![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Only Lovers Left Alive
( shipping meme )
In a more normal time, this person would never be your type, if you even had one. But these days are nothing like "normal" in the least. The world, as it was, has ended, after all. The means don't matter: fire, ice, apocalyptic continent shift, zombies, despotic government that makes you wish for the former. All you're left with is the ashes of our former world and danger at your tail because you, lucky you, have survived. Having your pick or your type is a luxury you don't have; even if you did, it would be an extremely low priority.
As such, this situation, this relationship with this person hardly started out with any romantic intentions. It may have not even begin friendly. You came together out of necessity in order to survive, yet things got dicey as you learned to rely more and more on each other. When both of you feel as though you've lost everyone who'd ever been important, human contact is taken where you can get it. The more you rely on to watch your back, the more you rely on them for mere survival, the more you begin to rely on them for everything, in a way. While what you have between you started differently, it's grown and changed into something you can't describe. Still, you hold on for dear life, because even if you don't want to live for yourself anymore, you owe it to them to survive. This isn't love. It isn't healthy. It's codependency, probably, but it's a way to live.
What if they're not as much of a survivor as you, though? What if they're weak? What if you are?
...what if you lose them like you've lost everyone else?
HOW TO PLAY
- Comment with your muse and preferences.
- Reply to others.
- Plan something out or just wing it!
Re: Kyungsoo
(Anonymous) 2015-01-10 06:36 am (UTC)(link)It was obviously a bad idea. The area was far too foreign and the scent of rot and death made his stomach churn and if it weren’t for the fact that it was pathetically empty, Chanyeol would’ve probably emptied its contents already. It didn’t matter that he had experienced this all countless numbers of times already, it was something that he still couldn’t get used to. That was what probably led to his carelessness, his attempts to bat away the stench ended with him clumsily knocking the back of his hand against a crooked shelf in the random grocery store they were in. The sound was loud and the crunch of weak metal falling to the ground unmistakable and he knew that it had attracted unwanted attention.
It’s the smell that usually hits first, followed by the ungodly sounds of the dead that made Chanyeol curse before shouting out: “Kyungsoo, run!” He knew that the other wasn’t too far off, probably just a aisle or two away, but they had to get out of that death-trap of a building and fast. There was definitely something in there (there wouldn’t be a smell if there wasn’t) and if they weren’t quick, whatever was lingering around outside might catch on to them and try to find them, too. “Kyungsoo! Kyungsoo, where are you?!” Chanyeol cried out frantically as he stepped around the random mess of broken glass and knocked over shelves. “Kyungsoo—argh!”
This was one of the main reasons why they didn’t do this at night, because the lack of light made even the simplest of things a literal death trap. He felt himself tumbling down to the ground before he could bring his hands out to brace his fall, his ankle rolling on something (the source of his fall) while a sudden sharp pain suddenly takes over his side. “Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol cries out again, obviously pained as he tries to push himself up to find the other, the pain on his side protesting while his ankle throbbed and a feeling of dread immediately took over.