Nelya from Dusk:Origins

As promised yesterday, I am including some original and exclusive fiction to celebrate the launch of my new collaberative blog serial, Dusk: Origins.

Meet Nelya. To follow more of her story, and the story of Jacob, Cassidy and Frida, check out Dusk: Origins every sunday.

It was the fourteenth day she had woken on her own, without the tribe. She knew this, because she had made marks for each day on a piece of leather she carried. Fourteen marks meant fourteen days. Though, really, it could have been more. There had been days that she couldn’t count, where her arm and her head burned and the fire blurred her memory. There had even been some days that hadn’t mattered at all. Those days she hadn’t marked. There could be two, five or even ten of those days.

But since things had started to matter to her again, there had been fourteen.

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A clumsy girl's guide to surviving the apocalypse.

I have recently been talking a lot with fellow Apocalypse obsessive and friend of ICoS, Jess Shanahan. You may remember her from this guest post, and if you saw it, my guest post over at her blog. Anyway, Jess is very like me. We even live nearby, and as a result have started Apocalypse training (running) together.

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One major thing we have in common is this: we are very clumsy girls.

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I can fall over myself, if nothing else is there to trip me up. I have succesfully become injured after spending a whole day in ed in my pyjamas. I got out to go the the loo, wrapped myself in my sheets by accident, and nearly brained myself on the chest of drawers. It’s not normal clumsiness: It’s the type that gets you killed. I mentioned this to Jess, and she said that running outside was clearly a danger to us, as we’d get chased by murderers and trip on a tree root and die, and I thought two things. The first thought was thank FUCK someone else out there is as insane as I am; The second was- with this lethal level of clumsiness, how are we going to survive the apocalypse?

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It would be sods law if after all this preparation I died because I tripped over a shoelace.

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Post-apocalyptic Politics: The Death Penalty

I’m going to continue Char and ann’s death talk trend this week. Especially since just yesterday I had to extinguish a life for crossing me wrong.

Now, mind you, this life was attached to a spider who’d mistakenly made its way into my bag and probably couldn’t have gotten out if it wanted to. But it was huge and aggressive looking and in MY bag. Spiders can do as they please in the great outdoors but in my bag, in an office building, in the city? You’re gonna die.

This minor infraction[1. To some people who give a shit about spiders and don’t mind reaching blindly into their dark bag to reach back out with a meaty little eight legged monster attached to their arm.], a wrong turn in the wrong neighborhood, resulted in Devil Spider’s vilification and eventual death. Would I have done the same if I had the means and found someone trespassing in my safe spot whilst trying to survive?

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[2. Not likely. Maybe. Hard to say, really.]

In survival situations we know there will be non-mutated predators simply out to take advantage of those weaker than they are, and we know there will be times when we’ll have to weigh the value of someone else’s life against “the greater good.” But when it comes to consequences for crimes and trespasses against us, how do we determine severity.

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Post-Apocalyptic Fashion: The Shoes You Have

I bought a cute pair of shoes the other day. They made me sooo happy… until I wore them. Then, I wanted to bring them to life like Pinocchio just so I could beat them to death.

What if I’d had to out run something? What if my train had stopped in the middle of God-Knows-Where and I’d had to walk or hike or bushwhack? I’d have probably taken the shoes off and gone barefoot.

I felt legitimate visceral Hate[1. yes, with a capital H] for these shoes. So much so that I shoved them in the back of the closet as soon as I got home to prevent myself from accidentally saving them or slipping them on in a fire.

Sure, I’ve said it is important to live with small inconveniences now to help yourself in the long run. This is why I didn’t complain while they were on[5. Complainers go to the wolves]. I suffered in villainous silence, plotting the ruination of those tow-abusing monstrosities.

Another thing I did? I went home and reevaluated my shoe collection and organization. If you have, as I do, a metric shit ton of shoes, you’ll want to consider keeping them in different places. Specifically, some shoes should be by your major exits. I realize to some organized people this is blasphemous. But there is good reason for this:

  • If you keep all your shoes in your shoe closet in your hall/bedroom/guestroom/place that’s not the exit itself,  you run the risk of leaving your home without them if you leave in a hurry.
  • Choice is not always what you need. Sometimes you just need to know you’re weather ready and shoed.

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Steampunk, The Apocalypse and You

In honor of anninyn being away on some steampunk adventure business, I bring you steampunk finds for post-apocalyptic life!

Thing one

An amazeballs free guide to apocalyptic living steampunk style from the talented folks at steampunk magazine. This 56-page guide covers water filtration and storage, assessing your surroundings, self defense, an overview of contagions and much more.

 

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Apocalyptic Fiction: The Fold by Irina Goodwin

How curious, persistent and human, this desire to survive.

It started with my little brother collapsing into his cereal one morning. We were terrified because there’d been a serious bug going around school; of course our immediate thought was that he was seriously ill. We fussed and he got up, went to the kitchen sink and threw up violently but the moment my mother laid a hand on his shoulder he grabbed it and twisted, her fingers and wrist cracking horribly out of position and he bit down on her arm…

That’s how it started for us, though of course it was happening everywhere. I don’t really want to go into the details of what happened to my family suffice to say that they’re no longer with me. I ran and hid and I’ve been running and hiding ever since, avoiding anyone who looked even slightly unwell, and collecting weapons as I went. Continue reading “Apocalyptic Fiction: The Fold by Irina Goodwin”

Post-apocalyptic Healthcare

Last week, my three year old daughter had some awesome and fun medical adventures that required a trip to emergency and a few trips to the doctor’s office.

While I was taking my daughter back and forth from the ER to the doctor’s office (and back to the doctor’s office), I thought about what healthcare would be like post apocalypse. My daughter needed staples to close up a nasty gash on her head and antibiotics to combat an infection. Today, we can get that kind of treatment. But what about during the chaotic days immediately after the apocalypse?

There will probably be first aid and/or emergency stations, at least in the beginning. I’m sure that, regardless of what actually happens, people will be injured and will die during the apocalypse. I’d like to think that there will be places those people can go to get help.

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Liabilities

We’ve told you about Baddies. We’ve suggested the types of people you might meet. We’ve informed you of things to take into account while forming your group.

Now I’m going to list a very specific group of people: Liabilities.

These are people who, despite their skills, despite their talents and charming personalities simply aren’t worth it. Any benefit to having them around is massively overshadowed by how extraordinarily likely they are to get you killed.

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The things I'll miss come the apocalypse.

So, some days I actually long for the apocalypse. You know, I stare at the world and think ‘please please please!’. In fact, just yesterday I told two Londoners that London was the reason I wanted an apocalypse- so it would be deserted and I could enjoy it properly. You know, without Londoners. Fortunately they’ve lived in Norfolk long enough that their immediate response wasn’t to glass me and take my wallet, so I was fine. Maybe a little verbally brutalised.

I’m getting off track.

The point is, that despite my almost certainly unhealthy longing for and obsession with the Big A, there are still some things I’ll miss.

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Allergies: a surprisingly high chance of death.

So, I have allergies. This is supposed to be good, as it means my immune system is horrendously effective (and it’s true, while I get a lot of colds, serious things don’t take me down that easy). Now, this is going to come across a bit first world problems, really, but being allergic to common-place every day things sucks. It sucks now, in a time when if it’s really bad I can go to the Dr’s and get a prescription for an effective antihistimine. How much worse is it going to be when I don’t have recourse to my usual coping methods?

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