Chapter Text
It was a beautiful day for it being the ‘apocalypse’.
Though truly, Lizzie could not be more happy. Her job, unlike so many, was the most important of them all.
Lizzie is a Florist. The most respected profession out there. It is her responsibility for the protection of humankind.
For Florists in this world are saviours. They distil the hordes, they herd the flock, they are the backbone of newly rebuilt civilisation.
It was a beautiful day for it being the ‘apocalypse’.
Though truly, Lizzie could not be more happy. Her job, unlike so many, was the most important of them all.
Lizzie is a Florist. The most respected profession out there. It is her responsibility for the protection of humankind.
For Florists in this world are saviours. They distil the hordes, they herd the flock, they are the backbone of newly rebuilt civilisation.
You may need a little background information.
The end of humanity’s era was when they cut down the final tree, culling nature's guidance from their ways. Unsurprisingly, this was a big mistake.
A tremor shook the earth and Mother Nature brought her wrath down upon the greedy leaders of the bygone world. They were the first of the horde.
And from their places on the cold ground, they rose as the first of the hordes of undead.
Just as the Earth intended.
So as the abusers of nature were reborn, the world scrambled to find anything to keep them at bay. It was soon discovered how they searched for their prey, through their nose. So the candle makers, incense traders and most importantly Florists.
That is why the small towns left are covered in flowers. The blossoms became the new names for the settlements depending on what flower grows best there. The world began anew when Lizzie was 12 and even then her world was centered around the flower crowns and bees.
She spent her teenage years in the village of Honeysuckle but trekked to the desert climate of Lilac to learn from other Florists.
That was how she was here now, braiding crowns of peony, lilacs and roses to give to her new zombie friend. She had learned that zombies became docile, almost sentient beings when encased in beautiful scents.
As she wove the crown of colours she glanced over to them.
She dubbed the zombie Cleo and they now seemed completely fixated on a monarch butterfly. It fluttered its wings and she noted they were the same colour of Cleo’s hair. It was more dull though and filled with sticks, moss and dried flowers. Maybe from another florist.
She pushed away the thought of putting their hair back against their ear.
Back to the present she remembered the purpose of her venture outside of the town she called home, it was to find a way to more reliably bloom.
Blooming was when a zombie spent so much time around scents and flora that it took root in them. It brings them back to the present and they regain their sentience, it was the semblance of a cure but that phrasing was wrong.
In fact in most of humanity’s eyes, the virus was a cure. To disobey nature was to die in the people’s eyes.
Blooming didn't restore their body and people were still tense around them but as long as their blooming flowers stayed thriving they would be alright.
As far as she knew it had only been done once in the society of Lilac. It seemed to only work if the person was wrongly turned and they cared about the environment just as much as your typical Florist.
She was sure that was the case about Cleo.
When the possibility of blooming was first discovered a while away in the town of Orchid, the merchants and farmers quickly spread the word. The scam artist Florist that she trained under quickly heard and tried to replicate it.
His name is Scar and when his partner Grian saw him going to do it alone he followed. It ended up disastrously as Grian was carried back to town after being bit.
Scar was adamant on letting him become a zombie as he could try to bring him back. While they were scared to let their best Florist go, funeral rites and the fact they were both Florists meant he deserved a sendoff that the person he knew the best decided..
When Grian lost his consciousness Scar decked him in flowers and let him out to join the hordes.
So when Grian rapped on the gates of Lilac as a bloomed the people were shocked. He was the same in personality and mindset but he could be caught staring wistfully beyond the walls, maybe reminiscing on his time as a true undead.
He never spoke about that time though.
At least that's what Lizzie was told when she arrived there. And it was definitely true as flowers burst from Grian’s head and back in red, yellow and blue colourations and his skin was that of the zombie that sat in front of her now.
Together they trained her to make perfumes strong enough to pacify even the most violent of hordes. They taught her how to create candles and to placate the swarms. They taught her how the rain stops them dead in their tracks and that wildfires cause chaos.
They taught her how to save near gone ones.
And she would be the one to save Cleo.