"Fear not for the future, weep not for the past." -Percy Bysshe Shelley
97 after the nuclear apocalypse, planet Earth is left simmering in radiation, while the rest of mankind remains in space. No one has been to the ground ever since the bombs wipe...
(Disclaimer, Beatrice Wisdom Wardis portrayed by Jemimah Lendel. The year is 2149) ✧Small warning: There will be swearing included throughout the book so if you are not comfortable with that then perhaps this isn't the book for you. Though I hope you stick around to at least try it out.✧ ✧Thank you, readers, so much for 12212 reads and 229 votes! It still shocks me to this day that people would actually take the time to read my stories. Again, thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter!✧
☺This story part is also dedicated to 5darkmoons for being such an amazing reader for giving me the ideas to create the improved outfit for Beatrice so definitely go check them out!☺
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↑↑↑This is what I imagine Beatrice's outfit to be when she is sent down to Earth. If you want to change the colors or the whole outfit overall, I won't stop you from using your imagination.
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☾Recap☽
I don't know when I fell asleep but soon enough the adventure called 'Life' began...
☾End of Recap☽
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3rd Person POV
As her young, pale beryl eyes swiftly closed, her pint-sized frame unknowingly curling into the torso of her 'big brother', he smiled gently. He had shifted her slightly so her neck would not cramp when she woke later. It would ultimately ache for hours if so. Monty, with a slight smile on his pale face-most likely from the years inside a floating metal ship-turned to glance at the joyous form of his best friend, who he considered his brother.
"She looks so innocent," he said, peering at the calm facade that had taken over Beatrice as she slept.
"And hopefully it will stay that way," Jasper, the optimistic person that he is, responded.
"Yea," Monty's voice started to fade off at the end, "hopefully."
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"C'mon, Mont. We gotta go meet with the others," Jasper informed his friend. He nodded and, still keeping a firm hold on Beatrice, trailed behind his tall counterpart until they reached a small group of three. All different. Yet, all with one goal; survive.
The only female, or Princess, courtesy of a certain former spacewalker. She was about average height, but not nearly 6 feet and pale (it seemed to be a usual thing with a select group of delinquents). Her head was topped by sallow blonde hair that might have framed her head nicely if it was fully let down from its ponytail. They paired very well with her bluish-gray eyes (a very rare sight on the Ark). She was dressed in black pants, a dirty, olive-colored henley top tucked into her pants and finally, a worn-down navy blue army jacket overtop. Her face bore a constant deadpan expression, she was obviously someone you did not want to mess with. Based on recent conversations, Monty could decipher her name was Clarke Griffin.
