Post by Dakota Snow on May 25, 2016 4:50:12 GMT -5
Dave Fennoy: “Last time on the Walking Dead...”
In the Fall before the third Winter of apocalypse, Clementine and Dakota had been through a lot together since they first met over a year and half before. Missing more friends and family combined than they wished to count, the two friends could consider themselves blessed. They had a core of adopted family friends, old and new, rediscovered and newly made to support them and keep them safe.
They even got to establish declaring holidays like Halloween whenever they want as tradition. Road weary, it was an exciting time too, reunion with many of their old friends and adopted family that circumstances had separated them from over the last year. Reunion at Bear Valley was so close, and yet so far.
To find and help reunite one of those newer friends with his college aged daughter in Ft. Collins, Colorado. It felt good enough to try and help someone else have a happy reunion too, on the way to their own. Getting to Ft. Collins was also a great relief after the scare they all had back at the Eisenhower Tunnel with a group of cultists lead by a man called Brett Bryanson.
None of that spark of hope was to last. In Fr. Collins Brett began to strip away even that little bit of respite and sense of normalcy that every walker and mad man between the Everglades and the Rockies had failed to take away from them. Whether it was a sense of family or a sense of home even if that was in the back of a truck or RV, the girls had always had someone or someplace to hang their hopes on. No matter what else they lost.
Brett and his cultists followed them to Ft. Collins, and ambushed the small group, and began the weeks long pursuit of smashing that hope, normalcy and family to smithereens, and scattering the remains to the wind. Their oldest friends and family figures lost and found and now gone again, gone with new friends alike.
Brett and his people had Clementine alone with the baby boy she had come to think of as her little brother since she and Mark promised a dying father to look after the infant back in Texas. Brett gave Clem a choice, either give up the baby or watch him kill or kidnap the grown member of her adopted family. She couldn't let bad happen to either, so she volunteered to go with Brett, in hopes of taking the first distraction to escape with the baby.
That opportunity came about, and as soon as the cultists took her and the baby, Lee, down to their convention center in Denver, they were separated too. Lee was given to a family to raise, and Clem was put in with the rest of younger children.
Brett seemed to prefer having young minds to mold into his Faithful, but he was not above using narcotics to persuade older less malleable minds to his way of things. Such drugs being a rare commodity, only those who could be of value long term to Brett's flock were lucky or unlucky enough to be brainwashed with or without narcotics. The rest were condemned as Sinners fit to eat.
Lee was a rare prize, a mind so young he would not remember not living anywhere else. Clementine was still young enough her mind might turned in time, and if not, well, she was a girl and Brett's flock could always use more future brides. Some of those precious mind bending drugs might be in her future, if her Salvation could not be obtained naturally.
In the Fall before the third Winter of apocalypse, Clementine and Dakota had been through a lot together since they first met over a year and half before. Missing more friends and family combined than they wished to count, the two friends could consider themselves blessed. They had a core of adopted family friends, old and new, rediscovered and newly made to support them and keep them safe.
They even got to establish declaring holidays like Halloween whenever they want as tradition. Road weary, it was an exciting time too, reunion with many of their old friends and adopted family that circumstances had separated them from over the last year. Reunion at Bear Valley was so close, and yet so far.
To find and help reunite one of those newer friends with his college aged daughter in Ft. Collins, Colorado. It felt good enough to try and help someone else have a happy reunion too, on the way to their own. Getting to Ft. Collins was also a great relief after the scare they all had back at the Eisenhower Tunnel with a group of cultists lead by a man called Brett Bryanson.
None of that spark of hope was to last. In Fr. Collins Brett began to strip away even that little bit of respite and sense of normalcy that every walker and mad man between the Everglades and the Rockies had failed to take away from them. Whether it was a sense of family or a sense of home even if that was in the back of a truck or RV, the girls had always had someone or someplace to hang their hopes on. No matter what else they lost.
Brett and his cultists followed them to Ft. Collins, and ambushed the small group, and began the weeks long pursuit of smashing that hope, normalcy and family to smithereens, and scattering the remains to the wind. Their oldest friends and family figures lost and found and now gone again, gone with new friends alike.
Brett and his people had Clementine alone with the baby boy she had come to think of as her little brother since she and Mark promised a dying father to look after the infant back in Texas. Brett gave Clem a choice, either give up the baby or watch him kill or kidnap the grown member of her adopted family. She couldn't let bad happen to either, so she volunteered to go with Brett, in hopes of taking the first distraction to escape with the baby.
That opportunity came about, and as soon as the cultists took her and the baby, Lee, down to their convention center in Denver, they were separated too. Lee was given to a family to raise, and Clem was put in with the rest of younger children.
Brett seemed to prefer having young minds to mold into his Faithful, but he was not above using narcotics to persuade older less malleable minds to his way of things. Such drugs being a rare commodity, only those who could be of value long term to Brett's flock were lucky or unlucky enough to be brainwashed with or without narcotics. The rest were condemned as Sinners fit to eat.
Lee was a rare prize, a mind so young he would not remember not living anywhere else. Clementine was still young enough her mind might turned in time, and if not, well, she was a girl and Brett's flock could always use more future brides. Some of those precious mind bending drugs might be in her future, if her Salvation could not be obtained naturally.