Realistic or Modern 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 — at the end of the world

[SlaughterMelon]

Scene One
The Convoy​

Jack stood silently, as he tended to do. Not a large talker, just a large man. He preferred to speak through actions, and at the time those actions consisted of “stand there and shut up while the boss gives his speech.” As such, he had sort of tuned out and allowed Cabrera’s words to fade into a dull hum as he scanned the high school. It kind of reminded him of his high school as a kid, not that he was a particularly good student.

He looked as the people filed out of the building and desperately hoped that things would go peacefully. Some of these people were kids. Teenagers. It brought him back to the things he had seen overseas and would have continued to see if not for the outbreak. It made him think of Megan, and then of Jessica. He pushed those thoughts down. It was not the time.

Suddenly, he was pulled back to reality as one of the teenagers began yelling and running for Cabrera. He began to move to grab her, but the shout of a bomb came soon after and he quickly unholstered his weapon.

The worst thing about shooting another person is keeping your eye open through the sights while you do it. Watching yourself. Ingraining a vision that will stick with you forever. Jack knew that, and he had lived it over and over again, but never like this. Time seemed to slow as the firing pin hit the primer, the primer ignited the powder, and the cartridge hit its target. There was no need to fire again as the teenager fell to the ground, as silent as the smoke rising from the barrel.

Jack is a man to speak through actions, and he was immediately in fear of what this one had to tell.

 

[Miaow]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy​

Minnie stumbled forward as Miyu shoved past her, practically running through her. Suddenly, she was surrounded by noise, everyone leaping into action to try and prevent the inevitable. She was frozen in fear. Her legs were locked in place, only able to watch as they grappled to stop her.

BANG

Miyu hung in limbo for a moment, her weight balancing her on her feet... before she collapsed backwards, thumping against the concrete. Blood began to pool behind her head, matting her hair against her skull. Her eyes were open... but lifeless, her stare locked on the sky above her. As she lay still, her hearing aid fell from her ear...

For a moment, there was silence.

Minnie flinched as something wet hit her face... it was only a few droplets, but to her... it felt like she had been showered in it. She wanted to know what it was. Maybe it was just... a coincidence, some rain had been unsettled from a nearby tree or some condensation from a window... but she knew that wasn't true. Her arms were stiff, aching painfully as she tried to move them.
"Fuck, I'm gonna be sick..." Haewon muttered beside her, covering her mouth with her hand. Pandora placed a hand on her shoulder, swallowing the lump in her throat as she turned her around. The blood pooling around Miyu's head, the way her eyes hung open, Pandora knew there wasn't much she could do. Someone had to pronounce the death... but she'd never seen something like this before. She was a surgeon, patients came to her unconscious and ready to be cut open... She felt a pang of guilt as she hoped Mack was up to the task...

Minnie didn't want to look but her body rejected every signal she sent it, her eyes beginning to water the harder she tried... Her throat was tight as she swallowed. Haewon didn't notice. She just prayed someone would grab her, would cover her eyes.

NanLia Bullyboy Squad ​

 

[Aegis]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

Connor writhed in noticeable discomfort at the way Sam clutched Tanner. His neck throbbed with ropes of thick muscle as he physically strained to hold back the anger that was welling in his mind causing his face to burn red with rage. The ex-soldier began to pace his heavy breathing to try and secure a hold over his emotions once again, but as Sam talked he knew he wanted to throttle this guy. More so than that, he needed to keep his cool.

A blast of white light from the bottom of the hill swathed the group and it appeared Freddie had come to join them. Tanner was a hostage, Freddie had a gun, and Connor was helpless. Many times the man had managed to worm his way out of dicey situations yet this was proving to be a check-mate.

The two exchanged some basic information about the situation, before dwelling on some of the questions they would like answered. This was his chance. Connor opened his mouth to threaten the presence of other Allies, but Sam’s revelation that he wasn’t sure if they could even take in two more and the insinuation they should be killed quelled his thought process. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Judging by that, it seemed that unless he had an actual, veritable army of Allies ready to pounce on these two then he should keep his mouth shut with threats.

“It’s,” His voice now was subdued, “just us.”

He hoped he hadn’t betrayed Tanner’s trust by failing to save him any more than he had by allowing him to be captured. Goddammit. God. Fucking. Damn. It. Connor knew then and there that he should’ve never gone looking for this person in the dark and that chances were they could’ve remained undetected if they had just kept moving or huddled down properly for the night.

It was time to plead. Freddie, so far, seemed to be the most reasonable of the two and Connor hoped he had scored some brownie points by not putting three holes through his chest when he had a chance, “H-hey, no need to be so hasty. I’m sure I’ve got some skills that could be useful to you. I used to be a soldier, a-and Tanner can pull his own weight. The kid is more grown than he looks. I-if he can’t do the things you need, I can work for us both.”

Connor never would’ve groveled like this if he wasn’t so worried about Tanner, “Please.”

His face settled from anger into a neutral stare and his eyes cast themselves downward in a show of submission. Connor, however, was not going to put himself fully at their mercy. In order to avoid being placed under the care of Sam, whom he was growing more and more weary of due to his actions toward Tanner, the ex-soldier kicked the handgun from in front of him and slid it toward Freddie. He hoped that this would show that he was surrendering to Freddie and not to their group as a whole where it may have been that they would be taken by Sam.
————

Tanner remained still and calm even as Sam clutched at his figured and held him in place. Connor would get him out of this— he always did. The young boy stared a hole through his father-figure and his gaze alone was adding several layers of tension to the situation; the tension weighed especially on Connor.

As another man joined the situation, Tanner remained steadfast in his hopes that Connor would find them a way out of this; Even if another couple showed up, he knew that the man across from him could handle it!

Yet, Connor surrendered. Connor NEVER surrendered to opposition. The young boy froze— his breathing caught in an audible hitch of disbelief. His confident stance gave way to a bit of a sullen slouch that pressed him further against Sam’s hand and he narrowed his eyes at Freddie and then slung his rancor back toward Sam.

The kid didn’t realize, but he wore a scowl that wrinkled his face and billowed the heat of frustration and wrath. It may have been his fault for leaving cover, but if these guys never existed then he would’ve never been found. They would regret making a fool of Connor. Sometime, some way, somewhere Tanner swore they would regret doing this to the man he admired most; he would make sure it was as though they never existed.

Sam had an opportunity to peer deeper within to the boy’s eyes to see a similar hollowness to his own that had begun to take hold. Yet, it was nowhere as fully formed as his nor was it seemingly ever-present.

When Connor finally began fighting for their place among the group, Tanner’s furious eyes softened to temporary defeat and the kid reassured his mentor as best as possible.

“I’ll do my best, Connor.”

Bullyboy Squad F foolish99 ​

 

[MokaChan]

𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙴 𝟷 The Convoy​

Knowing she couldn’t hear anything, Arthur did his best to repeat what Cabrera was telling them, glancing between her and the man further away as he spoke. A look of confusion formed when she started to yell and Arthur lifted a hand in a gesture to indicate she needed to calm down. “It’s alright, Miyu. I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you. It’s okay.” The alarm rose a little when she kept on yelling, most likely gaining people’s attention and Arthur tried to turn to her, but stopped because of the hand holding him. He couldn’t help the glare he shot at the fucker because obviously something was wrong and he wanted to make sure Miyu was alright. Pandora tried to see what was wrong and then shit went to hell in a handbasket. Miyu ran right towards the man giving the speech and a cold sweat formed, prickling the older man’s skin. No!

He yelled her name, reaching his arm out and he started to move forward, but that firm grip on his neck reminded Arthur that he couldn’t do anything. It pulled him back with a grunt. Then he saw the gun raise and his eyes widened and his heart jumped up into his throat. He yelled out something. Maybe Miyu’s name, but it all echoed as he tried moving from his spot again and the grip on his neck tightened and he turned halfway to shove the man off… only to be subdued again before he could so much as get another step taken. Everything happened too quickly. Blood. It went out of Miyu’s small frame. Arthur felt his cheeks burn, his teeth grit together as he struggled, and his heart thumped loudly in his ears. “Get off me, you sonuva bitch!” He was shoved more onto the concrete with a grunt in retaliation.

He couldn’t do anything as he stared at Miyu’s unmoving body in a shocked silence, breathing heavily.

He’d told her he would protect her. He’d told her he would take care of her. It was like a wave of cold washed over him. He didn’t do any of those things. Arthur told her he would keep her safe and he… He had failed her. It should have been him. It should have been Arthur. He was getting older. She was still young. His eyes squeezed shut. He’d lost so many people over the years, moreso during the fucking pendemic, and now the world had to take one of the most precious things in life away from him. No, not the world. Cold, grey-blue hues moved towards the one who had shot her. Him. He took her away from me and he took her away from everybody in Northview High. He took her from her sisters. Arthur knew one thing. He was going to kill that man before his dying breath. His eyes swept towards Cabrera and his gaze hardened for a moment and then he looked back to Miyu’s corpse. Pain swelled up in his chest looking at her again.

TAG USERS HERE ​

Safton Bullyboy Squad BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow The Cat Man

 

[Namazu]

SCENE TWO
The Helicopter​

The moment King's hand pressed the business end of her weapon down, Denise loosened her shoulders and arms and lowered the gun, away from Rocky.

"Right. Sorry." She muttered, sheepishly. Admittedly, she was probably too quick to offer to take him out, and quickly felt frustrated at herself for jumping to that solution so quickly. She'd clearly been spending too much time among her particular scavenging squad - all men, all 'tough guys'. She'd been on a mission to prove herself from the day she joined up with the Samaritans, but maybe she didn't need to take it that far right now.

A bullet would have been a waste, and loud - neither of which they needed right now. At least they could use Rocky until he keeled over. She backed up, getting into position near the door back down.

"Lets just keep our eye on him - the second he drops, we need to take care of him. Can't have him taking a bite out of the repair guy."

Bullyboy Squad Togy F foolish99 Aravis Kandosii The Cat Man ​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

SCENE THREE
The Fight

Collab with Aegis​

He stared. Did the Scavenger just imply what Freddie thought he did? The enforcer licked his teeth. Maybe one day he'd consider not following King's orders. Maybe even there have been times when he didn't. Irrelevant stuff, small things. But still, if he was to consider it, it wouldn't be breaking the rule about bringing people in. Especially if that meant killing them instead. Freddie never took a life unless it was an undead. He was lucky enough to never be in a situation that would force him to kill. And this wouldn't be one either.

Looking at Connor he listened, not interrupting the man. Just to give him the time to spill some useful information.

There it was, another soldier, huh. Hopefully valuable enough to work for the two of them, as the boy looked to be school age. For Samaritans anyone below 14 was a kid and had to focus on learning useful skills and gaining knowledge that would come in handy in those dire times. Anyone above was assigned a job.

The plea made Freddie exhale heavily. "I heard enough." Then the pistol nudged his boot and the enforcer glanced down. Then back at Connor. And to Sam.

Connor's heart skipped a beat when the enforcer finally broke the silence and announced he’d heard enough; Connor’s mouth was dry while he waited for the verdict.

"I already called it in, talked to the Chief." Freddie informed his fellow so that Sam wouldn't play sour later, that Freddie didn't want to listen to him. "If you kept your radio on you'd know." He also scolded the other since he could only assume that was the case after Sam didn't report the situation.

"I'm going to search you now, alright?" He said to Connor, picking up the gun. "Anything else on you I should know about?" He holstered his pistol and put the new weapon behind his belt at the back under jacket.

“Sure, no other weapons on me. Our bags are by the car.” Connor said.

"How about you, kid." The Samaritan approached Connor and didn't take his eyes off of the man while asking the boy. "Got any weapons?"

The last sentence Connor almost spat, but held his temper. Tanner answered similarly.

Freddie stopped behind the soldier and gave him a thorough and professional pat down. Once he stepped around to face him to do the same, Connor could get a good look at the hat the man was wearing. Marked with Lincoln Penitentiary logo.

Connor eyed the hat and remembered the logo from somewhere— the prison maybe? He couldn’t quite remember.

Freddie found no weapons. "Okay." He much less professionally checked man's pockets next. Then grabbed his wrist. "Nice watch. Any sentimental value?"

As his wrist was inspected Connor winced— the burns hidden beneath his bandaged arms cried out in agony before he answered, “My father’s watch.”

Freddie clicked his tongue and let go. After frisking the kid he was satisfied to find no weapons either.

"Alright, gentlemen. Sam will go with the kid on the front, you will walk with me. No funny business and just do what you're told, both of you. Got it?"

He didn't wait for an answer, expecting Sam to take point while radioing his group. "We found two people, we're going back. And start using the goddamn flashlights." He barked and put the walkie talkie back to his belt.

As he and Connor followed behind the other two Freddie glanced down at the soldier with some interest. "Let me see that watch."

Aegis F foolish99 NanLia Safton Namazu @Jabroni The Cat Man sanatanas ​

 

[Crono]

SCENE 1
The Convoy​

Kurt's eyes flicked from one figure to another, sizing up the people that had seemingly imposed themselves on Northview. Their leader gave his speech and Kurt crossed his arms over his chest whilst listening. These Samaritan's had Northview by the balls, with clearly no room to negotiate. Maybe Font would be inclined to let him go after this was said and done, who knew. What he did know was that he didn't want to be caught up in whatever came of this, he'd rather be on his way. He doubted Miyu would come with him, she'd grown comfortable and made friends since coming here. Kurt knew he'd have a hard time leaving her behind, especially with people under these Samaritan's thumb. There was also the nagging thought of the possibility these could be the people responsible for what happened at the Hospital, and that had him grinding his teeth momentarily.

A commotion pulled the man from his thoughts, head turning to see a familiar figure running towards the occupiers. Kurt's stomach twisted into a knot as someone yelled out that she had a bomb. "Like hell she does!" Kurt sputtered into a yell, feet already moving to try and intersect despite the fact he could never catch her. "She's just--!" He was cut off when his feet flew out from under him. Kurt fell forwards, barely catching himself, and in an instant there was weight on his back pinning him down. Kurt turned his head, face distraught and angry to see North was crouched down with a boot against his back. That was twice now that he'd gotten one over on him, and Kurt took notice. And then the sound of a gunshot.

Kurt thought he stopped breathing, the sounds of the crowd crying out were growing distant and all he could hear was the blood circulating in his own ears. He didn't need to see to know what had happened, Miyu was gone. Kurt's eyes focused in on North's face the other man's lips were moving and speaking to him but Kurt couldn't hear the words. His throat hurt like he'd yelled, but he didn't hear that either. Kurt threw an elbow at North's face and it connected painfully with the man's temple, and he was free with North stumbling back. In a flash Kurt was up and on him, this time with Kurt on top. North was disoriented but still trying to handle the situation, though Kurt's flurry of blow's on his face had the man on the defensive. This wasn't the work of someone with any intent, Kurt didn't blame North for what occurred. No, he was just a convenient target in Kurt's blind rage.

Kurt's hands had both North's blood and his own on them, knuckles splitting as the punches flew. And North? North was practically laughing, or some semblance to it, between the blows and coughing on his own blood. Everyone has their breaking point, and Kurt nearly hit his after losing the Hospital and it's people. He'd been recovering from it day by day, but that just bullet took the life of the last person who kept him from sinking past his breaking point.

The Cat Man Miaow MokaChan Bullyboy Squad Togy BeyondDandy SlaughterMelon NanLia Safton ​

 

[NanLia]

SCENE NUMBER ONE
The Convoy​

Dutchess watched impassively as the residents of the school slowly, timidly, exited the front of their building. She met their withering glares head on, this was expected of them: the disbelief turned to anger towards her and soon North for their betrayal. She understood why they felt the way they did but wasn't sure she would feel the same way. If the Samaritans were suddenly overthrown by another faction she would put every ounce of her being into her survival. It was a difference of upbringing, she suspected. Dutchess had been surviving her entire life, and these people only started a few months before. Take this as a life lesson.

The sight of Kurt stepping out of the high school followed by North made her heart race and she purposely moved to the opposite side of Cabrera with the hope that the large man would act as a barrier between them. The likelihood that Kurt would recognize her was slim to none, he'd been out of the game before she'd joined the club and for six months before the end of the world, she'd been in prison. There was a small chance he'd had contact with the club in the time she'd been put away, she hadn't had contact with her old man but the odds that he would have spoken with them and been told about her existence were slim, but they weren't zero. It wasn't a risk she was willing to take.

She jumped hearing shots being fired within the building, cursing under her breath. She doubted the residents were putting up so much of a fight that it would warrant shooting any of them and the two she would chalk up to giving them trouble, Buster and Kurt, were both already standing among the crowds. She quickly scanned the faces, trying to determine who was missing, and only came to the old man and the deaf girl. Are you fucking kidding me? Clearly, Cabrera had brought along trigger-happy assholes and while she would never give Cabrera shit for it, she certainly would plan better in the future.

Dutchess felt little relief hearing that they would soon be out of the school because as they exited they had the old man, Arther, held by the neck like he were some kind of wild beast, Miyu clinging to him. It'll be over soon. She sighed internally as Cabrera started his 'welcome' speech, she assumed it would be very much reminiscent of the one given at the Ranch but quickly frowned hearing shouting, of a kind, from the crowds.

She searched for the voice, one she didn't recognize but could tell was female. Whatever was being said was incoherent and Dutchess frowned, searching the milling residents, of anyone that was going to give them problems she hadn't expected to come from among the women. The women here were timid and easily cowed… Miyu burst from the line of residents and sprinted across the gap.

Dutchess didn’t have time to react when she heard one of the meatheads holding Arthur tight shout the girl had a bomb, she spun to call off Cabrera’s guards but it was too late. Her ears rang but she didn’t need to hear to know that the shot had been fatal, feeling the girl's corpse tumbling to the asphalt. The silence that followed was deafening, the people of the high school remained quiet - a surprise since she expected outrage, but perhaps that was it was what she felt.

Dutchess felt the rage burn within her. She turned first to the shooter, glaring. “Are you fucking dumb? Do you think this podunk group of middle-class teachers has a bomb? That maybe I hadn’t done my fucking job and eliminated the threats this place would have before you fucking got here? Are you too fucking thick to think that Cabrera would have mentioned the chance of a fucking bomb before rolling up to the gates and threatening them?"

She turned back to the crowd, focusing on the meathead that had thrown out the falsehood in the first place. “And you - you’re standing there saying that you knew, this whole time, that she potentially had a bomb and still brought her out front with all of us? No effort to disarm her, or warn anyone else?” She watched him open and close his mouth as a fish caught on a hook. “That's what I fucking thought." This had been going so well, so smoothly. This place had four times the number of people the Ranch had and she'd worked hard to make this transition as smooth as possible and now some moron had fucked it up.

This has the potential to look bad on her, and Cabrera. People were assets, such as freshwater, canned food, and ammunition. And the death of Miyu meant that they would have one less body contributing to labor for their people. "You're taking her place." The man blinked in surprise, but Dutchess continued. "Whatever she would have contributed, whatever labor she would have done is now on you and I'll make sure King knows about this."

Miaow MokaChan Crono Togy Safton BeyondDandy Bullyboy Squad SlaughterMelon

 

[NanLia]

SCENE NUMBER ONE
The Convoy​

Nari held on to Minnie's hand, their fingers interlaced, like both their lives depended on it. She watched, with her heart in her throat, as more of the residents came out of the high school slowly, and just as terrified as she was. This was starting to feel less and less like a meet and greet and far more like a prisoner exchange, or worse, an execution. The fact that they were taking Kurt out of 'lock up' alone made her desperately want to be near Xander.

This meeting could have taken place inside the school, they had a gymnasium and cafeteria where everyone could fit in, which made her instinctively believe they had intended to remove people from the school and take them away. She looked over the vehicles these people had come in, trying to tell if there were more than what they needed to bring here but from her vantage point she couldn't see if there were more than what they needed to bring the number they had.

She jumped, giving a soft yelp hearing shots being fired inside the school and she backed into the crowd attempting to drag the girls back with her, Minnie by her hand, and Haewon by her sleeve. She wished Xander could come and stand with them, make her feel the slightest bit safer and she cursed herself for even thinking it. She wasn't brave or courageous, she wasn't strong or tough-willed. She was scared of the dead, terrified of the living. Clearly, the leader of this band had more planned for him and while she was part of the council that made decisions when it came to the school, she was not upset at being excluded. There wasn’t a chance she would be of any help, the mere thought of even making eye contact with him made her stomach roil in protest.

Nari grunted as she was shoved aside, Miyu shouting and pushing through them to the opening between the factions. She couldn’t understand what she was yelling, likely no one else did too but then a voice boomed behind her about Miyu having a bomb?! The process of creating that alone was beyond comprehension, certainly, she must have taken it from one of the invaders! The next gunshot left her numb, her mind was blank as she watched blood spray from Miyu’s head, splattering the paving stones between them, and then her body crumpled to the ground. Her ears run as she stared at the body on the ground in confusion.

Fuck, I’m gonna be sick

Haewon’s voice broke the silent buzz she was hearing prior and Nari blinked back to reality, she gave Minnie’s hand a sharp tug, dragging the girl back towards her, and used her free hand to cover her face, turning her away from the body. “Haewon.” Nari hissed with as much authority as she could muster, reaching to grab her elbow and pull her back into the crowd and away from the sight of Miyu.

Miaow MokaChan Crono Togy Safton BeyondDandy Bullyboy Squad SlaughterMelon

 

[Togy]

Scene 1
The Convoy​

Mackenzie stood to the side, arms crossed as the Northview crowd formed around him. This, well and truly, was a complete shit show. They hadn't even put up a fight and the high school was already kneeling like a kicked dog. Maybe it was for the best this way. No one had gotten shot yet, as far as he knew anyway, so Mack wouldn't have to make any tough calls during a triage tonight. Or maybe this was the worst possible outcome, told to heel by new slave-runners looking to put them down one by one without him being able to do a damn thing about it.

He'd barely paid attention to Cabrera, only able to remember maybe one or two words the man had seconds ago, when his attention was drawn to his own group. Miyu, he distantly remembered her name, the deaf kid from the hospital. She was shouting, and for the life of him he couldn't tell what or who for. As he was trying to piece together what she was attempting to communicate, they launched themselves away from the group and towards Cabrera. It happened in little more than seconds, and before he could even think to yell for the kid to stop, a gunshot rang out.

Miyu's body crumpled like a house of cards, collapsing to the asphalt instantly. No dramatics, no flair, it was as if her body just shut off mid-step. Blood was already pooling from their forehead, face down and unmoving on the ground.

Mackenzie was shoving his way through the crowd around him instantly, shouting "Move!" as he roughly shoved members of his own group aside to make way. He broke through the crowd in a run toward Miyu's body, not even bothering to see if anyone had aimed their weapon at him like they did for Miyu. Crashing to his knees next to Miyu's body, the first thing he took notice of was the hole in the back of her head. Clean through. Jesus Christ.

She was face down in a puddle of her own blood, and When Mack moved to roll her over he saw her forehead almost entirely coated in red. Holding her head off the ground with one hand, he received a grim close-up. There was a hole in her forehead seeping a gratuitous amount of blood, almost centered between the eyes. The blood had seeped down her forehead, staining her nose with thick lines of deep red and pooling in her open mouth.

Her eyes were still open, staring at him almost hauntingly. Her pupils hadn't even hazed over yet, still appearing exactly as they had in life. If it wasn't for the bullet hole in her head, it would almost look like she was asleep. Her chest didn't rise, and he couldn't feel any breath leave her open mouth. Gently, he closed her jaw for her.

Duchess was ranting above him. Wanted someone to blame for this. Everything after that felt like a distant buzzing he could barely hear. Mackenzie momentarily glanced at Font. He didn't blame the man, he couldn't, for giving up without a fight and letting Cabrera into the school. The man's family had been in danger. But letting people like Duchess in? To spy and stab them in the back? He knew it wasn't the man's fault, he couldn't have known, no one could have. But it was hard to stay reasonable with a dead kid in his arms.

He glanced back to Miyu's static face, wondering what the hell the kid had been thinking. Were they trying to get themself killed? Why'd she have to go ahead and pull a stunt boneheaded enough to get herself killed? He knew there had been people here who had cared about her, and now they'd just have to pick up the pieces.

But she was a kid. She couldn't have been any older than twenty, they just did stupid shit sometimes. She didn't deserve to get gunned down like that. God knows she didn't. Mack had seen people die before. A lot of people. Some he could have helped, and some he couldn't. He'd gotten used to it after a while, he'd had to, but he didn't think he'd ever get used to dead kids.

Placing her hands over her chest, Mack delicately closed her eyes with two of his fingers just as Duchess finished. The only thing he could think of was how she looked almost peaceful now.

Crono Bullyboy Squad Miaow NanLia BeyondDandy Safton MokaChan SlaughterMelon ​

 

[Aegis]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

Well, fuck.

Connor followed along as ordered even as his face hardened into perfect neutrality. It was a trick he learned back in the guard, well— boot camp; all the guard had managed to accomplish was allow him access to powdered donuts and an avenue to fall out of shape. These days, though, it was hard to fall out of shape being on the move.

The ex-soldier unclasped the watch from his wrist and placed it into Freddie’s hand without so much of a twinge of the inner annoyance he felt showing on his face. Quietly, Connor began to follow along beside Freddie as Sam lead them back to their camp. He cast a few short glances at the back of Tanner. God. He felt guilty even looking at the kid.

Yet, even as the prison came into view, confirming Connor’s earlier thoughts, he began to hear the shuffle of the dead. It was unmistakable among the sounds of nature and when you had been out in the shit as long as he had it was a sound that perked your ears naturally.

Sam began to slow; caution, that’s what Connor chalked it up to, but even their quieter pace managed to alert the monsters waiting just outside their view. In the sudden explosion of action, the ex-soldiers adrenaline raced as one of the infected slammed into him from the front and the two of them broke into a desperate grapple.

Jaws snapped. Spittle assaulted Connor’s face. Teeth clattered in a sound that made the man’s back shudder in discomfort. With a roar, Connor slung the dead woman past him and toward the ground, and judging by the thud her body made when it hit the ground she had landed on a patch of rocks. The man knelt down, gripped her by the patches of hair on the back of her head, and began to slam.

Connor needed something to vent his anger on and she had been the perfect opportunity to blow off some steam. The man took no pleasure in it even as the thought crossed his mind, but he needed to otherwise he may risk something stupid and get shot.

It took a few rabid shakes of primal force, even as Connor pressed his knee in her back, for the head of the woman to sink low enough to impact off of the rocks beneath her. First, it was chunks of teeth and thick globules of semi-congealed blood that spouted forward from the darkness. Then, flesh. Bone. Finally, the sickening crack of the skull splitting beneath the force of his arm. Ragged breaths drug air into Connor’s screaming heart. He wasn’t tired— he was a vehicle for violence incarnate and oxygen was simply the fuel for the engine.

His attention snapped to Tanner as one of the infected bore down on him. It would be too late for him to help, “TANNER NO!”

————

Tanner walked. His mind was so blank and the vast expanse of hopelessness that gripped him was something that didn’t sit well with him. Sam walked next to him, but that was no issue with him. The strange man’s simple presence was enough to keep some strange anger alit in his belly and that was something.

The boy walked some more. He walked. Yet, his senses still did not return. They didn’t return as the shuffles sounded nearby. They didn’t return when the first of the dead came scrambling into view. They came back only when a sprinter came barreling from the night.

The man was in the garb of a priest. Of course, it had been somewhat modified to make it amenable to everyday survival, but it was a priest. Warm, red blood dripped from between his lips, the strip of flesh missing from his cheek belched out the same, and the rapid stomp of the dead priest’s feet echoes through the night. Then, came the snarl. The pale, veiny hands.

Tanner screamed. It was the kind of scream that sounded only when someone knew that their life was about to end. He wanted to get away. He had no weapons, no hope, and no idea what to do. The kid turned to see Connor grappling with a problem of his own. Wait, Connor—

He knew what to do: Just listen to Connor. The kid fell to both his knees just as the sprinting priest was about to clutch at his hoodie, and the infected man was unable to slow in time to adjust for the sudden change of height. The undead slammed into the boy at his knees and doubled over his frame smashing face-first at Sam’s feet. The sheer force of the impact knocked the wind from the kid’s lungs and sent Tanner sprawling out across the ground.

“Connor help!”

He tried to stand, but the sudden vertical motion combined with the shock of the earlier impact sent him tumbling back down. The kid took off crawling along the ground toward his guardian.

F foolish99 Bullyboy Squad ​

 

[BeyondDandy]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy​

Alante stood to Font’s right as Northview was forced to rally at the courtyard. He could see the fear in each individual as they gathered like sheep to the slaughter - surrounded by armed heathens who held no belief of mercy. He couldn’t help but blame himself for being captured and becoming nothing more than a bargaining chip. Had he not been taken, maybe Font could have had the chance to fight back and give the community a shot - but not anymore, they were on the defensive.

While listening to Cabrera, Alante watched as some men dragged Arthur and others down into the fray - they must have been the victims of the gunshots from earlier. Poor bastard seemed injured, but Alante couldn’t get eyes on their doctor from where he stood. As Cabrera continued his speech, Northview whispers creeped between his sentences. What do they want? Who is Marcus King? Why did she betray us? How could this happen? Trying to figure out a way out, Alante came to a single conclusion - there wasn’t one. They would have to wait it out and see what happened before preparing a counterattack.

It was at this time that a whisper grew into a scream. Alante turned towards the noise, but couldn’t make out who it was coming from until a body sprinted away from the group and towards their adversary. “Wait, wait! She can’t-“ his attempt at explaining her condition was cut short by the single gunshot that shackled the entire community into submission. Alante stood there with his mouth open, staring at Miyu’s limp small frame. “No…” The word escaped him as his hand reached to wipe the stilled trance from his face. He wanted to cry but it wasn’t the place for that.

He heard the ruckus that followed. Witnessed Arthur and Kurt fight against the Samaritans to no result. Despite his personal feelings for Kurt, he couldn’t help but understand his distraught. “She couldn’t hear, man….” He said, not that they would listen. That’s when Dutchess went into her frenzy, attacking her own men for their insubordination like it would change anything. Alante scowled at her, taking a step forward as if to do something to find himself at odds with a rifle pointed in his direction. He stepped back in line, not wanting to be another victim of this takeover.

“If we get out of this, I know someone who can help us,” he whispered to Font, eyes glaring at Dutchess as his heart desired to cause her harm. She got Miyu killed and no one would change Alante’s mind about that fact. He just hoped no one else would have to fall before all of this was over.

Bullyboy Squad
Crono
Miaow
Safton
NanLia
MokaChan
SlaughterMelon

 

[Safton]

​

Scene One:
The Convoy
​

Xander's heart lifted and he breathed an audible sigh of relief as he saw several familiar faces finally exit the school, amongst them Nari, Haewon, and Minnie. They were the closest thing he had to a family these days. Still, any levity of the moment was shattered by the barrel of the gun Dutchess was pointing at him not to mention that the girls themselves were being escorted out at gunpoint... followed by Dutchess's crude remark about his and Nari's relationship. He pursed his lips, not rising to the bait.


As if to hammer home his previous thought, he heard the telltale sound of a muffled gunshot from inside the school -- a sobering reminder that not all of his people were outside just yet... and that none of them were safe. He whirled around to give Cabrera a brief, accusatory glare at the sound -- though in truth he had no idea of knowing whether it had actually come from one of their people taking a potshot at the invaders in defiance of his orders.

Before long, he spotted Arthur and Miyu being brought out with the rest. Cabrera, clearly done waiting, launched back into his narrative with promises of sorting out the so-called annexation posthaste. Font found himself wondering if this was done on the spot or if it was a rehearsed "sales pitch". And if it was... how many times had he done this very thing and at how many communities like their own? More to the point, Cabrera mentioned that they called themselves the Samaritans and had a leader named Marcus King. So Cabrera was a glorified errand boy. A well-armed and potentially unstable errand boy, at that. Font wasn't sure that knowledge was the least bit comforting.

Xander was just opening his mouth to reply when shouts rang out: confused, panicked shouts. The kind that never led to anything good. He turned, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see Miyu sprinting forward. His eyes widened and he raised a hand impotently out in her direction.

Too late.

The sound of the shot filled the courtyard and Miyu suddenly looked like one of those marionette puppets with its strings cut as she fell to the ground, red staining the ground. Xander stopped short, his throat tight as he looked down at the fragile body, waiting and hoping for any sign of movement that never came even as Mackenzie knelt at her side. The morbidly, coldly logical part of him wasn't surprised. He knew from personal experience that only one kind of shot produced that kind of result: the one that made a living, breathing, talking human in one moment look like they'd had their proverbial light switch turned off.

Xander's chest was tight and he felt bile in his throat, but he fought to maintain his composure even as felt Mackenzie's accusing eyes on him. He turned away from the glare, toward Alante... only to hear his pleading whisper. It was barely anything -- the slightest glimmer of hope in the darkness around them -- but Font returned with an imperceptible nod all the same. Dutchess had turned away from him, putting her gun away and electing to take her frustrations out on the Samaritans in the wake of the incident with Miyu. He began walking, more on instinct than anything. He was very aware of the sounds of a nearby scuffle and caught glimpses of two men landing blows on one another, but the gathering crowd of armed Samaritans blocked his view of whoever the combatants were.

He knew he should play the peacemaker: try and defuse tensions before more of his people died. Hear Cabrera out so that these invaders would leave as soon as possible. But Xander didn't do any of those things, at least not yet. Instead, he found himself approaching the side of Nari, Haewon, and Minnie where the former had ushered them away from the horrid sight only a few yards away. No bandits stopped him, distracted (for the moment, in any case) by the fight and the aftermath of the shooting.

Xander did his best to wrap his arms around the three of them, using his body to shield their view from everything behind him. "It's gonna be okay. Just stay calm and stay together, all right? No matter what. We'll get through this," he said, with more confidence in his voice than he felt as he looked at each of "his girls" in turn. With that, he gave Nari's shoulder a soft squeeze before turning to face Cabrera with what resolve he could muster.

Bullyboy Squad Togy The Cat Man NanLia Miaow MokaChan BeyondDandy SlaughterMelon ​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy​

"Bomb! She got a bomb!"

The gunshot.

Followed by the gasps, laments, and screams.

"She is deaf!"

“Get off me, you sonuva bitch!”

"She's just a young girl!"

Howls of pain and laughter rang at the back of the wailing crowd.

“Are you fucking dumb? Do you think this podunk group of middle-class teachers—" Dutchess in Price's face, right next to him.

"Move!" The medic was too late. Never had a chance.

"Are you too fucking thick to think that—"

"She said she had a fucking bomb! I heard her speak to—"

"Just a young girl! Oh God oh Lord what have they done! Oh please God save us—"

Cabrera yanked the rifle off of one of his soldiers' hands and aimed it up.

The shots like fireworks rumbled in the sky, echoing all around the flatlands surrounding one side of the small town. Silence followed, disturbed only by the quiet sobs from the traumatised people.

Ignacio stared with a cold fire in his eyes. Jaw set, the usually easy expression hard and unreadable. Making sure everybody got the message to shut up.

Finally he spoke, first looking at Font. "Get your house in order, Captain. Or I will."

Then at the medic with his eyebrows furrowed. "Take her away from here."

And finally at the crowd as a whole. Something akin to frustration creasing his forehead. "Can anyone explain to me what the hell just happened?" If she didn't have a bomb then… why was she running at him?

MokaChan Togy Safton @Processed Stardust BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow The Cat Man SlaughterMelon ​

 

[Namazu]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

Thirteen.

Andrew was the thirteenth person that Weston had killed in his life - and not all of those were from after the fall, either. What a lucky number. Even if he didn’t pull the trigger himself, Weston knew he was at least partially responsible. There were many nights he couldn’t sleep, so he sat up and reflected on his wrongdoings. Killing was a topic that kept coming back to him. There were a few deaths that left him remorseful or angry at himself, and some that he felt justified in. But most? For most of those murders, he felt nothing. And that was perhaps what scared him the most.

“You… poisoned…him.”

Weston knitted his brows in confusion as he stared down at Andrew, watching the light of life fade from the older man’s eyes. The words didn’t make any sense - he’d never given anyone poison before. Did the man still have it in him to speak metaphorically? If so - what the hell did that mean? Or was this just the confused ramblings of a dying man seeing and thinking things beyond his own understanding in those last moments?

When the light was out and Andrew was gone, he shoved the picture back into his pocket without looking at it. Grip on his knife firm - he was never one for sweaty palms when things got tense - he plunged the blade into the side of Andrew’s head. It was the rule here: make damn sure the dead stay that way. It had surprised him the first few times he did this just how sturdy the human skull could be, especially if you hesitated. It was not as easy as it looked to do this with the just-deceased person staring back at you. He had his own rule, though, after the first few times he'd done this: keep their eyes open while you do this. Make it real. Make it hard to forget. Make it harder to be one of those deaths he felt nothing about.

Pulling the knife out of Andrew’s skull, Weston pushed himself to his feet and quietly turned in a half-circle, facing the crowd. He didn’t look back at Wes and Kenny, trusting that Wes would handle the kid.

“Alright everyone!” He raised his voice, making sure the whole room could hear him. The room was eerily silent as the crowd processed their individual shock and emotions.

“Justice is served, and you saw it with your own eyes. Let this be a lesson to everyone.” He gestured down to Andrew’s body with his knife.

“This is a community with rules. With laws. All of us work together to follow those rules so we can stay alive, stay safe, stay fed, and not wind up like those rotten ghouls outside. If you have a problem with those rules, you talk to me - understood?” Weston slowly turned as he studied the crowd, looking as many people in the eye as he could.

“Alright, that’s it. Show’s over. Everyone get on, back to what you were doing.” He turned his back on the crowd, motioning for two of the nearby enforcers to come over.

“Put him in an unmarked grave - someplace not obvious, but not out of sight either. Make sure the guards know to keep an eye on it, and report to me the names of anyone who visits it or leaves anything on it. I don’t care if it's just a fistful of Goddamned dandelions left by a kid - the trouble ends with him. Got it?”

The enforcers nodded, grunting as they hefted up the dead weight of Andrew’s body and carried him out the same door Wes and Kenny had gone.

Weston lingered until he was the only person left in the pit - just him and the pool of blood on the floor. He stared down at it, noting how sticky and wet it looked compared to the numerous other stained spots dotting the floor from past ‘events’. Some were smaller, some were just as large. Andrew wasn’t the first person to die in this pit - and he probably wouldn’t be the last.

Unless Weston did something about it, of course.

And at this rate?

He might have to.

Bullyboy Squad Safton NanLia The Cat Man sanatanas ​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

Freddie glanced at the watch, turning it over in his fingers. Then he pushed his hand to his pocket, hiding it there. "You can buy it back. If you don't in a few weeks I might sell it." That was one way to say lose it when gambling.

Freddie was always reluctant to admit but not one to pretend he wasn't wrong. Flashlights. Was a bad idea. Or maybe thanks to using them they actually could see the threat. Either case they were close to the main road now and as soon as they'd be there it would be easier to run and manoeuvre.

"Watch it!" He aimed at the head of the undead that Sam had by his feet but he hesitated. More figures swayed towards them, if he made the noise like that now…

"Shit-" No more time to think, another biter reached for Freddie's side and the man spun around just in time to strike the thing with the grip of the gun to the temple. He drew his knife and kicking the collapsed zombie to the skull he punctured another one of a decomposing woman that tried to grab him.

"Get off the trees! Now!" The road was just down ahead. All they had to do was run and at that point Freddie didn't look back. Focusing on the biters in his path, trying to clear the way for himself and others. He was thankful now for the armor under jacket. As much as the makeshift shoulder plates and elbow pads were uncomfortable to wear they were surely a good thing to have between your flesh and undead teeth.

As soon as he ran out to the dirt road he yanked up his walkie talkie to speak. Just in time to see the headlights flooding the path up ahead. "Walkers!"

He didn't have time to say more, losing grasp on the device to quickly dispatch another monster. Wheeling around to see more and more coming out of the forest Freddie could only hope some of them were the three humans he left behind.

Aegis F foolish99 NanLia Safton Namazu @Jabroni The Cat Man sanatanas ​

 

[Aegis]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

Tanner felt the grasp of a cold hand at his ankle just before a sickening pop rendered it limp and without strength. The boy was yanked to his feet and he shot forward with every ounce of momentum available to him as Sam pushed him onward. He cast a singular, backwards glance to Connor who waved him off.

“Uh,” The boy still felt uneasy but he was grateful that Sam had saved him, “t-thank you!”

The boy ran so fast he caught up with Freddie. Sam had fallen behind, but chances are he would catch up and so would Connor.

“Mister,” Tanner shouted toward Freddie, “where do we go?”

Even as his eyes started to adjust to the blinding lights of the exterior of the prison, he could barely see the actual layout of the building. Where did he have to go to be safe?

————

Connor watched as Sam crushed the priest’s neck inward. For that, he was grateful. Maybe this group wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Of course, he had been immediately robbed of a family heirloom but those kinds of qualms could be solved at a later time. The man dug his heel into the dirt and took off running in the direction he was ordered.

Piercing the dark veil of night, the prison stood as a bastion of the evil past of humanity. Hopefully— hopefully things were different in there now. The dead were closing in all around them. Fortunately, they seemed to be able to outrun most of them for now.

“Freddie! Get us the fuck in there, man!”

Connor sidestepped an undead lawyer who lunged at him but missed.

F foolish99 Bullyboy Squad ​

 

[Miaow]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy​

Haru stood behind the line of gunmen, waiting impatiently for Cabrera's stupid speech. Sure, The Samaritans were the whole reason he was alive, he didn't exactly have the survival skills one needed to travel solo, and all he had to do in return was a little engineering and coding. He was staring down at a screen, watching the view of an overhead drone giving him a line of sight to the roof. It didn't look like anyone was hiding up there... he began to circle the perimeter, checking for anyone who'd found another way out.

He froze as he heard yelling... a voice he recognised. He lifted his head from his screen, bobbing his head trying to get a good look between the gunman blocking his view. Was that... his name? His eyes met with Miyu.

Before he could react, a gunshot rang out, and Miyu collapsed to the floor in a heap, blood spreading from the wound in her forehead. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, his hands clutching to the screen controlling the drone. His stomach turned. He was too slow. He'd always been too slow. Maybe he could've done something to disarm Jack if he'd just been paying attention... He let the controller clatter to the floor as he shoved his way through the men surrounding her and her group, freezing as he saw the blood.

He flinched as Cabrera shot the air, standing so close to him it felt like his eardrums had burst. His ears rang as he sprinted forward, dropping to the ground and skinning his knees as he grabbed her hand. He'd never been able to hold her hand before. He'd never really tried... He'd seen plenty try, and plenty get smacked across the face for it. Her skin was still warm... He swallowed as he felt tears well up in his eyes. He was meant to be one of Cabrera's top engineers, what would the men think of him if he broke down now? He clasped her hand in both of his, holding it against his forehead. It felt like she was still there.

As Cabrera demanded someone explain, Haru lifted his head, his lip twitching with anger.
"She was my sister. She wasn't running to me, not you. And she didn't have a fucking bomb." He spat at Jack, "She was deaf, she couldn't hear your goddamn speech."
"I'm going with the medic." He told him, leaving no room for Cabrera's permission as rage clouded his judgement. His sister was slumped on the ground, a hole in her forehead, and Cabrera was ready to shove her aside. He swallowed as he looked down at her once more, removing the hearing aids hanging precariously from her ears. He'd be surprised if the batteries had survived this long.

Bullyboy Squad Togy ​

 

[Safton]

​

Scene Three:
The Fight​

"We could use a car, I'm by —"

The enforcer’s transmission was cut off in a torrent of garbled static and Wesley frowned, leaning in in a desperate attempt to make out the rest of the words to no avail. After a moment, he tried raising Freddie again. When that failed, he turned his glare on the seated radio operator expectantly. The man gave a shrug and a shake of his head. “The problem’s not on our end, LT.”

Emmett clenched his jaw before letting out a sigh and turning on his heel to march out of the room, reaching for his handheld. “All available security personnel, meet me at the armory. We’re heading out.”

*​

Twenty minutes later, the armed and armored men were piling into the large truck, festooned with rifles, ammunition, and tactical gear as they pulled onto the road outside the prison. The truck’s headlights cut through the inky-black night like a sword, but shadows loomed ominously along the road’s edge just outside the illumination of the beam. Some of those shadows even moved.

Wesley knew that – by rights – he should have checked in with someone before conducting this ill-advised escapade. Under normal circumstances that meant King or his direct subordinate in Weston. But the former wasn’t here and Weston was… indisposed in the wake of what had happened in the Pit. If the Second wanted to punish Wesley after the fact, so be it. The way he saw it, the guy owed him.

Emmett had a rough idea of the patrol route Freddie was supposed to have taken that night – as was his job as Chief of Security – but he began to be worried as they drove on without sign of the man, periodically attempting to raise him on the radio. Then he saw it: something in the distance, amidst the darkness.

“Cut the lights,” he hissed to the truck’s driver. The man looked at him quizzically, earning the ire of Wesley’s glare. “Do it.”

The driver complied, shutting off the headlights just long enough for Emmett to confirm what he saw: lights. Flashlights, if he had to guess by the haphazard way they bobbed and swept around in and out of sight. They looked almost like giant fireflies on the horizon. He nodded to turn the headlights back on. “Straight ahead.”

They crested a ridge, coming down over the road… and Emmett muttered a curse. Dozens of walkers filled the road in front of them, adjacent to the trees.

Near the trees. Moving too fast to be biters.

“Stop, here!” he barked and the driver pumped the brakes before putting the truck in park. Wesley reached past him to press down on the truck’s horn several times, sending several challenging bellows echoing across the field and drawing the attention of numerous shambling figures. He turned in his seat, calling to the enforcers in the back. “Pick your targets, but watch your fire! Stay clear of the treeline. Keep an eye on the flanks.”

The enforcers couldn’t be said to be a well-oiled machine – their levels of training and experience varied at the best of times and was a constant work-in-progress – but they filed out of the vehicle and formed an evenly-spaced line on either side of the truck, laying prone or kneeling down as they readied their weapons. “Drop ‘em!”

Bullyboy Squad Aegis F foolish99​

 

[Namazu]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

Weston felt a little better after having ditched Val after the fight concluded. He really, honestly, did not have it in him right this moment to continue the parade of having an interest in her or their 'date'. Not that he disliked her or anything, she was just fine as a person, but he just did not have the mental energy to fake being engaged in a conversation.

As he took an admittedly slow stroll towards the bar, his mind drifted back to people he actually could talk to in times of distress, or even just enjoy the silence together without the awkward need to fill it with small-talk. Those people were few and far between. They also had a habit of not sticking around long. Every face and voice that popped into his mind was quickly pushed away and he reminded himself not to dwell. Not in public anyway. Not about Dave, not about...

"Whoa, watch your shit!" Weston blurted out as a clearly-drunk patron stumbled out of the bar, nearly plowing straight into him. The man - Weston couldn't remember his name - mumbled some half-witted apology, gave Weston a look of brief terror, and then did his best to scramble the other direction.

The bar usually filled up decently well after a big event like the fight, and today was no exception. Some people had gone straight from pit to drink, burying one difficult memory with another, and then drowning it all in alcohol, and so on until they inevitably woke up the next morning with a hangover and naught but fuzzy memories. Just as intended. 'Bread and circuses', he was once told. He didn't understand then, but he did now.

Weston slid into his usual seat - a table near the bar where he could put his back to the wall and have a good view of the whole room. Years ago he would have been perfectly content to grab a stool at the bar, but these days? He liked having concrete at his back.

"Anything dark and strong!" He pipped up, motioning to the bartender - knowing full he'd be heard. Was he being a bit of an ass not approaching the bar to grab his own drink like everyone else? Yes. Did he care right now? Absolutely not. Just like how he didn't care what he drank right now, only that he got -something-.

The chatter in the room had quieted down noticeably when he entered, no doubt patrons were watching him, waiting to see how he'd react. Weston flashed a few smiles, winks, and nods to a few people, and the crowds visibly relaxed. All it took some assurance was that no, he was not angry, and he was not going to blow up in here. It wouldn't be right of him if he did.

As he waited there for his drink, quietly and patiently, he didn't really feel like people watching that much, nor did he want to invite anyone over for more of that damn small-talk. Something occurred to him then.

The picture. He never really did look at it before he shoved it in Andrew's face. It was a quick, last minute grab from evidence before he slipped back into his room to get ready for the fight. Not many people still had pictures of people from Before, so he figured it'd be worth something to the guy. Pulling it out of his pocket, flattening it out against the table, and flipping it right side up, Weston finally took a look at what or who it was a picture of.

He immediately wished he hadn't. A picture of Andrew, at some backyard barbeque party. Andrew and another man were in the foreground, smiling for the camera, while other party guests were in the back having a good time - captured mid-laugh or eating better food than they'll ever get nowdays. The man in the picture with Andrew was younger, maybe about Weston's age. The two were locked in a side-hug. A very close side hug. Weston had been in enough of those hugs to know it wasn't the kind you gave to someone who was just a friend - not with the expression on their faces. A lump formed in Weston's throat, which he tried to swallow down quickly.

Don't think about them. Don't think about this too, what you just did.

Trying to take his eyes off the subject of the picture, he focused on the people in the background. Some were turned away from the camera, or only partially in the shot. Only a few women, but mostly men - and there was no hiding it that they were all military in some shape or form. There was one person on the shot, off to Andrew's side, in the background, that caught Weston's eye. The person was goofing off next to a portable radio - probably trying to get people to dance. All smiles, all laughter.

Weston squinted, then held the picture closer to his face as if that would help. Something clicked in his brain, and he held his breath.

What the fuck? That's-

He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone sat down a glass of dark ale in front of him, glass connecting with wooden table with a thunk. The noise brought his brain spiraling back towards the present, and he quickly turned the picture away as he looked up. It was Tig, of all people. He hadn't even noticed the man was still working.

"Drink up, honey. You're going to need this for later." Tig commented teasingly, giving Weston a wink before leaving.

Tig was no idea how correct he was, now.

Bullyboy Squad Safton NanLia The Cat Man sanatanas ​

 

[The Cat Man]

》 ACT 1, SCENE 3
The Fight

In the corner of a long sought after cell despite its telltale of emprisonment, a damned prisoner hides away from the outside, his incomprenhensible whimpers muffled by sad excuses of blankets, one could never guess that the weeping man had just won a fight for his life. However, 'won' is a pretty strong word for what went down at the pit, more so... 'spared', he may have been completely out of it, but he had enough sense to figure out what the whole dynamic was. He got lucky, that's all there's to it, Kenny got a lunatic to fight against, even when his match got him down, he didn't kill him right then and there, prefering to go for a speech he was too mindless to listen to.

At this point, he honestly isn't sure what he'd prefer, dying right there or surviving to get beat up again somehow, Kenny doesn't get the relief of a close survival because the noose around his neck is still there, he's just gonna die another day now, there is no living. He lost EVERY bit of the small cred he managed to build up, that thing with the chief enforcer is basically burned by this point, his fake bravado is unmasked, and any opportunity for a job he had is now gone. He is live meat rotting, already dying so no one wants it, but he's still breathing, feeling every little bit of it as he withers away.

What now? What is there left to do?
Kenny can't just go back shooting up in the watchtowers, neither go out scavenging out and about, he isn't good for anything or trustworthy enough anymore... What did he even do? Even he doesn't understand it, he did nothing, and yet he was thrown to the wolves still. Everything feels like a haze once Kenneth got accused, he really was terrified, all he remembers is agony and pleading, only now does he actually feel grounded in reality.

Not even his memories can give him peace, not when Kenny believes that his family is still out there, and if this is his last line, then he can't leave them all behind like this, but if he does, then all he can do is to wish that they're dead too so he reunite with them, but what kind of son would he be if he wished that? He wouldn't be able to live with himself, but he also isn't sure he can die hoping they're still alive all because he'd be alone. Selfish enough to think of some respite in death with his family in the afterlife and the furthest thing away from a virtuous person, Kenny can only pray there's a chance for some sort of salvation.

After all, Kenny's going to die here.
That's reality for him, there's no way out of this alive. He just doesn't know the specifics, will he be in pain, will it be quick, will he become one of the undead, will someone take some sort of pity on him even then? It's a strange thing to consider how your death will go. But despite it all... What hurts him most is that exact pity, he doesn't need pity from anyone, at least that's what he tells himself... And yet, it is still granted to him.
All his life, he didn't want to be meek.
All his life, he made choices to show he wasn't just a kid.
All his life, he wanted to be proud of his bravery.
But here he is, the most cowardly fucker in Lincoln, crying alone in the corner because he lived just a little bit more, even after all the odds he was showed mercy, and the only thing he can really be glad for is that his father isn't seeing the embarassment his son really is.

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

SCENE ONE
The Convoy​

Cabrera watched the scene with his mouth open. His chest visibly moved faster as he listened to Haru's accusing tone. But it wasn't clear if the convoy leader felt guilty or angry. Finally he tore his gaze away from the body, speaking in a firm, hoarse voice. "Go with the medic."

His eyes scanned the crowds. "Maybe we have more in common than you think, folks! But don't forget this lesson… We didn't survive this long by being careless!" He growled and glanced at Price. Giving him a firm nod. He made the right call pulling the trigger. Even if the consequences were dire. Even if they all had to live with them now.

"And we didn't survive this long by giving second chances." His voice went darker and he looked at the man that alerted them about the non existent bomb. "Get him off my sight. He's going back home, cleaning the shitters."

Glancing to Arthur he added. "Lock this one up with the prisoner."

Eyeing his cage champion he shook his head. "Go to medic, North. Do something with that ugly mug." But there was a hint of regret in his tone. Dutchess and Anthony spent months preparing for this day and it didn't go as planned. But when did it, huh.

"All of you! Go with my men, show them what you were doing before we arrived. Chances are you'll be allowed to continue just that while I have a little chat with your leader."

After that final announcement Cabrera motioned his head to Font. "Lead the way, Captain."

MokaChan Togy Safton @Processed Stardust BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow The Cat Man SlaughterMelon ​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

SCENE THREE
The Fight​

The kid. The goddamn kid. Somehow in that moment his question squeezed Freddie's heart.

In the midst of chaos of gunshots and decomposing bodies dropping to the ground, just for a second, he could see his boy. His son. Pale face and pale eyes, gazing up at him from the hospital bed. What will happen now, Daddy?

Freddie grit his teeth and whipped his aim at another monster staggering into the road and in Tanner's direction. "Watch it!" He growled and squeezed the trigger, piercing the head between dead eyes.

He heard Connor's yelling and caught a glimpse of Sam evading the toxic jaws of the undead, but he didn't know what to say. Snapping muzzle at another biter he only hoped the trucks were close. "Just keep fighti-" His words cut when he realized the slide was back and his gun was empty. The biter lunged at him but he managed to sidestep. Squinting through the sweat in his eyes in the vague lighting, he shoved the slow creature to the side and stomped on its head. Busy when repeating the task he only then realized the car was there.

"Ah shit-" Spinning around he threw himself at Tanner. "Get down!!" Dropping the kid to the hard ground just moments before the Samaritans opened fire. Sure they had to be mindful of the enforcers there but Freddie always thought it's better safe than sorry.

He wasn't sure how long it took but finally it was nothing but the ringing in his ears and the man grunted when pulling up, releasing the kid. "About time." He rasped out and began dusting off, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the headlights. He didn't yet notice that his hat was gone, discarded nearby in the dirt.

Aegis F foolish99 NanLia Safton Namazu @Jabroni The Cat Man sanatanas ​

 

[Togy]

Scene 2 The Helicopter​

Rocky called up to him in response, voice wavering and lacking any sort of confidence as he said "Alright, just tell me what you need."

Jamie, fumbling slightly with his tools on the servo control, huffed in clear impatience. "I just told you-Keep up, man! I need you to clear the engines of any gunk that's built up and do the pre-flight checks like I taught you!" Call him high-strung, but he'd never had to repair a helicopter under threat of very-fucking-imminent death before. The dead were already pounding on the roof access doors, and it would only get worse as more stumbled up the stairs. The door was made of metal, and the landing at the top of the stairwell would have been too small for enough bodies to press together and burst the door open but the door was hanging on nearly rusted-out hinges and held in place by a half-broken lock. The first time they'd come to the hospital, one of the Samaritans escorting Jamie had to use a crowbar to force the door open because they couldn't find the keys. It was a miracle it could still close after that. With the entire city descending on the group, the door wouldn't hold more than fifteen minutes.

Rocky had climbed up the side of the helicopter to look into the engines by the time Jamie had pulled the servo control free. The servo control, at eye glance, looked to be in relatively decent condition. But the imperfections like how the slide valve tube had small build-ups of rust and rough grooves and how the hydraulic lines had thin coats of gunk inside them quickly became apparent. Those slight imperfections in the part were more than enough to equate to a, startlingly literal, fall from grace.

Shifting his tool bag, he pulled out the necessary tools and agents to clean the tube and hydraulic lines. The roof access door had stopped shaking, but that was only because there wasn't enough room for the dead on the other side to lift their arms and bang against it. The swell of bodies on the other side of the door had filled the stairwell landing, compressed shoulder to shoulder, and was pushing the entire weight of the horde against the door. A few Samaritan goons had tried pressing back against the door to ease the strain on it, but at that point it was like treating gangrene with a bandaid. The door was creaking as the hinges were pushed to their limits, and it wouldn't be long until the rusted screw holding them to the frame shot off.

Jamie tore his gaze away from the door and quickly resumed cleaning with renewed panic. "Rocky, how's the engine? Find anything wrong?" he hadn't even looked up to ask, furiously scrubbing the tube valve clean.

"It's fine, nothing's wrong-" Rocky was interrupted by the sound of the door's top hinge popping off the frame. Jamie quickly finished cleaning, gave the servo control once over, winced at the condition, and began inserting it back into position. As he did, the door's lock finally gave, bursting open and slamming against the wall from the sheer weight of the bodies pushing against it from the other side. The Samaritans had already begun firing, but it was like a tidal wave. Dozens were pushing out onto the roof, with even more stumbling up the stairs from behind. The only consolation was that the ones at the front of the door tripped forward from the sudden release of the door, and the ones behind them had to stumble and crawl over their writhing bodies to stand on the roof, slowing the initial flow significantly.

The repairs would have to do. They'd have to do. It wasn't like Jamie had much of a say in it at the moment. They had to take off, now. Placing the steel cover back on the tail and loading his tools back into his bag, Jamie grabbed the bag and threw himself off the tail. Nearly landing face first, he climbed back to his feet and rushed to the cockpit, a constant mantra of 'Oh shit oh shit oh fuck oh shit oh fuck oh no' running through his head. Jamie open the pilot's door and began starting up the engine via muscle memory, every action performed to the backdrop of gunshots and falling bodies as the dead made further headway onto the roof.

He'd barely had enough time to yell "Rocky, off the engines!" before he'd started warming the engine. Rocky threw himself off, stumbling towards Jamie as the blades above them began to spin, the humming of the engine and the whirling of the blades momentarily catching Jamie. He'd never thought he'd hear the sounds of takeoff again.

"Are we done?" Rocky asked, just as panicked as him.

Jamie turned to answer, words catching in his mouth as he caught sight of the bloody seeping from Rocky's arm for the first time. He'd been-He couldn't think about it. Not now, the dead were already halfway to the helipad. He didn't have time to think of anything other than starting the helicopter.

"Yeah, we're done. Just another minute or two until there's enough RPM to take-"

Rocky would never hear him finish, because with a crack remniscent of a cannon, he slumped lifelessly to the floor as his blood blew onto Jamie.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was all Lawrence could do to remain calm, but he had to. King had given clear orders. Rocky wasn’t making it out of this. But that was fine. Absolutely no harm and no foul. Lawrence was not cold, but he was calculated. He wasn’t a bitch, but he wasn’t a fool. If King said jump, the question wasn’t how high, but no question. Just jump. The man was brutal and it was always easier to follow along. Besides, he had not led them astray thus far.

Despite the rather gruelling situation, Lawrence did not blame King. He blamed everyone else. It was they who likely aggravated the dead. Why they hadn’t chosen stealth was beyond Lawrence’s cunning. Did they just wake up to the end of the world, or were they just trigger happy? Either way, they miscalculated. The dead were winning. They were always winning.

Lawrence looked on, observed, and carefully watched every fucking move Jamie and Rocky made. Lawrence felt like a parent again carefully watching his girl do her homework getting more and more frustrated with each step of the math problem. Only, in this instance, the consequence for failure wasn’t a red x, but a feeding to the buffet for the dead. Yet Lawrence watched on with resolute calmness waiting for the resident expert Jamie to provide any clear signal that things were good to go.

Lawrence knew fuck all about choppers, other than they went up and down. But Jamie knew and Lawrence was satisfied he had enough to go on. And so, thumbing the very concealed .44 mag inside his pants, Lawrence waited patiently almost looking like someone rubbing his bulge at a very inappropriate moment. A smile crossed his face. He didn’t want to do this. But he would. He was merely following orders. So it goes.

We are done was all Jamie had to say. And he said it. It sounded like music to Lawrence’s ears. A single word protruded from his lips that made him sound like God himself praising the hard work of his creation. “Good!” Lawrence sighed out in almost a whisper. He pulled the mag from his pants and leveled it with Rocky’s temple. And then, he pulled the trigger without hesitation. The hun recoiled but Lawrence held firm. The bullet blasted through Rocky’s skull sending shrapnel of bone, brains, and blood cascading across the air like a piñata showering candy on happy party goer’s heads.

Blood fell all around and Lawrence closed his eyes before any could hit him. His gun was soaked in blood and brains like a cake batter. He cleared his throat and clicked his jaw from the sudden screeching of noise from the gun. It echoed in the smaller space and he sighed. It was done. Rocky was dead and they were ready to go. Lawrence turned to Jamie and stared blankly. “I got five rounds left in here. Get this thing in the air, boy.” And with that, Lawrence pushed his gun back into his pants

F foolish99 The Cat Man Namazu BeyondDandy Bullyboy Squad ​

 

[Safton]

​

Scene One:
The Convoy
​

"Get your house in order, Captain. Or I will."

The words rang in Xander's ears as he glared back at Cabrera, knowing full well that the man would follow through on that threat. The knowledge kept him silent as the leader turned away to dispense with his men, giving a number of orders before finally returning his attention to Font.

"Lead the way, Captain."

Xander's jaw clenched, but he nodded slowly. He spared one final glance at Nari, Minnie, and Haewon before turning slowly away to stride back toward the school under the watchful eye of the Samaritans. Once inside, he elected to lead Cabrera toward his old classroom, walking inside. He began to make his way toward his desk out of habit, but thought better of it. "No weapons stashed in here, don't worry," he said quietly, though to placate the man he chose to take a seat atop one of the student desks in the center of the room before giving Cabrera an expectant look. "What happens now?" he asked.

Bullyboy Squad Togy The Cat Man NanLia Miaow MokaChan BeyondDandy SlaughterMelon ​