “D-Do yo-you thin-think i’ll be able to come with you soon Ian?” Tristan panted out and Ian paused in his own stretching up for the pull up pipe. It was a touchy subject between the brothers now that they had been in this city for a while now.

“Not yet Pup, don’t give me that look, I don’t like you out there… remember the raiders?” Ian said as he began his own pull ups, about 20 more than he’d given Tristan to do. Tristan was pouting as he sat cross legged on the roof, carefully stretching his arms to ease the ache of pulling himself up on the pipe. Bright blue eyes looking over towards the darker skinned man with knotted hair curiously.

[sylvanSpider]

Aren jumped hearing voices where he'd expected silence. For the most part, the apartment complex was quiet as the grave in the moments before the sun came up, and just after. He'd expected the rooftop to be void of activity, but he was wrong. There were others in the complex, it seemed, that were motivated.

He spun around on his heel to face the two before him. One taller man, one shorter, and they appeared to be brothers despite their difference in hair color. Serj had told him that in days before the Reckoning, their type would do well by avoiding those with lighter skin. He never understood why, but his brother said that back then? It was different. The skin you wore on the outside made everyone immediately think of who you were on the inside, and that those with darker skin had to be careful who they spoke to. That sense of unease Aren never felt, and didn't feel it now in front of the ginger man and his apparent younger brother.

Aren's hand immediately went up to scratch the back of his head. He never hated people, but he was always at least a little shy and seeing that the brothers came up here to do something Serj had pushed and pushed Aren to do with him, he couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty. “Uh...I wasn't expecting nobody neither, honestly. Do ya'll do this everyday?” Aren asked, noting that the clothes they wore were obviously for training and fitness purposes rather than casual purposes. He'd come up here, unmotivated, simply trying to escape it all and the last thing he wanted was to be in their way.

He watched as the younger brother worked on finishing his pull ups – he was apparently called “Tris” from what he could pick up – and put his hands in his pockets, ready to search for another place he could call a sanctuary. The rooftop, it seemed, wouldn't be ideal just given the fact that apparently at least two used it at the times he'd be wanting to. Surely there had to be another place in the city that he could call his own, someplace aside from that empty apartment with so many awful memories. So, he jammed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat, “You're talkin' about getting' outside the city walls? Do you know how?” Aren tried to hide the eagerness in his voice and shifted his weight from one leg to the other, “Could you tell me how?”

[PurpleBox]

“We try to do it when the weather’s good.” Tristan said a friendly smile on his face before they’d set to working out. The younger brother was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, something that Ian was starting to get covered in as well when Aren spoke to them again.

The brothers stopped talking for a moment to look at Aren, the youngers' blue eyes looking worriedly at the green eyes of his older brother. It was against the rules set in place to go outside the walls without the military escorts… but people still did, many died from not knowing what the heck was out there any more. “The less people that know how to get out the better, less chance of the military dogs blocking up all the exits….why do you wanna get out any way?” Ian asked, his voice a little gruff as he was holding himself up in his pull up with ease, slowly lowering himself before pulling up again, he wouldn't stop his work out just to talk, he could do both at the same time.

“To survive out there you need to know how to shoot, and shoot well, you can’t miss a single shot if you don’t want to get bitten and turned into a Runner.” Ian said with a huff as he pulled himself back up , then down, up and down, the motions came easy to the ginger haired man. He normally kept quiet about his knowledge about outside the wall… because the military might impression him as punishment if they knew that he’d been outside the walls regularly since he and his brother became citizens of this city.

The ginger haired man would have to do unpaid hard labor… and then Tristan wouldn't have any support…. That would be his punishment...part of Ian really wanted to just take all they had in their small apartment and leave, find their own place and set up shop….there were tons of abandoned towns that had not been picked clean…

Looking over at Aren, Ian got the feeling that the boy was a bookworm… he fainted remembered grabbing books for a older man that looked similar to the young man in front of them...Ian never asked questioned about his jobs unless something didn't feel right… then he’d question it till the cows come home… a strange saying that he’d givin up trying to explain to Tristan.

[sylvanSpider]

Aren nodded to Tristan, but he couldn't return that friendly smile even if he wanted to. It felt as if those muscles didn't work anymore, if they ever did. He was at a loss for words as well, so accustomed to having no one but his brother for company, and well, he wasn't exactly the most talkative fellow to ever grace the face of the planet. Instead of anything of substance, he responded with a simple, “Motivation is good, I suppose.” It was something he wished he had when his brother was alive. Or, at least, motivation towards physical fitness. He had motivation, just not the right kind, apparently.

Aren was hyper-conscious of both pairs of eyes on him and he shifted where he stood, wishing he had something in his hands to fiddle with but there was no such luck. His intention when he came up here was solitude. Though, perhaps a friend or two wouldn't be such a bad thing. These two, however, seemed more keen on what they were doing than making friends, and he recognized a distrustful look when he saw one. He couldn't blame the guy though; he was sure he wore the same expression. “Yeah, yeah, I figured. Makes sense. I'll find my own way if I have to, just guessed it'd be wiser to try to ask around for a good path's all.” He gulped, not knowing if he wanted to tell him all that he probably should. He settled with the easiest mode of explanation possible: “Mushrooms. Not...the ah...psychedelic kind. I want to study. Books ain't cutting it anymore. I need to do field work. Hard to do that cooped up in this city.”

“I know how to shoot,” Aren offered hopefully. “My brother taught me. I'm a pretty decent shot if I'm being honest. It's one of the two things I'm good at.” Aren's irises moved with the ginger man as he raised himself, lowering, then raising again. It was impressive and something that at one point he wished he could do. Now, he still wished that, but he wanted more and he had to choose. Even with his brother's undoubted disapproval, he was going to continue down the path he'd forged for himself.

Aren eventually shrugged, “But I get it. Keeping the paths secret. I wouldn't wanna tell everyone about it neither. Might fall into the wrong ears. Good luck with your work out, I'll leave ya alone now if ya want.”

[PurpleBox]

Green eyes blinked. “Mushrooms….” He didn’t sound like he believed it… Blue eyes looked curiously between Ian and Aren. “Have you ever been outside the walls? You look like you’d have been a toddler or a baby when this whole fungus shite came down on us….” Ian hissed out he pulled himself up to hard on his last lift, he lowered himself with a sigh and sat himself down and began his cool down stretches

“You shouldn’t go out with out someone who has been outside the walls before….and not the military…” Ian huffed out as he stood up, stretching lean pale freckled skin as he moved to stand in front of Aren.

“You seem like a good kid….not that you look much younger then me….meet me in the storage room after lunch if you really want to get outside the walls.” Ian said before he motioned with his head for Tristan to start walking to the stairs. The young blond did just that, looking over his shoulder one last time before his blond curls disappeared. Ian wasn’t far behind as he followed his younger brother.

Once inside their apartment Tristan spun on Ian with a grin on his face. “So you gonna help him?” the blond boys voice was bubbly and Ian sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the scruff of ginger hair on his jaw and chin, he could go a few more days before attempting to shave again.

“I think so… his brother was the one had died in the last military run i think….I just hope he does know how to shoot…. I really hate escort missions where the person in with can’t hit a barn door with a shotgun.” Ian sighed as he felt to his track pack to pack his supplies for at least a day or two, you never know if you’ll be stuck outside the walls, he looked around their apartment for the set of walkie talkies he had managed to scavenge a few years back.

Going back to Tristan who was sitting cross legged in front of the couch with some paper in front of him, leaflets from different places, Tristan was teaching himself to read with these. “You know the drill Pup, if I’m gonna be longer than a day I’ll radio in to let you know.” He handed one of the walkies to Tristan who nodded.

Noon came soon enough and Ian rested against the wall close to the storage closet, not going in yet, if the other man brought anyone else with him Ian would just leave, he didn’t like others tagging along unless they were there originally when the ‘deal’ was struck… to many bad turns with this old partner. Ian had a feeling that the man they met on the roof wanted to study the fungi that seemed to grow over the head bodies of Runners and Growths… Growths where the worst to kill, the fungal growths that covered their faces made the blind so their hearing was sharp and on point and you had to be careful to not breath in to many of the spores that they emited when stabbed or shot. Oddly enough a few spores wasn't enough to turn you, just make you sick for a few days with a high fever…. The fever might kill you if it's your first time being exposed…

Ian had breathed in his fare share… it still shocked him that he was still human, he just prayed that he stayed human… so he could come home to his little brother.

[sylvanSpider]

Aren could see the disbelief on the smaller one's face and his brown eyes assessed him briefly before he gave a brief shrug and a nod, “I was four when it happened, but I been out once or twice with my older bro a few years back. Those paths are all closed now and he didn't show me any of the new ones. We stuck close to the walls, so we were never in any serious danger, but I got to see actual living trees, so that was cool.” The morning air was brisk and crisp, and Aren was thankful that he'd thought to wear a hoodie. It was amazing that the two others were out here in their fitness gear, but then, they were active and obviously weren't bothered with the temperature.

Aren's eyebrows perked up with the good news. He wasn't expecting a “yes” when he'd asked. It was a shot in the dark, but apparently his being a good shot extended past firearms. “Wait. Really?” he asked. He knew the storage room; it was one of the few isolated parts of the apartment complex, just as the roof was. Apparently it was the perfect meeting spot. A smile almost graced his lips, but it was subdued, like it was an act that didn't come natural to him. “I'll be there.”

Aren turned to leave and immediately made his way for his apartment, packing a bag. Enough clothes for two days, some rations he'd saved up, plastic baggies for samples, and some throw away medical masks he'd pilfered from the medical unit when feigning a cough. They'd be of the utmost importance if he got to do what he actually wanted to. Samples. He wanted to see the fungus up close and personal. He'd seen pictures, of course, but none on the microscopic level – he wasn't even sure if there were any at this point – and he needed to see the hymenium. That, he thought, was where he would find the answers he sought.

Lucky for him, he also happened to be in possession of a microscope – also pilfered – and he'd be able to study. The hard part just sort of fell out of the sky for him. Someone to take him out of the city was almost too good to be true, and if the rumors were right about the redhead, he was the ideal guide. Aren's bag was packed. His microscope was staying home (he didn't want to risk the lens being broken) and dashed to the storage closet.

“It looks like I made it,” he said, seeing the ginger already at his post, “I'm Aren, by the way.”

[PurpleBox]

When Ian spotted Aren, alone, the ginger man relaxed, he wore a grey tank top under a faded green flannel shirt with only a few buttons done up to keep the shirt in place, ragged jeans covered his legs, the close shows signs of wear and tear…. More than the workout clothes he’d been seen in this morning. He had his hunting knife strapped to his thigh as he scanned hsi green eyes up and down Aren after the young man introduced himself.

“Ian McLocke...I have three simple rules for outside the walls kid….” Ian held up one finger. “Stick close to me, be my shadow if you need to.” He held up a second finger. “If you hear anything clicking stand still and hold your breath till I give the all clear.” He held up the final third finger. “And finally, don’t hesitate to shoot. Not for anything or anyone.” Ian kept eye contact with Aren as he spoke, his own gun rested in a pocket in his pack, easily accessed if you knew where it was.

Once that was settled Ian lead the way INTO the storage closet, to the far back where the light was shotty and there seemed to be a few things laying up against the wall, with a grunt Ian moved a flimsy wooden panel, revealing a hole in the wall that was a short drop downward. “There are unused sub areas all over the city, military doesn't think to seal them up properly…” Ian explained as they dropped down, Ian could always pull himself up easily form the short height on the way back. The ginger haired man turned on the flashlight on his shoulder to light their way.

It took then a good 30 minutes of walking in underground tunnels before they heard the chirping of birds, and the rays of sunlight filtered through the floor of a old clothing store a good distance outside the city. Once outside Ian took a big breath os more clean air then they had in the city. Plants had overtaken the streets, not the fungia thankfully, just normal plant life, the ones that provide clean and breathable air. The shop face they had left said H&M on it, Ian just remembered that it was a popular clothing store when he had been little… not much else… and there were still cloths, lightly dusted and weathers on the racks around them.

Cars where left abandoned in the streets and somewhere over turned and Ian fished a hidden gun out from the back seat of one of the cars, it was more a rifle then his little pistol, he and a few of the other smugglers had a unspoken code where they left some things outside the walls for other smugglers to use.

“Ok…. we’re outside the walls, I get the feeling you’re not interested in plain old mushrooms….I hope you have some sort of mask filter thing on ya cuz there are gonna be tones of spores where we’re going.” Ian said looking down the sites of the rifle, checking the magazine and bullet count before nodded to himself. Looking back at Aren for confirmation or denial of that the younger man wanted to look for.

[sylvanSpider]

Aren wore on his person the uniform of a city dweller, give or take the oddities of the P-96 on his hip and a hardcover copy of The Book of Fungi: A Life-Size Guide to Six Hundred Species From Around the World tucked under his arm standing out from the expected sagging and torn in places hoodie and jeans barely clinging to his hips. The two looked like they couldn't have come from more different worlds, yet they were drawn into the same space with what was undoubtedly an all too similar story. It seemed that story was one shared by most since the Reckoning; few led lives void of tragedy now.

“Kid.” The word stuck in Aren's mind and echoed back in his brother's voice. A wave of uncanniness washed over him and he shook his head to shake off the thought before realizing that he was in company, nodding then to relay that he understood. “Got it,” he added to confirm and praying that his verbal response would detract from his noticing his odd verbal cues that he didn't mean to convey. With his mention of shooting, his hand drifted down to the gun at his hip as if to make sure it was there. Ideally, once he was finished, there would be hesitation to shoot. Every clicker, every runner, is a person who had the potential to be cured. That is, if the fungus didn't kill the host upon infection. If that was the case (and Aren sincerely prayed it wasn't), then everything Aren was doing was in vain unless he found a way to eradicate the fungus all together, found a weakness or a way to keep the spores from spreading.

Aren followed Ian into the storage closet and then into it, amazed that such a thing could be hidden in basically plain sight. He kept his arms dangling loose at his sides resisting the urge to jam them into his pockets. He knew he needed them available in case an infected came upon them, and he wanted to be extra cautious. “Kinda amazes me, y'know? How much they don't see. They aren't that hard to fool, are they?” Aren dropped in after him and brushed off his hoodie.

Generally, he stuck close to Ian. The subway's lights were long out, and the only mode of seeing was through Ian's light. He'd forgotten a flashlight. Of course that should have been first on his mind with the knowledge that fungi had a tendency to culminate in dark, damp spaces though it wasn't a necessity. There was some relief on reaching the outside. The sun still hung high in the sky, but its harshness melted through the branches of trees. The area around them was green, so very green. All around them Nature reclaimed what was rightfully Hers and it was...beautiful. Beautiful was the right word if it was also accompanied by “humbling” and “terrifying.”

Aren shook his head, “Not only mushrooms, man. Fungi in general. This place is home to over ten thousand different species. Least it was before the Reckoning. But, you ain't no idiot, I'll give you that. If I can get my hands on the Big Bad, I'd like to. I understand if you don't wanna fuck with that, but I've gotta try. I ain't exactly the most brauny guy there ever was, so I'm gonna make a difference with my head. It's all I got.” Aren couldn't help but raise his eyebrows, “I've got masks, yeah. And gloves. I came prepared in case you were willing to actually take me. This place gonna be rife with Runners?”

[PurpleBox]

“All i remember before the shit hit the fan is that every spring i’d sneeze my face off so hard my nose was permanently red till the end of july.” Ian said, he didn't know the science terms and stuff for the fungi...but he knew that the spores and a infected bite where two of the most common ways to get infected… contaminated water could be boiled down to a safe heat to get rid of anything in the water… and the spores and fungus didn’t seams to infect any food stores… mostly because all the best food now was canned… hardly ever anything fresh…. There were a few wild apple trees outside the walls, Ian made a mental note to grab a bunch to bring back for his brother.

Ian hummed lightly. “I had to clear it out to get some cargo moved last month… so it should only have the dead bodies of the Runners… and that means spores… even so early in the infection they still make them damned spores after death….just keep your wits about you… it’s the Growths and Clickers we really need to watch out for….the Runners might have the numbers but the other two are more deadly.” Ian said before they started to move.

Birds flitted past them from building to building, at one point they had to go into old office building to get around a roadblock made of piled up cars covered in moss. Ian pulled himself up to a slightly to high ledge before reaching his hand down to haul Aren up easily. The old office building was creaking slightly form age and time, Ian looked out of different windows to keep track of their progress. Between the office building and the a few others the piles of cals had build up and rusted together over the years… and had formed a small putril looking lake in the once dry streets.

Ian paused and held his breath when he saw a dead body, one of the military, the man had a gun laying loosely in one fallen hand, his helmet had been set aside and the soldiers brains colored the walls with a sicking color and smell. Thankfully the man wasn’t growing anything… so he must have shot himself before he fully turned, not giving the fungal infection a chance to reproduce in him. “Find peace mate.” Ian said to the dead body slowly, as much as he hated the military…. No one deserves to have to choose between biting the bullet themselves or turning into a mindless frantic Runner.

“It’s down the next street and back into the underground where this stuff grows… and sadly the underground if the saver route then topside...the runners and Growths don’t seem to like to be around the fungus once they’re infected… pro’bly cos they’re meant to spread it… to stay around it.” Ian shrugged as they had to use a old fire escape to leave the office building. Ian didn't stop once to search for things as he’d picked this area over and over before… and he liked to leave SOME things for others to find… mostly the useless junk that he couldn't craft with.

Ian held up a hand when he heard something clatter in the alley in front of them, he raised the rifle with ease and rested it in a shooting position. Finger lightly over the trigger, the clattering got louder and Ian held his breath for a moment, finger getting ready to squeeze the trigger when a ragged man came around the corner panting, he looked worse for wear but no visible signs of bites or infection, his eyes where clear when he looked up at them.

“Fin-Finally found people….I’ve been out here for days! DAYS! I tell you!” the man said with a small hysterical laugh that had Ian tensing his muscles. “Mavrik said he’d be sending people out to help me move stuff, didn’t think it would take literal days…..”The man rambled on and Ian stopped at the name Mavrik before he cocked the rifle and aimed at the mans head.

“We’re not with Mavrik buddy. Just out looking for supplies…. How about you step to the side so things don’t get bloody.” Ian’s accent was thick as he emotions with his eyes trained on the man who froze in his rambling to stare at them again.

“Y-You’re not Mavrik’s guys??I-If you’re not with him then you must be thieves trying to take the goods!” The man ranted , going for a knife in his pocket before Ian fired a single shot that disabled the man's arm with a yelp of pain.

“I don’t want anything to DO with whatever that bastard is wrapped up in now, just looking for supplies like I said, now move or my next shot will be your head.” Ian said evenly, not even phased by having just shot a man. The man shakily stumbled to the far wall of the alley, leaving them ample room to pass, Ian had himself and his gun between the man and Aren.

The ginger man didn’t relax until about half a block past the alley, all tension just… draining out of the gingers shoulders.

[sylvanSpider]

The outside world was void of voices, replaced by the sound of twittering songbirds and the various insects that made their home on the western coast of Canada. The chitter chatter of the city felt so far behind them, though Aren could see the wall from where they were standing. They were in a completely different world than the one Aren had grown up witnessing. Human remnants remained in the form of ruins; moss-covered cars and crumbling buildings stood as a decaying testament to Nature's victory over man.

Aren followed his red-headed guide with a watchful eye on their surroundings, though he knew if anything lurked, Ian's trained senses would be the first to pick it up. Still, one couldn't be too careful. The peace, after all, was deceptive. With no humans here, Nature hummed in Her placation – the men were, for the moment, in no immediate danger. “It sounds to me like you had a case of the allergies,” Aren said, casting a glance in the direction of the city walls. None had seen them come out, but he knew the consequences for leaving without a clearance was dire.

Aren stayed relatively quiet as Ian explained his previous exploits into the wild, nodding along though he knew that Ian couldn't see. “It'd be what I'm looking for, yeah. Samples are the main thing I'm after. If I can set up shop somewhere outside the city, someplace I can keep my microscope, that would be amazing. I don't...I don't want to bring my samples into the city if at all possible.” Of course, by the time they got back to the city, he would have had the samples neatly pressed into a slide, sealed shut, but if anyone found out he had it, it would be the end of his stay in the city.

He froze seeing the fallen soldier. Their conversation, previously the only sound set apart from Nature, now fell silent and the soldier's rest went once again undisturbed save for their own prying eyes. The twittering songbirds, the chirping insects, those were the noises that surrounded this man in death for the past several days, and likely what he heard in life as he loaded the chamber and with trembling hands placed the barrel in his mouth. Aren swallowed, looking at the gun in his hand, then to his other hand resting on his chest. There was a small white square poking up from under the man's palm, and Aren assumed it was a photograph of a loved one, or maybe a letter. He wasn't going to find out.

Aren's hand immediately went to his gun and he pointed his in the same direction Ian did when the person that revealed himself was not a Runner, but another uninfected human. The name Mavrik must have meant something to Ian, but Aren didn't want to see any unnecessary bloodshed so he stepped between them, holding his hands out, “There's no need for any of that shit, ya hear me? We don't need to kill anyone that's not threatening us...” Brown eyes went from the pathetic excuse of a man before him to the green eyes of his guide, “Just leave him be. I dunno who this Mavrik guy is, so we can't help you there. Seems you've been left behind, man. I'd suggest going back in and forgetting whatever stuff it is you're talking about, just like they forgot about you.”

Aren cast a somewhat pitied glance at Mavrik's guy before following his redheaded guide and once he saw the tension leave he tossed his head in the direction they came from, “The fuck was that about?”

[PurpleBox]

Ian kept his grip on his gen steady as they moved, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure they were not being followed. “Mavrik,’ Ian spat on the ground like the name made his sick ‘ Was once my partner… taught me somethings about the outside world...we worked smuggling's together and where part of a crew that would escort people between the cities… all under the radar course….Few times he stiffed me on my payments… didn’t think much of it as first as he always paid up eventually… then I catch wind of his planning to SELL my brother to raiders because he owed them a debt.” Ian was gripping his rifle tighter now before he took a breath to relax himself.

“We parted way…. With little blood shed….. He stays in his sector and I stay in mine….Now he’s a big boss man for a big group of thugs… you know how Sector 2 is a shit hole? The reason is he forced the civilians to pay him protection ‘money’" Air quotes where used for the work Money, a old bunch of coins and paper bills that were pretty useless now. “Tristan dun’t know about the bastards plot that involved him… just thinks we had a big fall out….” Ian muttered, not mentioning how he and Mavrik had been closer then partners….and for the ginger man to find out that his ‘lover’ at the time would sell Ian’s only family, knowing what family meant to Ian...yeah there where still times Ian wished he’d shoot the bastard in the head.

Soon the ground became more covered in a soft dark green natural carpet of moss and Ian held up his hand to stop them again. He fished his mask out and strap it on, as they rounded the corner, spores would be seen lightly floating in the air, they seemed to grow the deeper Aren and Ian moved into the city. Soon they came to a staircase that lead underground, some fungi where growing along the walls.

“This is the place. Don't know why the military hasn’t burnt the place out yet cos they know about it… but then again they wouldn't be able to control the city if they got rid of a source. There’s more potent stuff in the forests… along the highways deeper in to the country. Used to live in a part that was wide and flat….Don’t remember the name…” Ian said as he rolled his shoulders and held his rifle steady.

The pair passed downed bodies of runners and one Growth, a shiv still sticking out of the things neck from Ian having to stab at it when it got to close. Already out of the Growth’s body more fungal fruit was being born, thankfully it hadn't burst of flowers yet so it was a ways off from making more spores.

“If we go any deeper we’ll need to turn on the torches… flashlights….”Ian said… he sometimes forgot that he still used terminology that his mum had used from her homeland. “There’s another stretch of tunnels down here that are like the ones we used to get out of the city… they stretch on for a while… a couple days at least…” Ian said with a shrug.

Ian looked comfortable in this environment, even with his guarded stance as he checked around corners and listened well to see if any more runners had migrated down here. Thankfully none had, so it was just the two humans and the fungai.

“Setting up a lab out here would be risky because if anything looks newly set up looters will come crawling out to take take take.” Ian said with a thoughtful look. “It would have to be tricky or risky to reach each time to help sway looters away….” Ian spoke softly, the mask making his voice sound raspy as it filters the spores, the air was thick with them now that the pair were in a ‘hot zone’.

The ginger male stood guard while Aren did his science stuff. Ian knew his basics about this stuff. Enough to survive, he was more physically focused in his training, to be able to outrun a Runner, something that was vital if you want out of bullets, or molotov cocktail…. Those Ian tried to save for if he was dealing with two or more Growths...

[sylvanSpider]

Aren's fingers still held onto the gun with a tight grip until they were well away from the danger where he finally relaxed and put the gun back in its holster. He looked down as if to watch his step, though it worked to enable him to avoid eye contact as his guide spilled his gut wrenching story. “Christ. I see why Serj moved us. We were in a different part of the city initially, but he moved our asses out of there as soon as he could. Got the clearance papers and everything. My brother and I had our...issues...but shit, he would've never allowed something like that to happen and wouldn't wanna be around that shit either.” Aren reached up and pat Ian on the back, “It's alright though now. You didn't hurt his guy and they're in a different sector. Your brother's safe.”

He didn't want to get into the nitty gritty with his own brother, so he hoped that Ian was smart enough to pick up on the past tenses he used in reference to Serj. He was glad he didn't ask. Though he figured if this guide-scientist relationship was going to continue, eventually he'd have to tell him about how his brother was a part of the military, maybe corrupt, but he was always taken care of. Eventually he'd have to tell him about how he'd grown up a massive disappointment to Serj, that repeatedly he'd heard how he wished it was his twin sisters that lived instead, shit, maybe even just one of them. They were athletes. They were strong, and fast. They were like him. “Why would he be so set on Old Money? That shit is worth nothing now. Now it's all in material goods. The world don't work that way anymore.”

The soft ground was relaxing to Aren. They were surrounded by green, everywhere he looked the various shades greeted his eyes. He could see why so many people wanted to leave the city. The green was so lovely compared to the gray of the concrete and brick the city was made of. Aren strapped on his mask, taking out some of the tools necessary for collection, complete with rubber gloves he now slid over his fingers, and bands to make sure the gloves wouldn't slide up. “We won't need to go in all the way just yet. Just wanna collect a few samples to look at under my microscope, see if I can draw some comparisons.” When he realized he probably didn't know what type of comparisons he was wanting to make and what was being compared, he cleared his throat, “Ever hear of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis? It's a fungus that works as an entomopathogen – it turns ants into fuckin' zombies. Well, not only ants. There are a lot of different species, and each species will target a different arthropod. Cordyceps are a type of fungi that aren't...well, they ain't like mushrooms, not the ones we eat for food or a psychoactive good time. They're a sac fungi, and I think that whatever this fuckin' fungi is, I think it's a cordycep related to Ophiocordyceps unilateralis. Unfortunately, even if it is related, scientists pre-Reckoning never tried to find a cure in the ants – it didn't affect us. But, if I can find the system within the body that it attacks specifically, and find something that the fungus doesn't like, maybe I can reverse the effects.”

He crouched down beside one of the old Runners, scraping off a piece in its entirety using one of his tools. His tools came in a variety. Some made by himself based on books he'd read, and others that Serj had brought back for him. He slid a few samples into a baggy and snapped the top shut, “Y'know, technically, mushrooms and cordyceps have the possibility of being poisonous rather than venomous. So theoretically, I could handle these with bare hands so long as you give them a thorough washing after. It's not worth the risk, but I figured I'd spread the info.” As he spoke, he pulled out some white masking tape and a marker, labeling the bag in giant chicken scratch lettering: RUNNER. He then moved to the Growth, collecting samples from that. When he was finished, he held up the baggie close to his face, “Certainly looks like a cordycep..” he muttered.

“What if we set it up in a shit hole area? A place that won't grab attention and off the normal routes? It doesn't need to be anything fancy, just a place to keep my microscope and tools. That's all I'd need. Shit, we could even make it look like it was left behind.” When he was finished collecting samples, he brought out a Polaroid camera, the old kind. The kind that developed pictures right then and there. His brother brought it back for him, complete with film and paper replacements. The old throwaways wouldn't work as there was no longer any place to get film developed, and digital cameras were long gone. This was how he had to go about science. When the picture came out, it was all black and Aren took it and began shaking it and the image slowly started to come into focus.[b] “Thank you for doing this for me. Already, I feel like I learned a lot.”

[PurpleBox]

“Those are big words that i only get the general idea about there Aren.” Ian said evenly, his green eyes wide behind the mask, he’d never heard so many big words… but the Cordyceps word sounded familiar enough that he knew what it meant… and it made sense with how it acted with the human body now. “I’d still wear gloves handling any of this shite.” Ian said, he had put on some old worn leather gloves after he’d put on his mask. He’d been down here without the gloves before and his hands itched for days after...

Ian made a thoughtful noise at the idea… that could work actually… he knew a few spots that looked like complete dumps on the outside enough that no one bothered to check them any more. One place even had a old safe, one that Ian had found the old combo for… and then reset it to one he would know by heart.

“Do you have enough samples? Cause it will take a bit to actually get to a place I have in mind for your little lab.” His words were not spoken in a way that looked down on the other’s brains… since the lab space would be small the words seemed appropriate to the ginger male.

Ian began to lead the way back up into the light, the shadows where growing long and Ian knew that they’d be spending the night at the place he had in mind for this lab setup. “We’ll spend the night at the location I have in mind...but we need to hurry before the army patrols roll out… they always start when the sun in low.” Ian said before they went the opposite direction of the way they’d come.

Through two more rundown buildings and Ian having to use a long metal rod to gently move a bear trap that had been left in the street out of their path, slow and cautious as to not trigger the thing. Ian walked up to the old store front of a abandoned store, its name was faded but inside there were shelves of old things, books, dolls, cloths, it was a small shop, and Ian lead the way to the back room that looked cleaner then the rest of the place. Ian closed the door behind Aren and rolled his shoulders, relaxing a heck ton more then he’d been outside.

“This is one of my ‘safe’ houses. I only use it when i know I’ll be spending the night outside the wall…. It’s off the grid enough that the patrols avoid it and the other scavengers have picked it over enough that they know there is nothing left….” Ian shrugged off his backpack and carefully paid it and the rifle against a wall. There were old tall candles around the back room, ones that Ian had used before instead of a generator.

Ian pulled off the walkie talkie he had and used it. The static filled voice of his brother crackled to life. “Ian hey you staying out?” Tristan asked with a sleeping note to this voice and Ian smiled.

“Yeah… my walk went longer than i thought it would so I’m staying with a friend. Sleep well Pup… and keep an eye out for Gustav in the east tunnel….” Ian said and Tristan made a affirmative noise before Ian put the small device away.

[sylvanSpider]

Aren nodded, glad that the general idea was at least conveyed. It was stuff that Ian didn't necessarily need to know anyway, but it would be enough to prove that his intentions for coming out into the wilds were pure. “Sorry about that, I ah, sorta almost always have my head buried in a book. And since I was always reading, I wanted to learn about something that'd actually be sorta useful. Though, I've been told that this shit ain't useful either, but we'll see about that.” He gave a brief shrug and held up his gloved hands, “Already got that covered. Besides, antibacterial soap is hard to come by these days, and we'd be kinda fucked if we didn't.”

He held up several tightly sealed baggies, wrapped and taped over for extra security, “I've got enough for now. I might need to collect more later, because we might be looking at several different species with different abilities – which is why I'm guessing we get the different types of infected. Just like with the ants. If a cure is even possible, it's likely that different variations will have to be made.” These were the high hopes of the aspiring mycologist, and they were hopes that he realized he may never reach, but he was sure as shit gonna try.

“That's fine. It's not like my place back home is comfortable anyway,” Aren murmured, stalking behind his guide and thumbing through his samples. He'd taken three from each, and took samples from the various parts as well. It was enough to work with initially, but now he was beginning to wish he hadn't left his microscope behind. He'd have to come out here again. Likely, he'd have to come out several times over. He watched as the bear trap (one that he could very easily imagine his own ankle getting caught in) was moved and he felt a shudder run down his spine. “Five o' clock in winter months and six in the spring and summer when the days get longer. I did some snooping and found their schedules.” He didn't mention that he'd pilfered one from his brother once he was sure his brother knew it by heart and wouldn't be missing it should it disappear.

Aren couldn't help but slow down as they passed the books. He picked up an atlas, thankful that they were still making them at the time of the Reckoning and opened it up. “A map of the surrounding area. This'd be useful.” He put the atlas in his backpack. He could set it up in his little lab once it was established. He shut his mouth when he could hear the smaller boy's voice over the walky talky and took in the room's environment. It would be perfect to set a camp up in, and if he could establish his lab here, like Ian seemed to insinuate, it would be perfect.

He looked down hearing the way the brothers spoke to each other. He wished like Hell he could have had something like that with his brother. Now, his brother was gone and there was no chance. Remaining quiet, he unpacked two small, tightly folded blankets, one of which he'd use as a pillow. Having set up his bed, he moved to the table, set down the atlas and began to sift through his findings and (after re-putting on the gloves) started the arduous process of creating slides.