}{Mass Hysteria}{ [CLOSED]

Logan watches the man leave, holstering his M9, he looks at a map, the city Ithaca coming by as familiar. "I heard there was a military base somewhere there... I oughta go check it out." He thinks about the man, deciding to tail him. "Hey, wait." He says just loud enough for the man to hear, but even then it was quiet. He had his hand on one of his M9s in case he turned to attack. Saving this man was the least he could do, for his brother. "There is a military base out in Ithaca, just a four hour drive from here, if you want you can come with." @KingHalliwell (btw my pic is how i look just minus the NVG)
 
Jamison whipped around the pistol pulled free of its temporary place in his waistband. He aimed the silenced gun at the man who chased after him. "Military Base? You've got me intrigued," Jamison replied as the words registered. "Come with me I have a better place we can talk," he continued.


Jamison started to walk his footsteps silent on the empty pavement. Macy's was a safe haven for Jamison he wasn't sure if he was ready to leave what it had to offer him.


"I'm Jamison," he introduced to the man. His voice still hushed to keep from drawing attention to them. @LoneSniper87
 
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"Captain Logan Walker, nice to meet you Jamison." He says smiling under the mask. "Glad you arent killing me." He keeps him hand on the M9, his other in his pocket, gripping his father and brothers dog tags. "Where are we headed?" He asks, taking a look around. His thoughts wander back to that night Manhattan fell, his brother sacrificing himself so he can run. @KingHalliwell(sorry for short responses not much to say)
 
Jamison looked at the man. "Macy's, when New York fell and people evacuated no one came back to loot it. Now it's packed full of clothes and waters and food and it been my home for the last two weeks." Jamison answered slipping his gun into his waistband again.


Jamison looked at his watch. It was barely 7. As they walked they stayed silent. Macy's was only a few blocks away so they stayed walking. Both of them walking made very little noise but if they both started to jog all of their equipment would have made noises.


@LoneSniper87
 
FIRST LT. ROMAN WOLFE


Location:Ithaca College Campus, 4 Hr drive to NYC. Mentions:

@McMajestic
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As the woman relished the chilled water, Roman finally relaxed into the floor, feeling accomplished and relieved. She'd passed one of her hardest trials. She'd live. He pulled his legs into a criss-crossed position and rested his forearms on his calves, tapping the carpeted ground of the breezeway with his fingertips, content in watching the water slowly drain from the clear container. Roman imagined bullet points in his mind, listing everything he'd have to accomplish in order for her to survive.


This girl was worn out. Her muscle mass had shrunk in whatever time she'd been wandering around, the complete opposite of what switchers did. Roman would need to keep a close eye on her and nourish her back to her original state, whatever it had been. This girl had fair skin which bruised and brunt easily under the sun, giving her the symptoms of severe dehydration. He'd have to scavenge the dorms for sunscreen, and if he couldn't find any, he'd raid the modest pharmacy in the small town of Ithaca. This girl had a past that not even he could fathom, and he needed to know it. If she was staying with the group now, he'd need to know her like the back of his hand.


Roman's fingers and thoughts halted all movement when he felt her palm on his chest, her fingers resting lightly just below his collarbone. Yet another unpredictable interaction from the mysterious girl. He looked down at the way his chest rose and fell, bringing her hand with it, and didn't know what to make out of it.


Her next words confused him, the presence of her hand distracting his ability to comprehend. With just a few words, which were spoken with eloquence, she had him questioning his morality.


With just a quick scan of his body she had him swallowing a lump in his throat.


With the withdraw of her hand, he felt an intrigue towards her like none other.


Roman didn't know what he was. He only knew that he didn't want to be someone she couldn't trust.


Her last question snapped him back to reality, and he scanned her her body as it laid on the bed. "You can rest after you eat a little." Roman ripped open one of the packs of peanuts and set it beside her. "They're a good source of protein, and they won't upset your stomach."


 
"So whats your story, Jamison?" He asks, still scanning around, his thoughts on his past few months. "Mine ill save for after your's." He takes his hand out of his pocket, checking his watch. "Lets stay at your place for the night and head out in the morning." He said, not really fully attentative to his surroundings but enough to notice a switcher. @KingHalliwell
 
Jamison looked at the man as Macy's cam into view. "Well my story is kind of darker then some. when my home town fell, I watched two switchers destroy my family. I grew up in a small town in New Hampshire called Plymouth. My best friend saved my family from turning into switchers by shooting them. I went on the run from that point on, and i walked here, where I expected to find some safe zone. I never really expected it to be this barren." Jamison said opening the door to Macy's that he has been using as of late. "I ah had to kill my best friend because he was bit by a switcher when he and I were staying in an abandoned house."


Jamison secured the door once both of them where in the store. He walked further into the building and picked up one of the flash light he kept stashed around the place in case of emergencies. He flicked it on and started to walk through the building. "Welcome to my humble abode" he said. @LoneSniper87
 
Harlow peered down at the small snack he had given her, and then found her eyes drifting back up to his. The wolf man's eyes were as dark as a room after the lights had initially shut off, when nobody could even seen their hand directly in front of her face. This left a note of mystery to him, to the wolf and to the man, and yet it revealed more than a lighter shade could. She could see the bright swirls of curiosity and intrigue in his eyes from the way he looked at her, he could see a determination glinting in his pupils which were perhaps only half a shade darker than his irises. He wanted to know about her, she could tell. But what did she feel safe explaining, what could she just not speak of?



River. She could never speak of him. All of her brothers had the spirits of serene animals- except River. The eldest, the angriest, the liveliest. She'd never utter a word pertaining to him. Perhaps John though. John, her favorite, the one who had taken her to safety, who held the familiar warmth of home. She could speak for days about him. Her hero. "Harlow," she said, the single word so quiet yet it echoed in the silence of expectancy as she reached for the bag of peanuts and poured them onto her hand. A naturally salt snack. She'd need more water.


She pressed one peanut on her tongue and left it there, mouth closed, laying on her back and staring up at the ceiling. "My name is Harlow," she explained, before beginning to chew and swallow. She grabbed two peanuts the next time, and ground them against her molars before swallowing the crumbs she had gnawed them into. "My birthday is September 17th. I'm eighteen," she continued on, listing small facts about her. Trivial things she wanted to remember but was afraid she'd forget. She poured a handful of peanuts in her mouth and chewed. What else could she say. "I love sunsets but I didn't get to see them very often." She swallowed and looked towards the wolf man. "I can cook and clean. I can do anything you would need a girl to do." Her words were submissive, the way she had been trained. Just a submissive girl who always listened.



Location: Roman's Dorm



Status: Exhausted


Tags: @Soylent

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Logan gives the place a once over, admiring how he was able to secure such a big place. "Well my story is my father died in the line of service a few years ago, me and my brother Ryan supporting each other and taking after him, a few years in, we made it to the SEALs. When this struck, we were stationed at an encampment in Manhattan, but that was overran, my brother handing me his dog tags and running at the Switchers, i wasnt able to stop him from turning... He is out there, wandering as a corpse somewhere... Well ive been trying to distance myself from that accursed place..." He says as he turns on the saftey for his R5.


"But before my radio stopped getting the military feed i heard of a holdout in Ithaca. About a company or so there, one of the few military outposts left, anywhere in New York City or the bigger cities collapsed within months..." He follows Jamison watching for any signs of an ambush, but he acts relaxed, as if he were just admiring the place. "Where in this place are you?" He asks, showing not much interest. @KingHalliwell
 



  • Now that the two agreed to head south from where they're at, they now need to find some sort of transportation. There might be a lot of cars available, but not all of them have gas. Some of them are even missing parts. The worse problem is to find keys. Either that or they could just hotwire the car. That will however cause the alarm to go off.


    "Any ideas?" Tristan asked Riley while they just continue walking.


    "About cars? Nope. We'll probably need to look for some sort of parking lot."


    Tristan responded with a slightly annoyed groan. Suddenly he pointed at something. When Riley looked at where, he noticed a parking lot. Riley didn't think it was a bad idea at all. As long as they be careful with possible switchers in the area, they might be fine. By now Riley doesn't see switchers as a problem. It's only other humans. The ones that were killed by Riley and Tristan may not have been hostile at all, but there wasn't gonna be any risk taken.


    The two made their way towards the parking lot with Riley in front. As they got to one end of it, Riley suddenly duck down behind a car which made Tristan follow behind him. "What's going on?" Tristan asked.


    "Somebody's over there" Riley informed.


    Out of curiosity, Tristan peaked over the car and noticed a girl wandering around like a lost puppy. Tristan then set his hand on Riley's left shoulder. "I got this" he'd say before limping towards the girl.


    "Wait! Tristan what are you doing!?" There was no point by now. Riley just remained hidden.







@Lonelytaco
 
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FIRST LT. ROMAN WOLFE


Location:Ithaca College Campus, 4 Hr drive to NYC. Mentions:

@McMajestic
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Roman felt calm, serene even, each time their eyes met. Once his gaze locked onto hers, it was hard to turn away. Her eyes were intellectual and shielded, omniscient. At first he thought she had muttered a random thought, or an insignificant exclamation. When she clarified that it was her name, he nodded to himself. Harlow. It fit her peculiar aura, and it slipped off the tongue easily. It wasn't hard on the ears.


"Roman," he echoed, "My birthday is March 9th. I just turned 26 years old." Roman pushed the water bottle that he had drank out of towards her. "And we have quite the magnificent viewpoint for a sunset. I can take you there one evening, if you want," he offered nonchalantly. He was just satisfied that she was speaking to him, revealing small facts, and eating. "Once you're better, of course. It'll give you something to look forward to for now."


"You can watch the sun set over Cayuga lake, and the towns that are in the hills on either side. It stretches for miles," he waved his hand in a horizontal line, emphasizing how long the body of water was. It had truly been a smart choice to reside in Ithaca College. Roman didn't even have to clear out strollers on campus, because everyone was already gone for Christmas break.


The next statement that came out of her mouth startled the Lieutenant, and he looked down at her, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "There's no need for that," he said, brushing aside her odd comment, "Gender means nothing here. If you can lift a giant boulder, it doesn't matter your gender, you'll be lifting the boulder." What kind of environment had she been in that established such dated gender roles? If Isabel were present, she would have started ranting about equality.


Roman focused on keeping her talking, trying to keep her awake long enough to consume a substantial amount of peanuts.


"What other things can you do?"


The Viewpoint



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Harlow continued to munch on the peanuts, looking over into those inquisitive eyes as he asked her what else she could do. Gender roles didn't matter to them? Even with the thought of end of the world always on his mind, her father had still pressured these roles onto her. Yet this man didn't- but then again, he wasn't completely a man, was he? She put a few more peanuts in her mouth as she thought. "I'm not sure. I suppose I can shoot a gun, make weapons, stitch up wounds." She closed her eyes, trying to remember something interesting about her, but it was as if that part of her had never existed.



A stutter fell off her lips, but no solid words were spoken for a long moment as Harlow fluttered into the reality that there was truly nothing interesting about her. She could do basic things, things all women were supposed to know how to do according to her mother and father. She focused on those dark eyes. Despite her agony with human contact she found comfort in the unfamiliar eyes as they grew more and more familiar. "Tell me about you," she whispered, rolling on her side to listen to him speak. She finished off the bag of peanuts and crumpled the trash in her hand, squeezing it as she watched the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.


It was then she registered he was sitting on the floor, and guilt stabbed through her. "You shouldn't be on the floor. This is your bed. I shouldn't be in it." She began to sit up weakly, but her arms buckled from underneath her and she fell back onto the mattress, listening to the deep creaks and groans as it protested her weight. She needed to get off this bed. This was not her bed. This was a man's bed. Her breathing stopped and she began to panic once more, obviously choking on the very air she was supposed to breathe.


"Wrong," she coughed, unable to control herself as she scrambled for breath that she couldn't quite breathe. "Wrong, wrong, wrong. Stupid. Stupid girl," she whispered, gasping for breath. No. No, stupid rabbit. This was the wolf's den, she shouldn't be here. her body began to shake as the realization hit her hard, and a panic attack began to course through her veins.



Location: The Breezeway

Status: Starting to have a panic attack

Tags: @Soylent
 
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Jamison looked over at Logan. Their lives were so different yet they both shared the similarities of losing everyone they loved to this stupid virus. Jamison continued to gaze around the building. "I set my stuff up around the mock up bed, in the bedroom section. You're are welcome to set up anywhere." He added once Logan asked where he was set. Anderson started up the stairs to another section of the store. He had seen a set of doors that were closed and had wanted to check them out for the longest time. He had never heard anything in there.


"Wanna check out this section of the building with me?" Jamison asked over the banister of the stairs. Jamison was still in awe at the size of the store. He had never been in anywhere that was this big back in New Hampshire.


Jamison had explored almost every store in the building, well it was all one store, he had explored basically every inch, beside the one section, while he tried to scout the place and make sure there were no switchers in the store. He had been here for two week and Logan was the only sign of life that he had seen. So he was hoping that he hadn't made a mistake inviting him in to here. Leave it to him to screw up his life by trusting someone who he thought he could help again.


@LoneSniper87
 
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FIRST LT. ROMAN WOLFE


Location:Ithaca College Breezeway. Mentions:

@McMajestic
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Roman had just started to open his mouth when her second panic attack hit. Again, he didn't know what triggered it, and he felt frustrated that he couldn't eliminate the root of the problem.


"Harlow." Roman tried to think back to what Isabel had done the first time. She had positioned Harlow so she was on her side - No, that was when she was having a seizure, and her body had been convulsing. Either way, it was the only information he could draw from, and he rose to his knees, pulling her towards him and onto her side so her torso and legs rested against the mattress.


"Breathe, Harlow." He used a gentle finger to brush the loose strands from her face, tucking them behind her ear, exposing her long neck. He resumed his criss-crossed position and continued to stroke the gasping woman's hair, ensuring that the brown locks didn't get caught in her mouth or eyes. Panic attacks were not seizures. She wasn't convulsing, she couldn't breathe. She didn't need medical attention, she needed to be calmed down. Roman answered her earlier question, hoping that the sound of his voice would draw her back.


"I grew up in Manhattan," he started, brushing his thumb against the skin above her ear, "and my family was so doggone poor I had to work at an early age. My father employed me in his car shop. I can reconstruct an engine in four hours." He tried to think of more interesting details, but his mind was focused on the girl before him. So he just rambled.


"I was a First Lieutenant," he offered, "I like to put three different kinds of cheeses on my grilled cheese sandwiches. I had three Great Danes when I was younger: Ferdinand, Scout, and Red. I like to read books about history. My parents put me in piano lessons when I was twelve. I can play one song."


The Breezeway



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Harlow's breathing slowly began to regain itself as he stroked her hair, as he spoke to her. She squeezed her eyes shut, her arm reaching out until her hand clutched his shoulder and her nails were digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood as she fought, the bunny versus the human. The frightened creature that was destined to be a meal shook violently within her, threatening to tear her human flesh away and reveal an inviting small creature that was practically asking to be devoured with the way it only moved in circles. She struggled to keep the little animal at bay, taking a deep breath finally and getting herself to finally fall into a calm state of mind. She was human again, safe again.



Roman's words began to register in her mind, particularly lieutenant. "You're a soldier," she whispered. "My father was a soldier too. He used to tell us his war stories. He... he had trouble with guns. We never had guns in the house," she mumbled. The nails that had been sinking into his flesh, drawing blood, forcing him to be vulnerable in front of her, suddenly tugged weakly, wanting him closer. She needed the familiar warmth of the wolf's pelt, of its loving nature towards it's pups. She would be his little pup- a meal disguised as a friend.


"Do you have trouble with things?" she asked gently, unsure if she was overstepping her boundaries. "Can you tell me stories? Stories always calm me down," she advised. She wasn't quite sure what these panicked moments were- she'd never felt them before, but when she was little and had nightmares her parents would tell her stories of their past and she would fall into a restful sleep. In that moment, as her panicked bunny mind began to skitter away she entirely forgot what was in front of her- that he was a not-quite man. Instead she saw him as family, and considering the way he handled her perhaps he thought the same.



Location: Breezeway



Status: Weak, sunburnt


Tags: @Soylent

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FIRST LT. ROMAN WOLFE


Location:Ithaca College Breezeway. Mentions:

@McMajestic
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The woman's nails bit at the Lieutenant's bare shoulder, and he gritted his teeth, masking his pain as she relaxed. He twisted his neck and examined the broken skin as she spoke, utterly confused as to what was going through her head. Perhaps this was part of the panic attack. He allowed her to draw the blood from beneath his flesh, tightening his right hand into a fist and squeezing.


Then she was pulling him towards her, a weak gesture, and he rose from his sitting position. Roman looked down at the girl before climbing over her body, bracing his arms on either side of her shoulders, and collapsing onto the other side of her. His bare arms pressed against hers, their legs touched, and he turned his head to look at the girl beside him.


"Sure, I have trouble with things," he said, his eyes scanning the side of her face, "I get nightmares." Roman didn't go into the details of the horrific dreams. He didn't mention that they involved flesh and joints being torn apart at the hands of other men, IEDs at every corner, screaming, decapitated children. He didn't mention that they came almost every night, knocking at the door of his mind, refusing to let him sleep. The woman had asked him to calm her down, not to burden her with his morbid thoughts. He decided to tell her the tale of a lost love, something that kept him up in the most bittersweet of ways.


"When I was stationed in Afghanistan, I was injured." Roman turned his head and looked up at the ceiling, shutting his eyes as he recalled the events. "I was sent to an American medical center in a safe zone. There was this nurse. She had long copper hair that she wrapped around her head in braids, and this sweet smile, and this witty personality. She talked to me in this beautiful voice and told me about her home in California. She lived on Manhattan Beach, and she said the sunsets were just unbelievable. I promised that once I got out of this hell hole, I'd follow her to the ends of the Earth. I told her I'd show her around The City that Never Sleeps, and I'd take her to see a broadway show." Roman exhaled, "God, was she lovely. If I could find her now, I would."


Roman opened his eyes slowly, returning to the breezeway with a small ache in his heart. "Do you want to hear about the time I flipped over a bumper car at the state fair?"


The Breezeway



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Rena Frost - Location: Ithaca College Campus. 4 hours from NYC - Mentions:

@Soylent



no slide no slide no slide no slide no slide


Rena wipes her eyesa and thinks for a moment "For switchers it's about 30 or so kills for me and about 50 or so for my sister so 80 all together. We don't go out and search for them if that's what you mean. We just kill the ones that attack us and they don't then we let them go because it's futile to fight if you don't have to. Now for humans both me and my sister just disarm them not hurt them. We don't harm the living unless one of us is in danger which thankfully hasn't happen yet." She explained softly as she smiles softly and sadly as Rena grabs her sister hand softly.


"We have run across some humans who may or not have broken bones for messing with us. I and my sister is a good tag team. We watch each others backs. Like if we're on a run. Luna goes because she has the crossbow and can shoot from short distances and can use the katana if necessary and I watch her back using a silencer on my long range gun. I have a pretty good aim and Luna can use that sword like a sushi chef." She said grinning and shakes her head laughing when Luna smacked her right arm shaking her head at the choice of her words.


"What? it's true?" Rena turns back to Isabel and smirks as she thinks up a pick line to use on the hottie. She cannot denied it, the girl in front of her is a certflied hottie and she certainly does want to get closer the hazel eye beauty."Now I have a question for you. Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven because darling you are a angel. She heard her sister groan. She kept her smirk on her face because she was going to get Isabel, because it's one thing she learned while living in this world is that you can't look back on this and regret it because you're already on borrowed time.


no slide no slide

 
Harlow closed her eyes and gently headbutted her forehead against his chest as he spoke of a woman the way only a man could. It made fear seep into her bones but the comforting warmth radiating off him made her stay close. She listened intently to his words for as long as she could, the slight rumble in his chest from the vibrations of each syllable was something sweet, and the steady beat of his heart reminded her more of the wolf, loyal to itself and to its loved ones, curling around them, keeping them safe. She shrunk into a ball, becoming a small rabbit that was not quite afraid of the wolf, but rather only wary of its presence as it snuggled closer for warmth.



Her body was slowly beginning to steady out, to become quiet and still. Her mind still roared of the dangers of her predicament, and there was a chance that when she woke from the slumber she was sinking into she would be utterly terrified all over again, but at the moment she was stuck in an in-between state. Somewhere between fear and comfort. What an odd spectrum to dance across. Yet she moved so gracefully back and forth, never quite settling yet somehow sticking closer to the center.


"Roman," she whispered, resting her palms against his chest. It was innocent, it was simple, it was the movement of a child who just wanted something to hold onto. "Rome was such a prosperous city and yet it was hollow and full of entertaining deaths. Does death entertain you?" she asked gently, an honest question that was perhaps wrongly placed. "A soldier named Roman. It fits," she mumbled. "You destroy and you murder and that is just what the Romans did." She burrowed closer to him. "But you're too warm to be a cold man." Her eyes never opened and sleep nipped at her heels as she spoke, her words beginning to slur.


One of her hands moved up his neck, across his jawline, and rested against his cheek, her fingertips brushing over his eyelid. She wasn't sure where this inclination to touch him, to memorize every groove on his body came from, but it was perhaps a way to set him to memory. He would be her new Johnathon. She needed a man. She had been taught to be second to such a creature and yet Roman was not man. He couldn't be. Whatever he was, she wanted to be second to him. Second to the wolf man who had saved her life and nearly ended it at the same time.



Location: Breezeway



Status: Exhausted, sunburnt


Tags: @Soylent

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<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_08/image.png.1155553204ecb84e54035d7c15974e3d.png" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="147966" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_08/image.png.1155553204ecb84e54035d7c15974e3d.png" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> "Well Jamison, if you're up for it, i'll help you clear out that section." He says as he jogs up the stairs, looking for a place to stay. Logan spots a bedroom exhibit that mirrored his old room back at his dads place in L.A. He walked over to it, brows furrowed as he gets lost in thought. "Ryan..." He murmurs to himself.


Logan pulls off his mask with a skull on it and smiles sadly, remembering the good times he had with his brother. Ryan tossed the mask, it landing on one of the pillows, he walks back to Jamison, shouldering the R5. "I'll take point on the door, you'll follow up and take point since im guessing you'll know the area somewhat better." Logan clicks off the safety and pulls off the barricades, he eaisly one of the double doors off there rusted hinges, walking into the room, quickly sweeping the room, finding no Switchers. "First area clear." (That pic is what is on the mask that covers the face.) @KingHalliwell

 

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(Sorry went to a bonfire with some friend)


Jamison's smile faltered when he saw him take his mask off. He clearly was remembering something that was very painful. Maybe something about his dad or maybe his brother. But Jamison tuned when the man joined him in front of the door. There was a chain wrapped tightly around the door. But there was no lock to keep it there. Jamison prayed that there wasn't anything in there, but it was probably a shot in the dark.


Jamison is a very quite individual to begin with. His parents literally used to call him feather foot because he had a knack of sneaking up on people. It carried through out his life, even when he first entered the building. The seven shifters that had been in the store were easily taken down. And any shifter in the closed of section never would have heard him while he explored the store. He was always sure to be extra quite around them.


"Ready?" Jamison asked as he went over to the door and started to unravel the chain that held it shut.


@LoneSniper87
 
Logan gives a quick nod, his ice blue eyes seemingly holding fire behind them. He brings up his R5 aiming through the red dot. He tried remembering what his brother taught him almost 12 years ago. 'Logan, finger on the trigger only when your ready to fire. Keep the stock on your shoulder. Always know what your surroundings are like. Always.'


Ryan always knew what to say to make someone feel better or happy. He was just that kinda person. With him gone, Logan took on that side of his brother, just like he took on thier fathers calm side, he was a sort of skittish kid, but with his father gone he became stone, now his brother was gone, that stone became cast iron. "Open it up." He added quietly. "Im taking out every last undead bastard in New York until i feel i avenged you..." @KingHalliwell
 
Jamison pulled the chain free and opened the door. Instantly he was over powered by the scent of death and rotting corpse. He quickly whipped out a bandana and rapped a good portion of it around his face to try and block the stench. it didn't work to well but it worked enough for him to continue with out gagging. Slowly the two made their way into the hall way. What ever was in here hadn't been seen in a very long time. Jamison swiped his flashlight across the hall for any sign of movement. So far none, but the hall split at the end and went in two separate direction. Instead he sheathed his bow and pulled his gun out of his waistband. Easier to keep an eye on the area in front of him with out fumbling for a flash light and a bow.


"Lets do this" Jamison voice slightly muffled by the bandana covering his face. He walked further in to the hall the flash held steady as he walked. On the ground as a small trail of dried blood that continued the length of the hall before turning right around the corner. Jamison looked over at Logan and asked silently which direction would be best to take.


@LoneSniper87
 
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Logan nodded to the left, not at all fazed by the stench of god knows what. He'd smelt worse off in the Middle East. He took point as they walked down the left hall, as they walked he clicked on his flashlight clipped to his chest. The smell was slowly getting worse and worse as they walked. "This seems a bit quiet. Tell me if you see anything worth grabbing." Ryan watched ahead of the, for any Switchers, his mind flipping from the silence of the dead to the noise of the living, not used to talking for four months.


"Have you seen any others around? It might be good to maybe find some other survivors before we head off for that military base, if its even still there..." Ryan slows down and then stops at another set of doors, held in place with a pipe, probably from the nearby bathroom. "Im gonna check the bathrooms, meet back here in ten." He says as he walks off to the bathrooms. @KingHalliwell
 
Sarah gulped down the last of her water with a sigh, frowning as she returned the large bottle to her backpack. That was supposed to have lasted her at least until the afternoon, but the chase had left her thirsty and she could only safely ration so much. Dehydration was yet another thing that could set off her damned heart-


She took a deep breath, holding for several seconds before releasing it slowly. There was no point getting upset about that now, she just needed to make a supply run a little sooner than planned. And, she thought as she poked idly at the small holes that had begun to expose her knees, it was about time for a shopping trip anyway. She pulled up her mental map of the city… Macy's wasn't too far a walk from here, and on top of having everything she needed it was as good a place as any to continue her search. It was probably crawling with switchers, too, but it wouldn't hurt to scout it out. She could always raid any of the numerous smaller shops in the area if it looked too dangerous.


With that settled she rose to her feet, standing still for a minute to make sure her earlier dizziness wasn't going to return, but it seemed the episode had finally passed. She felt better than she had all day, in fact, and that was enough to boost her spirits as she set out.




The building was surprisingly empty. Despite a few switchers meandering about outside it hadn’t been difficult to find a clear entrance to the “world’s largest store”, but once inside it was almost too easy. It was nearly dead silent, and as the switchers weren’t exactly stealthy that usually meant they weren’t around. Sarah wondered briefly if someone had cleared the place out; there had been a few dead switchers outside and she’d come across a handful of reclaimed structures throughout the city. But those were usually heavily barricaded and almost always posted a guard to welcome or warn off strangers, depending on how paranoid the inhabitants were.


Maybe they’d cleared it and since moved on. Whatever the case, she wasn’t going to complain if something worked out for her today. She couldn’t let her guard down just yet though, so even knowing it would take all day at her current pace she continued to sneak deeper into the building.
 

Pete Macon


He observed the person, momentarily. He was obviously quite younger, possibly even fitter, than him, or so he supposed from his apparent appearance. Presumptions were something he wasn't quite knowledgeable at, nor would he ever be, considering the fact that they're, indeed, just some presumptions, indefinable and unrefined, at its best. He doubted the credibility of his awkward grin at presenting a bit of friendliness, which prompted him to loosen it a bit, seeing that they were attempting to have a common, peaceful and really not absurdly insane conversation, although somewhat failing, mostly at the latter.


He noticed the man withdrawing his knife from open view, which may have either signified a sign of peace, or a false sense of peace. Either way, he didn't really care, for at the current moment, the tension that lay in the atmosphere just moments ago, had ceased to exist.


He could already reflect on his earlier statement about the weather being good, which was, frankly, flawed and stupidly hot. And by that point, he couldn't even retract them words. He briefly glanced up at the glaring, almost mirage-inducing Sun, before averting his eyes back to the guy.


Mind-numbing, sketchy Sun. Fuck you!


His stance relaxed, mirroring the person in front of him, before proceeding to move a bit forward, not really that near to the person, but distanced from the ladder. Falling down from a building wasn't something he aimed to do.


"Much obliged, pal. To receive your invitation, to this tea party." He paused, inching closer to Louis, before sticking his hand out, in an attempt to initiate a hopefully non-aggressive handshake.


"Name's Pete. Pete Macon. Former last man standing, yet still alive, Louis."


He had, needless to say, adopted a less tensed smile. Liking the way the man had worded his statements, and sentences. It reeked out of utter weirdness, yet it was something that demanded humour and a but of playfulness, a thing that the apocalypse lacked.


@Surantum
 
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