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Post by Indeh on Nov 29, 2009 19:51:05 GMT -8
The wind gave another deafening shriek as it weaved its way around the leveled skyscrapers. A mighty tornado of dust blew by, nearly knocking the blonde-haired southerner off his feet. He stumbled, steadying himself against a nearby wall. He didn't know it, but he'd been walking around the same block for several days now, constantly finding himself in the company of all sorts of conjuring's of his delusional mind.
Ross blinked, squinting at the sparkling pink mare as it gave a sharp whinny and trotted away, leaving him to his thoughts once more. He shrugged slightly, unphased by the appearance. He'd seen a monkey driving a motorcycle, aliens playing in a toy store and several leprechauns in the last few hours, and questioned none of it.
Aw, good thing all them unicorns are still alive.
...
Wait. There ain't no such thing as unicorns.
The boy slumped over with a frown, battered form racked with shudders as he tried to keep his mind from letting him slip into blissful oblivion. Oh, but did that ever sound like a dandy plan, just laying down to die until the crawlers got him. He'd come too far to turn into a big pile of zombie lunchmeat in the road. He had too much to live for, too much zombie ass to kick. More importantly, he had people to live for, two very specific people. With every bit of his soul, he thought his two younger sisters were waiting for him somewhere in the city, and he pathetically clung to that trace of hope like a lifeline. Despite the fact he'd been milling the exact same city for over two weeks, there was still no sign of a single living being. Every so often he'd come across a wall with it's surface splattered in crimson, but turned a blind eye, as if imagining the worst possible scenario for one moment would cause him a loss of what sanity remained in his fragile head. He had exactly zero to live for if he didn't still have the hope that all his companions had made their way out of the city alive, that they had not been ripped limb from limb by the undead. No, of course they hadn't been. They were smart; if he was still alive, surely they were too.
He missed everything about what used to be. He missed the Louisiana summers and his family and all the horses in the stable. He missed the smell of eggs and toast, though he could hardly recall the taste. He missed the old swing set in his backyard and getting chased by his neighbors dog and building tree houses and playing tag after sundown. He even missed that psychotic old geezer that he had been working for previous to the infection.
What had merely been a year had been spent fighting through hell, and with it took several people that he'd cared deeply for, people he thought would still be at his side now as he looked for someone, anyone in the broken cityscape.
Oh, there was a friendly looking fellow. Sure he was missing an arm and all, but maybe he knew the directions to a decent shelter, or a food storage that wasn't totaled. He paused, pushing himself up onto his knees as he cast a weary eye back at the blurry form.
Naw wait, that there is a zombie.
Frowning, he attempted to pull himself up again, only to be shoved back down. Rolling sideways, he locked eyes with his assailant which was... oh hell, a zombie. The corpse simply stared at him blankly, before lunging at him with reddened teeth bared. Letting out a rather un-manly squeak of surprise, he managed to protect himself by shoving his foot into the zombie's abdomen, causing it to recoil and hiss with fury.
"S-shit shitshitshitshitt shittt," he slurred, staggering to his feet and sprinting off in the opposite direction. Blackness clouded the edges of his vision, making his maneuvering clumsy and difficult. Movements wobbly and uneven, he was rather easily caught up to by the hoard. A chorus of gurgling and hissing grew into a harsh roar behind him, indicating just how imminent his death would be.
The boy ducked and rolled rather painfully across the cement as he felt claws raking at his back. Almost as soon as he landed, he was up again, sprinting blindly down the street like a bat out of hell. Everything around him was one big blurry water painting, as if he was moving through a cloud of thick smog. And it felt like he was making no progress, moving nowhere. Oh yeah, he wasn't. Pushing himself roughly off the wall, he simply barreled through the group, eventually getting grabbed and pried back in to meet the flailing claws of his foes. He could feel his own heartbeat thrumming frantically in his ears, thundering away like a war drum as he attempted to shove his way out of the group. "Get the fuck out of my way, you sonova-" His threat was cut short as a single zombie knocked him to the ground, and so began the epic battle to not get eaten by the chick missing her ear.
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Post by βolt. on Nov 29, 2009 21:46:55 GMT -8
Evan Fenley Level One Scavenger Oh greeeeeeat. This was fuuuuuuun. Out in the middle of nowhere, scavenging for supplies. Supplies that were dispersed throughout the streets that just happened to be zombie infested. Oh yeah, nothing quite like risking one's own life for a bunch of strangers back at the Fort. He sighed and grumbled quietly, "This is bullshit."The man had arrived to the desolate town with two others; the big boss of the fort and a medic named Se- something. The three were looking for supplies as usual, and made sure to stay relatively close to one another. Though the streets seemed oddly barren of the flesh-eating bastards for once, so Evan was much more slack than usual. As the group came to an alley in search of something to take back to the Fort Evan split away from them. Or rather, he turned down the narrow path without notifying the others, as he was convinced no harm would come to him. He didn't know if the other two would follow, and he really didn't care. To be honest he really didn't look like much of a Scavenger, with his pretty white suit and neatly gelled hair. He looked more like a man of business. Though there was a sleazy air about him that even he had trouble denying. In the breast pocket of his suit there was a pair of blue aviator sunglasses, on his hip hung a crowbar, and on his back he had a backpack, which changed his appearance into something more like a businessman going back to elementary school. That, he did not enjoy. It was in the job description though, so he bit the insides of his cheeks in annoyance at the thought and continued on at a calm pace. He really should have been paying attention to where he was going and how far he was from the others, but he really didn't care much when there were absolutely no zombies- His pace faltered and his breath caught in his throat, "Oh, there they are."As Evan exited the alley and rounded a corner the scene of a small hoard gathering around something came into view. The disgusting creatures were huddling around one particular spot, which made the man raise a brow curiously. Zombies didn't attack anything other than those with living flesh on their bones, right? Surely there were no other survivors after all this time! So, curiously, he crept closer, slipping the crowbar out of his belt to use as a weapon. However one of the shitheads heard him coming, instantly turning to lunge. So apparently getting anywhere near a feasting hoard was a bad idea. Well, it was too late now, and Evan soon found himself smacking the shaft of his metal weapon against the zombie's mouth, cracking its teeth and sending pieces everywhere. Oh, and the force of the smack twisted the thing's neck around with a snap- knocking the asshole off balance. That gave Evan a delightful chance to smack its skull, breaking it and sending cerebral fluids in every which direction... including his suit. Great. Well, at least zombies were fragile. With the first zombie down he looked up to see some of the vicious group taking more interest in him, deciding the change targets. It was then he took notice of the Medic's presents. Well... he couldn't just run for his own life now, could he? With a sigh he readied himself and advanced aggressively on the hoard, intending to kill every single one of the bastards. "I could use some help here, Medic." He called back to him, noting the fact he was doing nothing to help. He was quite surprised with himself really. Maybe as a Scavenger he had a natural tendency to check out any item that might be useful? If there really was something other than living flesh that attracted zombies then the Fort could really use it. So there he was, kicking, punching, and smashing the undead one at a time. Most of them had turned on him at that point, gurgling and sputtering their gross undead juices at his face and reaching for his eyes. "Yuck!" He backed away a few paces, swinging his crowbar violently at each and every discolored head. "When. You. Died. Why. Couldn't. You. Just. Stay. Dead!?" He growled out a word with every attack, finding that some skulls needed more than one hit to shatter. He majorly hated the damn things right then. Then, finally, as the second to last of the creature crumpled to the road, head leaking freely, he advanced on the final zombie. This one was female, and an ugly little whore too. Though Evan felt a mix of shock and disappointment when he found she was after another human. So it wasn't something the Fort could use against their foes... With a disgusted, blood-covered expression he swung his crowbar not unlike a golf club, digging the slightly pointer part of it into her temple. She froze in her movements and toppled on top of the guy she had been trying to eat, so Evan lazily kicked her off and peered down and the younger male. "Hey. Ya still alive?" He gave his arm a gentle nudge with one of his feet and crouched down to look more closely. "Medic... I think this one's breathing."Word Count: 904 Total Money: $904 Total Experience: 479 Comments: N/A
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Post by Indeh on Nov 29, 2009 22:34:44 GMT -8
The feisty bitch of a zombie on top of him was practically making ribbons of his arm, latching her claws onto the already scarred skin and digging away new glittering red cuts. The boy let out a yowl of pain, using both arms and legs to hold the drooling zombie away from his face. Infuriated at being separated from her prey, she lunged again, the edge of her overgrown fingernails grazing his freckled cheek and drawing a paper-thin line of crimson. She smiled at him smiled, like they were in some horror movie, before she hissed eerily and aimed to take a chunk out of his shoulder with a swoop of her long daggers. He'd expected pain, some kind of horrible agony that would mark the quick end to his life. Where was the god damned pain?
His eyes squeezed shut as a sickening crunch resounded. His breathing hitched, wondering whether it was his own skull that had been crushed, or the zombie's. Peeking out through one eye nervously, he watched the zombie's face change to a mask of shock as it simply froze in its attack, slumping over on him. He paused, mouth agape but unable to make words. He let out something of a whine, struggling under the weight of the zombie whilst being terrified of the fact the zombie's lifeless face was just inches from his own. Panicking slightly, he let his gaze drift from the zombie to the person he now realized was standing over him. The weight shifted off him, and he took in a deep breath. Oh good, someone had saved his ass.
The boy's viridian eyes narrowed, as though he couldn't quite keep focus on things. "Oh h-hey there, sir," he paused, suddenly swept up in a coughing fit before returning his foggy gaze to the older man crouching near him. The person he was looking at appeared to be wearing some sort of fancy suit, though it was tainted with a smattering of red speckles. He didn't like the sort of man that ran around busting zombie faces all day. But he wasn't going to question it, he'd just been saved by that suave son-of-a-gun. He had nothing to complain about whatsoever. "I'm... dandy, thanks," he rasped, struggling to pull himself up. He hadn't even caught the part about the Medic; he was simply pleased not to be zombie-chow.
Ross blinked, now curious as to who his saviour even was. "M'name's Ross," he paused again, rolling over and holding his abdomen as a slightly pained expression captured his features. "Thanks 'fer savin' me and all. S'a pity your purdy suit got wrecked," he intoned with a cracked smile, shaking noticeably as he managed himself into a crouching position. "I'd prob'ly be dead if you didn't show u-up," his words grew somewhat unintelligible as he erupted in coughs again. A few lonely drops of blood splattered the pavement to join the others. "I think I jus' need some bandages or something... N'then I'll be good to go, y'know?" He looked up at his apparent rescuer, grinning stupidly despite the situation.
On the contrary, he wasn't "good to go". Besides the various scratches and injuries he had sustained in the past week, he now had an extra layer of souvenirs to add to the collection, mostly cluttered on his arms and in the open places where claws had sliced his plaid-patterned shirt. He'd done some makeshift work in attempt to heal his previous wounds, but most were soaked through with blood, and therefore left to hang uselessly off him.
"Gotta... find 'em, they was s-somewhere near them unicorns, I swear it--" The yellow-haired boy stumbled into the man accidentally, casting him an apologetic look as he attempted to re-steady himself. "My apologies, sir," he trailed off, before losing his balance and falling.
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Post by xαяку on Nov 29, 2009 22:44:32 GMT -8
Well this really was inconvenient. He strode quickly, jumping at the slightest of movements; his reflection, his own shadow, a piece of paper rolling over the street, even. Wide hazel eyes darted back and forth as he swiftly jerked up a hand to drag auburn strands from his eyes, as if even a moment of obscured vision could find him dead. Which wasn't wrong, considering his situation. He slipped into an alley, pressing his back to the wall and breathing in long, shaky breaths, kneading his palms into his temples before lowering one around his back, gripping the crowbar strapped to his rather large pack. He couldn't fight of zombies by himself! Oh no, before he would've been perfectly fine, then that Evan guy ditched him, and straight after that the Major was gone too! And now the medic was left all alone, cowering in the dark as thoughts of zombies shuffled through his mind.
Sebastian sighed softly, swiftly untying his hair before redoing it into a ponytail, once again noticing with dissatisfaction that his attempts to keep his wayward hair in place had been foiled. A hand then ran down to his face, quickly taking off his glasses and cleaning them on the edge of his black t-shirt before settling them again, dusting his hands on his jeans and resettling his pack before grasping the crowbar and heading off once more. The man wasn't used to this city, in fact he'd never been here before now, considering he wasn't even American. No, just a hapless bloke from Australia that managed to get trapped by the oncoming zombie horde. Fingers gripped his weapon so tightly his knuckles went white, feeling bile rise to his throat as he shook his head. He hadn't been the only one, his brother had been here, too. And with him, he actually thought he may have had a chance, been able to make it through, get back home.
But he'd killed him. He turned his back on him for a moment, and then he had to kill him. His older brother, who he always admired and looked up to, he was gone. Seb paused, looking at his crowbar and, for a moment, considering dropping the vile thing. He'd smashed his brother's head in with the same damn thing. Killed the person he held dearest to him. Tears sprung to his eyes and for a moment he was overwhelmed, shaking his head roughly to dispel the droplets before moving on at a jog, his expression set into a look of hate as he raised the crowbar once more. He'd worried about harming the undead for too long, fearing that they were still the people they used to be, still human. But they weren't. No, seeing his brother try to tear his throat out was enough for him to realize that. To him the world, his personal hell, was all about one rule now; kill or be killed.
And he wasn't going to die. Not now.
Sebastian slipped out onto the street, gliding past shop windows and jumping past shadows as he searched out either the Major or Evan, whomever he was closest to. He tensed, however, when the stench of rotting flesh grew stronger, the sounds of crunching and splattering enough to make his stomach flip as he broke into a run once more. As he lurched around the corner - with some difficulty, his pack almost dragged him off his feet, swinging dangerously on his back - he gasped for breath and stumbled onwards, spotting that Evan man up ahead surrounded by zombies. Blinking, he spotted another younger man beside him, bloodied and battered from the dead...undead lying scattered around them. And by the time that Ross collapsed once more he was beside him, dropping his bag roughly and kneeling next to him with a look of mixed horror and concern. "I-I thought...I thought there weren't anymore survivors." The man whispered, his voice thick with an Australian accent as he turned and opened his bag, searching out bandages and an ointment from back home used to numb any pain.
Sebastian gently reached down and tried to shift him, attempting to at least get him to sit up so he could look at his wounds better. At the same time, he thought it rude of himself to just barge in and start fussing over him, so he gave a pained smile and glanced upwards with brooding eyes, blinking slowly. "I'm Sebastian," He started, jerking his head backwards. "And that's Evan. You're...the first survivor we've seen."
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Post by βolt. on Nov 29, 2009 23:58:04 GMT -8
Evan Fenley Level One Scavenger Evan blinked with surprise as the other responded to him. He half expected the younger man's ability to speak to be gone. His expression some weird mix of sternness, curiosity, and vague concern he stared down at the weakened form attempting to move. Evan stood up and moved a pace back to watch him shift about, as if studying him. The stranger appeared to be in quite a bit of pain and yet introduced himself. To that the Scavenger just slid his crowbar back into his belt and folded his arms over his chest. His dark gaze faltered and looked around at their general surroundings when he was thanked, not entirely sure how he should react, but then his suit was mentioned and he looked down at himself. The sight of bodily fluids from the walking dead splattered on his once-clean clothing was rather agitating, but he could clean it. Plus he had other suits. The man looked back down to where 'Ross' was attempting to stand and grunted at the injured boy, "Don't... worry about it?" He really had no idea what to say to someone who was so friendly and talkative, even when he was probably on the verge of death. Ross went on to talk about how dead he would have been if Evan hadn't been in the area, and that he probably only needed a few bandages. He would cough violently every once in a while too, which was never a good sign. He was either sick, weak from a lack of food and water, was becoming a zombie, or some mixture of all of the above. Oh, and blood was mixed in with those coughs. Delightful. The man's face shifted to add something like distrust to his expression as he received a grin. If this Ross-guy was becoming a zombie... "Yeah, well, we'll let Medic be the judge of that." He spoke somewhat coldly to the younger male, though calmly as well. Watching a human turn would be nothing new to him, and so he had no qualms with leaving the boy there to die or bashing his head in with a rock. The Scavenger's unsure eyes wandered to where the Medic was, only to be pulled back to Ross as the plaid-clad man went on about... unicorns? Okay, this Ross guy was really losing it. They were probably better off just leaving him there- "H-Hey!" Evan unfolded his arms quickly and staggered backward. Ross had stumbled into his chest, pretty much forcing the older man to grab the other's upper arms and catch him. After a second of being tense he started to push the blond-haired man away by those upper arms with awkward movements, attempting to help right him on his own two feet. When he thought he would be fine to balance on his own he let go, only to watch the injured apologized and collapse at his feet. Evan simply stepped away just as the Medic moved in, ready to tend to the survivor's wounds. As for Evan, well he didn't really do anything useful. All the Scavenger did was stand and stare down at the other two, watching 'Medic' get right to work. The Medic introduced Evan and himself. So that was his name! Sebastian! The older man had forgotten it pretty quickly, and figured that he probably would again. He shrugged to himself and spoke, "Are you even sure he counts as a survivor?" He eyed Ross suspiciously. "I mean, if he's infected..."Word Count: 600 Total Money: $1,504 Total Experience: 479 Comments: N/A
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Post by Indeh on Nov 30, 2009 13:56:42 GMT -8
Again his expression was apologetic as he leaned safely on the other man in strained silence. He helped him stand up properly, before his knees buckled and he proceeded to fall back to the ground, scattering a small cloud of dust around him. A small tremor erupted through his mind; whether it was imaginary or really his skull shaking, he didn't know. Again his eyelids fluttered, and he slowly pried himself off the blood painted cement.
He winced, gently clearing a trickle of blood from his lip with the back of his hand. "So where'd'you come from?" His voice rasped out, tinged in an odd brightness that made it ever hard to take him seriously with it's cheerful southern tang. It was hella convenient the random people had shown up when they had, what, with their convenient weapons and medical supplies. It was almost odd, but his mind was too blurry to spend time comprehending it, so he simply let it go. He paused, turning to who had introduced himself as the medic-guy, and attempted to shake hands. "S'nice to meet you both," he grinned in a friendly manner.
He gave something of a nod, before sitting obediently beside the Medic. Another cloud of aberration fogged his vision as he began to wonder about he lepraucans, and why they had been running about with those schoolbuses. And then the two blonde-haired girls appeared in his mind, smiling at him gleefully as the memory shifted into a coloured film. The seemed to be pointing somewhere in the distance, and the camera shifted slightly so that a light pastel rainbow was in view. The two girls giggled in unison, before turning and skipping over to their brother, who had propped himself up against a hay bale with a cowboy hat shading his eyes. Suddenly the seams of the thought seemed to split, drifting gently back into shadows.
The boy's face seemed to twist in pain as Sebastian mentioned they hadn't known of any other survivors. He gave another wretch, looking up at the pair somewhat desperately. "H-have you seen two blonde haired girls 'bout... this tall?" He questioned, lifting his arm with somewhat of a struggle to demonstrate, despite the fact they'd already said he was the only survivor they'd seen.
He paused, putting what was left of his concentration onto speaking. "N-not 'nfected," he sputtered, eyes squeezed shut in frustration. Returning his attention the one called Sebastian, he let his arm slide away from his chest, revealing a mess of bloody bandages and scarring. "T-think y-you could do.. somethin' for that? Yer... a doctor or somethin' right?" He asked, giving as genuine a smile as he could as he offered the wrecked arm for examination. "I don't know nothin' bout this medical stuff, but I think them zombies there did a number on my arm. You can jus'... seal it back up, can't ya?" Ross trailed off, gingerly running his digits on the borders of a particularly long cut. "Y'know, one time my friend got his hand all caught up in a lawnmower, and he got way worse than this, but the doctors still patched him up right n' good," Ross began to ramble, moss-green eyes flickering in faint amusement.
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Post by xαяку on Nov 30, 2009 15:45:32 GMT -8
The man sighed and began to look over the stranger, noticing with a hint of irritation that Evan had backed off. Well, hopefully he was looking out for more zombies and not just standing around doing nothing. Adjusting his glasses and gently grasping the plaid wearing man by the arm as he began to clean the wounds and bandage them up, Sebastian heard Evan over his shoulder, his lack of concern setting his teeth on edge.
"Are you even sure he counts as a survivor? I mean, if he's infected..."
"He isn't. It doesn't look like he was bitten. I think he's just exhausted, that's all." Sebastian responded quietly, as he usually did considering he hadn't actually spoken to Evan all that much since he'd joined them a couple of days ago, swiftly going back to work and only pausing to shake Ross's hand, flashing him a grim smile as both began to think to themselves, although the stranger's thoughts seemed to be a bit more..flamboyant.
No, Sebastian was too busy wondering how they'd missed Ross so many times; surely he'd been wandering out there for as long as he had...then again, Sebastian could barely remember what part of Cadavernia he'd been found in, so maybe it was no wonder they hadn't seen him. As it was, some other survivor could have found him, couldn't they? The thought that someone had missed him made Sebastian's lips twitch into a frown, only forcing himself to smile again as the injured man began to speak. A wave of pity made him lower his head as he asked about seeing two other girls, shaking it softly and sighing. Survivors were hard to come by, that was for sure, and so reassuring words weren't exactly something Seb could muster up the courage to speak right now.
"T-think y-you could do.. somethin' for that? Yer... a doctor or somethin' right?"
Seb tensed and looked away for a moment, his lips set in a grimace and eyes staring darkly out across the eerily silent street as he thought. Was he a doctor? He'd only just gotten his degree as a doctor, never actually worked as one... He glanced up again and nodded, trying to look reassuring. "I'm not...I mean I am but...M-my brother and I.." He sighed, wincing and shaking his head, letting his sentence hang as Ross began to speak again. "For now I think we should just..bandage these up. We need to get out of here before any more zombies arrive." Seb responded quietly, biting his lip as he glanced down at the already bloodied bandages at his chest as he went to collect clean ones. "You don't mind...do you?" He added, turning to look at him with concern - he wouldn't want to freak him out by entering his personal space or anything, he was only trying to help, but still he wasn't exactly the mos trustworthy guy was he?
"S-sorry...I'm not a good medic."
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Post by psychromaniac on Nov 30, 2009 16:32:15 GMT -8
"you might not be a good medic, but you're the best we got now."
Major appeared from behind an overturned SUV to find his two comrades tending over another one. He was not in a good mood. One of the most important things Major had stressed when going on this mission was sticking together. "For four is greater than one, but one is greater than four." Meaning that a team is only really useful if they act as a team. And would you imagine his surprise when he turned around to tell the group that he was going into that convinience store to find some cigs only to discover that all of his teammates had mysteriously dissappeared.
It would be a vast understatement to say that he was rather annoyed.
"When we get out of here, your ass is on kitchen duty for the next week." Major pointed one of his fingers accusingly at Evan. "And you're getting 5 laps around the island." He pointed the other finger at Sebastian. "And now about you...." Major kneeled down to further examine the survivor. It was painfully obvious that the boy was knocking on death's door. He was severely malnourished and dehydrated (judging from his skin tone) and was in no position to walk, much less run as fast as they could to the Truck.
The three of them had arrived on the roads from a truck which had been hijacked a long time ago by the major, then reconstructed into their working vehicle. It was a piece of crap, needed constant repairs, and smelled terribly of old dog.
But to the Major, it might as well have been a Porsche for how valuable it was.
"Son, you've gotta be the skinniest thing I've ever seen. I don't even know what you'll be contributing to us..." A tense silence was held as Major's words hung in the air like a thick fog. Then, without warning, Major lifted up the new recruit and threw him over his shoulder as he began to march back towards their escape vehicle. "What? I never said we were gonna leave him."
Major stopped.
A feeling of ominousness exploded in the air like a land mine when Major took his first step forward. he looked around frantically as though looking for something, and a distant howling could be heard from far away. Major crouched down next to a pothole with a puddle in it. His eyes were aging badly and it was beginning to get to him, but by straining his eyes, Major could see tiny ripples in the puddle. And the howling was getting closer.
"boys, you might want to start running now!" Major started to jog forward as he pulled his pistol out of his holster.
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Post by βolt. on Nov 30, 2009 20:38:45 GMT -8
Evan Fenley Level One Scavenger Evan didn't bother to answer the checkered clad man's questions, though his second one was answered by... Se... Se... Oh, what was that name again? Sebastian, with a solemn shake of his head. Personally the Scavenger didn't see a whole lot of point in explaining anything to someone seeing unicorns. He didn't think he'd be able to remember half the things his rescuers were saying to him, so he chose to stand and silently observe instead. It seemed the two of them were convinced that Ross wasn't one of the infected, or even going to become one of them, so Evan shut his mouth on the topic and continued to stare distrustfully. He folded his arms over his chest just like before Ross had bumped into him, and allowed the corner of his lip to twitch when he overheard the Medic mention something about a brother and then later comment that he wasn't very good at his job. Oh there were all kinds of facts that one could use against others, one just had to stop and pay attention. Immediately after that, though, he almost jumped out of his skin. The voice of Major, the group's leader, came up from behind him and scared him shitless. He turned to look at him with a rather displeased expression, "DON'T... do that..." He didn't much appreciate being startled in the middle of a known danger zone, and wasn't hesitant on communicating that fact. He held his chest and attempted to calm his breathing as he watched their leader advance on them. "When we get out of here, your ass is on kitchen duty for the next week." "What!? You can't be serious!" Evan clearly didn't think it was very fair to randomly be assigned kitchen duty. That job was boring! And disgusting! He frowned, "There's no way that I'm doing kitchen duty for a week!" However, the thought of watching the Medic run five laps around the entire island did make him feel a little better, and would make a point of showing up to watch him for at least a little while. Oh, that would be quite hilarious. How Evan hoped the girly man would have to run with all of his medical supplies. How he hoped. With an aggravated sigh he turned to watch the Major tell the survivor that he didn't know what use he would be. For a second he actually thought they'd be ditching him, but instead observed the old man sling Ross over his shoulder with ease. To that Evan tilted his head and produced a cruel smirk, "You must be light as a feather, Blondy." He poked a little fun at Ross despite the fact he was terribly weak. Meh, what odds? He figured he'd be seeing the guy around The Fort so he might as well get a head start on the torment. Something told him that their new little recruit would be a fun little toy for him. Still with that smirk he started to follow behind the old man, attempting to forget about the kitchen duty that awaited him back 'home.' Evan really had a tough time thinking of the Fort as his home, but when he seriously thought about it... that damn island really was where he lived now. The Scavenger had been a part of the community for quite some time but still he couldn't quite grasp the idea of having a home after seeing Las Vegas get blasted into ruin. Shoving his hands into his pockets, looking rather pleased for some unknown reason, he followed behind their leader. However, they didn't get far, as Major stopped dead in his tracks. Evan moved up to his side to see what the hell he was looking at. And what was he looking at? A puddle... Now why the hell would he be starting at a puddle? Major must have been losing- But then he noticed there was a tense air about the other man, so Evan actually said nothing for once. In the silence he could hear distant screams- or something- shattering it. As the alarming sound grew louder and louder, the Major finally made a sound. "Boys, you might want to start running now!" "Oh, screw this!" Without any further thinking Evan was off at a run right behind the other two. He was not going to stick around and play hero. He yelled as he fled with the group, urgency evident in his tone, "Exactly how far are we from the truck!?"Word Count: 745 Total Money: $2,249 Total Experience: 479 Comments: N/A
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Post by Indeh on Nov 30, 2009 21:16:57 GMT -8
"That's'a relief!" he piped up, clearly pleased with with the medic's diagnosis. He didn't want to be no flesh-eater, and he certainly didn't want to get shot by the same people that had just saved him.
He paused, a grimace settling on his face as the red-haired man gave a short shake of the head. He bit his lip, barely noticing as the cracked skin easily tore and bled. So long had he been wandering aimlessly through splintered city, running around fighting off the undead, and for what; nothing at all.
Ross looked up as Sebastian spoke, a look of pain on his face. "You seem like a mighty fine doctor to me," he insisted, wincing. "Naw, you can go a-ahead," his voice stammered out, causing a brief shiver to run up his spine, despite the fact it was searing hot outside, and despite the fact there was practically an inferno on his insides. He moved his hands shakily to buttons on his shirt, before he faltered over the sight of the blood-soaked bandages. "Well s-shit, I didn't realize they got me so bad," he muttered, forcing his eyes back toward the cement. "I-it's alrigh', I seen worse--,"
His ramblings were quickly put to an end as a new voice echoed through the now deadly silent street. He turned himself, looking up at the figure as it approached. Immediately a stream of scoldings streamed from his mouth, calling authority over the two who had just rescued him. He opened his mouth to speak, but was again cut off as the elderly man seemed to examine him up and down. "H-hi, m'names Ross and--"
He trailed off, listening to the fellow in war-ready outfit. He looked sort of like G.I. Joe, except older and somehow more badass. The trio seemed hardly the types that would work together, but if they were saving his butt, then he wasn't gonna ask questions about it. At the remark about his lack of... much, he simply winced, as though he had only just realized the angry gurgling at the pit of his stomach. For three days he had been walking without food, for days he was convinced he didn't need any due to blissfull delirium. He almost missed his vivid hallucinations. As he was pondering that very profound thought, he failed to notice as the man slung him over his shoulder. "Y'don't have to carry me, 'm alright, I promise," he murmured, struggling with his own eyes to keep in-focus. The first one that had found him, Evan, was following rather closely behind, glancing suspiciously about as if something were creeping in the shadows. That wasn't entirely untrue, but of course, Ross didn't know this. The only thing he could discern above the sound of his steady heartbeat was the chatter between the three. A few words were caught by his drowned ears, and he turned his eyes to look at Evan.
Blondy? The boy frowned slightly, casting him a curious look. It wasn't as if he could do much about being carried anyway, since his limbs seemed to be out of order at the moment. And suddenly everything was spun into a panic, and the old man carrying him had started into a jog, heading toward somewhere he couldn't exactly see from his view.
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Post by xαяку on Nov 30, 2009 21:55:19 GMT -8
"you might not be a good medic, but you're the best we got now."
Sebastian tensed and lowered his head, biting his tongue to cut off the groan that rumbled in his throat. Oh, he knew exactly who it was behind him, and he didn't like it at all. Of course he hadn't thought about the consequences when he'd started running, but that was because he was scared, could anyone really blame him? And wasn't it a good thing that he had - if he hadn't, he wouldn't have found Evan and Ross. He winced as Evan was snapped at and given kitchen duty, rolling his eyes as the man retorted, but he could help but look up in disbelief as the Major gave him his punishment, his hands that had been working on wrapping clean bandages around Ross's chest falling to his sides.
"M-major! T-that's...I-I....yes sir." The man whispered, resigned as he gently put a hand on Ross's shoulder. "Ah, there, that'll do for now. I'll fix them up properly when we get to the fort, okay?" Sebastian responded, before leaning in and whispering in his ear. "I'm sorry about those girls you're looking for...I wish I could help, but I'm just a medic, see? I'm not...good at that sort of thing." He added, a pained smile flickering across his features.
"Son, you've gotta be the skinniest thing I've ever seen. I don't even know what you'll be contributing to us..."
Sebastian blinked and turned to look at the major, biting his lip and narrowing his eyes. "I'll look after him," He murmured, before his eyes lowered again. No way was he going to let someone else end up like his brother, that was for sure. Especially not someone who seemed as nice as Ross. He watched as the Major picked up Ross, still peering at the ground and then at the blood on his hands, a shiver crawling down his spine as he drifted deeper into thought. However it wasn't long before he was dragged back to reality, and what he heard was enough for his heart to leap to his throat.
A rumbling, shrieking roar from somewhere down the street, and the words of their captain; "boys, you might want to start running now!" Okay, now it was time to panic.
Sebastian whirled around to look after them with wide eyes, jerking his head around so fast that his glasses slipped and tumbled sideways, his world becoming a blur. Oh no, oh no, oh no.. His mind shrieked, swiftly zipping up his pack, grasping his crowbar and turning to pick up his glasses. And as he looked up that was when he saw them; The surging mass of zombies that hurtled from the alley before them. There had to be at least ten of the bastards, and each of them had their empty eyes turned on him. By the time he managed a yell of terror the first, a tall muscular bloke that was missing a chunk of his neck was already upon him, a claw-like hand reaching up to grasp him by the throat, smashing him into the wall. But doing so had left him wide open, and with a terrified hiss Sebastian kicked him in the chest, before bringing his raised arm and crowbar down upon his already partially severed throat, hearing the crack of its neck and watching as its head rolled from the broad shoulders, blood splattering his face and glasses.
However, there wasn't a chance for a moment of triumph, for Sebastian was running, a number of thinner zombies surging forwards to try and grab at his ankles. Breath became nothing but pitiful whines as he tried to force enough air into his lungs to keep moving, knees shaking as he raised his head to see the retreating figures of the others just ahead. He could reach them, he had a chance. And then the Stalker jumped on his back, on top of his already heavy bag, and he found himself falling.
"N-no!" Seb screamed, fighting to turn onto his back as claws raked his shoulders and sides, thrusitng the Crowbar into the zombie's jaw and watching as the appendage snapped and clattered to the ground, it's tongue lolling out as blood gushed over the jagged opening to it's throat and onto Seb's shirt, a whine of fright tearing from his lips as he hit it again, this time stabbing it through the eye. But still the others loomed closer, and with wide eyes he noticed that they hadn't stopped, Evan and the Major weren't turning back for him. "D-don't leave me, please!" He pleaded, voice shrill as the screams of the undead rose to a higher pitch, and his glasses were knocked away so the figures of the predators were nothing but blurrs.
But he saw the Stalker on top of him raise it's arm, and he knew then that he was dead.
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Post by psychromaniac on Dec 1, 2009 16:46:23 GMT -8
If there was one thing Major hated worse than zombies, it was a dysfunctional team. And having to deal with both at the same time was not making him a happy camper.
"I don't know where the truck is from here! you two ran off so far away that I lost track of where I was going!" Major shouted back at Evan whilst hauling the new survivor. He was surprisingly light, which was both good and bad. Good, being that Major wouldn't have to work as hard to carry him, and bad being that he was probably several pounds underweight. But that could wait till later, since the undead would quickly make a meal out of the boy. Bony and dry, but otherwise perfectly edible for them.
Major heard someone shout behind him and turned whilst back-pedaling to see Sebastian being clawed apart by a stalker. He turned towards Evan, hoping he would shoot the thing in time.
Then Major remembered that Evan didn't have a gun.
With an annoyed grunt, Major aimed the barrel of his pistol at the stalker and fired two bullets into it's head. The bullets flew threw the air and shattered the zombie's skull, then fragmenting inside the cranium, effectively turning it into mush, while the energy continued forward and splattered blood over the chest of an oncoming zombie. Major fired off another four rounds into the respective skulls of the two incoming cadavers. "Evan, help Sebastian up!" He paused for a moment and added "Do it and I'll make it five days!" Then he charged forward, knowing the two would be more than capable of fighting off the remaining few of the original ten zombies. But Major kept running. He knew there would be hundreds more on their way.
The Soldier vaulted over an over-turned Suburban and into an alleyway before kicking a trashcan out of the way. Upon exiting the crack between the buildings, the Officer glanced to his sides for a way out. What he didn't expect was the truck a few hundred yards away. Aparently they hadn't gone as far as he thought.
"Boys! the truck's this way!!!" Sweet salvation. There couldn't be a more perfect time to see that piece of crap on wheels. Major sprinted as fast as his old legs could carry.
250 yards.... He hopped over a moped.
180 yards.... Shot a zombie in the way with his last bullet.
100 yards.... The Truck was only a football-field's length away.
50 yards.... He was almost there! they would ma--
CRACK. ...shit.
Major stumbled over his left leg and collapsed on the ground, letting the survivor roll over several times, stopping a few meters away. Of course, the irony. For the perfect time for them to find the truck, the situation had to be balanced out by the worst possible thing that could happen to Major at the time. His hip went out. Again.
The military man gripped his left side and grimaced as pain shot through his side. Dammit....of all the things.... But there were more pressing matters now. He looked up at the truck, his last and only hope for safety, just 50 yards away. And at the same time, it seemed to mock him. Taunting Major's old age and scrutinizing about how he should've never come out here and that he was too old for this shit.
With his good leg, Sergent Major Charles started to slide against the pavement with his left hand pointing outwards at the few zombies which began to take notice of the easy prey. He grabbed Ross by the collar and began to drag him forward as well, but Major knew it was hopeless. The Horde was coming closer, and neither would make it. Even if one sacrificed himself.
"Well this sure is a fine way to go out...."
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Post by βolt. on Dec 1, 2009 19:27:27 GMT -8
Evan Fenley Level One Scavenger It never even occurred to Evan that maybe he should hang back and make sure everyone was keeping up. On no mission did that train of thought ever stop by his brain. He was only focusing on saving his own hide by not falling too far behind the Major. There were pleading cries coming from the Medic so the old man turned around in mid-jog. Running backwards he shot at something- or some things, as he used three bullets. Evan didn't stop to see what it was, even when the Major told him to go back and help Sebastian up. He was dead set on ignoring every order until they were safe. That is, until the Major mentioned that he would cut the Scavenger's kitchen duty down by two days. Two whole days.With a frustrated expression he stopped and turned around, darting back toward the oncoming zombies. He wasn't shy about letting out a few aggravated words either, at least one of them being a swear. The four-eyes was on the ground, except he wasn't a four-eyes at the time. His glasses had been thrown off of his face and were lying just out of his reach. He bent forward mid-run and swiped them up, pretty well aware of the younger man's useless vision. In a growling tone he started to make demands, slipping his crowbar back into his hands and readying it as a weapon. "Get your whimpy ass up!" With a mighty swing powered by annoyance he broke a gaping hole in the head of a bastard getting ready to kneel down and take a bite out of the Medic. From the injury fluids leaked, exposing brain tissue to the men. With a disgusted noise he jabbed the metal item deep inside, mixing and destroying the pudding-like organ. "Unless you want to be dead! In which case leaving you here is fine by me!" Pulling the bar out and swinging into the other direction another zombie was taken down, leaving five others closing the gap. Before they could do that the Scavenger turned on Sebastian and yanked him violently by one of his arms, forced his damn lenses into one of the other's hands, and then pulled him along in the direction Major had gone by the wrist. He was running again, tugging the blind man along to make sure he didn't fall behind again. It was getting annoying, having to waste his energy to save someone else's life, but what else could he do? Plus he supposed if he had gone through with ignoring the Major he'd have to deal with much worse than a zombie hoard back at the Fort. He glared at the other, though it was a short glare sense he had to watch where he was running. "If you get me killed..." He was not happy and the grip on the other's wrist communicated that fact. Evan actually only let go of Sebastian after he pulled him around an overturned SUV and stopped. "Where the hell did Major go!?"The screams of the five infected he had fled from, plus hundreds more from some unknown location, echoed through the streets. Feeling he had no choice he readied his crowbar like a bat and stepped to the edge of the Suburban, waiting for one of the flesh-eaters to come to him. They weren't far, and it wasn't long before Evan found himself swinging viciously at yet another discolored skull as it rounded the vehicle. Then there was the sound of voices on another street- you'd be surprised how easy it is to hear someone in a ruined town, but Evan was a little busy defending himself to figure out where it was. Word Count: 598 Total Money: $2,847 Total Experience: 813 Comments: N/A
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Post by Indeh on Dec 1, 2009 20:53:10 GMT -8
He landed with a dizzying thud before rolling off to the side of where Major had fallen. At first he didn't quite register what happened, simply choosing to lay on his back staring blankly into the awfully blue sky.
And suddenly he was back on his feet again, getting pulled roughly by the tattered collar of his shirt along the alleyway. Several times he stumbled, nearly taking the two of them down accidentally. Ross could see pretty much nothing; only smudges and the details of zombie's faces as they careened by. His dreary gaze settled on Major, who was still trying to get him out despite the fact he seemed badly injured.
"H-here let me--" He paused as a flurry of grey shot by his vision, darting directly toward the pair. "Sh-- DUCK," he exclaimed rather loudly, pulling Major down by the sleeve as a zombie hurtled overhead, landing easily on the red-splattered floor. As soon as he'd opened his eyes again, Major was ahead, though only slightly due to his hip. He whirled around in a panicked search for the other two, arms flailing in a frenzy as his focus dimmed once more. As he did so, the side of his fist smashed into a nearby zombie's head, resulting in a slight snapping noise as he disconnected it's jaw--accidentally. He watched the zombie as it crumbled to the floor with a dumbfounded look, before he snapped his attention back into focus, or semi-focus, at least.
He had noticed his dog tags had slipped off his neck, landing with a soft clink on the pavement. As soon as he reached down to swiftly pick up the necklace, he was just as quickly tackled into the nearest wall. The back of his head hit the brick wall with a sickening crack, causing his vision to blur as the pain radiated through his skull. Another sharp registry of pain erupted at his stomach where the new bandages had been placed, causing the delirious boy to whip around and simply tackle his attacker back. They hit the ground again, rolling once before he managed to grab something; a pipe. Using the new "weapon" as a baseball bat, he swiftly turned and drove the side of the blunt hunk of metal into the zombie's chest. A nauseating crunch sounded as the pipe cleanly crushed into its ribcage, causing it to let out a dreadful howl.
It wasn't exactly finished yet, however, and proceeded to stagger in his direction, blood-shot eyes glittering with hate. He watched it closely, nervously eying the bleary image of the ever-so-close vehicle in the corner of his eye. The zombie lunged with a particularly predatory shriek; he dodged--clumsily before uppercutting it with a slightly sharp edge of the pipe. It crushed mercilessly through the undead's skull, sending a wave of crimson and brain-matter across the wall. The blonde-haired boy took in a deep relieved breath, looking quite pleased with himself for apparently doing something useful.
But as it turned out, there were more, many more. He bit his lip, doing his best to keep his eyes open to all points where the shadows and gurgling sounds lurked. Three zombies had emerged from the end of the alley, surging toward him with gobs of sickly vomit dripping from their grey lips. "Aw hell, aw shit," he muttered under his breath, glancing around desperately for something to aid him in his death-defying mission. His fingers grazed the top of a garbage can, and right as one of the zombies got close enough, he slipped off the can's lid and whacked it in the side of the head, all in one surprisingly fluid movement. It gave a hiss of fury, tumbling to the ground on top of the two others that had come running.
Soon enough he was using the lid as something of a shield as he stumbled about attempting to keep the crawlers away from Major, who was having his own troubles as it was.
He glanced back at Major, noting he was still struggling along with a look of agony across his features. Ross winced, staggering over to the older man and forcing one of his arms over his own damaged shoulder. "C-c'mon let's jus' g-get over there," he rasped, doing his best to drag the both of them toward the car.
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Post by xαяку on Dec 1, 2009 21:40:35 GMT -8
Sebastian couldn't help but cry out as the jawless Stalker on top of him slumped forwards, it's head imploding moments earlier and splattering his form with fluid and brain tissue. He couldn't help but gag, spitting bile to the concrete beside him as he reached out an arm, flailing for his glasses. Oh, if only he didn't need to glasses. "Son of a bitch, where are you?!" He hissed, and for a moment was surprised by the uncharacteristic swearing that he seemed to be pulling off.
Speaking of pulling off, another zombie had just leaped upon him, wrenching his decapitated attacker off him before attempting to tear his throat out as he got to his hands and knees. And, he probably would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for that meddling scavenger and his dumb crowbar. Sebastian peered up with blurred eyes as an expression of gratitude dawned on his features, swiftly replaced with a furious snarl. "Get your whimpy ass up! Unless you want to be dead! In which case leaving you here is fine by me!" Evan declared while turning the zombie's brain to mush, a snort of fury the only response given by Sebastian - okay, now he hated this guy. Not only did he imply that Ross was infected, he ditched him and didn't turn back until the Major cut down his punishment, and now he was acting like some high and mighty son of a bitch after not even taking into consideration that the guy who had been kneeling down to help the survivor may have had some trouble getting up again?! Oh that tore it!
However, before he had a chance to voice his frustrations, Sebastian found himself being dragged to his feet and running for his life down the street behind Evan, whipping up his hand to slap his bloodied glasses on his equally dirty face before allowing it to absently trace over the ragged wounds along his shoulders and torso, grunting in disgust and pain. Well great, good thing he was the medic, right? By then he was roughly pulled behind and SUV, kneeling beside Evan with his own Crowbar clenched tightly in his hands. "I don't know where they are, but we need to-" Sebastian cut off with a frustrated hiss as the other man lurched out from behind the vehicle and proceeded to attack the oncoming horde. At the same time, he picked up voices from nearby, and with a less than apologetic glance at the suave looking jerk before him, quickly sprinted for the alley, slipping in and narrowly dodging another undead predator, it's teeth snapping shut at his ear.
Sebastian didn't look back, pounding over the mismatched stones until he found himself on the next street, not stopping to clear his red tinted vision as he charged past the van, tossing his bag beside it and whirling around to smash his crowbar in another flesh-eater's face, his eyes narrowed to slits as he tried to take his mind off everything and make his way over to Ross and the Major. "You aren't well enough, Ross!" The man yelled, amber eyes flashing at him behind crimson tainted lenses as he reached up and brought the crowbar down on anothers temple, backing up with a disgusted growl. "If Evan got eaten - god forbid - you'll have to get the Major to the truck and I'll try and look out for the zombies, alright?" He added, gently gripping his injuries and taking a deep breath before backing up a few paces, his weapon still raised.
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