DEVEREUX, E.

EZEKIEL AVA DEVEREAUX

I'LL SEEK YOU OUT, FLAY YOU ALIVE; ONE MORE WORD AND YOU WON'T SURVIVE.

PERSONALITY

personality in tropes. ftw, yo.

chaotic neutral: zeke does't stand to take a side. if anything she's would rather be left to her own devices, using an i-owe-you system to operate should she find herself in need of help. however, it doesn't mean that she follows the basic morals that people used to have prior to this mess of an outbreak. She'll steal, fight, and perhaps kill if that ensures that she stays alive. everything she does is for her self preservation, she doesn't fight for anyone but herself, and since the body goes great lengths to keep her alive, she is, in turn, willing to go far to keep herself alive for another day to come. she's not bound by laws other then someone's territory or extending a hand to someone who is in dire need of help. but one is to be sure to understand that she'll only help them because they need it right away, and that once they are no longer in immediate danger or risk of their hearts stopping, she's sending them on their way to fend for herself. one could think of it as her being a free spirit, someone who does what they want when they want, and isn't interested in a goal in the long run, or think about the good or the bad of her actions.

good is not nice: many people seem to associate doing good things with good people. well zeke doesn't believe in it, people who are openly nice and are open of their good actions are most then likely just show offs. as said before zeke isn't particularly a bad person, she's a more of a wildling who tends to follow 'my way or no way' spirit that some have. but she's willing to help someone that is injured, take them in and tend to their wounds, or she'll lend an helping hand if she sees someone who is currently struggling to do something- but while her intentions are generally harmless, don't think that she'll be completely open and friendly about what she's thinking at the moment. no, she's not a bitch, but she can be one. she will assist, but not without a price, and the price is usually to get out of her face as soon as possible before she drives them away herself. she can be rude, blunt, abrasive and brutally honest to anyone she meets, enough to make some people flinch- just because she cured your dehydration doesn't mean you can be staying forever, bud. get up and get out as soon as possible, she didn't get pregnant and ended up with another mouth to feed so the best form of thanks is just scurrying out of her sight before she starts picking a fight with them.

empowered badass normal: as a child she was nothing more then a little shit, but it picked up the traits that had saved her life so many time. with an abusive father, she took a lot of time with the 'shady kids' that smoke and drank. who stole things from the local convenience store for laughs and occasionally made plans to nick the wallet off the important business man who happened to walk past. she'd grow up and drink and get into scuffles with patrons at the bar, causing trouble here and there and running from the cops at some ungodly hour of the morning. she's a sly little shit, and not to mention when her father was on another one of his rampage- she would take cover at her uncle pat's home, who lived his life in a cabin, hunted with bows and arrows and rifles, and learned how to survive for a long time in the walk. she couldn't track for her life, but she's discovered she's not bad at a bow at all. and now, with the outbreak happening, she's taken what she could from her family's homes and her uncle's shop and is spending all of her time learning how to master it, to fight properly and defend herself should she need it. she's adapted to this new world, and while she doesn't have the advantage of a military background, she can easily go down swinging, rather then running away in terror. she spends some time scouring the bookstores for any useful 'how-to books', not to mention taking some advantage of the books her uncle used to buy randomly and leave all over the house- much to his wife's chagrin.

cold equation: this is something that usually sets zeke apart from those who are considered 'nice'. as zeke stands to believe in herself and herself only, and does what is necessary to keep herself alive, she'll be perfectly willing to sacrifice one or two person if it helps her get out. in short, she doesn't think of everyone as each individual, but she considers everyone as a mass- so her actions are 'for the group', and if it means one or two has to go, then it's something she has to qualms about doing. it keeps most people alive and they are able to carry on with the thought of the people who died for them blah blah. that part isn't as important as being alive- and really that's all that she's edging for. she steps back and looks at the picture as a whole rather then studies it with details from one person to the other. usually she'll turn to psychology on 'what does the group do for you' and will pick the most useless person to use as a pawn or a bait.

loners are freaks: the loners are the freaks, and how true this is for zeke. while being a student at a university was nice and she was often mellow around new people, her true nature was always the hermit that stayed inside and on the laptop all day. or at work where she focused on one thing and one thing only, where no one bothered her or talked to her or messed with her in a way that could upset her. finding herself more isolated then ever, she's picked up a few strange quirks that has worked itself into her life for the past year- such as her insistence to never go through he front door, to never talk on Sundays because her family was religious and she needed to talk a moment and think about them, or even have a feeling of utter apathy when it comes to looking or experiencing things that would have made her cry in what seems like another lifetime. she's become socially awkward and closed off, and hard to understand over the years.

HISTORY

a letter pinned to a bedroom door in 42 street in Muir Beach, CA:
"dear james. you would have been thirteen today. if you were anything like the boys i hung around with when they were thirteen you would have been rambunctious, obnoxious, and at that awkward not-fully-mature-but-no-longer-an-innocent-child stage. i had hoped that this year you'd enjoy your birthday rather then lock yourself up in your bedroom as mom and dad fought over who you would be with for the special occasion. despite the little time for us to spend together i hoped i could visit you. you used to call me once every few months, and usually i wouldn't be around to pick up.

i always promised i'd call you back- but i felt like time just wasn't on my side, and every time i tried to clear my schedule, something always came up. i suppose that it's a normal thing, for siblings to never get along, but i've been a horrible sister. and i'm sorry. i really am. and it seems just like 'fate' that when i finally realized what was important to me- it was taken away from me. i'll make it up to you, yeah? just wait for me. i know you're out there somewhere. stay safe for me, alright? it seems so stupid, that it's not until now that i'm suddenly wishing, praying that i'm not the disappointment of a sister that i think you associate me with. one day. one day i'll make it up to you. just give me some time to find you. -zeke"

you've met me at a very strange time in my life.

tape recordings:

6.26:
the fact that these still works bothers me. someone needs to clean out the garage.

8.18:
alright. back at it again. college and work. it seems like that's all there is to life. how funny it is that you have to spend so much money a year just to get an education. mom- i'm doing this for you, so when find this, it's probably because i had the realization that i'll probably be spending the rest of my life paying the money back for tuition, along with bills, payments, rent money and food, and that following this realization i immediately did the sensible thing and put a bullet in my mouth. regardless- other then that i can't say life is all that interesting- through the news has been going on about some shit about a virus. whatever. some religious freaks were knocking on the door, asking me to find jesus before i die by the virus' hands. i promptly informed them that they shouldn't have lost jesus in the first place before slamming the door shut.

8.23:
things doesn't seem to be looking good. apparently the virus is easily making its way around the states and quickly. university my ass. there's been no words from my parents that anything is wrong. james and i talked briefly. he's asking if he'll be seeing me for his birthday. i told him he might. and that if he does see me i'll take him out to dinner or something. i feel like i let him down, telling him that i can't make any promises that i'll be able to. he's my own brother. i'll make it up to him. i will... though sometimes i wonder if all he hears is a recording every time i tell him that. he'll understand though. one day.

10.21:
in all honesty i've just found this again. then maybe i'll have a quick update for whoever finds this. it's- it's something crazy. they're infected. the world now just seems dead, like the ruins of a once great and mighty civilization. i haven't been able to leave the city- and by that i mean we're holed up in the apartment building. but time is running short and i haven't received words from anyone home. i'm not sure how i'm going to get out of here, but really i have no choice.... i've never been religious. i have always believed in what i can see, touch, or experience. but if there was any god- if there was any sense of mercy in the fate of our futures- i'm just hoping that he'd spare my family... my uncle, my aunt, mom, dad... james. please let them be alright.

10.28:
God doesn't exist. no one can save us now.




boxes upon boxes, things that could have been considered valuable was tossed haphazardly into as many trash bags, luggage, boxes of any type before loaded into the back of the old ford truck. no room was left unchecked, unneeded items littered the floor as it was tossed aside, covering the expanse of the tiled and carpeted floors. two pairs of arms lifted, dragged, and shoved everything into the cars, filling up every single space possible. from her home to her uncle's home nearby to his weapons shop- the one that sold everything one could possibly need to hunt- or live in a jungle- or survive the end of the world, everything that could be useful, even if it seemed unlikely, was kept. In a small town of merely three hundred people, only the stench of decaying bodies was present- but not many infected in site. And every time she moved to check the back of the house, she would stop short, where the living room connected to the kitchen that would lead to the back door. it was as if there was a barrier there, an invisible force that caused her blood to run cold and her heart to race.

the feeling of frustration flashed across her face, immediately followed by anger as she clenched her firsts, willing herself to move forward. so simple. one foot in front of the other.but every single time she approached the spot where the tiles met the carpet, where the walls gave way as a doorway to the middle of the room- she stopped, her eyes fixed upon the two rotting figures that laid sprawled out the couch, their blood painted across the peeling paint on the walls; their heads cradling between the back of the couch to the wall- their limbs splayed in an unnatural manner, as if the force of the bullet was close enough for them to be propelled backwards from where they were standing. the daughter, while having little love for her father and a broken relationship with her mother, couldn't continue past the bodies. stricken. unable to move an inch. the absence of a younger body only made the scene harder to stomach. they could have been innocent, and were gunned down. how her uncle and brother managed to get a away was something she knew was probably a mystery that will forever remained unsolved. but she couldn't bear the sight of seeing her mother and father like this- blood soaked, eyes open in terror. and she couldn't handle the thought of how she would take it if she saw james this way either. the caused the bile to force herself up her throat- causing her to choke slightly as she tried to move- step forward, step back. just move.

move, dammit!

but willpower simply wasn't enough. and after a moment she recoiled from the sight, turned on her heels and exited the small house by the front, heading around the back and kicking open the back door, a hand reaching out to grab the edge as it slammed against the wall and ricocheted backwards again. though it's been several years since she had been in the house- it was unsurprising to learn that nothing has changed. and the box of trash bags were still in the pantry (despite her father's dislike and personal preference to put it under the cabinet under the sink). she, without much thought to her actions, gathered up the remaining food that wasn't spoiled, stale, or out of date into the bags before hauling the package of water bottles back outside- through the back from whence she had came from- and on to the second truck, trying her very best to ignore the strange look she was given as she dumped everything unceremoniously in the back.

she didn't have time for a sit down, another talk. another moment to share their feelings, vent and cry on each other's shoulders; and the set of her shoulders made it very clear that she wasn't going to be doing that sort of shit again.

remind me, where are we taking two car-fulls of these?

the question seemed just so stupid that she fought the urge to roll her eyes, exhaustion and wariness weighing her down as she briefly flashed something in her hand before tossing it at him. a key. her father had owned a small place to stay in San Francisco, two story apartment that if she managed to get back in time, she could stake her claim as her own territory. But her family was an unpleasant mixture of street rats and nature junkies- from her family to her cousins three blocks away. She was sure she could salvage what wasn't been taken but was important, but it took time away from travelling from here to san francisco. and, as usual, time was running out.

and yet- it felt hopeless. knowing that her brother was still out there and she was still here just scouting for useful items. she should be out looking for him. but where? dammit! if i had been here sooner! and all the while she refused to allow herself to fully acknowledge the fact of the 'what if's as they come in waves: he may not even be alive at all. and if he was, where was she to look for him? well, you gotta start somewhere, she had reasoned that her uncle knew about the rent in the apartment that her father had taken for god knows why- maybe he was there- if not- she didn't want to think about it, but the idea that perhaps they weren't going to contact her was an option she couldn't ignore. but for now, it was really the only thing that kept her going.

- - -

zeke- james is with me. suffice to say that your mother and father didn't make it. avoid the living room if i were you. remember the cabins that we used to go to to teach you how to use a gun? we'll be there. if you see this, come and find us. until then. stay safe, you hear me? don't do something stupid now. if you need weapons my shop is locked and emergency rifles and others are there- you should know where where they are (assuming someone else didn't beat you to it). hurry up.
-uncle p.

and yet, when i arrived at the cabin you weren't there.



dayum. that's a strong arm you've got there.... who taught you? certainly didn't expect to see that from a tattoo chick who majors in graphic design.

"because you didn't think this chick was a delinquent who caused trouble to stay away from home and impress the sketchy people she used to hang out with in high school."

leaning against the doorway of the story story apartment complex, a slim finger of five feet seven watched the two cars- two brothers drive off into the distance. while before there would have been a few more cars following behind- that day- it was silent. just the rumble of the two beat up toyta on the road to nowhere. nowhere to run and hide and get away. after a moment the figure lets out a scoff before crawling back inside her cave, shutting it and locking it before stepping into the bedroom on the first floor down to the first level, landing on the mattress of the bed that was already set up there prior to her arrival. outside, a stolen black ducattii was resting on its stand, turning to face the wall. the female stared at it for the longest time before heading over to remove the carp that covered it, uncovering the new bike like opening a present on christmas day.

she sat in complete silence. it didn't take long, but it was merely one of those things where the answer had always been there, it was just the acceptance of it that was hard. the truth was nothing short of horrifying. slim fingers immediately began to wrestle the lighter as she pulled a cigarette from the box that was on the nearby boxes, coaxing the flame to life as she hurried, with quick fingers to light it up before taking a long slow drag, her head falling forward as she tossed the lighter side, running her hand through her hair as she shook her head. there was no future. there was no hope of a better one either; no way to make things easier, no promise of a permanent cure, no Resurrection of civilization, no happy ending to this story. from here out- it was nothing but survival. every being for themselves. adapt or die. fight or be killed. in a world there they've become nothing but animals- either predator or prey, how was a thirteen year old boy going to survive it for long? in fact, even if she could get james back, what was the point of it all? she could hardly even take care of herself in the future, let alone also for him. it leads her to wonder- in all her stubbornness and pride, her drives that motivated her to keep going- in a time of her life where she had no real prospects in the future- that she was merely a target, was it cowardice from death, or stupidity that kept her from biting the bullet now?




look, zeke. i don't want you to hang around uncle pat too much. study hard, for me. i have high expectations for you. you're a bright girl, someone who as a habit of always being so absorbed in everything you do, along with a certain interest of standing out compared to the people around you. i don't want you to end up like the drunk that is your father- pathetic, going nowhere, relying on alcohol to get things done. i don't want you to end up like your uncle either- a fat, lazy man who is completely wild and considered a hillbilly or redneck by the people around him- while i know you like to talk to him because he teaches you how to use a weapon and track and live in the wild, that's not the life i want from you.

please remember that violence isn't the answer, and unless you are defending someone or yourself- under no circumstances do i want you to pull the trigger for any other reason, you got it? and, most importantly- don't end up like me; working full time seven days a week, cleaning up after your father's mess and crunching every penny to get by. don't you ever think you have to be with a man who thinks that hitting you is okay under any circumstances. don't make that mistake like i did, alright? if he touches you in any negative way: pack your bags and leave. you hear me? stay in school, don't do anything that could put your life into the shit hole. this isn't the life you wanted to grow up in, so do something about it- change the future.

remember that i love you, and i'm so sorry that i wasn't the mother that you probably deserve. i wish we spoke a little more, i wish we spent a little more time together... i wish... i wish i had raised you differently so you'd be happy. so that i didn't have to take you to the doctors for bruises and bumps while i'm at work and you're at home with your father. and... and i want to do right with james too- so try to be there for him, okay?

it's quite funny how much we regret things. i wish we had spent more time together. you and me both, mom. you and me both.

maybe james wouldn't be so miserable if i was there for him too. maybe i wouldn't have grown up to me so bitter had you actually been there for me. maybe i wouldn't have been abused if my dad had been there like a proper, responsible adult instead of the sad, sick, stupid drunken fuck that he has turned out to be shortly before having me. and i found it so contradictory that as you tell me to never let myself become a victim in a relationship- you never left him either. but i suppose telling james that everything would be okay, yet never returning home to see him is also as contradictory. do you suppose it just runs in the family? the apple clearly doesn't fall far from the tree.

meet the real world coming out of its shell
i won't let this happen to my children.

hey, it's zeke. i'm probably not busy. i'm probably am avoiding someone i don't like. leave a message and if i don't call you back then it's probably you

zeke? when are you coming home? you promised you'd call me when you get there. i have something for your birthday, so make sure you drop by so i can give it to you. anyways, dad when to his first AA meeting a few days ago. i thought you said things would get easier from now on? yesterday he threw the lamp across the room, slapped mom and stormed out of the house.

zeke come back and pick me up, because i really think he's going to yell at me when he gets home tonight, even if i'm not doing anything wrong. zeke? answer the phone! i need you.

- - -

james, sorry it's late, i was working a closing shift. i'm sorry, i can't come back. and he won't hurt you- you know i gave you the phone for a reason, if he hurts mom call the cops, if you think he's going to hurt you, lock the doors and go in the closet. you can always call uncle pat to pick you up if you are uncomfortable staying in the same place as he is. i'm not sure how often i'll be able to talk to you- but i'll try to call you every week or so, okay? i'm sorry- i wish i could be there or take you with me, but i can't. just be strong for mom, i know you can do it. and i'm glad you remembered my birthday! i'll come home as soon as possible, alright?

a is for academics, b is for beer. if you're hearing this, one of those is the reason why i'm not here.

hey zeke. i don't want to call uncle pat. even if he took me out of the house for a day or a weekend i'll have to come back, and it only makes him more mad. and also drinking a lot, what do i do? i don't want to leave mom here with him... b-but he's scaring me. i'm scared. will you come home? for a birthday present? i promise i won't bother you too much, you don't even have to buy me anything! just you seeing us is good enough...

- - -

your birthday? it's someone's birthday soon? well, if he's good then maybe he'll get a surprise visit. and as for dad, don't do anything- i'll handle it when i get there. i'm sorry this took so long to reply, i just don't have the time to set aside to call you when you're awake so we can talk face to face- so this message is long overdue, considering i just realized that it's going to be hard to get call you and have you answer and have the time to talk to me. i'm sorry that i'm not there for you. i'll make it up to you, we'll go out and eat and see a movie together, okay? love you.

hey i can't come to the phone right now, i'm currently out making life changes. if i don't call you back then you might be one of them.

zeke. something is happening here. our neighbors are acting strange, uncle pat had picked me up last night and now he won't let me leave the house- he turns off all the lights and kept the room void of any light at night- and he boarded up the windows. he won't tell me what's wrong. what's happening zeke? when are you getting home? there were some people who came into town and killed a lot of our friends. please call, let me know you're okay.

last message dated two days before zeke's arrival to muir beach.

INVENTORY

SURVIVORS are allowed two weapons, and one inventory slot.

• Survival knife: It was taken from her uncle's shop, having heard him happily praising how well it did on 'some weekend ago' excursion that had somehow required him to cut wood or one thing or the other- she wasn't really paying attention, though now that she was in her current deposition, she wished she did. It is her main weapon default weapon that she'll use for close combat.
  
• Compound bow: With a set of twenty arrows. She'll only use it if it's absolutely necessary. She's found that using a bow and arrow isn't her thing and not to mention she's never had much experience in it anyways, other then the off days where her uncle would teach her if there's no one at the shop and it was dead quiet. Her aim can only be described as fair, but guns run out of bullets, arrows could be reusable. At least that's what she's telling herself to justify keeping the bow, though she believed had her uncle been alive- or saw her now- he'd tease her endlessly for lack of knowledge in it. Though the internet and whatever books she could find on how to use one has worked wonders, really.
  
• dog tags on a chain: from their doberman- micky. she knew that uncle pat had planned on giving him the three year old, completely potty trained canine to james so he would have someone there to support him when he is going through tough times. the times that james was with his uncle, he spent a lot of times petting micky and spoiling him with treats. the dog was dead when zeke arrived at the shop, but keeping the tags that held his name and number was something of a mento; either as a goodbye to her family or keeping it to remind herself to keep hope alive, it's not know. maybe it's a mixture depending on what she's feeling at the moment. she's seen sporting it around her neck.
  

OTHER

OUT OF CHARACTER