[Telltale] The Walking Dead [Inactive]

Crawford was presenting a good impression on Jeff as they arrived. Matthew was beckoning him to come over. Jeff stopped to take a good look at the place. It didn't seem bad. It was well-fortified and people were actually in it. It looked like a nice community. Jeff missed this kind of setting. He needed a good rest for once. He walked towards where Matt and the rest were.


People looked at him differently though. It must be because of what he was wearing. He still had SWAT labeled on his back. His straight brown hair flew gently as the breeze blew by. He just followed closely behind the group quietly without saying a word.
 
James looked at the town around them. There were a fair few people, so he couldn't likely kill anyone here. He supposed he'd have to wait until they leave, or possibly... make that time come sooner.
 
"So, in there is where the big boss is at currently. He has this weird thing where he only wants to talk to one newcomer at a time, if that's ok." Terrence said, having pushed open the doors to the school and leading the group inside. He was now pointing to the principals office. Matthew nodded his head. "Sounds fine to me. I'll head on in first." Matthew creaked open the door slowly, and peered inside. The room was dark, the only place illuminated was the desk at the far end of the room. The light was coming from a candle, which now was shining over the face of a middle-aged man, who looked to be 50 at the most. The man spoke. "Please, close the door and sit down."


Matthew followed as the man had said, and closed the door, then approached the desk and sat down in the chair across.


"So, you're Mr. Crawford?"


"Oberson Crawford. I don't know why Terrence insists on calling me Mister!" Oberson shook his head, but was still smiling. Matthew began talking again.


"They said that you like meeting the newcomers?"


"Yes, that is correct. What is your name?"


"Matthew."


"That's a nice name. 'Gift of God!'"


"I'm not religious."


"Neither am I, but that's what it means."


"Right."


"How old are you?"


"29."


"Ok. What did you do before?"


"Surgeon. If you mean before dead people started walking."


"Exactly what I meant. However, we don't have the supplies for surgical work. If somebody has a heart failure, or anything else similar, we just normally off them on the spot. It sounds horrid but it really isn't. It's a mercy kill. We are in dire need of prefects, however. There was a break-in the other day, and three of our men got killed."


"Break-in?"


"The occasional lurker breaks through the gate, but there normally dispatched of quickly. It doesn't happen too often either."


"So you want me to be a prefect?"


"Yes, preferably you and two others on your group."


"I'm fine with it."


"Well, then that's settled. It was very nice to meet you Matthew."


"You too Oberson."


They shook hands, then parted ways as Matthew opened the door and looked at the others. "Next."
 
James was next.


Come on in! Crawford called through his door.


"Uh, hi. I'm James." He did his best to sound slightly nervous


"Ah, welcome, James. Do I detect some english in your accent?"


"Uh, yes, sir, I'm from England."


"Ah, right then. So, what did you do before the apocalypse? Student, were you?"


"Ah, no. I finished all my schooling early."


"Oh, very interesting! So did you take a university course as well as well?"


"Well, I studied for qualifications in mechanical engineering, biomechanical engineering, several in computing, and also quantum science."


"My, my, you must be quite the genius!"


"Um... I guess, kinda..."


"And modest too! Anyway, could you be on the repair team? You know, fixing things like cars and trucks that have broken down, and maybe you could also help keeping the walls up?"


"I... suppose so. Yeah I guess I could do that." If there was one thing that James enjoyed other than brutally murdering and slicing up his victims, it was engineering work.


"Excellent! WEll, it was nice to meet you, James."


"Uh, thanks, you too." James said, leaving through the door.


"Next!"
 
Also being one of the newcomers, Harry waited to make an impression on the owner of the compound. As a Professional man, he was not nervous or any of the sort. Instead, he waited patiently, being quite the reserved type. He also started thinking about asking for ammunition for the Handgun that he received back at the house that served as an over night shelter. However, what he had hoped for was reuniting with his friends.
 
Xobic was next he walked in the room and close the door behind him"Crawford my name is Xobic Dex you may call me Dex"
 
"Dex, huh? Why'd your parents call you Xobic?"


(By the way Blood dog, you can control Oberson if you'd like, because it's going to be weird with just one-liners back and forth.)
 
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"don't know they always call me Dex afterwards"


"what did you do Dex "


"I was a bounty hunter"


"a bounty hunter you will sound good as a Prefect or Guard on the walls it is up to you"


"I will be a Guard on the walls"


"okay that is good Dex please go and call the next person"


Xobic walked out of the room and looked at the others. "Next."
 
Aylaela stood from her silent perch and followed the path the large group of newcomers had taken into a building. The group was scattered about the entrance of the school, mostly quiet other than a few conversations among it's occupants.


She had avoided her own meeting with the Crawford man since she had arrived, not sure she wanted to be face to face with the person how could decide her fate at any given moment.


Though when Aylaela had realized that these people were going through with a meeting she dreaded, she thought it better to get it over with the others, than alone.


Leaning against a wall, she quietly awaited her turn, attempting to observe the others in the room with discretion.
 
Harry saw that it was his turn to go. He then went on to introduce himself to Crawford in a professional manner. He adjusted his tie, straightened out his suit, made sure his weapons were in line, then went to greet the man.
 
Xobic walked over to Lia and sit down beside her thin held her hand"I will go in there with you if you want me to"he whispered to her
 
Since it was Harry's turn, he walked into the office, looking very professional, like his days as a Mobster. 
As Harry entered the Office, he saw an old looking man. As he sat down across from Crawford, he adjusted his tie. "Hello, my name's Harry Scarcella. It is a pleasure to meet you." -Screen Fades and the Meeting continues off-screen-
 
"So, Terrence. What job do you have?" Matthew stated, standing beside the bearded man. Terrence soon replied. "Scavenger. We go out and get supplies, and sometimes survivors. Most people just come up to the gate though. What'd Crawford give you?"


"Prefect."


"That so? Well, look, there is a class that happens every night at about eight. You head there, do the class, and you'll get your uniform and pistol."


"What is the class about?"


"Just the rules of Crawford. It's where everyone goes whenever they're new."


"Alright. See you around Terrence."


"You too man!"


Matthew began exploring the town of Crawford. It's not like he had any doubts about the town, just wanted to explore it.


"What the f**k?!"


Nevermind.


In front of Matthew now, was a pile of zombies. Some were dead, some were stuck from poles, through their chest. Still squirming around.
 
After his meeting with the Man of Crawford, Harry was exploring the town as well, alongside Matthew, as he preferred to stick around with people he was familiar.
 
Neri took a deep breath and made her way into the room and saw an old man sitting at a desk scribbling onto a sheet of paper. "Hello, sir. My name is Neri."


Crawford looked up at her and smiled. "Another religious name, I am Oberson Crawford. Pleasure to meet you." He put the pen down and motioned over to the chair. "Please, take a seat. You are a part of their group, right?" He referred to those waiting on the other side of the door.


"Yeah."


"How did you meet?"


"Uh, at a pharmacy. I was injured and they helped me." She rubbed her slowly healing arm gently.


"Injured?" His face became rather serious. "How?"


"A bullet."


"Are you alright?"


"Last time I checked, yes." She felt rather uncomfortable in the small plastic chair, the last time she had sat in one of these was back in high school.


"And you joined them just like that, no questions no nothing?"


"We're all wandering with our own problems, adding someone eases onto yours would only be an unnecessary hassle, besides they were kind enough to have me go with them I wasn't going to pry."


"Hm." He scribbled something else down. "So what did you do before all of this?"


Neri thought these types of questions were the stupidest ones to ask, who the hell cared what anyone did before this. It was all about survival now not the last paycheck one received almost six months ago. "Does it really matter?"


"Humor me."


She sighed. "A musician." Crawford looked her over as the smile grew on his face.


"I've heard those jobs don't pay all to well."


"I had a fancy sheet of paper that told my employers I was a professional. But I did teach private lessons and had a few jobs here and there."


"Such as?"


"I worked at my cousins bar." At that he raised an eyebrow.


"A musician and a bar waitress? Not a very good combination."


"It payed the bills, so I didn't mind." She shrugged.


"I see, what did you play?"


"Various instruments." The old man stared at her clearly wanting her to elaborate. "Violin, guitar, piano, some cello and I guess that semester of trumpet counts too."


"I once had a friend that was completely obsessed with his guitars, he was always his happiest playing one. I'm sure you must miss it greatly." Neri nodded. "Perhaps you can help these people get some normalcy back if we give you something we found a while ago, what do you say?"


"I can do at least that."


"Good, thank you, and if you could please send the next person in." With a nod of agreement she stood and turned to the door. "Oh by the way, you have a bit of a Spanish accent. Where are you from? Mexico?"


"New York." She looked back to she frown on the mans face. She felt a bit irritated, even after the world went to complete shit, these types of things were ever so important. "But I traveled around Central America until I ten, if that's the answer you were looking for." With that she opened the door. "He's ready for another."
 
Ryker caught the door and slipped inside Mr. Crawford's room. It wasn't until he was standing in front of the man that he realized he was still fully armed. "Sorry about the weapons I just got here". Mr. Crawford waved it off as if the bow and crowbar caked in dried blood was something he saw everyday. "What did you do before all this?" He asked matter of pointedly. Ryker shrugged "worked at a grocery store and went to school". "So were did you learn to use that?" he asked motioning to the bow. Ryker shrugged again "local archery club I was a part of. "Can you hit anything?" "


"Best shot with a longbow there?" Mr. Crawford nodded. "Will guard duty suit you". Ryker nodded smiling "Yes sir. thank you". Ryker got up and walked out of the office. "He's ready whenever you are he said to the waiting group". After that Ryker decided to linger he hadn't been in Crawford long and maybe somebody would show him around.
 
"I'm not going crazy, am I?!" Matthew looked back to Harry, and then back to the pile of zombies. It was horrible. "What the f**k is that?!" A man soon walked over to Matthew's cries, and looked at him.


"I'm guessing you're new here? That pile is because we ran out of supplies to build a fence. The ones stuck on poles are to scare off bandits. No survivors come from that way, no friendly ones at least."
 
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