StoneWolf18
Within the Depths of a Dream
Please refrain from posting until the roleplay has begun!
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The Wastes (IC)
- Thread starter StoneWolf18
- Start date
GoldenHeartedGhoul
Generally Generous Undead
Autumn of 2018
Drendel City, East Coast USA
2:30 AM
1st Week After Infection
Whether or not the people of this world could drag themselves from their holes to survive and carve out something for themselves was yet to be seen. In the span of a week well over ten percent of the world's population had fallen ill. No one was prepared for the massacre that filled the past week. Is any of this macabre getting through to anyone? Without using a handful of fancy words, the living are fighting the dead. Chaos has a firm grip on what's left of our home.
Officer Douglas Trenton was a man of the people. He was a proud man. He served to protect men and women from the dangers of their own people. His precinct had been ordered to leave the city and avoid civilian contact at all contacts. The officer's families were evacuated via private helicopter with a few government officials and a few well paying individuals. That handful of cowards fled Drendel City, quickly taken to a neighboring citadel of defense. Government workers and public security officers were some of the few to take priority in prime-emergency rescue. After them came the great minds of the world. The doctors and professors, as you ought to know. What little space thereafter was given to the highest bidder before society had been torn apart. "Annihilation Assurance" it was marketed as. To the dismay of many, the Citadel of Defense was declared unsafe after the new inhabitants were quickly torn asunder by undead attack.
Really, none of that matters. Officer Douglas had been sitting at his desk in the precinct long after his co-officers left the city. His feet were propped on his desk as he manually loaded large rifle rounds into a magazine fit for a rather intimidating rifle. Several more magazines similar to the one in his hands were neatly loaded and lined up. They were ready for action. Those bullets were his men now. They never faltered and put their lives on the firing line for him. It's a roundabout way of saying Doug liked that rifle and the 5.56 rounds he loaded into it.
A majority of the police department's weapon locker had been taken during the evacuation. What was left, though, provided Douglas with enough firepower to muscle through the tireless undead. It provided him with enough to make a difference and truthfully, that's all that mattered to him. His sense of justice took precedent over his own self preservation. In the end, it did get him killed... But where one story ends, the next begins.
Officer Douglas had spent days rounding up capable men and women from the neighboring housing complexes. He promised safety and guidance, to which he provided with confidence. Even when faced with doubt, he held strong and gave people hope... His posse grew to a dozen or so. With enough manpower, he guided his people to secure a bank for shelter. It provided strong defense points, and the security deposit rooms could be used as a place of retreat.
It seemed perfect. A graceful leader, and willing followers made Douglas powerful. With that power, he continued to help people. His fatal mistake came when he took in an injured survivor. He wasn't infected, despite what one may expect... No, the survivor's actions had incidentally forced a concentrated mob of Fresh undead storm the bank.
The screams of the undead drowned out the cries of the survivors. The mob had attacked in such force that the group was forced to act quickly, or die an agonizing death. Despite their efforts, the infected's numbers were too great. What remaining survivors were pushed to the back of the bank where they began funneling into a safety deposit room to hide from the ravenous dead.
Without Douglas firing into the crowd of attackers, the small group of five would've perished at the groping claws of the undead. They were atop him in seconds, giving the five enough time to lock themselves in the room. His cry of combat rung out even after the bullets had stopped flying. He pleaded with the survivors to not leave for him. He had accepted his fate and didn't want any more deaths under his guidance...
As the safety deposit door shut, all sound left with it. The sound proofed walls gave no preview to what horror waited for them beyond. The silence was deafening. The sudden absence of noise gave way to regret.
As the last survivors of Douglas' group... Will you let his death be in vain?
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GoldenHeartedGhoul
Generally Generous Undead
It had been a single hour since George was locked in the safety deposit room with four others. She didn't know them, but somewhere in her Pre-Z self, she wanted to. She could look up at any one of them, and dream about who they were, and what they did. Their faces were a welcome sight. On a few silent moments, she'd considered being the first one to speak up. To try and lighten the mood with something funny, or satire. Every time she did, she took it back. She silenced herself in fear of making the situation worse. George instead lain her ill-gotten revolver on her lap, occasionally clicking the cylinder over by one chamber.
George had seated herself in one corner of the new silent hell. She was scared. She was shaking a bit. It was in the bitter silence she suddenly felt like she was going to puke. That very sensation set her senses on fire! She'd nearly gasped thinking she was turning into ravenous monster. A handful of seconds ticked by, and she was sweating bullets. She wasn't turning, she was just scared.
She swallowed her fear and stood up from her cross-legged position in the corner. The revolver was soon tucked away in her waistband as she crossed her arms. Though truthfully, it looked more like she was hugging herself. "I - I don't know about you guys, but... I really don't want to stay cooped up in here anymore. Y'think we could... I dunno, check'n see if she's safe?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she reached up to the bridge of her nose and pushed her glasses up where they belonged. They'd gotten crooked and bent out of shape... But, in some way or another, they looked right on her. She didn't exude confidence with them on, but it did make her look a little more normal if one could consider that.
"I mean... I know shit's not technically safe anymore, but... Y'know, like, if they bank's clear of zombies 'n' shit." She wore a nervous smile, but it was evident that she didn't want to stay sitting on her ass for long.
George had seated herself in one corner of the new silent hell. She was scared. She was shaking a bit. It was in the bitter silence she suddenly felt like she was going to puke. That very sensation set her senses on fire! She'd nearly gasped thinking she was turning into ravenous monster. A handful of seconds ticked by, and she was sweating bullets. She wasn't turning, she was just scared.
She swallowed her fear and stood up from her cross-legged position in the corner. The revolver was soon tucked away in her waistband as she crossed her arms. Though truthfully, it looked more like she was hugging herself. "I - I don't know about you guys, but... I really don't want to stay cooped up in here anymore. Y'think we could... I dunno, check'n see if she's safe?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she reached up to the bridge of her nose and pushed her glasses up where they belonged. They'd gotten crooked and bent out of shape... But, in some way or another, they looked right on her. She didn't exude confidence with them on, but it did make her look a little more normal if one could consider that.
"I mean... I know shit's not technically safe anymore, but... Y'know, like, if they bank's clear of zombies 'n' shit." She wore a nervous smile, but it was evident that she didn't want to stay sitting on her ass for long.
Noivian
Drinker of coffees
Skye had been crying. Not really, not on the outside. He'd run out of tears long ago in his youth. On the inside, it was pouring. Doug, who had been a guiding light, a leader of hope in this trying week, was dead in minutes. During the hour that passed, Skye held a wake for him in his mind. The silence that passed within the group seemed to be acknowledging this, joining in, almost. Doug had been there for all of them. Now, he was gone. It was astonishing, how quickly the fragile flame of life could be snuffed out. He had seen it many times prior on the street, pre-Z, but it always got to him. It always made him think about his life and the people he surrounded himself with.
He looked to those people now, eyes dry but face downcast. He was fearful, yes, but he was also in mourning. Mourning for Doug, mourning for them. They'd backed themselves into a corner - how were they supposed to know if outside was clear? Open the door and check, so they could be bitten, too? He turned his gaze to the raccoon when she suggested what he had been thinking about. A quick glance around the room proved there was no other way out. Bank vaults typically didn't have two entrances...
"Whoever has the most protection should go first," Skye mumbled his two cents, turning to look to the ground beneath him. He currently sat leaning against the wall, flight feathers tucked up against his arms so the limbs looked less like wings and more like actual arms.
He looked to those people now, eyes dry but face downcast. He was fearful, yes, but he was also in mourning. Mourning for Doug, mourning for them. They'd backed themselves into a corner - how were they supposed to know if outside was clear? Open the door and check, so they could be bitten, too? He turned his gaze to the raccoon when she suggested what he had been thinking about. A quick glance around the room proved there was no other way out. Bank vaults typically didn't have two entrances...
"Whoever has the most protection should go first," Skye mumbled his two cents, turning to look to the ground beneath him. He currently sat leaning against the wall, flight feathers tucked up against his arms so the limbs looked less like wings and more like actual arms.
KingofAesir
Ghostly Presence
Fable was angry. Of course he was angry. He'd stood idly by, locked up and hiding in a damn bank vault while Doug and the rest got slaughtered. The stag had his fists curled up into a bawl and he was leaning heavily on the wall, his antlers touching the cold surface.
The others seemed to caught up in their own thoughts to say or do anything and he found himself wondering what was just out side those doors. Perhaps, by some miracle, someone from Doug's extensive group had made it. Somehow. Fable found himself hoping that someone had made it,hoping that it wasn't all gone. It was hopeless, he knew, but he couldn't help but hope. Hope was all he had now.
Someone spoke up. Fable's blue eyes glanced up and locked on a raccoon across from him, he opened his mouth to speak but another beat him to it. A falcon, not to far away from the raccoon woman, spoke his opinion about whoever had the most protection should open the door and Ben greater by the no doubt gruesome scene before them.
"If no one else wants to...I'll do it." His hand fell to the hilt of his sword, something he'd managed to keep with him. The thing was his most prized possession, the best damn sword he'd ever manufactured. It had a slick, long silver blade accumpanied by a black, leather wrapped hilt. He loved the thing and would wield it to his dying breath to avenge the man he'd let die without even lifting a single figure to stop it.
The others seemed to caught up in their own thoughts to say or do anything and he found himself wondering what was just out side those doors. Perhaps, by some miracle, someone from Doug's extensive group had made it. Somehow. Fable found himself hoping that someone had made it,hoping that it wasn't all gone. It was hopeless, he knew, but he couldn't help but hope. Hope was all he had now.
Someone spoke up. Fable's blue eyes glanced up and locked on a raccoon across from him, he opened his mouth to speak but another beat him to it. A falcon, not to far away from the raccoon woman, spoke his opinion about whoever had the most protection should open the door and Ben greater by the no doubt gruesome scene before them.
"If no one else wants to...I'll do it." His hand fell to the hilt of his sword, something he'd managed to keep with him. The thing was his most prized possession, the best damn sword he'd ever manufactured. It had a slick, long silver blade accumpanied by a black, leather wrapped hilt. He loved the thing and would wield it to his dying breath to avenge the man he'd let die without even lifting a single figure to stop it.
Centari
Transcendent Plague Doctor
Paxon, as calmly as one could in such a situation, followed the handful of others into the safety deposit room about an hour ago. Was it an hour ago? Paxon couldn't tell, time felt like a blur ever since the damned epidemic, possibly pandemic, started. There was only one goal on his mind, of which he thought he'd be able to accomplish if he joined a large group such as the one Doug led but unfortunately that wasn't case. All that had accomplished was getting him locked in a room with 3...? 4...other people or so. Paxon wasn't really counting. At the moment he was hungry after sitting atop the table in the center of the safety deposit room doing nothing for such a long time.
He reached into his hiker's backpack and retrieved a small bag of prepackaged chips, Furito's as it were. He wasted no time to pop the tiny bag open and he dug his hand inside to crunch down on the salty savory snack after moving his face mask out of the way. He couldn't exactly hear what the others were talking about over the crunching sound from chewing the chips. All he did hear was something or another about checking the door. He looked to his left, then to his right as he finished his snack to see if anyone was going to get up to do it. After a moment or two he figured no one else was, that or they were waiting for Paxon to chip in... Either way he wasn't going to sit there and debate who should do it, he'd rather get it out of the way himself. After he stuffed the now empty chip bag into the pocket of his jacket, he picked up his sledgehammer which had been resting on the ground below him and hopped off the table.
The fat panda took his sweet merciful time walking towards the door. His boots thudding against the hardwood as he slowly approached it, not out of hesitation but rather laziness. He opened the thing rather quickly to figure out whether they could leave or not and certainly not being the least bit cautious in doing so either. "Plug your nose." Was all Paxon said to the rest of the group as he waltz out of the room, boots splashing through puddles of vomit, blood, and puss as he brought his goggles over his eyes and face mask back up around his nose and mouth. There were no infected in sight, at least for now... But this was only the back of the bank, the rest of it was yet to be seen.
He reached into his hiker's backpack and retrieved a small bag of prepackaged chips, Furito's as it were. He wasted no time to pop the tiny bag open and he dug his hand inside to crunch down on the salty savory snack after moving his face mask out of the way. He couldn't exactly hear what the others were talking about over the crunching sound from chewing the chips. All he did hear was something or another about checking the door. He looked to his left, then to his right as he finished his snack to see if anyone was going to get up to do it. After a moment or two he figured no one else was, that or they were waiting for Paxon to chip in... Either way he wasn't going to sit there and debate who should do it, he'd rather get it out of the way himself. After he stuffed the now empty chip bag into the pocket of his jacket, he picked up his sledgehammer which had been resting on the ground below him and hopped off the table.
The fat panda took his sweet merciful time walking towards the door. His boots thudding against the hardwood as he slowly approached it, not out of hesitation but rather laziness. He opened the thing rather quickly to figure out whether they could leave or not and certainly not being the least bit cautious in doing so either. "Plug your nose." Was all Paxon said to the rest of the group as he waltz out of the room, boots splashing through puddles of vomit, blood, and puss as he brought his goggles over his eyes and face mask back up around his nose and mouth. There were no infected in sight, at least for now... But this was only the back of the bank, the rest of it was yet to be seen.
Raku
Four Thousand Club
Adam looked up from the corner of the room to see people leaving the vault. Then the smell hit him. It smelled like rotting corpses and vomit. As fast as he could he pulled up his mask. He was the only one still in the room. He got up and grabbed his duffel bag, swung it over his shoulder, and left the vault. All he heard at the moment was the splashing of vomit puddles as he walked through them. He whispered to himself "Damn". He was fully out of the vault they had been driven back to an hour prior. He kept listening for any other infected roming the bank, nothing.
For a moment, he felt nothing but relief. Then it all hit him, worry and fear. He had no idea where his family is or if there even alive. It was more overwhelming than the smell of the bank. He met up with the others. They looked to have a similar goal to his, make sure there are no infected in the building. He made his way from the back of the bank to the lobby, still no zeds in sight. "They left, they're gone", he said to himself in a relieving tone. But the front was worse than the back. Puddles of blood and vomit were everywhere. He thought, "This is what hell is".
He continued the search, nothing. No zeds, no other survivors other than the ones that managed to get to the vault. The silence was unsettlling, scary almost. But he couldn't let that distract him now. The way things have been lately, he felt that anything could happen at any moment. Another thing came into mind, where is Doug? What happened to his body? Did those things eat him? He might never find that answer, but he knew, he would never let that happen to anyone else.
For a moment, he felt nothing but relief. Then it all hit him, worry and fear. He had no idea where his family is or if there even alive. It was more overwhelming than the smell of the bank. He met up with the others. They looked to have a similar goal to his, make sure there are no infected in the building. He made his way from the back of the bank to the lobby, still no zeds in sight. "They left, they're gone", he said to himself in a relieving tone. But the front was worse than the back. Puddles of blood and vomit were everywhere. He thought, "This is what hell is".
He continued the search, nothing. No zeds, no other survivors other than the ones that managed to get to the vault. The silence was unsettlling, scary almost. But he couldn't let that distract him now. The way things have been lately, he felt that anything could happen at any moment. Another thing came into mind, where is Doug? What happened to his body? Did those things eat him? He might never find that answer, but he knew, he would never let that happen to anyone else.
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GoldenHeartedGhoul
Generally Generous Undead
George had glanced to Fable with a look of relief. She sure as hell didn't want to be the first one to leave, and as much as she wished she could say she'd volunteer to go... She couldn't find the courage. She was strong enough to shoot a man, but not enough to lead a group into uncertainty. The heroism she saw in him began to rise since she lacked the heart to do it herself. She reached up, and clapped Fable on the shoulder.
"You're a braver dude than I am, my man," she said, hoping her measure of assurance would draw further bravery. She smiled up at him and opened her mouth to say more, but the creak and moan of the deposit-room's door coming open grabbed her attention. On a knee-jerk reaction she fumbled for the machete carefully tucked into a fold in her duffel bag. It was a clumsy draw, but it rested in her hands soon after.
The fat panda - George hadn't a chance to ask his name - had already unlocked the door and stood in the doorway to the rest of the bank.
"Shit, dude! What are you-" George gave a groan before kneeling down and shouldering her bag. She began rifling through it in a mild panic. Before she wasted too much time, she found her goggles and the cotton face mask a former paramedic that was in the group. Both of them fit over her face as she shuffled forward to stand a few feet behind Paxon. She was shaking again, but the stench of various bodily fluids grabbed her attention with fresh horror. What lay beyond her was nothing less than the aftermath of a massacre.
Aside from the various puddles of foul, viscous fluids, there was almost nothing left... Corpses, either undead or once-survivor had lain forgotten in the corridor. If they were alive and infected they'd be running and screaming obscenities. These bodies died under a hail of gunfire, or at the end of their own weapons. Though not all of the group had left the mortal coil on their own terms. It's a safe bet to say that a large percent of the group had joined the undead horde.
Despite this scene painted in blood the centerpiece of this menagerie of death was the man who saved everyone's life. Officer Douglas, rest his soul, had been left leaning against a wall with his rifle still cradled in his lap. Spent bullet casings littered the ground around him, signifying his dying cause. In the end, he must've taken his own life. The hole blowing open his skull, and leading to the spatter of rusty crimson and bits of gray matter was evidence enough of that.
Naturally, George had nearly retched at the sight and retreated from the door, back into the safety deposit room. She leaned against the table in the center of the room, her mask now moved to rest around her neck. She was gasping, and on the edge of losing what little there was in her stomach.
"Oh, my god," she murmured between the shallow breaths she'd been taking. This went on for a few seconds until she straightened herself out and leaned against the table, faking an appearance of forced 'chill'.
"You're a braver dude than I am, my man," she said, hoping her measure of assurance would draw further bravery. She smiled up at him and opened her mouth to say more, but the creak and moan of the deposit-room's door coming open grabbed her attention. On a knee-jerk reaction she fumbled for the machete carefully tucked into a fold in her duffel bag. It was a clumsy draw, but it rested in her hands soon after.
The fat panda - George hadn't a chance to ask his name - had already unlocked the door and stood in the doorway to the rest of the bank.
"Shit, dude! What are you-" George gave a groan before kneeling down and shouldering her bag. She began rifling through it in a mild panic. Before she wasted too much time, she found her goggles and the cotton face mask a former paramedic that was in the group. Both of them fit over her face as she shuffled forward to stand a few feet behind Paxon. She was shaking again, but the stench of various bodily fluids grabbed her attention with fresh horror. What lay beyond her was nothing less than the aftermath of a massacre.
Aside from the various puddles of foul, viscous fluids, there was almost nothing left... Corpses, either undead or once-survivor had lain forgotten in the corridor. If they were alive and infected they'd be running and screaming obscenities. These bodies died under a hail of gunfire, or at the end of their own weapons. Though not all of the group had left the mortal coil on their own terms. It's a safe bet to say that a large percent of the group had joined the undead horde.
Despite this scene painted in blood the centerpiece of this menagerie of death was the man who saved everyone's life. Officer Douglas, rest his soul, had been left leaning against a wall with his rifle still cradled in his lap. Spent bullet casings littered the ground around him, signifying his dying cause. In the end, he must've taken his own life. The hole blowing open his skull, and leading to the spatter of rusty crimson and bits of gray matter was evidence enough of that.
Naturally, George had nearly retched at the sight and retreated from the door, back into the safety deposit room. She leaned against the table in the center of the room, her mask now moved to rest around her neck. She was gasping, and on the edge of losing what little there was in her stomach.
"Oh, my god," she murmured between the shallow breaths she'd been taking. This went on for a few seconds until she straightened herself out and leaned against the table, faking an appearance of forced 'chill'.
Noivian
Drinker of coffees
Skye nodded in agreement to the raccoon's comment to the stag, looking up the larger male from his sitting position on the ground. The panda, however, seemed to quickly establish himself as the pack leader, almost marching to the door and prying it open. Taking the panda's advice, he pulled down his bandanna to cover the nose slits on his beak, and adjusted his goggles so they covered his eyes, standing and following the group to the door. Still, the smell that reached him made him want to retch, if the view wasn't already as disgusting. He got a quick glance at Doug, or what remained of him, and turned away, fighting to keep down his lunch. This was it. He fully agreed with the fox - this was Hell.
His turning away from the scene prompted him to remember he had left his sling backpack on the ground of the vault. Pulling out his gun, he slipped the backpack onto his back. Turning back, gun at the ready, he stepped carefully out of the vault, not wanting to get any of those disgusting bodily fluids on or in his shoes. The shoes themselves had to be custom made for each client, so there wasn't going to be another pair if he messed these up. Pausing, Skye noticed the raccoon turn and head back inside the vault, and he had half a mind to follow her. Unfortunately, the bird was so bad with words, he felt like he wouldn't make any difference. He supposed he'd leave that to the stag to sort out.
His turning away from the scene prompted him to remember he had left his sling backpack on the ground of the vault. Pulling out his gun, he slipped the backpack onto his back. Turning back, gun at the ready, he stepped carefully out of the vault, not wanting to get any of those disgusting bodily fluids on or in his shoes. The shoes themselves had to be custom made for each client, so there wasn't going to be another pair if he messed these up. Pausing, Skye noticed the raccoon turn and head back inside the vault, and he had half a mind to follow her. Unfortunately, the bird was so bad with words, he felt like he wouldn't make any difference. He supposed he'd leave that to the stag to sort out.
KingofAesir
Ghostly Presence
Fable watched as the panda immediately took it upon himself to open the door and sighed as everyone else began filtering out of the vault, he began to move forward himself right behind the falcon but he was stopped when the raccoon woman came rushing back into the vault. The smell didn't really bother him, he'd gotten used to the smell of rotting flesh long ago because of the fact that his father had been a butcher. After thinking on it for a moment, he turned and reentered the vault where the raccoon had now seemed to recover herself slightly.
The clothe around his nose fell as he began speaking in a low, but soft voice. "My advice would be to just keep walking." He looked back at the door, and found himself angry that he hadn't at least tried to help poor old Doug. "We have to get outta here before those poor people come back as one of those things or whatever happens." He offered her a smile and a hand,"How bout this, my names Fable, I'll help ya get through all that, huh?" Fables smile was warm and inviting, he'd never been too good with words due to his lack of ever really understanding language or English at all in school. He was pretty okay at comforting and being friendly to people though.
Interacting with: George @GoldenHeartedGhoul
The clothe around his nose fell as he began speaking in a low, but soft voice. "My advice would be to just keep walking." He looked back at the door, and found himself angry that he hadn't at least tried to help poor old Doug. "We have to get outta here before those poor people come back as one of those things or whatever happens." He offered her a smile and a hand,"How bout this, my names Fable, I'll help ya get through all that, huh?" Fables smile was warm and inviting, he'd never been too good with words due to his lack of ever really understanding language or English at all in school. He was pretty okay at comforting and being friendly to people though.
Interacting with: George @GoldenHeartedGhoul
Centari
Transcendent Plague Doctor
Paxon peered around the corner from the door, allowing Adam to pass him to search the bank for any danger. Although he wasn't being nearly as cautious, he followed suit. Not bothering to stay behind any cover or check corpses except for one. Doug's. The kind man who had taken so many people in, who offered protection, food, and shelter for anyone who needed it. Paxon knelt down, looking over his corpse. "Well... gun's no use for a dead man." He gripped the rifle and pulled it from Doug's literally cold dead hands. He removed his bag for a moment so he could attach the rifle to it before slinging it over his back. He didn't bother checking the ammo or for any on Doug's body, Paxon was fully aware than any sensible man would save the last shot for himself.
He walked into the main hall of the bank without looking back, the stench of putrid vomit and other such bodily fluids managing to get through his face mask. The concentration of the bio-hazards could still be just as dangerous without or even with a mask. But naturally Paxon didn't care much, slowly making his way towards the entrance of the bank. He either didn't take notice or didn't care that two of them were still in the safety deposit room. All he wanted to do was get out of this place and look for Rudy, she had to be out there somewhere...
Once he arrived at the entrance, broken glass cracked at his feet. The normally decorative glass that filled in both the windows and the doors were completely shattered and scattered glass riddled the floor among bodily fluids, bits of flesh, dead zombies rotting away, and bullet casings. None of it phased him, the fat panda merely walked through the mess to the outside where he could get somewhat fresh air although filtered through his mask of course. Unfortunately the fresh air wasn't coming anytime soon, a few blocks away there was a raging fire eating away at buildings. Smoke filled his lungs and caused him to cough a few times. For now, he wasn't sure which way to go so he decided to wait for the rest of the group. He took a seat on the large cracked marble steps leading up to the bank. He pulled a small bamboo stick from his back pocket and chewed on it thoughtfully...or rather mindlessly but he looked like he was thinking.
He walked into the main hall of the bank without looking back, the stench of putrid vomit and other such bodily fluids managing to get through his face mask. The concentration of the bio-hazards could still be just as dangerous without or even with a mask. But naturally Paxon didn't care much, slowly making his way towards the entrance of the bank. He either didn't take notice or didn't care that two of them were still in the safety deposit room. All he wanted to do was get out of this place and look for Rudy, she had to be out there somewhere...
Once he arrived at the entrance, broken glass cracked at his feet. The normally decorative glass that filled in both the windows and the doors were completely shattered and scattered glass riddled the floor among bodily fluids, bits of flesh, dead zombies rotting away, and bullet casings. None of it phased him, the fat panda merely walked through the mess to the outside where he could get somewhat fresh air although filtered through his mask of course. Unfortunately the fresh air wasn't coming anytime soon, a few blocks away there was a raging fire eating away at buildings. Smoke filled his lungs and caused him to cough a few times. For now, he wasn't sure which way to go so he decided to wait for the rest of the group. He took a seat on the large cracked marble steps leading up to the bank. He pulled a small bamboo stick from his back pocket and chewed on it thoughtfully...or rather mindlessly but he looked like he was thinking.
Raku
Four Thousand Club
Now finished with his search, Adam believed everything was okay. For now. Now with the presence of a threat in the building out of his mind he calmed himself. It was then when he realised how stiff he was from sitting in that corner. He walked down the hall he was in, paying more attention to his surroundings this time. He looked out the windows, or what was left of them, to see a smoke stack. It loomed over the end of the street like a giant cloud. To believe that these things were once people disturbed him. The smell was getting to him, it was a battle to keep his lunch, and Adam was losing.
He entered the lobby, this time noticing the sound of cracking glass. He looked down to see not only glass, but bullet casings as well. These reasured Adam that Doug went down fighting hard. Looking up he saw the panda sitting on the front steps, with something on his back. Doug's rifle. Adam knew know that Doug is still in the building. Walking through the lobby at a bit faster pace, he saw him. Sitting on the floor, back agaisnt the wall, lied Doug. He had a bullet hole in the side of his head. Adam was glad Doug wasn't getting infected.
But still, Adam squared up across from Doug. Adam put his back up against the wall and looked at the officer in front of him. He didn't see Doug this time. He saw his friend Michael. This triggered a flashback to Adam"s tour. His team was storming a hill ocuppied by enemy forces. A DshK gun at the top was tearing them to shreads and they were danger close. Adam had the shot, all he needed was a rifle. Michael saw one dropped by another dead soldier. He got up and through it at Adam, but after he did a bullet went straight through his temple.
Adam began to cry once more, but stopped himself. They were in a better place. He got up, and realised something, he doesn't have his eyes covered. He puts his bag on the counter and searched it for his glasses. Nothing. He made his way back to the vault to see they were in the corner, but on the other side of the vault was the raccoon girl and stag. Before getting his glasses he walked over to them and knelt down. Pulling his mask down, he says " He's right, we should keep moving. We don't want to get trapped again". He looked at them both and said "Another thing is that if we're gonna survive, we need to get acquainted with each other". "My name is Adam. Nice to meet ya", he says while offering a hand to both of them.
Interacting with George, @GoldenHeartedGhoul
and Fable, @Iskolde
He entered the lobby, this time noticing the sound of cracking glass. He looked down to see not only glass, but bullet casings as well. These reasured Adam that Doug went down fighting hard. Looking up he saw the panda sitting on the front steps, with something on his back. Doug's rifle. Adam knew know that Doug is still in the building. Walking through the lobby at a bit faster pace, he saw him. Sitting on the floor, back agaisnt the wall, lied Doug. He had a bullet hole in the side of his head. Adam was glad Doug wasn't getting infected.
But still, Adam squared up across from Doug. Adam put his back up against the wall and looked at the officer in front of him. He didn't see Doug this time. He saw his friend Michael. This triggered a flashback to Adam"s tour. His team was storming a hill ocuppied by enemy forces. A DshK gun at the top was tearing them to shreads and they were danger close. Adam had the shot, all he needed was a rifle. Michael saw one dropped by another dead soldier. He got up and through it at Adam, but after he did a bullet went straight through his temple.
Adam began to cry once more, but stopped himself. They were in a better place. He got up, and realised something, he doesn't have his eyes covered. He puts his bag on the counter and searched it for his glasses. Nothing. He made his way back to the vault to see they were in the corner, but on the other side of the vault was the raccoon girl and stag. Before getting his glasses he walked over to them and knelt down. Pulling his mask down, he says " He's right, we should keep moving. We don't want to get trapped again". He looked at them both and said "Another thing is that if we're gonna survive, we need to get acquainted with each other". "My name is Adam. Nice to meet ya", he says while offering a hand to both of them.
Interacting with George, @GoldenHeartedGhoul
and Fable, @Iskolde
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GoldenHeartedGhoul
Generally Generous Undead
George had taken a few deep breaths and gripped the side of the table to steady herself. It occurred to her that she was the only woman among the group - showing weakness now wasn't an option. She straightened herself and readjusted her glasses again. It puzzles her to think that she was able to shoot a man in self defense, but the corpse of a man who risked his life for her... She couldn't bear to look at him. The stench didn't bother her anymore, no matter how fresh it was compared to the once-stale air of the deposit room.
"I'm good, I promise," she finally said, dragging the back of her hand against her forehead. She clapped Fable on the shoulder again showing her thanks, but she didn't want to be babysat. It hurt her pride to think she would be the weak link, so she pushed the weight off her shoulders. She listened to what Adam and Fable had to say, but rejected Adam's hand and slid herself between them to move towards the door. "I'm George. Let's get the hell out of here," she threw over her shoulder as she turned the corner, and began walking down the corridor.
As she walked, she slid her goggles over her glasses, and the cotton mask back over her mouth. It did little for the smell, but it gave her another layer of protection in the least. She tried to blot Doug's corpse out of her mind as she walked on. She didn't look back at what was left of him although she did have a silent thanks for him. She wanted to have him buried, or perhaps take something to remember him by... But she refrained from doing so. There were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. So, she joined the panda and falcon in the foyer.
She didn't have much to say, but if one of them were to glance at her, she'd give a wave and start rummaging around through what was left of the safe house. The quiet nibble of hunger had been pinching at her, but she hadn't grabbed anything to eat; she certainly wasn't going to ask any of the others for food either. Still, her noble scavenging seemed useless when all she turned up with from the fallen survivors was a handful of useless baubles. Nothing useful; figures. The twisted faces of agony, those belonging to the fallen survivors, didn't seem to bother her for the moment. She didn't rightly know any of them and she'd managed to stuff any signs of disgust away as she searched their person.
Eventually, she found something. Stowed away in the pocket of a deceased jackrabbit was a folded pocket guide of Drendel City. It wasn't exactly a map, but it detailed the streets and major roadways leading in and out of the City well enough. She took it, and plopped herself down a few feet from Paxon. "So much for riding this mess out," she murmurs and pressed a thumb against her chin. "Hey, big guy. Y'ever been to LSC?" She waved the little guide at Paxon, trying to show him what she meant.
On the back of the guide, there was a note left for the young man she found it on. It read:
Reed,
I'm going to Little Sin City. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but we don't stand a chance here. That police officer is going to get everyone killed and I don't want to be around when he does. I'm sorry, but I'd rather try my luck on the road than in that bank.
-Andrew
"I'm good, I promise," she finally said, dragging the back of her hand against her forehead. She clapped Fable on the shoulder again showing her thanks, but she didn't want to be babysat. It hurt her pride to think she would be the weak link, so she pushed the weight off her shoulders. She listened to what Adam and Fable had to say, but rejected Adam's hand and slid herself between them to move towards the door. "I'm George. Let's get the hell out of here," she threw over her shoulder as she turned the corner, and began walking down the corridor.
As she walked, she slid her goggles over her glasses, and the cotton mask back over her mouth. It did little for the smell, but it gave her another layer of protection in the least. She tried to blot Doug's corpse out of her mind as she walked on. She didn't look back at what was left of him although she did have a silent thanks for him. She wanted to have him buried, or perhaps take something to remember him by... But she refrained from doing so. There were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. So, she joined the panda and falcon in the foyer.
She didn't have much to say, but if one of them were to glance at her, she'd give a wave and start rummaging around through what was left of the safe house. The quiet nibble of hunger had been pinching at her, but she hadn't grabbed anything to eat; she certainly wasn't going to ask any of the others for food either. Still, her noble scavenging seemed useless when all she turned up with from the fallen survivors was a handful of useless baubles. Nothing useful; figures. The twisted faces of agony, those belonging to the fallen survivors, didn't seem to bother her for the moment. She didn't rightly know any of them and she'd managed to stuff any signs of disgust away as she searched their person.
Eventually, she found something. Stowed away in the pocket of a deceased jackrabbit was a folded pocket guide of Drendel City. It wasn't exactly a map, but it detailed the streets and major roadways leading in and out of the City well enough. She took it, and plopped herself down a few feet from Paxon. "So much for riding this mess out," she murmurs and pressed a thumb against her chin. "Hey, big guy. Y'ever been to LSC?" She waved the little guide at Paxon, trying to show him what she meant.
On the back of the guide, there was a note left for the young man she found it on. It read:
Reed,
I'm going to Little Sin City. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but we don't stand a chance here. That police officer is going to get everyone killed and I don't want to be around when he does. I'm sorry, but I'd rather try my luck on the road than in that bank.
-Andrew
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Noivian
Drinker of coffees
Skye fluttered around from tabletop to tabletop, stepping as best as he could around the bodily fluids on the ground, once again stressing the importance of his shoes. Those shoes, despite whatever monetary value they previously held, were still more valuable to him than his life. Right now, these shoes were the epitome of what he now considered post-apocalyptic living. Comfortable, durable, practical... it was everything a survivor like him could ever hope for. Three thousand dollars well spent. His wings fluffed up, Skye hopped around, coming to rest outside on the steps by the panda and the raccoon. He looked up and down the street, trying to recall what this place might have looked like before the outbreak.
Skye hadn't ever been to this side of town before, despite being born and raised in this city. It was more or less what he considered the lavish side, and his family never had any real money. Or rather, those he considered his family - after disowning his blood relatives - had no money. It looked rich and posh, compared to the slums he was used to at his uncle's house, and the streets he usually worked just outside the residential area, where all the high schoolers came to buy pot off him so he could make a living. The gun in his hands weighed heavy, thinking about the place his uncle used to live in. He would have murdered someone to have a weapon like this back in that day.
Back then, to have shoes like his was a sign of being well off for the ghetto... as well as a sign that the wearer was dangerous. They had connections, they had profits, and they were most definitely packing some kind of heat. Unfortunately, this got Skye into one too many firefights, where the only thing he had on him was his talons. Being a bird of prey, that's usually enough to scare off most adversaries, to constantly have your weapons on display. But still, there were a few occasions. Skye went for his right shoulder, fingers slipping under the fabric present and pressing lightly onto the scar tissue. Someone had tried to mug him on his way home from the store. The bastard got a lucky shot on his shoulder, and the impact Skye made with the ground almost cracked his beak. He winced slightly at the phantom pain the memory brought back.
But those days were long gone now. No more gunshot wounds, no more gang wars, no more drug trade... or so he hoped. In a sense, this apocalypse was wiping the slate clean for him. Hopefully the past would allow him to keep it clean...
Skye hadn't ever been to this side of town before, despite being born and raised in this city. It was more or less what he considered the lavish side, and his family never had any real money. Or rather, those he considered his family - after disowning his blood relatives - had no money. It looked rich and posh, compared to the slums he was used to at his uncle's house, and the streets he usually worked just outside the residential area, where all the high schoolers came to buy pot off him so he could make a living. The gun in his hands weighed heavy, thinking about the place his uncle used to live in. He would have murdered someone to have a weapon like this back in that day.
Back then, to have shoes like his was a sign of being well off for the ghetto... as well as a sign that the wearer was dangerous. They had connections, they had profits, and they were most definitely packing some kind of heat. Unfortunately, this got Skye into one too many firefights, where the only thing he had on him was his talons. Being a bird of prey, that's usually enough to scare off most adversaries, to constantly have your weapons on display. But still, there were a few occasions. Skye went for his right shoulder, fingers slipping under the fabric present and pressing lightly onto the scar tissue. Someone had tried to mug him on his way home from the store. The bastard got a lucky shot on his shoulder, and the impact Skye made with the ground almost cracked his beak. He winced slightly at the phantom pain the memory brought back.
But those days were long gone now. No more gunshot wounds, no more gang wars, no more drug trade... or so he hoped. In a sense, this apocalypse was wiping the slate clean for him. Hopefully the past would allow him to keep it clean...
Centari
Transcendent Plague Doctor
Paxon sighed and grimaced at the scent of burning flesh and concrete. He wished he could inhale another type of smoke at the moment but now wasn't the time. They weren't anywhere near safe and there wasn't anywhere safe nearby. He twisted his back while he sat, loud pops following afterwards. His aching body felt some relief and a tad more once he did the same to his neck and knuckles. Once more of the other survivors began filing out of the destroyed safe house, Paxon used his sledgehammer like a cane to push himself back to his feet. If they were going to get moving, Paxon was going to be ready but everyone apparently knew they had no idea where to go.
He didn't know where to start his search through the city, it felt like he had already checked every nook and cranny for Rudy but she still hadn't turned up. Where could she be... Naturally because of Paxon's calm demeanor it was difficult to tell whether he was paying attention or lost in thought, at the moment it was the latter. He nearly missed what George had asked him but at the mention of LSC a spark lit up in his eyes. Of course! She could've gone back to one of the other cities they lived in. "Yeah I've been there, lived there for a couple years actually." He mentioned casually, finishing off the bamboo shoot rather quickly. "If you're thinkin' we should head there that's not a bad idea. Sure it's cross country but its a safe bet, the people there are tough..." He grinned as old memories came to the forefront of her mind. Thugs and friends alike, those people were tougher than anyone else he knew anywhere else in the country but that fact might change given the situation he was in. The people around him were going to need to prove themselves to be rough and tumble to survive in the apocalypse. Everyone had to.
"Whuddya guys think? You guys wanna head over there?" He wasn't going to say it aloud but whether these guys were going or not wasn't changing Paxon's decision to go there, it was too important to him. "If we're gonna move we gotta move fast. Being out in the open for too long isn't a good idea..." He could hear the distant screams and groans of fresh fast and rotting slow undead alike.
He didn't know where to start his search through the city, it felt like he had already checked every nook and cranny for Rudy but she still hadn't turned up. Where could she be... Naturally because of Paxon's calm demeanor it was difficult to tell whether he was paying attention or lost in thought, at the moment it was the latter. He nearly missed what George had asked him but at the mention of LSC a spark lit up in his eyes. Of course! She could've gone back to one of the other cities they lived in. "Yeah I've been there, lived there for a couple years actually." He mentioned casually, finishing off the bamboo shoot rather quickly. "If you're thinkin' we should head there that's not a bad idea. Sure it's cross country but its a safe bet, the people there are tough..." He grinned as old memories came to the forefront of her mind. Thugs and friends alike, those people were tougher than anyone else he knew anywhere else in the country but that fact might change given the situation he was in. The people around him were going to need to prove themselves to be rough and tumble to survive in the apocalypse. Everyone had to.
"Whuddya guys think? You guys wanna head over there?" He wasn't going to say it aloud but whether these guys were going or not wasn't changing Paxon's decision to go there, it was too important to him. "If we're gonna move we gotta move fast. Being out in the open for too long isn't a good idea..." He could hear the distant screams and groans of fresh fast and rotting slow undead alike.
Raku
Four Thousand Club
After George had left the room, Adam said with an enlightend tone "Amen to that". He stood up and turned around to get his glasses. As he passed it Adam looked out the door to see the falcon jumping from tabletop to tabletop. Adam chuckled, "He must not want to get his feet wet". He knelt down to grab his glasses. "Good, not a scratch nor smudge" he said while looking over the lenses. Adam despised glasses when he was younger. He had to wear them because he couldn't stand contacts. Adam slid them on, "God, its been to long". Glasses were better than nothng, but he would rather have goggles. He does like these glasses because they were transition lenses, so they double up as sunglasses.
He made his way towards the door. The light from outside was blinding, but his eyes adjusted. He began to walk towards the doors outside, but stopped in front of Doug's corpse. "I got to give him some kind of goodbye", he said. Adam pulled out his knife and eched a cross in the wall above where Doug lied. Adam wasn't the least bit religious, but he felt that he needed to do something. So he got down onto his knees, and prayed. "Dear lord in heaven, may you accept this man into your kingdom above. He was a good man who died doing his job, serving and protecting his people. He put his life down to save us. And may you help us all. Amen." He looked at the officer before him, "Goodbye Doug" he said as he got up.
Adam started towards the door. The only noices he heard were the cracking of glass beneath his feet, the splashing of fluids as he stepped, and the voices of the others outside. In reality, he was walking at a slow pace, but in his mind he was in a dead sprint for the door. Wanting to get out of there as fast as he could. Adam exited the building onto the steps where the others were. He saw that they were looking at a note of some kind. He stepped down the stairs and knelt down. He turned the letter around to read it. "Little Sin City. My uncle lives there. Isn't that place some sort of safehaven?", he said as he stood back up. "If thats our next destination then we should get moving. But first things first, we need to find a place to stay tonight", Adam said as he looked up to see the sun low in the sky. He knew that they wouldn't survive the night at the bank. They needed to move fast. He could hear the unearving screams of the zeds that were moving in fast. Its gonna be a long night.
He made his way towards the door. The light from outside was blinding, but his eyes adjusted. He began to walk towards the doors outside, but stopped in front of Doug's corpse. "I got to give him some kind of goodbye", he said. Adam pulled out his knife and eched a cross in the wall above where Doug lied. Adam wasn't the least bit religious, but he felt that he needed to do something. So he got down onto his knees, and prayed. "Dear lord in heaven, may you accept this man into your kingdom above. He was a good man who died doing his job, serving and protecting his people. He put his life down to save us. And may you help us all. Amen." He looked at the officer before him, "Goodbye Doug" he said as he got up.
Adam started towards the door. The only noices he heard were the cracking of glass beneath his feet, the splashing of fluids as he stepped, and the voices of the others outside. In reality, he was walking at a slow pace, but in his mind he was in a dead sprint for the door. Wanting to get out of there as fast as he could. Adam exited the building onto the steps where the others were. He saw that they were looking at a note of some kind. He stepped down the stairs and knelt down. He turned the letter around to read it. "Little Sin City. My uncle lives there. Isn't that place some sort of safehaven?", he said as he stood back up. "If thats our next destination then we should get moving. But first things first, we need to find a place to stay tonight", Adam said as he looked up to see the sun low in the sky. He knew that they wouldn't survive the night at the bank. They needed to move fast. He could hear the unearving screams of the zeds that were moving in fast. Its gonna be a long night.
GoldenHeartedGhoul
Generally Generous Undead
George hadn't bothered to get up yet. She had been staring at the ground between her feet, briefly wondering if her college was still standing. Eventually, she looked upwards. The sky was streaked with red - but not by sunlight. The fire that had been tearing through some building was finally reaching high enough to be a burning bastion in the city. It was still dark outside, not four hours after midnight... After all, the safe house had been rushed late at night.
George sighed and tapped her foot against the marble steps. Ten bucks says Feathers has got a relative in LSC, too, she murmurs in the recesses of her mind. I'll be the odd one out, maybe. No family to speak of. For whatever reason, George took some solace knowing she didn't have a family to worry about in the current fashions of the world. It'd be too much pressure, she thought. The less she had to worry about, supposedly the better. Somewhere inside her knew that way of thinking was wrong, and she certainly regretted it... But then again, it helped her cope. She was able to, though briefly, picture herself as some grit machete slashing, gunslinger. She could disassociate from herself for a moment to make it easier to keep living!
She finally stood up an rolled her shoulders. "I'm with the big guy," she says with a firm, single nod. "I think our best bet, right now, would be gettin' a set of wheels and running over anything that tries to stop us." George then crosses her arms in thought. She wasn't exactly a gearhead, but she knew her way around an engine block well enough to keep a junker running on duct tape, bubble gum, and hope. "Something big enough for all'a us," she says, especially taking note of how... Healthy Paxon was. Still, she continued on, pressing a finger to her chin in thought. "And sturdy enough to not fall apart like a hunk of shit..." She chuckles at that, before shaking her head. "Man, I'd kill for a military humvee, you feel me?"
George eventually stows her machete and stuffs her hands in her hoodie-pouch. It was a size too big for comfort reasons. On an unrelated note, it also functioned as a blanket, and or pillow, on some occasions. "Buuut... I'm willing to bet my old Professor's SUV is still parked in the staff-only square back at my college." She settles down, feeling some small surge of confidence as she gave the group some sense of direction. Maybe even hope? If they didn't have any better ideas... They're running on the hope of a dead man's car.
George sighed and tapped her foot against the marble steps. Ten bucks says Feathers has got a relative in LSC, too, she murmurs in the recesses of her mind. I'll be the odd one out, maybe. No family to speak of. For whatever reason, George took some solace knowing she didn't have a family to worry about in the current fashions of the world. It'd be too much pressure, she thought. The less she had to worry about, supposedly the better. Somewhere inside her knew that way of thinking was wrong, and she certainly regretted it... But then again, it helped her cope. She was able to, though briefly, picture herself as some grit machete slashing, gunslinger. She could disassociate from herself for a moment to make it easier to keep living!
She finally stood up an rolled her shoulders. "I'm with the big guy," she says with a firm, single nod. "I think our best bet, right now, would be gettin' a set of wheels and running over anything that tries to stop us." George then crosses her arms in thought. She wasn't exactly a gearhead, but she knew her way around an engine block well enough to keep a junker running on duct tape, bubble gum, and hope. "Something big enough for all'a us," she says, especially taking note of how... Healthy Paxon was. Still, she continued on, pressing a finger to her chin in thought. "And sturdy enough to not fall apart like a hunk of shit..." She chuckles at that, before shaking her head. "Man, I'd kill for a military humvee, you feel me?"
George eventually stows her machete and stuffs her hands in her hoodie-pouch. It was a size too big for comfort reasons. On an unrelated note, it also functioned as a blanket, and or pillow, on some occasions. "Buuut... I'm willing to bet my old Professor's SUV is still parked in the staff-only square back at my college." She settles down, feeling some small surge of confidence as she gave the group some sense of direction. Maybe even hope? If they didn't have any better ideas... They're running on the hope of a dead man's car.
Noivian
Drinker of coffees
Skye snapped back to reality when the others talked of moving from where they had been holed up for the past week. Part of Skye felt wrong, that he would abandon the bank after the deadly nights it had gotten him through, but the logical side of him knew that staying in a ransacked and rotting building, especially one that was now this close to a fire, was a tremendously bad idea. He took a glance back into the bank, spotting the cross above Doug's head, and pressed his beak together. The symbol unnerved him. Skye had never been the religious type, and that certainly wasn't changing anytime soon. With how the world was today, even if there had been a God, He was dead in Skye's eyes. The world was falling to shit, and to hold onto such beliefs that weren't backed up with gun, knife, and claw was a foolish thought. Thinking like that would get one killed in a world like this.
As such, Skye came to realize that holding onto foolish sentimentals like the bank or Doug or the concept of family was also going to get him killed. It was every man for themselves now, and despite the fact that they were more safe in numbers, in life or death situations, Skye would always favor his survival above all else. That was how it was on the street for him, and that was how it was going to be from now on. "LSC sounds like a good plan," Skye commented. "I've never been before. It'd be interesting to see, in the least, despite probably being in no better condition than here is..." his voice trailed off as the raccoon continued with her plan. Skye nodded in agreement when she finished. "I can hotwire it for us so we don't need to go looking for the keys. Might sound the alarm, but it's faster than hunting for a corpse that may or may not be running frantically around the city.
Looking up the street, where the sounds of approaching undead were coming from, Skye frowned again and spread his wings. "Perhaps I should scout ahead, look for any blocked off streets or hoards of zombies. Which way are we going to go?" Skye asked, looking to George. It was pretty clear at this point who the leader was going to be, and it was between Paxon's stubbornness and George's practicality. Skye huffed internally, seemingly disappointed, but it was better that he didn't have a leadership role. Having other people's lives in his hands was not something Skye wanted, nor was it a pressure he could take at this point.
As such, Skye came to realize that holding onto foolish sentimentals like the bank or Doug or the concept of family was also going to get him killed. It was every man for themselves now, and despite the fact that they were more safe in numbers, in life or death situations, Skye would always favor his survival above all else. That was how it was on the street for him, and that was how it was going to be from now on. "LSC sounds like a good plan," Skye commented. "I've never been before. It'd be interesting to see, in the least, despite probably being in no better condition than here is..." his voice trailed off as the raccoon continued with her plan. Skye nodded in agreement when she finished. "I can hotwire it for us so we don't need to go looking for the keys. Might sound the alarm, but it's faster than hunting for a corpse that may or may not be running frantically around the city.
Looking up the street, where the sounds of approaching undead were coming from, Skye frowned again and spread his wings. "Perhaps I should scout ahead, look for any blocked off streets or hoards of zombies. Which way are we going to go?" Skye asked, looking to George. It was pretty clear at this point who the leader was going to be, and it was between Paxon's stubbornness and George's practicality. Skye huffed internally, seemingly disappointed, but it was better that he didn't have a leadership role. Having other people's lives in his hands was not something Skye wanted, nor was it a pressure he could take at this point.
Centari
Transcendent Plague Doctor
The fat panda nodded to George. "Mhm... A big 'ol truck would do us some good." He added with a small chuckle. "Although I wouldn't be against just hoofin' it there. Get some of these pounds offa me." He joked, Paxon loved fat jokes. Whether they were insults or a friend was just joshing with him, he loved it, always made him laugh no matter how insulting it was. "Well, no use just standin' around. Let's getta move on."
Paxon didn't say anything more instead he began stepping down the large steps that led up to the bank. But naturally giving both George and Skye a hardy pat on the back before doing so. He pulled yet another small bamboo shoot from his pocket and stuck it between his lips. After he reached the bottom of the steps Paxon turned the corner and expected everyone else to follow. So what if George used to attend the college? No one was more willing to scrape pennies together to buy a bag of weed than desperate college students. It was one of the many places Paxon stood around to sell his product and he knew where it was from here.
He took steps in the westward direction, brandishing his sledgehammer by letting it dangle by his side as he walked. The sledgehammer he used to kill too many people both undead and alive. He had no tolerance for people who hurt others to thrive and when such people attempted to harm him he had used his hammer as a tool to punish them. Paxon has given countless people cracked skulls, countless only because Paxon was way too lazy to count. He turned a corner, heading further down the street westward as the sun just peeked over the horizon and began illuminating the sky, the whole day was ahead of them.
Paxon didn't say anything more instead he began stepping down the large steps that led up to the bank. But naturally giving both George and Skye a hardy pat on the back before doing so. He pulled yet another small bamboo shoot from his pocket and stuck it between his lips. After he reached the bottom of the steps Paxon turned the corner and expected everyone else to follow. So what if George used to attend the college? No one was more willing to scrape pennies together to buy a bag of weed than desperate college students. It was one of the many places Paxon stood around to sell his product and he knew where it was from here.
He took steps in the westward direction, brandishing his sledgehammer by letting it dangle by his side as he walked. The sledgehammer he used to kill too many people both undead and alive. He had no tolerance for people who hurt others to thrive and when such people attempted to harm him he had used his hammer as a tool to punish them. Paxon has given countless people cracked skulls, countless only because Paxon was way too lazy to count. He turned a corner, heading further down the street westward as the sun just peeked over the horizon and began illuminating the sky, the whole day was ahead of them.
Raku
Four Thousand Club
While George was going on about getting a vehicle he remembered something, his truck was still at the parking garage. I was a decent sized pickup with a big bed. But then another thing came to mind. If his truck wasn't there they were gonna need something. Adam wasn't a professional mechanic but he was good. His father ran one in his home town. When she mentioned a Humvee though his eyes opened a bit more. "Oh you have no idea how fun it is to be in one of those things. Especially one with a gun", Adam said with a few chuckles and a smile on his face. "Its been way to long since I've been in a Humvee". Adam looked around, the light of day was coming. Reveling some nasty things but was a good thing. They wern't traveling blind.
Adam was looking up when George had said somthing about her professor's SUV still at her campus. He had hope in both locations a vehicle, but was not about to go hunting for a probability. "What college did you go to? My truck is in a parking garage not to far from some campus" He said looking at George. "If your teachers car isn't there then we could stop to check my garage. And if we make it out of the city with it we could stop at my parents house to grab some fuel. Hope my dad didn't take it all" He said with a slightly enthusiastic tone. They had a plan, all they needed was to set it in motion.
Paxon, makeing a quick move to lead like before. As he started down the stairs Adam began to follow. "We'll talk on the way" he said while walking down the steps. He stopped and turned to say "And it would be a good thing if you did scout ahed to make sure we down run into trouble. I would do it, but I can't fly". He turned back and started down the stairs again, praying
they would find a car fast.
Adam was looking up when George had said somthing about her professor's SUV still at her campus. He had hope in both locations a vehicle, but was not about to go hunting for a probability. "What college did you go to? My truck is in a parking garage not to far from some campus" He said looking at George. "If your teachers car isn't there then we could stop to check my garage. And if we make it out of the city with it we could stop at my parents house to grab some fuel. Hope my dad didn't take it all" He said with a slightly enthusiastic tone. They had a plan, all they needed was to set it in motion.
Paxon, makeing a quick move to lead like before. As he started down the stairs Adam began to follow. "We'll talk on the way" he said while walking down the steps. He stopped and turned to say "And it would be a good thing if you did scout ahed to make sure we down run into trouble. I would do it, but I can't fly". He turned back and started down the stairs again, praying
they would find a car fast.
GoldenHeartedGhoul
Generally Generous Undead
George clapped her hands together and clasped them. "Great," she murmured, trailing after Paxon. If he wanted to take the reigns and lead them, she wasn't going to object. Someone had to bear their banner and march on, after all! So, George fell in step with the Panda while minding the bits of carnage that began littering the sidewalk. That is, the drying blood, bits of fur, and other unknown fluids that seemed to stick to most surfaces nowadays...
Still, she did have something to say to Skye. She hardly knew him, but his safety did concern her. "For one," she said, motioning for Skye to keep up. "I'd rather not hotwire a car. It can really screw up a car's electrical stuff, y'know?" She gave a light, though uncommitted smile. "Secondly, I'm not saying I don't trust you, but I really don't like the odds of runnin', or flyin', on your own." Again, she smiled, but her eyebrows curved upwards. She didn't want to make him think she didn't trust him... Not to say that she did, but she did feel that sticking together would better their survival.
She didn't say anymore, but she did leave Skye with a gentle pat on the shoulder. She was scared again, but she gave Skye a nod before continuing forward. It was going to be an awful, bloody morning, but they had no other option now.
The group would continue their march for some few blocks until the sight of the college came into view some distance away. Naturally, the streets were clogged with wrecks and abandoned cars. The long running fence that stood around the college campus still held itself proudly despite years of weather bearing down upon it. Not even the raving dead could bring down the wrought iron bars that made up the entirety of the surrounding fence. The campus held a number of buildings within the fencing, but a tall bell tower rose high above the rooftops of the others. Perhaps to some, it was a sign of hope. To others, in a time prior, it told them when to go to their classes.
Unbeknownst to the group, a young, rather prejudiced man had seated himself in that tower. For whatever reason, he'd taken it upon himself... To rain hell on other anthro-animals that had made their way by the college. This would become more evident by the corpses left closer to the entrance of the college. It would be hard to discern whether the bodies were that of undead or not, given the current state of time.
Still, she did have something to say to Skye. She hardly knew him, but his safety did concern her. "For one," she said, motioning for Skye to keep up. "I'd rather not hotwire a car. It can really screw up a car's electrical stuff, y'know?" She gave a light, though uncommitted smile. "Secondly, I'm not saying I don't trust you, but I really don't like the odds of runnin', or flyin', on your own." Again, she smiled, but her eyebrows curved upwards. She didn't want to make him think she didn't trust him... Not to say that she did, but she did feel that sticking together would better their survival.
She didn't say anymore, but she did leave Skye with a gentle pat on the shoulder. She was scared again, but she gave Skye a nod before continuing forward. It was going to be an awful, bloody morning, but they had no other option now.
The group would continue their march for some few blocks until the sight of the college came into view some distance away. Naturally, the streets were clogged with wrecks and abandoned cars. The long running fence that stood around the college campus still held itself proudly despite years of weather bearing down upon it. Not even the raving dead could bring down the wrought iron bars that made up the entirety of the surrounding fence. The campus held a number of buildings within the fencing, but a tall bell tower rose high above the rooftops of the others. Perhaps to some, it was a sign of hope. To others, in a time prior, it told them when to go to their classes.
Unbeknownst to the group, a young, rather prejudiced man had seated himself in that tower. For whatever reason, he'd taken it upon himself... To rain hell on other anthro-animals that had made their way by the college. This would become more evident by the corpses left closer to the entrance of the college. It would be hard to discern whether the bodies were that of undead or not, given the current state of time.
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Noivian
Drinker of coffees
Skye spread his wings at the fox's words, but hesitated when the raccoon motioned for him to follow. Collapsing the feathers against his arms again, he folded his tail feathers and followed after George. She had a point, he realized. Spitting up made it more likely they could be picked off one by one. "Well, if we can't fly alone, then I'm effectively grounded," he stated under his breath. The pat on his shoulder didn't help much, and Skye did his best not to shrink away from the touch. It's best not to be too involved or attached to a group... recent events made it too plain how quickly people could be killed off these days.
Readying his pistol, he followed along behind the group, keeping his focus behind them so as they couldn't be snuck up on by any fresh undead...
Readying his pistol, he followed along behind the group, keeping his focus behind them so as they couldn't be snuck up on by any fresh undead...
Centari
Transcendent Plague Doctor
"Mhm... She's right." Paxon mentioned. "Hotwirin' can not only get yourself electrocuted but you can get the car busted entirely." He spoke from personal experience. His past business left him with quite the long list of crimes and sins on his hands. His ears turned back toward the others who continued to converse, somewhat interested he decided to contribute a bit more. "Better grounded than dead, I'd say..." Paxon commented as he stepped over some rubble. He took a deep breath and stopped talking, he'd need to focus on moving for now.
Turning corner after corner, taking step after step, Paxon trudged on. Wasn't exactly the longest trek from the bank to the college but Paxon wasn't exactly the most fit person. His breath came out in struggled gasps once the college came into view. He felt like he was walking uphill...well that's because they were but the point was his legs ached and he felt exhausted already. The only reason he had survived this far was because he was strong and resourceful as he was fat. Out of food? Grass can make well enough of a meal if you're really that desperate. Cornered by undead? Better keep swinging until you're on the other side. Someone waving their gun around and trying to rob you? Walk right past them. Works more often than you'd think.
Finally he passed through the wrought iron gate to the college campus. He didn't get anymore than two steps into the campus before a loud Bang! rang out from the bell tower. A bullet streaked through the air and barely grazed the edge of Paxon's bamboo shoot, splitting it in half and leaving the end smoking. Paxon was left with half-lidded eyes and not amused. He let the smoking bamboo shoot drop from his lips as he drew another one from his back pocket and bit down on it. His jaw clenched hard, he ground his teeth and shouted in a booming and bellowing voice. "Take cover!" He aggressively grabbed the closest person to him, who happened to be Skye. He stomped forward and moved as fast as he could to cover. The closest thing he could get to was a crashed car, Paxon shoved Skye forward before diving behind it himself. Another shot boomed from the tower and a bullet pierced the chassis of the car. Paxon knew what he was doing, sure he didn't have military experience but he had been in enough gang fights to know the rule was take cover or die. Sure the sniper's last shot was toward Paxon and Skye but that didn't mean he was going to stay focused on them for long, there were two others standing out in the open, practically begging to be shot at.
Turning corner after corner, taking step after step, Paxon trudged on. Wasn't exactly the longest trek from the bank to the college but Paxon wasn't exactly the most fit person. His breath came out in struggled gasps once the college came into view. He felt like he was walking uphill...well that's because they were but the point was his legs ached and he felt exhausted already. The only reason he had survived this far was because he was strong and resourceful as he was fat. Out of food? Grass can make well enough of a meal if you're really that desperate. Cornered by undead? Better keep swinging until you're on the other side. Someone waving their gun around and trying to rob you? Walk right past them. Works more often than you'd think.
Finally he passed through the wrought iron gate to the college campus. He didn't get anymore than two steps into the campus before a loud Bang! rang out from the bell tower. A bullet streaked through the air and barely grazed the edge of Paxon's bamboo shoot, splitting it in half and leaving the end smoking. Paxon was left with half-lidded eyes and not amused. He let the smoking bamboo shoot drop from his lips as he drew another one from his back pocket and bit down on it. His jaw clenched hard, he ground his teeth and shouted in a booming and bellowing voice. "Take cover!" He aggressively grabbed the closest person to him, who happened to be Skye. He stomped forward and moved as fast as he could to cover. The closest thing he could get to was a crashed car, Paxon shoved Skye forward before diving behind it himself. Another shot boomed from the tower and a bullet pierced the chassis of the car. Paxon knew what he was doing, sure he didn't have military experience but he had been in enough gang fights to know the rule was take cover or die. Sure the sniper's last shot was toward Paxon and Skye but that didn't mean he was going to stay focused on them for long, there were two others standing out in the open, practically begging to be shot at.
Raku
Four Thousand Club
The walk to the campus wasn't the longest walk Adam has done. Not by a longshot. He looked up to a building "What the hell happened here?", he said pointing to a large hole in the siding of the building. Adam then looked down a little, not to see just concrete, vomit, and blood, but corpses. The corpses were of infected and not. "Something isn't right here", he said while pulling up his mask. When Adam pulls up his mask, he believes something is about to go down. He had delt with many senarios before. He started looking for potential sniping positions. One place stood out to him, it was the bell tower. "I hope this doesn't go the way I'm thinking" He said.
They were aproaching the campus gates. The college looked suprisingly better than he thought. "Welp, were --" Adam said before being cut off but the loud crack of a gun. Looking foward he saw where the bullet hit. It went right through Paxon's bamboo and nearly hit Adam in the foot. "Sniper!" he yelled loudly as he dove for for cover. The cover he took was just a pile of rubble. He heard a second shot followed by a clang. The gunner was fixed on Paxon and Skye for now, but Adam knew it wouldn't be long until he selected a new target. Adam grabbed his pistol and leaned over till he had a shot at the tower. He fired a few rounds at it, hoping the sniper would return fire at him so George could get to cover as well. His shots were answered quick. A bullet slammed into the concrete just above Adam causing some dust to fall onto him. "Oh great! Its Operation Hilltop all over again" Adam said with a frustrated tone. "Hes using a bolt action rifle. The time gap between those shots were to long to be a semi-auto" he said loudly. "I can hit this guy if I had a rifle. All I'd need is for someone to draw his fire", Adam said, believing eveyone heard him. Adam knew what would happen if they didn't react quick. All the gunfire would surely drawn the attention of a hoard.
They were aproaching the campus gates. The college looked suprisingly better than he thought. "Welp, were --" Adam said before being cut off but the loud crack of a gun. Looking foward he saw where the bullet hit. It went right through Paxon's bamboo and nearly hit Adam in the foot. "Sniper!" he yelled loudly as he dove for for cover. The cover he took was just a pile of rubble. He heard a second shot followed by a clang. The gunner was fixed on Paxon and Skye for now, but Adam knew it wouldn't be long until he selected a new target. Adam grabbed his pistol and leaned over till he had a shot at the tower. He fired a few rounds at it, hoping the sniper would return fire at him so George could get to cover as well. His shots were answered quick. A bullet slammed into the concrete just above Adam causing some dust to fall onto him. "Oh great! Its Operation Hilltop all over again" Adam said with a frustrated tone. "Hes using a bolt action rifle. The time gap between those shots were to long to be a semi-auto" he said loudly. "I can hit this guy if I had a rifle. All I'd need is for someone to draw his fire", Adam said, believing eveyone heard him. Adam knew what would happen if they didn't react quick. All the gunfire would surely drawn the attention of a hoard.
GoldenHeartedGhoul
Generally Generous Undead
By the time the first bullet pierced the eerie silence, George nearly screamed. Among the survivors splitting for cover, she'd jumped off to the right, nigh cowering behind one of the large brick pillars making up the entryway to the college campus. After an ear piercing shot clanged against the wrecked car, George flinched and froze behind the pillar. Adam had been yelling something, but it was so distant to her. The only thing she heard clearly was the thumping of her heart against her ribs. She was taking shallow breaths, and had cupped her hands over her ears. She felt like screaming, but her voice failed to find her throat.
Only when a bullet cracked the corner of the pillar she'd been behind did George fall back into the reality of the situation with a muffled gasp. Her hand bolted down to her hip and drew the revolver from her waistband. The hammer clicked by her thumb, and she held her breath. Some few seconds ticked on, and her breath holding turned into lip biting. The taste of iron hit her tongue and she clambered up against her cover. One palm rested against it, the other clutching her revolver at waist-level. One. She counted in her head. Two. She gripped the side of the pillar, the grit of the bricks biting her fingertips. Three! She felt her legs tense up, but she failed to lurch forward.
"Fuck me," she muttered quietly before hitting the side of her fist against the pillar. She shook her head hard, before starting the countdown in her head once more... But by the time she hit three, she couldn't muster the courage to force herself into the line of fire. The report of a rifle and a split second of failure could lead to George's untimely demise. In that moment of doubt, she wondered if being shot would be a slow death... Or if she'd suffer a fatal shot to a head. It was another deterrent to her doubtful advance.
George groaned and nearly shouted in frustration before glancing towards the car Paxon and Skye had ducked behind. "Fuck it!" George finally shouted before, gripping the corner and threw herself around it. "YOLO!" Her footfalls were hard against the brick-lain path towards into the campus. She ran in what she hoped to be in some unpredictable manner. She didn't zig-zag. She zig-zag-boopity-bopped.
Her efforts, reckless as they were, did have the intended effect of drawing the belltower sniper's attention. Just as George would turn and run in another direction, he fired at her. Concrete and brick alike erupted by the sniper's fire. Where he thought she was going to step, was pounded with fire. What was more concerning was how quickly the shots had started raining down. He'd been taking his time with his shots to begin with. Now, perhaps he was panicking? The time between shots was much faster. Too fast for a bolt action rifle.
None of that concerned George, of course. She'd managed to make it halfway towards the belltower before taking cover behind one of the high rising dorm complexes. She was in relative 'safety', but the horde of undead would surely be on the campus grounds in a manner of minutes.
Only when a bullet cracked the corner of the pillar she'd been behind did George fall back into the reality of the situation with a muffled gasp. Her hand bolted down to her hip and drew the revolver from her waistband. The hammer clicked by her thumb, and she held her breath. Some few seconds ticked on, and her breath holding turned into lip biting. The taste of iron hit her tongue and she clambered up against her cover. One palm rested against it, the other clutching her revolver at waist-level. One. She counted in her head. Two. She gripped the side of the pillar, the grit of the bricks biting her fingertips. Three! She felt her legs tense up, but she failed to lurch forward.
"Fuck me," she muttered quietly before hitting the side of her fist against the pillar. She shook her head hard, before starting the countdown in her head once more... But by the time she hit three, she couldn't muster the courage to force herself into the line of fire. The report of a rifle and a split second of failure could lead to George's untimely demise. In that moment of doubt, she wondered if being shot would be a slow death... Or if she'd suffer a fatal shot to a head. It was another deterrent to her doubtful advance.
George groaned and nearly shouted in frustration before glancing towards the car Paxon and Skye had ducked behind. "Fuck it!" George finally shouted before, gripping the corner and threw herself around it. "YOLO!" Her footfalls were hard against the brick-lain path towards into the campus. She ran in what she hoped to be in some unpredictable manner. She didn't zig-zag. She zig-zag-boopity-bopped.
Her efforts, reckless as they were, did have the intended effect of drawing the belltower sniper's attention. Just as George would turn and run in another direction, he fired at her. Concrete and brick alike erupted by the sniper's fire. Where he thought she was going to step, was pounded with fire. What was more concerning was how quickly the shots had started raining down. He'd been taking his time with his shots to begin with. Now, perhaps he was panicking? The time between shots was much faster. Too fast for a bolt action rifle.
None of that concerned George, of course. She'd managed to make it halfway towards the belltower before taking cover behind one of the high rising dorm complexes. She was in relative 'safety', but the horde of undead would surely be on the campus grounds in a manner of minutes.