indie older!ellie from the last of us

created: july 2013

status: online

currently: open for plotting !

tuusvirvespertilio:

          I wandered lonely as a cloud
          That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

It was a tried and tested method for ignoring the gnawing hunger of his belly which kept him from falling asleep. A way of distracting himself so his mind didn’t dwell of what he didn’t have. His father had taught him. Part of the essential learning for any survivor, he’d said, was to train your mind to focus on things other than physical discomfort. Stiles’ dad’s trick was to recite the names of all the friends he’d loved and lost which always struck Stiles as being morbid. But he understood. It wasn’t the subject matter that was important; it was the activity of remembering.

          When all at once I saw a crowd,
          A host, of golden daffodils;

Had the world not been the way it was, Stiles probably wouldn’t have been one for poetry, but after finding a book of collected poems in a long since abandoned house, he’d found he liked the rhythm of how they read. The poems conjured images of a life he’d never know and sparked awe as well as melancholia. Night after night, whenever he was able, he read the poems over and over, committing them to memory just in case he ever lost the book. Now, he called to mind one of the verses, silently reciting it to himself to keep from thinking about his stomach. 

          Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
          Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Her footsteps were unmistakable and Stiles held his breath, mentally preparing himself to fend off an attack. But none came; instead she spoke to him almost kindly and he cracked open his eyes to look up at her before opening them fully and pushing to sit up. Food. She was sharing her food with him - why? Gaze flicking between the woman and her offering, he was hesitant in case it was a trap, but need overruled caution and he pulled the small meal towards him.

“Thank you,” he breathed, surprisingly emotional over the gesture, which was ridiculous and he inwardly chastised himself for it. Biting experimentally into one of the beans, he groaned loudly at the burst of flavour on his tongue and then it was gone. Another followed then a third before he forced himself to pause and take a breath.

“I’m Stiles." 

 _{A small smile curled at her lips as he thanked her for the food. Eyes shifted to the debris-littered floor as he consumed the beans, her shoulders slouching lightly before he spoke once more. A name. Ellie glanced up under dark lashes, lips parted to speak.}  

     _{❝ Ellie.❞} 

 _{It was not the first thing that came to mind - sharing names, yet it provided some sort of comfort for the young woman. In the world she survived in -battered and crushed by an infection she was immune to - most she collided with either wanted to steal or jam a knife into her throat out of fear. Sometimes, most times, there was little time to learn about strangers, even something as simple as a name. Perhaps she could take advantage of the situation she was in, even if only for a little while.}

_{She pushed herself up from where she crouched, legs stiff from the position she had been in. A few strides towards the chair and Ellie scooped up the remaining food she saved for herself. She returned back to the same spot next to him, this time settling on the floor with her legs crossed in front. It took her seconds before she began to eat again. She tore off some more meat and popped it between her teeth.} 

      ❝ _{So, you got a group?} ❞ 

tuusvirvespertilio:

When the female relaxed, so did he a little, glad that his reassurances appeared to be sinking in. As she turned away, he let out a sigh of relief. He really did just want to rest, although whether he’d be able to with her in the vicinity, he didn’t know. It probably wasn’t wise to take his eyes off her for too long. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’d thought someone was okay and they turned out not to be. A lesson hard learned and never forgotten. Still, she seemed to be making herself at home and he took that to be a good sign. 

Lying back, he settled his head on his bag again and stifled a yawn behind his hand. Perhaps sleep wouldn’t be all that difficult after all. Eyes heavy, they began to close and his breathing evened out. He was just drifting off when he heard a noise and cracked open one eye, lifting his head just enough that he could see what she was doing. Unpacking her bag, by the looks of things. Watching her curiously, he saw what appeared to be food and barely quelled his soft moan of hunger. 

He wouldn’t ask her to share and when she glanced his way, he quickly closed his eye again and pretended to be asleep. Lucky for her that she had food, he mused, as well as a safe place that she’d claimed as her own. Fortune was rarely on his side, unless you counted his still being alive. Quite how he’d managed that, he wasn’t sure. Certainly, he’d found himself in more than a few sticky situations, yet had managed to get himself out of them too. Here was hoping that this wouldn’t turn out that way. 

Could he smell meat? He thought he could, but it could just be a figment of his imagination, knowing that she was eating something and just assuming it to be meat. Whatever it was, it set his stomach growling loudly and hollowly. Still not going to ask for some, though. He had faced worse, though. Sometime last year, he’d gone three weeks without eating until one day, he stumbled upon a house which, by some merciful fate, still had a few cans of food in the larder. He’d almost eaten himself sick, exercising little to no self control and gorging himself on what he found. Another mistake he wouldn’t repeat.

She could hear the all too familiar sound of one’s stomach, and for once it was not hers emitting the growl. Hunger was something Ellie had to endure on a daily basis, and despite being part of a community, food remained heavily rationed. There were times when she came across food advertisements or recipe books and read them, bewildered. It was bizarre how much they had, and so much variety, too. If Ellie had been around before the virus she wouldn’t know what to indulge in. 

She glanced down at her food before speckled green eyes shifted back to the man on the floor. His eyes were closed, but she was unsure if he was asleep or not. In Ellie’s case, it normally took her a good half an hour on a good night to drift into a slumber, so she figured if he was anything like her then chances were he’d still be awake. She began to split the meat in half, figuring that she could survive without some if she was returning to the power plant at sunrise. She then grabbed a few beans –not too many, she liked the beans– and placed them atop of the same packet as the meat. With the meal roughly split in half, she then placed her half of the meal on the floor before she got up from the chair, the wood creaking a little as she did so, and made her way over to the male on the floor. Ellie crouched beside him, sliding the food his way. 

    ❝ I can hear your stomach from over there, y'know, ❞ she spoke quietly, wondering if he would open his eyes or not. Being part of a community, Ellie sometimes forgot that there were still people out there alone and trying to survive. She still remembered that one winter, it must have been a good eight years ago now, when she was alone, fighting for survival as well as trying her damned hardest to keep an injured man stable. It had been one of the scariest experiences of her life, but one she had to endure if she wanted to keep Joel safe. 

tuusvirvespertilio:

No, he most certainly was not going to move, by his own accord or otherwise. With his mind made up, he could be quite stubborn about it. His boots were off, his bedroll down and Stiles had made himself at home as much as he was able; not going anywhere, his defiant glare stated in no uncertain terms. But he wasn’t after trouble. If it came down to a fight over the safe spot, he’d play his part, but it wouldn’t be the ideal scenario. Compromise would be better, but that was a concept lost in this world, more was the pity.

“So stay. I don’t care. But I’m staying too.” The woman could surely see that he posed no immediate threat. There was no weapon in his hands, nor anywhere in sight. He was just a worn out boy, looking for a place to crash. As she moved towards him, he scooted back, his bedroll shifting on the floor. Her lack of trust was no surprise and it was mirrored in Stiles’ own feelings. Trust was another concept lost by humanity. “When your other people arrive, they can stay too. Plenty of room for all of us. Hey, maybe we can have a party.”

Sarcasm was a natural defence mechanism, brought into play in lieu of any other weapon. He was armed, but unfortunately both the pistol he carried and his hunting knife were both in his pack. It was an error on his part and one he may yet come to regret. With a sigh, he held up both hands and looked at the female. “Look, you can clearly see that I’m no threat to you. I just want somewhere to sleep. I’m not going to take anything of yours, I’m not going to attack you. I just want to rest.” 

The dark circles under his eyes were indicative of his exhaustion. Tanned from spending so much time walking under the sun, he might give the impression of appearing healthy, but under his clothes, he was skin and bone. Stiles’ last meal consisted of a handful of berries and before that, he couldn’t remember. A full on fight in his current condition wouldn’t end well.

Plump lips parted and dark brows raised when he told her he didn’t care. That was a line she hadn’t heard from any stranger before. Normally they were brutal, weapon in hand and ready to claim what was ’theirs,’ but not this guy. His only goal seemed to be getting a decent rest. 

   ❝ I’ll bring the cake, ❞ she replied sharply. Ellie could use sarcasm when it suited her, which had become more frequent over the years and peaked when faced with unfamiliar features. There was nothing worse than appearing weak to the enemy, and even if she did feel threatened, a quick retort could always mask fear, even for a short amount of time.

    When he told her he was no threat, Ellie frowned, the grip on her blade loosening as she brought it closer to her side. If he had meant to harm her, then wouldn’t he have attempted to do so by now? He was still on the ground, making it simple for Ellie attack, so for now she would leave him be. Hands raised in front of her slightly, as if to signify she understood. 

  ❝ Fine. I get it. ❞ She turned on her heel to grab a chair that was still intact. If he wasn’t going to hurt her, then Ellie wouldn’t hurt him. She would let him rest whilst she waited, and once her partner returned she could decide how matters played out from there. After finding a chair that was still usable, Ellie picked it up, knowing that dragging it would only attract unwanted visitors. She set it down a few feet from the male so he remained in her sight. Shrugging her backpack from her shoulders, the young woman set the worn fabric down on the ground before she began to rummage through it. A few shotgun shells, an old diary and– ah-hah ! She pulled out two small packets and opened them up: some dried horse meat in one and green beans in the other. Some of the beans had been eaten on the way to the city, but she had made sure to save the meat for when she had found somewhere safe to enjoy it. That was one of the perks of living in a community; food had time to grow which meant you weren’t left scavenging for it.

   She pulled off some of the meat and shoved it between her teeth, speckled green eyes soon shifting up to the man on the floor. Was he alone? Had he eaten? When was the last time he had gotten rest? Not that she particularly cared, but the questions still popped into her mind. She opened her mouth to ask, but quickly decided against it, instead glancing back down at her meal. 

tuusvirvespertilio:

If there was anything to eat in the diner, it had long since gone. Picked clean, no doubt, by someone much like himself. A survivor, taking what they could, where they could. It was always disappointing getting there too late because too late meant going hungry yet again. But small mercies were to be found, like the fact that he was alone in the building, with no infected, no savages aiming to gut him, no enemies. No friends either, but he was used to that. Friends were overrated, he was sure. 

Finding himself a nice little spot, away from the broken glass from the smashed in windows, Stiles laid out his bedroll and sat down heavily. His feet ached from walking and he was certain that even his blisters had blisters. Not bothering to stifle a yawn - there was nobody around, so no need to be polite - he worked the knots out of his laces and pulled off his boots. They were at least one size too big for him, but he got around that by wearing two pairs of socks, which helped cushion his feet whilst walking. 

Lying on his back, backpack his pillow, Stiles stared up at the ceiling and tried to relax. If he slept a few hours now, he mused, he could go out later and try to do some scavenging around town. Dusk was a good time for wandering, he’d found, when the shadows were easier to hide in. His body made the choice for him and before too long, he was drifting off into much needed sleep. He could only have been out for a few minutes when he was awoken abruptly. Ears, attuned to listen out for the slightest noise which might indicate danger, picked up the sound of footsteps approaching. 

Eyes snapped open and he lifted his head in time to see someone come into view. Female, armed, potentially dangerous and staking a claim to his hideaway. There were two choices here: acquiesce or make a stand. If he chose the former, there was still no guarantee of his getting out of there safely and if he went for the latter then he was inviting trouble. Where else would he go? He’d picked this location for a reason and he just wasn’t willing to give it up easily. Lifting his chin, he eyeballed the woman.

“Yeah, it is. So scram.”

   Dark brows tugged together at his retort; it was evident that the male was not going to budge on his own accord. She wasn’t surprised by the fact, not many people would happily get up, kindly apologize, and then head back out into danger. That would have been the brunette’s preferred outcome, so his remark caused her eyes to narrow in annoyance. Perhaps he had taken claim to this place before them, she didn’t know, but Ellie had to stay here, otherwise her chances of meeting up with her partner would be slim.

   She kept her blade by her side; Ellie was in no mood to cause more trouble than need be, yet she would have felt more at ease if this situation had not occurred in the first place. She could not trust new people, especially since she had experienced many who had deceived her. Of course, there were those rare occasions where you did meet someone genuine, but finding someone like that was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. 

  She advanced towards the male who lay among shattered glass and other debris, and once she had reached him, green eyes looked down at the man who told her to ‘scram.’  

❝ I’m staying right here,❞ she began. She would not leave either, this was her place to rest. ❝ I have other people, y'know. They’ll be here any minute. ❞ Alright, maybe not they, but it was someone, nonetheless. She just wished he’d hurry the fuck up. 

tuusvirvespertilio:

He’d never known a world other than this one. No malls full of shoppers, no cars rushing by on the road, no school. The remnants of that world filled him with fascination and he tried to imagine what it must have been like to walk along a bustling street, with car horns, voices, music on all sides instead of the painful, lonely silence he usually endured. The closest he’d come to anything like that was when he was younger and his dad was still alive. They’d lived in a commune of sorts, holed up in an old underground station, eating old cans of beans and living as one big, extended family. 

Someone got sick. A little kid, even younger than he was, and nobody knew how or when. People got paranoid and the kid disappeared. At the time, Stiles didn’t really understand what was going on. He wasn’t even sure he fully understood now. Over the years, he’d read things, heard stories, but that didn’t make it much clearer. All he knew was that once upon a time, people didn’t have to live like this and although it was a life he’d never had, mourned for it nevertheless.

After the outbreak, the commune disbanded and Stiles and his father struck out on their own. Everywhere was fraught with peril and one night, their camp was set upon by bandits. Stiles escaped with his life only by playing dead as the bandits ransacked their meagre belongings, but his dad wasn’t so lucky. Alone in the world, Stiles decided that was how he’d remain. No attachments, nobody else to worry about but himself. Just a boy on his own in the world.

Then he heard about them, the Fireflies, and for the first time since burying his dad, Stiles felt the need to belong somewhere. A yearning for companionship which was so utterly defining of a human. He tried to find them, but every camp he came across had been long since deserted. He’d pick through them, scavenge what he could and hunt for clues to their next location. So it went on, with his feet carrying him as far as he could go before pausing to rest, eat, bathe if he was lucky enough to be near water. But despite his travels, he was still alone. 

Where his most recent bout of wanderings had brought him, he wasn’t quite sure. A big city, probably thriving at one point in the past but now a desolate ghost town. Stores boarded up, vehicles abandoned in the street and now rusted with grass growing up through the engine. Avoiding the infected in a city was more difficult than out on the highways, so he kept to the shadows, checking doors, listening carefully until he found an old diner which appeared to be safe. Making his way inside, he gazed at the décor, all faded and tattered, but showing a hint of what was once bright, vibrant colours. This would do him for a night at least. Somewhere to rest his weary head and gather his strength for the next long trek. 

It had been a couple of nights since Ellie had left for the city. Her home, the one place where she had grown to feel safe, had begun to crumble at her fingertips. It wasn’t the beacon of hope it had once been, not since a large portion of their defenses were left in ruins after a raid. Of course, it wasn’t uninhabitable, their power supply was still intact, however with fortifications currently weak, it had become easier for infected to pass by and bandits to take advantage. Before she left the power plant, Ellie had never seen so many defending the walls.

   She had decided to head into the dead city in search of supplies – anything that would help them rebuild. Ellie traveled with another in an old, but still working, pick-up truck. They had spent the last two nights undetected in an old diner. The walls, once plastered with advertisements and menus, were now faded and rotten. Despite all the stories she had heard, Ellie was still unable to fully imagine what it must have been like, no matter how hard she tried. It frustrated her, knowing that she’d never be able to experience this wonderful world so many craved. It must have been easier than this: no infected; no humans who had turned savage. 

   Ellie was on her way back from a long day of scavenging much needed supplies. She had decided to go alone, agreeing with her partner that splitting up could result in collecting more supplies, which meant replacing more of what was lost during the raid. However, Ellie had not done too well. Everywhere had been picked clean, leaving the young woman in a sour mood. With the night falling upon her in not too long, Ellie decided to make her way back to the diner. There she would wait for her partner, suggest that they make tracks the next day, and then attempt to get some rest. 

   She arrived to the sound of movement, causing fingertips to brush past her holstered pistol. She assumed, hoped, it was her partner, yet Ellie knew that you could never be certain. She sneaked through the diner, switchblade in hand as she passed broken tables and dusted seats. It wasn’t long before green eyes fixated on the figure not far from her; a figure that caused the grip on her blade to tighten. It definitely wasn’t her partner, no, this stranger’s build was smaller. Before she made another movement, the brunette parted her lips. 

                  ❝ This place is claimed. ❞