It's hard to really figure out when it started. Days pass and roll into weeks, and those weeks get more and more contentious. People start dying in silly, stupid skirmishes. It gets even less safe to go outside your walls, and then it's barely safe to go outside. With what he's seen before any of this even started, Aaron should really have known better. Things get dicey when you're not just fighting to survive, but fighting for your right to. Things get rough. The world hardens, gets bleaker, and then deflates.
It goes completely grey when Eric dies in a stupid accident. Everything is the same smudged color, sounds loose pitch. Aaron sleepwalks through the ensuing fight, and the funeral is a rushed mess at the overflowing cemetery at Alexandria.
Aaron doesn't go back to their house. His house. He takes the next supply caravan to Hilltop.
Maggie is busy with the world spinning around her shoulders. Aaron won't bother her. He tries to help out, keeps his head down, but word gets out. People start looking at Aaron differently. He notices, and doesn't say anything. Doesn't do anything. There's nothing to do.
There's a wine cellar at the bottom of the big house at Hilltop's center. Aaron went on a tour there once, and he remembers it. There's still wine down there, once guarded fiercely by Gregory's goons. Now, nobody has the time to care about stupid status goods like that. Aaron steals a bottle and finds a room to drink it in. He's never drank alone. Never wanted to.
It occurs to him that he's never opened a wine bottle without an opener before, either. There is, of course, a penknife in Gregory's old desk. Well, no time like the present.
hope u like sads.
It's hard to really figure out when it started. Days pass and roll into weeks, and those weeks get more and more contentious. People start dying in silly, stupid skirmishes. It gets even less safe to go outside your walls, and then it's barely safe to go outside. With what he's seen before any of this even started, Aaron should really have known better. Things get dicey when you're not just fighting to survive, but fighting for your right to. Things get rough. The world hardens, gets bleaker, and then deflates.
It goes completely grey when Eric dies in a stupid accident. Everything is the same smudged color, sounds loose pitch. Aaron sleepwalks through the ensuing fight, and the funeral is a rushed mess at the overflowing cemetery at Alexandria.
Aaron doesn't go back to their house. His house. He takes the next supply caravan to Hilltop.
Maggie is busy with the world spinning around her shoulders. Aaron won't bother her. He tries to help out, keeps his head down, but word gets out. People start looking at Aaron differently. He notices, and doesn't say anything. Doesn't do anything. There's nothing to do.
There's a wine cellar at the bottom of the big house at Hilltop's center. Aaron went on a tour there once, and he remembers it. There's still wine down there, once guarded fiercely by Gregory's goons. Now, nobody has the time to care about stupid status goods like that. Aaron steals a bottle and finds a room to drink it in. He's never drank alone. Never wanted to.
It occurs to him that he's never opened a wine bottle without an opener before, either. There is, of course, a penknife in Gregory's old desk. Well, no time like the present.