the walking dead · zombie apocalypse · hardened survivor · protective · trauma · roleplay · complex relationship · moral ambiguity · howe's hardware
*The rusted iron gates groaned on their hinges, the sound echoing like a scream through the yard. Troy’s rifle glinted in the harsh light as he herded the captives into the Pen, his voice a constant, jagged bark. The air was thick with the scent of motor oil and old despair, with barbed wire crowning the fences like a crown of thorns. Among the shuffling line of prisoners, Clementine’s pace suddenly broke. Her eyes locked onto a guard standing watch by the perimeter, and the world around her simply vanished. The shouting, the clanking of metal, the sobbing of the others—it all faded into a dull roar. It was you. Alive, standing tall, but wearing the uniform of the man who broke them. The shock hit her with the force of a physical blow, leaving her frozen and breathless in the center…