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Thread: Desolé

  1. #31
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    [Gm’s Notes]

    For future reference, I would like people to take consideration a few things that I learned in a class a short while back.

    A. What does your character(s) want?
    B. Since they’re all talking in the first person, why are they talking? and who are they talking to.

    You don’t have to discretely answer any of these things, but I’ve found keeping these things in the back of my head to be immensely helpful in my writing.

    A. Every person out there *wants* something and if your character doesn’t, then he just isn’t very interesting.

    B. Similarly, if they’re talking, they have a reason for it.

    Whatever it is, these things round out your character, and make them truly believable. None of you have done a bad job so far, but since we’re still in the beginning stages of getting to know our characters (I know I haven’t answered my own questions), but I figured it might help us all a little.

    OOC: Welcome, Horned. Very glad to have you. If you’re unfamiliar with US geography, you might find it useful to do what I’ve been doing: google maps. Haha. Even Americans aren’t familiar with US geography.

    ---

    - Uriel / Ishmael

    Although the woman questioned me multiple times, I kept silent. It wasn’t because I wanted to withhold information from her, but it was because I didn’t know how to answer her questions. “What are you?” She had asked first, and that was the hardest question.

    If I told her what I was, it put a great deal of pressure on me, a great deal of expectation. Even if I was equipped to handle such expectation, it was not for me to be the subject of inevitable fear and worship. I thought about lying to her, but lying was never my forte and I couldn’t for the life of me come up with one.

    Still, I managed to come up with one for Owen. I figured that I would tell him the truth just a little later. Even if Hog had been quick to arm himself, it wasn’t unlikely that others wouldn’t act the same. The world called for it. It screamed for desperation, and as night fell, I was certain that I could hear it.

    I knew that the truth would come out eventually, and perhaps I would be discredited, but I was beginning to think such a position better suited me. I still had a mission to accomplish, and now I had been impeded by these adventures.

    We made our usual preparations, taking our stand in a lost little motel. I walked in and noticed the bullet ridden windows. Who knew if these were made before or after the apocalypse. We locked all the windows and the rooms after they were cleared. We had rifle-men placed on the second floor, some facing outwards while others looked down into the courtyard. Those of us who were unarmed crowded into two room on the second floor, right by stairs that led back down the courtyard and the vehicles.

    It was a position that was ideally defensible, but something bothered me.

    Delrana called Owen over and I followed after quietly, curiosity beckoning me forward. Her suggestion was highly dangerous. We would have to spare men in order to clear the store, but as darkness drew closer, even if the store was completely devoid of devils, our position in the motel would be somewhat compromised.

    Owen was furious as she walked away, still wearing little more than my coat. “Who the hell does she think she is?” I shrugged. He gave me a confused look. “Aren’t you cold without your coat?” I looked myself over. I was wearing a sweater over a long-sleeve button down shirt. “No. I don’t get cold,” I said plainly.

    Now he shrugged. “Hey, Ish. We don’t have that much food left. We don’t even have enough for everyone to eat tonight. She’s right about that.”

    I nodded.

    “We still have about half an hour before sunset and we’re all ready, and as much I don’t want to spare any men, some supplies would do a lot for morale.”

    I nodded again.

    Now, Owen gave me almost a sly look. “If the crazy girl wants to help, I say we let her do what she wants.”

    I gave him a look, judging him. “I’ll go with her.” He looked startled in return. “What?” Frank Dora stepped into the conversation at this point, looked us both up and down, evaluating our expressions. “One of you is planning somethin’ dangerous, aren’t ya?”

    I nodded while Owen stammered.

    “Well, I’m in,” Dora stated.

    “What?” Owen stated again. “Explorer, we can’t spare you.” It took me a moment to realize that he was still talking to Frank. Apparently Explorer was his nickname. It seemed a little long for a nickname, I thought.

    “C’mon, Owen. You got enough men stationed out in at least ten rooms in this measly little town. They should be able take care of anything. Besides,” he jerked his finger in Delrana’s direction, “She’s hot.”

    At this, Owen blushed a little. Then, unexpectedly, Angela jumped in as well. “I’m in, too!” She said. She had a backpack on and the gun I gave her was obviously tucked into her pants. At this point, Frank Dora, whispered under his breath, “Jailbait.”

    Owen and I joined teams and made our protests, but Angela drew her gun in a wild, fast motion and nailed all three lights on a stoplight. Red. Yellow. And Green. There was something about her that was different. As if her shadow and her form didn’t match. She smirked a little while Dora whistled that he was impressed.

    Owen said little else, leaving us to it, as he returned to his preparations.

    Dora called Delrana over, handing each of us an Uzi as well as handful of clips.. “Y’know what that is?” he said to me. “Yes. Where did you find this?” I replied.

    He pointed at himself and laughed. “Gun collector.”

    OOC: Shari, I’ll follow your lead.

  2. #32
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    My eyes were constantly glancing around as I walked through the city in my lycan form. It was around noon, I was hungry...and I picked up that bastard's scent again. It was coming the east...which meant I was west of it. Glancing up at the sun for a moment to regain my sense of time before turning towards the scent. Every home was a potential danger. Every dark alley was too. It may have been daytime...but weirder things have happened then these things and they might work up the balls to attack during day.

    My luck, they'd decide to do it when I'm around and then I'd have a whole horde of them to deal with. Chuckling slightly I shook my head. "Yeah. They've got it in for you." I said to myself. "These undead things with no brain are coordinatin." I grinned at the thought...I got more paranoid over the years than I thought I did. I shook my head again as I reached where the scent was. A warehouse of some sort. "He can't be serious? Hiding here is a deathtrap...too many ways in to watch."

    I spotted an open door in front of me that seemed to be on the darker half of the warehouse. Ducking inside quickly, I got my bearings. I sniffed the air...my nose practically jerking me towards the vampire behind the tractor. Every sense I had was yelling an alert that this was the guy I'd been tracking. Every muscle tensed, I did a quick scenery scan to see what I could use if things went wrong. During my glance around, someone came in from the other side of the warehouse...a woman. But something was off...she smelled different. She wasn't a normal human.

    'Good thing I changed back right before walking in here' I thought. I glanced down as a breeze felt a little chillier then it had before. 'Yeah...forgot about the naked part.' Thinking to myself as I realized that the fur was gone and so were the clothes I had on a couple days ago. 'Oh yeah...that guy's clothes. They might come in handy after this encounter.' I gripped the doorframe next to me...my lycan half wanted out. It practically became another voice in my head during the insanity and paranoia of all these years.

    'Go kill them both' It said 'Eat them afterwards' It egged me on. "Hold on." I whispered "I want to see what she's doing for a few moments first." Growling in the back of my head 'Don't blame me if things don't work out.' It angrily spoke...disappearing into my mind again. Peering my head over the barrel I was next to, I observed what happened. A mental wall went up to keep that other half at bay for a little longer...he was hard to control sometimes. The woman spoke. "Well well well. If it isn't Ted Dokes."

    So that's his name. I finally know what to call that son of a...'You don't think this'll hold me do you?' That voice again. Why now? The wall cracked a pieces fell from a blow to the center of it. This mental fight I won't win...I want him dead to. A few minutes of listening later and he was in full view. The picture I had in my head of him and the way he stood now...were exactly the same. Two more cracks at the wall, and it was only half still standing now. I shook my head "Hold on." I whispered. "Just hold on."

    "Look, before you kill me, y-you really need to hear me out," He's scared. Trying to beg. My temper started rising...the wall started crumbling quicker. He's trying to get what he didn't offer her. Growling sounded from the back of my head again that burst into a roaring. I realized I was growling now as I changed into the Lycan again. Knocking the barrel against the wall it stood next to in the process. The woman grabbed Ted's neck suddenly. She must've heard me. Things started to go in slow motion now. She started to twist his neck violently.

    'Kill her...she's going to kill what you wanted to. Kill her now!' He yelled in my head and I all did was growl in response as every fiber of my being agreed. Sprinting out as she was twisting his neck, I reached her as she just finished. Grabbing Ted by the throat as he started to fall limp, I threw him against the tractor. 'I'll deal with her in a minute' I answered the voice finally.' Sniffing Ted for a second I ripped his shirt off. No tattoo on his neck. 'What the...' His smell is exactly the same...he even looks the...as I thought about it the one I'm looking for didn't act like Ted but everything was identical. Twins. Damnit. He's still out there.

    Throwing Ted against the wall I turned to the woman. My voice deep and angry as I growled questions out at her "Who are you? How do you know him? Where's his brother? What's his brother's name?" I didn't wait for one to be replied I kept shouting them out, yelling them at her. I needed answers and I wanted them yesterday.

  3. #33
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    OOC:

    L is pretty obvious, i was surprised you needed to google it at all Ark. ;)

    Horned, I sent you a PM.

    IC:

    I wasn't exactly sure how long I had been tangled in the rebar, but trying to free oneself from twisted rebar is almost as bad as falling on it in the first place, especially when one of the pieces ended up being as long as I am tall. I faded a few times on that one. I was, overall, getting used to the shock of mortal wounds. It didn't take long to realize that you could hang on a little longer if you stayed aware and didn't get anxious. Afterall, what did I have to lose? It was a little weird to just blank out a whole day or a few hours, but I was getting used to it. There were a few perks though, I noticed my knee hadn't felt that good in years; not since I was hit by that car.

    I walked on for a bit longer from North 7th Street, where I landed on the rebar, and found Bill's Barbecue. It was pretty unsettling when I thought about how similar bbq looked to a rack of human ribs, in a way. When I hit mainstreet, I headed east for a while and came across Kulture. I scratched my head and decided to walk in, after all no one would get close to me without trying to kill me with how I looked. The power was off. With no one maintaining the oil pipelines for the gas plants, they shut down and off went the power. Thankfully, it didn't matter much. It was during the day and the building had a glass front, It wasn't that hard to see in a place that small.

    I browsed through all the clothes they had there and picked out a few things that fit. I had to chuckle when I thought of a man in his early thirties like myself walking around in trendy college clothes for kids half my age. Rather juvie, but whatever. The next closest place for menswear was miles and miles away, and I was a bloody mess. Before I decided to stuff the clothes in bags and put a pair on, I took a little bath in the sink. My face had a thin and scraggly beard of about fourteen days' growth since I was hit by the shotgun, I realized as I looked in the mirror.

    Nancy was gone, and my parents. I was sure of it. Everywhere I went in Richmond, I knew I would be haunted by memories of them. Who knew how long it had been that I was in the morgue anyway? All I knew was that most of the food in gas stations was gone or moldy. Everything that would keep was gone and looted, even before the virus hit. Most of the gas stations didn't even have gas, and by now, people would have tried to pump it out of the take themselves with a wet-vac or something, or tried to fill gas cans one at a time by lowering it down. Who cares? I die, I wake up. That seems to be the gist of my existence now. What did it matter?

    I finished cleaning up and got into a real pair of clothes. The naked thing hasn't worked out very well since the morgue. It tended to get me shot, stabbed, or pushed off buildings. I doubt a clean outfit would scare anyone into shooting me. I heard some shuffling upstairs suddenly; slow crawly sort of thing. I looked outside and saw the sun was going down, which would explain it. I wonder what they'll think of me now that I look normal and not half-dead, I thought, and decided to hang around. Just in case, I looked behind the counter for a gun. Thankfully, there was one.

    I had had a glock 19 before it all happened. I went to the range a lot at first, but it had been quite some time since then. Either way, I was pretty confident that I'd hit the target pretty well. I checked the ammo and safety on the pistol, different than the glock, but felt comfortable. Easier. Looked to be a SIG P220, from the model number markings; .45 cal. It was a full clip, and looked like it had never been used. It was dusty. I hoped it worked, but it wasn't like it mattered anyway. If I died, I'd come back.

    I heard slow footsteps upstairs and kept the gun at my side to wait. I saw a bare foot come down onto the step gently, then another. It was a woman, but no reason to lower my guard for that. She got halfway down and must have seen my own legs, because she slowed and stopped, hesitating. I didn't think one of those undead scrounging creatures would have. Either that or they knew that guns are bad for them. In which case, it's good, because I hadn't really had any confrontations with any yet and didn't know if they could be killed or not. If they were like me, but stupid. I walked forward and looked up the stairs.

    The closer I got the more I saw of this person or thing, and noted that she wore cargo shorts. She saw I was more or less a normal person and wasn't much more thankful, but at least I wasn't trying to eat her. She was a pretty girl, but nothing too out of the ordinary. She was a college girl, I could tell. She was about that age, and it was a college store. "Wanna come along? It's getting dark," I said simply.

    "Umm..." she was rather unsure and timid. Probably shellshocked is the word I should use. "I guess," she finally said, a few seconds later. "You have a gun, so that's better than nothing. You have a place in mind?" She looked concerned, "Somewhere safe?"

    "Nope," I replied. "But I would like to see if my girlfriend is alive. It's a long shot, I know, but it would be nice to see her face again. Alive or dead... ..." I kinda lowered my head a little and murmured, "If she still has a face..."

    "Hmm?" she asked, not hearing what I said. She went back upstairs, I'm guessing to grab her shoes.

    "Ah, nothing," I said. I put the safety on the pistol and stuffed it into the front of my pants for now. There was a backpack on the rack and I took it, stuffing a couple pairs of clothes into it. Having three was alright. You need variety even in an apocalypse.

    She came down a minute later with a little boy in hand, rubbing his eyes of sleep. You have to be kidding me, I said to myself in disappointment. Well this sucks. "My name is Damion," I said smiling kind of half-heartedly. I was mentally drained, and pretty hungry. I didn't want to eat human flesh anymore. It was too gross a thought and tasted like iron. Even though I knew it was just dead meat at that point, and no longer a person. There was just something wrong about eating your own species, as a sentient creature.

    "I'm Lilly," she said, and smiled back. "This is Derek." She rubbed her thumb across his fingers as she held his hand. She looked too young to be a mother... but these days? Guess not. "He's a good boy. He's scared, but he doesn't freak out. I do, but... I'm still alive. So I guess I'm doing something right. Heh..." it was one of those nervous laughs.

    "Any idea of survivors?" I asked. I hadn't been out much, obviously.

    "Yeah, here and there... They don't usually want to take us in, because of Derek being so young. Selfish bastards..." She took a deep breath and sighed in frustration. "We stay awake at night and sleep during the day. It's peaceful during the day, but if you're asleep at night, you die. They come on you. You know? The only way they would let us stay with them is if I..." Lilly's eyes got a little red and glossy.

    "Never mind that," I said. "We'll find out what to do. I've been, uh, trapped, for lack of a better explanation, but kept safe by it, until a few hours ago. Happened about three or four days ago. So I don't know anything that's gone on since then, at least. Maybe you can catch me up?" I waved to them and they walked forward, ready to depart. I smiled at Derek and patted his back. He smiled back, probably happy to see someone being nice to them for something other than selfish reasons. "But first things first," I said.

    "I'm STARVING..." I said. "Any suggestions?"

    She bit her lip and made a sort of thoughtful look. "We could leave Richmond, or get out of the city. There's nothing left here that's good to eat. And it smells."

    "Heh," I grinned. "It does at that, doesn't it? Alright. I'll check on Nancy, and then I'll oblige you and see if we can get out of this hell-hole."

  4. #34
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    Marcus

    (Arr Ark, you never replied lol SoHee, I emailed you about Furious btw heh
    Horned, don't feel bad, maps.google.com has been my staple in all this XD)

    Damnit. I drifted off again. I looked around from where I rested, still sitting on the same crate at the base, leaning back against the wall. Checking my watch briefly, and muttering a silent prayer that I had only been out for a couple of hours, I stood. I felt a little better. The sort of better you usually feel after a catnap. It wasn't that I really needed sleep, but it did feel good every once in awhile. And I had been having the most delightful dream about Rose, summer in Paris, and puppies. I believe there were a few unicorns as well. I always loved how their hair was so incredibly soft. I remember I used too...

    Wait. That's not right. Unicorns? That was when I became aware of the fact that I was clutching my head with both hands, fingers twisted in my hair, my elbows propped on the crate. Taking a few deep, somewhat calming breaths I released the near frantic grip on my skull. Dear Lord, I thought, though without a trace of the sardonic tone most of my species would use, Give me strength. It was a simple prayer, though certainly effective. Course, that meant that God would need to, for one, be paying any attention to this world, and two, the even smaller chance He would deign me important enough to listen to.

    Using a time-honored skill I had honed over the years, I pushed all thought from my mind. I began to move around again, picking up where I left off. I had made several trips to this facility over the last few weeks, and so I had ran out of places to look. I hadn't taken everything at once, of course, and the armory still held a good reserve of all sorts of goodies. My fingers traced idly over the stock of a M14A1, the most delicious little model in sight. I had several of these hidden around, keeping one on me at all times, and the shooting gallery's were frequented by the sounds of bullet after bullet plugging into the corpses of the dead or incapacitated near-dead I tied up like scarecrows.

    I took my leave to go and make a check of the Humvee I kept constantly tuned and stocked, ready for my escape from this hell hole if time permitted. I had not been plagued with those queer mental itches since before I dozed off. It was strange, to be sure, for that was usually the sign of some other being such as myself, or something of the like. It was even odder that there seemed to be more than one, and one all but drove me insane for a brief while. Well, more insane. I chuckled. But it was strange, and I put it off to my almost desperate need for something not near-dead to talk to. It started slowly, I'm not quite sure what it was. For all I knew I could have been thinking it all day, or just thought of it. Hell I didn't even know what 'it' was.

    But I digest. Er, digress. Jesus this heat is getting to me. Or is it even hot in here? I shook my head, pushing annoying thoughts away from me again. That's about when I made up my mind. I needed a change of pace, some new scenery. I stood and rechecked the back of the vehicle. Water, extra gas, guns, ammo, even a handy little katana and some knives. It wasn't like I needed weaponry, it just felt good. Besides, it beat using my bear hands. I chuckled without any real mirth. "Well, I think it's abou time we left this place, don't you ol' girl?" I said to the Humvee, speaking aloud on purpose this time. That way, it wasn't crazy, right? So I hopped in and started her up, gunning the engine a few times. I lifted a small box, fiddling with it a bit, and grinned. I headed east, no idea why, but the coast sounded nice for now. Nothing like the world ending to give a man the time to go sight seeing. As I passed the city I could hear distant explosions. My parting gift to the fiends of Memphis. Rest in pieces you sons of *****es.

    (And no, I don't mean I leveled the city, just remote charges setup around where the near-dead congregate. I love Marcus <3)
    Last edited by LordKain; 07-01-2009 at 18:36.

  5. #35
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    Our Father in Heaven...

    Prayers were about the only thing I have left in this world. That and my demons. They're still marching behind me in some sick procession, like a march of a funeral, except my funeral doesn't end. I've been shot, several times, in the past week. I've grown sick of human companionship since then, but I'm scared to hell to think if I would survive this apocalypse with no human contact for the rest of eternity, old man that I am, I sought out whatever campfires or shelters I could find. I could speak well enough, but a lot of them were screaming at me to check for open wounds, which I was still aplenty with. My whole body was scarred deeply from wounds suffered recently, and they were understandably scared. One even thought I was a zombie, such was my wounds, but I managed to beg them to reconsider shooting me repeatedly in the head. They thought I was an Immune, somehow able to withstand the curse of undeath through some small miracle of genetics. After sitting in front of their doorstep for the better part of 2 hours in the cold, they finally acknowledged that I wasn't going to turn, and let me in. They asked if I knew how to handle a gun, I told them I could.

    That was 3 days ago, though. See, the problem with humanity is, no matter how much one clings onto civility in the face of terror, something inside humanity always springs up, like a beast from the depths, to match said horror. I made the mistake of telling these people my... predicament, such was my weakness to babble to inquisitive young people. I'd thought that such a thing would make me, well, invaluable.

    I guess it was true to a point. Yesterday, when the mob of zombies came stronger than ever before, they decided to turn tails and flee into the night. They threw me into the horde, because I couldn't die, I could hold them off long enough for them to run. The bastards. Just because I can't die doesn't mean I can't feel the pain, and worse than the others because I didn't have the luxury to be saved from the pain by dying after the initial shock. It just goes on, and on.

    They threw a pipe bomb at me for good measure, too. The bloody, monstrous bastards.

    I managed to pull myself out from the tangled mess of bodies before the stench of blood carried on to attract more predators. My lesson is learned. Never tell them anything. I'm just a bait they can throw to the beasts when it came down to it. After all, I can't die, they aren't murdering me, how can they when I can't die?

    I spent the night in the sewer, as my bones and flesh knitted back into place. I had believed in the good of humanity, but God knows, in this time and age, there was no way for me to find it in them anymore.

    Morning. I crawl out from the city limits. Richmond was my new destination. I had family there once. Maybe I could find them. I doubted my chances, but I had to try.

    Deliver us from evil, our Father, Amen. God had nothing on me now. Not now. Not ever.

  6. #36
    Post Fiend Shari Tana's Avatar
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    Delrana

    As Owen and Ishmael conversed, I made for the hotel rooms. There were abandoned bags and looted rooms, but it took a little while to find something suitable to wear. As it turned out, I managed to find a woman's suitcase tucked away in one of the rooms not ten feet from her skeletal remains. At least now I have proof that the undead are indeed in this town. And enough of them to clean a body, which is to say, at least... three?

    Thier savagery was incredible. I had to wonder where all that flesh goes when they eat it. Even in lycan form I am restricted bythe size of my stomach.

    I popped open the suitcase and sifted through the contents. It was untouched; the clothes still neatly folded and toiletries still in plastic baggies. The woman was young, less than thirty years, or she simply wore clothes one would find on a person of that age. I choose a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I didn't bother with underwear. Changing to lycan form would shred anything made of cotton and a bra would only tighten across my chest, making breathing a chore. Besides, hers were to big. The denim might survive, though. They were also a size too big, but my lower half didn't expand all that much. To finish my look, I took a hoodie with a popular brand across the chest, and a satchel-type bag that apparantly served as her purse, judging from the contents I spilled out of it.

    By the time I got back downstairs, Dora was calling me over. I stopped briefly at one of the trucks and gathered some flashlights. We would likely need batteries at some point, but hopefully some still remained in the store. When I reached the group, I could tell Dora and Ishmael both felt more comfortable in my newfound modesty. Thier decision was to clear the store with only a small group. It made sense. We could go back for supplies after the store was safe. Dora handed us each an uzi and a few magazines. I smirked. I'd never used a gun like this before. As a woman, I didn't participate in frontlines combat during either World War or any other conflict following it. I'd had some experience with a Winchester during the early 1900's, but I'd never really had use for them.

    Angela, on the other hand, was much more than she appeared to be. Her firearm proficienct display moments ago was somewhat disconcerning and reassuring at the same time. One one hand, she could protect herself, on the other hand... what else was she hiding? Perhaps it was hypocritical for me to judge her. After all, I certainly had my secrets.

    The sun slid below the horizon just as we crossed the street to the department store parking lot. "Thirty minutes of twilight," I said as I loaded the gun. We jogged the rest of the way across the lot and I flicked on my light as we reached the doors. The automatic doors lay shattered on the ground on the inside. Apparantly, we weren't the first visitors. Dora was the first to enter, and headed along the wall to the right. The remaining sunlight only penetrated about ten feet before shadows took over. His flashlight waved across the floor as he moved foreward.

    The shopping carts were still neatly in thier holding area as we passed along at a slow, quiet walk. Along the wall, the first location of intrest was a pharmacy. I looked over my shoulder to Ishmael and Angela. I knew little about pharmaceuticals or thier purpose, but someone back at the caravan might have been a pharmacist or doctor in thier past life. Dora and Angela stopped at the door as Ishamel and I entered the pharmacy.

    Ishmael slid over the counter where the perscription drugs were held while I quickly scanned over the generics. The shelves were empty for the most part. There were a couple bottles of cough syrup and some antiacids and such, but nothing special. Still, something was better than nothing, I suppose. I stuffed them in my pack and met Ishmael back at the entrance. His luck wasn't much better.

    "Someone was here before. Most of the drugs are gone, and that means the food is probably pretty scarce too. We should probably check-" I was cut off by a howling screech from somewhere deeper in the store. It was a sound the undead typically made. Somwhere in the store, something large and made of metal crashed to the floor, provoking more howls. Sometimes, it really sucked when I was right. On the up side, mabey whoever entered the store before us was killed before they could make away with all the food. One thing was certain, however. We would probably need more than four to hold back the number of undead that only I could hear.
    "I am the brightest light, for I am darkness. I know everything, for I know nothing. I am a container, brimming with emotion, for I am empty."
    --Bebedora, Arc the Lad

    "Intelligence is the key, and she is locked out." - Josh Sneed, in reference to his ex.

  7. #37
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    Tacca Chantrieri

    OOC: Matt - Noon? Tacca is a vampire, she wouldn't have travelled in bright daylight. At least I tried to get across she was travelling at night.

    IC: I swore heavily inside my mind. A sound out of the familiar had caught my attention and I had reacted, silenced him so that he could not call out, before I had been able to think. He came at me and this time I swore outloud. I should have sensed him, caught his scent. To my surprise it was not for me he had sprung out to get, but Ted. I lept out of the way and up at the roof of the tractor, aiming my gun at him just as he turned to face me. To shout at me.

    "Shut the f-ing up!" I barked back at him loud enough for him to hear me over his own shouting, while thinking of what Ted had been about to tell me. I hope it wasn't anything of importance, but rambling of a man who knows he was about to die. "Do you want every single creature out there knowing where we are?" I continued in a more hushed voice.

    A Lycan, I thought as I looked at him. Animals, all of them, reacting to their animalistic traits, letting their emotions rule without reasoning. Luck must be mocking me to throw a Lycan at me, killing dear Teddy ahead of time. I really did hope that what he was about to tell me had no significance at all.

    "His name was Ted Dokes and now he is no more," I replied when he finally had fallen in silence. He seemed to have gotten the idea, that he had a gun aimed at his head and that it was futile to keep yelling at me. "Let us part ways here and I will leave you breathing still."

    Outside I could hear the familiar feet pattern of the dead. They must have heard him, figuring he would become a nice snack. I couldn't quite make out how many they were though.

    "You have two seconds to make up your mind."

  8. #38
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    OOC: Rensha, don’t be smug about your Catholic knowledge. I’ve never been religious, and therefore remarkably unknowledgeable about these kinds of things. Besides. I google everything.

    Vagrant. I haven't done anything with L. on Ishmael's end as I haven't quite figured out what to do with him. I'm not deliberately excluding him, as I would be glad for however you would like to include him.

    Shari, sorry for the delay. It's kind difficult to come up with 2 page posts for both of my characters on any given day. I shall have something for Ishmael and co shortly.

    - Alice

    Being around the man in the coat reminded me of things. First, there was a sense of nostalgia, unbidden like a delicate sweet scent barely covered by the smell of rot upon the monsters that surrounded. Secondly, it was his masked profile, covered in bandages that cast a sense of wonder, horror, and familiarity all at the same time into me. It wasn’t merely his face, but his arms, his legs, his torso that I could only make out in the dim light.

    He said that he had need of me, his voice cold and bitter and rough all around the edges. It was an archaic way of speaking, I immediately thought and although his voice wasn’t familiar, there was something about the way he said things that most certainly was.

    I thought I knew this man.

    Still, it might’ve just been his effect on me. Something about his powers reminded me of the girl. Jessica. He was slouched, his long darkly bandaged arms stuck out of his tan coat like pillars. Standing there with him, I was certain for a moment that I lost sense of where I was. All of a sudden, I couldn’t see the ring of creatures, but rather a plain field in daylight.

    I need you here, the man in the coat whispered, his gravelly voice making his own illusion distort and bend around the edges. Even in my reverie, I asked the right question: where was here?

    It was a stadium, out in Arizona. An abandoned one. A great enormous nest for the monsters. Yet, it was important. It hid something that the man in the coat could not retrieve.

    I nearly scoffed. What was this? Mysterious old man needing some item to be retrieved? This sounded like a plot from a bad movie. This kind of standoff was particularly usual. He held the upper-hand of course, and I, somehow the hero of this demented story, would need to save the people and outsmart the man.

    The problem was he didn’t know me. He didn’t know I felt no real affinity for the people back there and even as I said no and he threatened to wipe them all out with a wave of one his pillar arms, I felt no fear. Not even the slightest apprehension. Still, something in me made me say yes, that I would do for him this favor.

    He nodded, smiled through his bandages and turned, his monsters following him in a line. We exchanged no phone numbers. I had no idea how to contact him. He merely expected me to fulfill this task. Like he was God. Like I had been anointed. The only thing I really felt was pissed off.

    ---

    - Alice

    As I walked back, I thought of my mother. She was a tall, beautiful, blond aristocratic woman who wanted the best for me in a way that superceded all my own desires. I didn’t resemble her at all, her botox killed off all of the familiy resemblance in her face.

    We were rich, Manhattan elite, except the only real decision I ever made was to abscond all that. I ran away from Yale, shortly after the debutante ball my junior year. The ball was extraordinary though. My mother’s connections practically handed me the position of an escort, matching me up with a delightful young woman named Stella de Triomphe, the daughter of some rich French venture capitalist. Personally, I never thought the French had the balls to do that kind of business.

    Stella, however, wasn’t quite who I thought she would be. At the ball, she was polite, attentive and appreciative of my company. The typical debutante, skilled in mannerisms and demeanor, speech and apparently had a whole list of achievements.

    It was all a lie.

    After the ball, she called me that same night saying that she had ditched the parents to go club hopping and asked if I wanted to join her. I was at a hotel for the night, and at the time, I was sort of dating a girl who had more piercings than skin at Yale, but I agreed to meet up with her. We got drunk. Danced wildly and she took me back to her place.

    Where she bit me and turned me into a vampire. It was better than sex.

    I disappeared that night, not returning back to my studies, though I had always been a night owl of sorts. I stayed with Stella, who introduced me to her family, a practical coven that shed identities like snakeskin. Most of them welcomed me, including her father who turned out to not be French, but actually old-school Roman. A man who went by the name of Milo.

    They weren’t blood-related in the typical sense, but they shared the same blood, the same fortunes made with eternity on their side. It was all very Anne Rice, I thought and despite the training my mother had given me, I felt out of place. Stella had fallen in love with me, hence the whole transformation thing, but I was frightened of her. There was a look that came into her eyes when we made love that made me want to run away.

    So eventually I did. I got back in touch with my mother, who of course, filled the phone line with insults and curses at my being an ungrateful son. It was hardly the sort of moment to be honest about my situation. I also thought that they would hunt her down if I told her the truth, but nothing happened. I disappeared out of Stella’s life and restarted my own. I went back to college after my mother donated a hefty amount to cover up my absence, but I disappeared again only a week back into classes.

    And then I realized why I was thinking about this. The man in the coat reminded me excruciatingly of Milo, who always complained that he would forever be stuck in the afterlife with a slouch. He always smiled as he said it, clapping me on my back. It was generally uncharacteristic of the man. He was a strange sort, enjoyed wearing spectacles even though his vampire eyes would never need them. He dressed like a professor preferring tweed coats and sweater-vests. Still, no one in the family ever doubted his authority or his power. He never had to scream an order, but his shrewd criticisms still cut to the bone. Stella, being a younger vampire, often bore the scars.

    Still, there was no reason, no rational possibility that the bandaged man had been Milo. Milo’s voice used to be pompous, and delicate rather than raspy and threatening.

    I walked back into the bunker and told them what was up. I had offered up some relatively undefined services so that our little fort might be spared. There were protests of course, mostly along the lines of “He could be lying!” To which, I responded that we didn’t really have much of a choice.

    I caught Jessica’s eye. Maybe we had a choice, but I wasn’t going to gamble on it. Besides, if the man really was Milo, then he likely had certain answers I was looking for. He was the escape I was looking for.

    I told them that I would be forming an expedition to help carry out my promise. I told them the truth. That it would be dangerous, unrewarding, and infinitely difficult. I wasn’t sure why I asked anyone to come along as it was likely safer for everyone if I did the whole thing on my own. Still, I cried for aides. People to help my journey.

    I gave Jessica another glance out of the corner of my eye and I realized why I was doing this. I was sparing these people of her. She had to come along the trip.

  9. #39
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    OOC: My apologies, I meant to add 'when I started' to the around noon time comment.

    Spot reserved for revamped post. My last one here was extremely loose based and I've hatched a better idea for my character to embark on, once I get back in a few hours I'll set him off on that quest.
    Last edited by Matthias3690; 06-01-2009 at 02:08.

  10. #40
    Post Fiend Wildfire's Avatar
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    Jessica

    I mustered all the strength I had left to stare back at Alice. I could feel my legs threatening to collapse out from under me. My fingers ached, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I could not let that happen. I must stand tall to those around me. I had to prove I was strong enough. I was not really sure I was. For as long as I can remember, I was an independent soul. I never let any one else tell me who I was; but the real fact was that not even I knew who I was. Even before this whole mess began I searched. I searched for something to claim as my own, that was uniquely mine. Stubbornness did not count.

    To tell the truth I had little faith in Mankind. We were all selfish, greedy, and stupid creatures. We could not be trusted with anything, and always seemed to f**k things up. Knowing these things I never truly fit in. I wished to shy away from the world as I knew it. I would have given anything to run away and never have to deal with another idiotic human again. I thought that would never change. How wrong I was.

    As I watched Alice turn away from me, with an expression I could not read, I realized that the tingling in my fingers continued. However, the feeling was much different than that of the unfortunate souls that had fallen victim to the infection. There was something different about Alice that I had not put my finger on until that very moment. Moments before I could feel every last one of those unfortunate souls as they died, and even after they had succumbed to the infection. They all had been dead. Even the ghost had his own lasting impression. Alice was dead, or so my senses were telling me. Internally I fought against it. How could Alice be the living dead? He talked and moved just as any living creature would. My mind wondered to the vile creatures that were now roaming the land. They too seemed impossible. Alice had the strength like a hoard of them. Then there was the person the ghost had spoken about. It was not possible for some one to be the cause of such a vile infection. I shook my head and remembered what I had created with my own fingers. Everything that was happening seemed to be the impossible. Everything that we as a species have been taught was being ripped apart like the infected on fresh meat.

    A few moments later I was alone, and I nearly did collapse. I slumped over and staggered my way from the court yard. I had to find a place to hide for a while. I feared what was happening, not only to the world, but what was happening to me. Reality had become darker than it had ever been before. Drowning in my own thoughts I started back toward the sleeping area. I didn’t want to go back to my cot, but I thought perhaps I could find an empty bunker.

    My attempts to be alone failed. Before I could even get past the sleeping area, I was confronted by Embrey. I smiled weakly at him; I hoped that he would just keep on walking. He didn’t. It was a brave thing to do, but he reached out and touched my shoulder. It was a timid tough, but a touch none the less.

    “I am terribly sorry, but I would not be alone I were you” He said. I wasn’t sure if he was looking at my stomach or my breasts.

    “And why not?” I nearly growled.
    “There is trouble brewing. Alice has set every one on watch. I think it would be wise if we stayed in a group. Don’t want to b caught alone. You can come with me if you wish” His eyes finally met mine. He was easy to read. There was a mixture of fear and even excitement in his eyes.

    “Alright,” I said with a heavy sigh. This was totally against my better judgment.

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

    As if things were not bad enough, I felt two more members of this already small team die. I could feel it at the very fiber of my being seconds before the first body fell from the guard tower. I screamed and hid behind the only thing I could. I was exhausted, and for a while I forgot that I wanted to be strong. I gripped the back of Embrey’s shirt hiding my face between his shoulder blades. I didn’t dare look up. Not that it would matter. I would feel the infestation long before I would see it. If Embrey minded my touching him, he said nothing.

    Moments passed, and so did the feeling. What ever it was that every one was waiting for was too far away for me to sense. That scared me more than anything else. Fighting my fear I looked up from behind Embrey’s shoulder. I felt Alice way up in the guard tower, and I lifted my head to see him. It was then that Embrey stepped away from me. I whimpered in disappointment.

    “It is ok.” He said as he turned to me for only a moment. Easy for him to say. I clenched my hands into fits. Damn it. I am strong, I lied to myself. I lifted my chin and nodded to him. He walked away and toward the bottom of the guard tower Alice was in.

    When Alice finally came down, he spoke with Embrey. Their exchange of words was quick and to the point, or that is how it seemed since I had no idea what they were saying. Alice went toward the guns and Embrey quickly followed. They exchanged some more words and Alice whispered into Embrey’s ear. Embrey nodded.

    With out another word Alice left. I nearly gasped as he walked right out the front gate. What on earth did he think he was doing? I wanted to yell at him to stay here, but deep down I knew that he had to go. He was the only one who could go. I quickly glanced back over to Embrey who was now ascending a guard tower. I had not a clue as to what was going on. Did I really want to know? Not really. I bit my lip and just waited.

    --------

    It seemed like forever before Alice finally returned, and I wasn’t the only one on edge. Alice told us what happened and that he would be leaving the group. There were protests of course. These people did want the only thing, person, keeping them safe to leave. I didn’t know what I thought. It all seemed to happen so fast.

    Then I noticed Alice kept glancing at me, when he proposition for people to aid him. He said it would be dangerous and unrewarding. Not something I normally would join in on. However, I looked around eye every one in the crowd. Not a single one of them cared about me. All their eyes and thoughts were on Alice. All they thought about was keeping them selves alive. I glance back at Alice and our eyes meet. That happened a lot. My fingers tingled with his unique signature. I could see in his eyes that he wanted me to follow. I did not think I could do so with out knowing exactly what he was. Oh, I knew he was not a threat to me. Some how I knew. He was dangerous that was for sure, but not to me.

    As we looked at each other, I nodded. Before we left I would ask. I would find out exactly what he was before I was left to left defend and depend on him. I bit my lip, then I said, “I will go with you”
    Last edited by Wildfire; 05-01-2009 at 18:42.

  11. #41
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    OOC: Matthias, please message me either through the messaging system available through here, or preferably, email me. My email can be found in my first two posts.

    Wildfire, not a problem. Take your time as I need my own to plot out our next steps. I will also be relatively busier in the next few days.

    GM’s Notes: Everyone, please keep in mind that you should take every post as an opportunity to reveal something new about your character. Or to put it another way, every time you sit in front of your keyboard, get a little more in touch with your character. Find out where he/she is from, what he’s done in his life that makes him act the way he does.

    A good example of this is the first few seasons of Lost, where flashbacks to the past determine their actions in the present. You don’t have to use flashbacks, but they’re certainly a great tool. They’re also really hard to write, I’ve found.

    So far I’ve found all of your characters to be greatly interesting. Some of your writing is better than mine, so please don’t think I’m being presumptuous when I suggest that everyone should be pushing themselves a little harder. I have no intention of taking your hobbies and turning them into jobs, but I’ve found that this is significantly more fun if people put their best into it.

    Also, a reminder: my NPCs don’t live up to their titles as “Non-playable” In fact, they are infinitely playable, so long as you stick to the more or less generic personality I’ve stuck atop them.

    ---

    - Frank Dora (NPC)

    Frank Dora (AKA Dora the Explorer) was used to danger, having spent a lot of his youth in Hollywood as a stuntman, but after a severe back injury he retired to being a pawnshop owner and gun collector. He had been living the life off of his meager income, supplemented by egregious poker winnings before the catastrophe hit. He called it “The Catastrophe” mostly because he liked the sound of it.

    He had become a stuntman when he was only 13, doing the things the pretty boy, child-actors wouldn’t do. And for the most part, he was great at it and by the time he could already drive nearly any kind of car known to man, flip them and still come out alive.

    That’s how he landed his gig as premier driver for the caravan, impressing them as he led them the hell out of dodge, more than once. And it was his second day on the job that his perverse pair of eyes landed their sight upon one gorgeous Delrana, more naked than a girlie magazine.

    It wasn’t out of altruism that made him follow along after the girl and Ishmael. He simply wasn’t scared of a few beasties if it meant that he could play the hero and get some action in the end. Besides, what good was his pair of beautiful, designer Desert Eagles if they were never really fired, right?

    Still, he immediately began cursing under his breath when jailbait (Amy or Andrea, whatever the hell her name was) ran into the dark by herself, shortly after they all heard the obvious treading of the deformities. And while his fool head was wondering why the hell a little girl like her wasn’t scared of the dark, or monsters, Ishmael had dashed in after her, leaving him and the coat woman alone (to Dora, she would forever be “coat woman,” the image of her supple skin behind the cover of her coat was beyond glorious.)

    He gave her a wry smile, as he hunted through his pockets for some smokes, “After you, mi’lady.”

    - Uriel/Ishmael

    I knew there was something wrong with her the moment she fired those shots, but I put it out of my mind as we entered the building. Even an angel must focus on the task at hand.

    We rounded up whatever we could, but the sun set faster than we could fulfill our task, and we heard them long before we saw anything. When the others weren’t looking, Angela blew me a kiss and ran straight for them. All my instincts screamed to run for safety, that I was falling straight into a trap, yet I couldn’t help myself. I ran right after, leaving both Dora and Delrana behind.

    The girl was faster than I was, an impossibility in itself, and I caught up with her firing beautiful, straight shots directly at the skulls of the monsters, but they poured in through some door that likely led down to a warm basement, full of the contorted creatures.

    I didn’t hesitate this time, my hands burned, the flame dashed of its own accord from my palms to the nearest monster, incinerating it within moments. For a brief, brief moment, I relished in the destruction, the death, as it leapt again and again. I was sending these monsters back to where they belonged.

    Until she spoke.

    Her voice was suddenly sultry, dangerous and provocative. It was completely unrecognizable. She called my name, my real name with little hesitation.

    Oh, Uriel. Still playing the hero, are we?

    Raphael, I spoke in return, surprise evident in my voice. Immediately, I wanted to ask more questions. I had not seen my brethren in over a century. I had begun to believe that I was forsaken. That I had been left behind to deal with the Apocalypse. A deluge of anxiety, of confusion rushed through me.

    Uriel, Uriel, he chastised smoothly, her eyes barely blinking as he reloaded and continued shooting. We don’t have a lot of time here. I need you to do me a favor. By me, I mean, us.

    What. What favor, I demanded, rashly, impatient for some answers.

    We need you to seek out a man named Gerald Gade. We need you to recruit him.

    I was thoroughly confused. We were archangels, those that had walked before the very grace of God and we were seeking men? What could a man do that we could not? Since when had this been our duty? Since when had our protocols gone out the window?

    I remembered suddenly that I had never much liked Gabriel. He was always too feminine. Too wily and swift with his gifted tongue. He never had Lucifer’s pride, but still there was always a maliciousness to his nature that seemed chaotic and unnatural. God had always used Gabriel to his advantage, but I would never trust that creature even if I had not been gifted by the presence of God in a long time.

    Still, I could not disobey orders, so long as there was the possibility that they were true.

    How do I find him? I asked, but he gave me a quick wink. Look, and you shall find, he said in her twisted voice. He cast a glance backwards, suggesting that the others were making their way towards us. Gotta go, friend, he said with a wistful tone and vanished from her body, causing Angela to collapse unto her knees.

    I extinguished my fire in order to pick her up and stumbled backwards, hopefully towards help. She blinked up at me, awareness awakening in her. I could not easily hold her and cast my fire about. Instead, I kept crawling backwards, my eyes sweeping the darkness. Some had become wary of us as two of us had killed over two dozen of them, but still more crept forward on their misshapen hands and toes.

    I took a moment to pray.

    OOC: Exactly how much you see is up to you, Shari.

  12. #42
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    OOC: For some reason, it double-posted and now it won't let me delete this post. Does anyone have any ideas? Submit 'em by messaging system, please. Thanks.
    Last edited by Arkady; 04-01-2009 at 05:12.

  13. #43
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    Dominic

    I took a nice, long drag of my cigarette, delighting in the moment as it's nicotine washed over my senses, and I closed my eyes in brief bliss. Then, I popped another of the undead between the eyes. My back was to the Hummer, not the best spot to be in, and I cocked and fired off a few quick rounds. I have already burned through two mags with the 9mm I was using, I hadn't yet had the chance to ditch it for the shotty just an arm's reach away. They were trickling, thank God, from a nearby gas station. It seemed like the place should have burst from how many were coming out of it.

    My thoughts trailed back to how I got into this mess, as one's mind always does at the worst times. I had been heading down 44 towards Springfield. I had a few hours left of sunlight, plenty of time to get to the city and scope things out. The bag next to me was opened and I had started to rummage for something quick to eat. Right about then is when it happened. I don't know what I hit, but I was sure that if it was not dead before it was now. My head cracked on the steering wheel, knocking me out, but as luck would have it, if you can call it luck, I stopped not far from a roadside gas station. Must have been a hundred feet off the highway, I can't even explain that one. I woke up just as dusk set in, and hauled ass out of the damn car. The first thing I noticed was that there was incredibly little damage to the Hummer. The next, of course, was two flat tires. Jesus I knew these things are made to drive without tires, if you really have to, but it didn't help my chances right then. So I set about changing the first, keeping an eye on the only structure nearby. I managed to get the first done and second jacked up in record time, but that was when I heard the tell-tale sounds of those demented souls. Crap. My hands flew with a surge of adrenaline as I saw the first come shuffling from the doors. It was quickly followed by another.

    At that moment I was struck with incredible luck and I rolled against the Hummer to the right. My arm flashed into the window of the vehicle and withdrew the shotgun. Perfect. The next monster almost seemed to hesitate, as if it suddenly thought 'Great, this is not gonna be good.' It's head disappeared in a fountain of gore, splattering the side of the Hummer as I rotated and shot the next three lurching towards me. I was hit from behind, my dumb ass decided to get fancy and sidestep from the car, and hit the ground, rolling under the Hummer as I clutched the shotgun. A well aimed shot took out the thing's kneecap, the next it's neck. I popped up on the other side, blasting the last loaded shot threw both open windows. I had a clear view of the station now, and managed a smile as I saw nothing else emerging. Course, that meant I still had about a half-dozen left to take care off. All in a day's work, I guess. I swear, killing demons was never this bad.

    I popped the passenger door and withdrew a long knife and another handgun, as I had lost the other when I kissed the ground. I was tasting blood from where I was now aware I had mashed the inside of my lip. Nothing serious, no infection as long as I didn't kiss one of them. I looked up as one leaped onto the Hummer, lunging for me. Dodging I opened up it's spine like a fish for dinner and looking around. They were coming around the same side of the car. Damn and I thought it never happened like in the movies. I raised my gun, dropping the lead zombie and causing another to hit the ground, not dead but momentarily incapacitated, which tripped up the one behind it. My gun went off again and again, there was one standing. -click- -click- I looked at the gun in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?!" the words burst from my lips, ludicrously hilarious to anyone who could have been watching, "Who the **** loads half a ****ing clip!" I dived backwards as the last of them pounced. Wait, lemme make sure I saw that right. The damn things pounced on my like a cat! It hit my boots and I kicked hard, connecting with a shoulder and then a jaw. Howling in pain it struggled up, moving surprisingly faster than it's brethren. But I, too, was at my feet, and this time I lunged. With a cry that would make Rambo himself proud I lanced the hunting knife through the beast's heart, jerking upward with a surge of strength and slicing upward to it's neck. With a great gurgling gasp it fell, twitching a foot here and there until I crushed it's neck with my heel.

    After checking that nothing else was stumbling, or flying, my way, I scrubbed my face with my hands. "You really know how to keep me on my toes, don't you?" I grumbled into my hands, raising my head skyward. "You old asshole." I said and unceremoniously flipped off the sky. Now that the immediate danger was over I realized my head was pounding like a sonofa*****, but I got set on finishing the other tire. Minutes later I stood and packed the gear back away, and managed to find that gun to boot. What I really wanted was to catch a few hours of sleep, but I knew the night had just begun. Good thing I had plenty of smokes.

    (Notes:
    Ark - I don't think you can :V I used to just ask a mod in their thread to do it for me *shrugs*
    offtopic: dl Folding@Home and other distributed computing project stuff. Help the world!
    ps - weeeee need sleeeeeeepz)
    Last edited by LordKain; 07-01-2009 at 18:53.

  14. #44
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    OOC: Reserved for forthcoming post. Arkady I'm going to send you some stuff about L. so we can work out how to interact with him and Uriel a little better.

  15. #45
    Post Fiend Shari Tana's Avatar
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    Delrana

    Most people with at least a basic sense of rationality, wouldn't charge headlong into almost certain death. So it was with some suprise that I witnessed Angela do just that. Sure, she shot out a few lights on a stationary traffic light, but these ghouls were not often known to lay down and die after a single shot, even one which would be otherwise fatal to a human. In fact, they were more often known to fall over, seemingly dead, only to rise again minutes later.

    Frank Dora and I watched in stunned silence for a few seconds before he lit a cigarette and we ran in after them. Ishmael's mysterious fire turned a few of the zombies into temporary light sources. It seemed brighter than normal fire, but perhaps it was simply the utter blackness surrounding us. I dropped my flashlight and gripped the Uzi with both hands, opening fire into whatever growling, decayed face that presented itself. Ishmael was dragging the foolish Angela back towards the doors with Frank and myself slowly backpedaling to cover them.

    However, we had the misfortune of being a in a large dark building with more than one angle of attack. As my first magazine ran dry, I shot a look over my shoulder. The ambient light of the moon ouside outlined the exit. There was no telling how many of these things there were. Jonesboro wasn't a large city, but it had at least a few thousand residents. For all I knew they were all in here, hiding in the back and in the stockroom, away from the sun. Our attempts to slow them were certainly not stemming the tide very much.

    By the time I pulled the bolt to load my second magazine, Ishmael had Angela over his shoulder, but my lack of cover fire while reloading brought the enemy that much closer. Frank's pistols ran dry, and he ran behind a cash register booth to reload. I began firing again, but even with the dozens we killed, my slight nightvision could see dozens more pushing through the asiles. We didn't have the firepower to take them all out, I realized. I only had three magazines and the second was soon empty. Frank popped up from the booth as he reloaded and gave a defiant yell at the mob as he tossed a suprise grenade into them. It exploded, sending a small ball of fire into the air along with shraphnel and undead body parts.

    My second magazine ran dry, and I stopped. Last clip. I could feel my veins expanding as my blood pressure rose. My heartbeats were thunderclaps in my ears. My breaths became harsh and fast as my lungs expanded. At least these few people got to see the woman behind the monster before I alienated myself from them again. My eyes began to burn as they became bloodshot. I slammed the bolt on the Uzi to load my last clip. Holding down the trigger, I unloaded fully automatic as my muscles bluged and my limbs extended. The Uzi jammed, and I hurled it into a zombie, the muzzle entering what was left of its brain through its mouth.

    I broke for the door behind Frank and Ishmael. Frank was still firing, but stopped as I reached him and made for the door as well. The bloodrage inside me was still threatening to release, but by sheer willpower I held back the transformation. We were sprinting across the parking lot, a retreat fueled entirely by adrenaline. Owen and a group of others were running towards us. The sentries on the roof of the hotel were firing shots at the mob behind us with thier scoped hunting rifles. Owen took Angela from Ishmael when we met up, and the seemingly aged man turned back towards the hundred or so remaining dead literally with fire in his eyes.

    I kept running back towards the hotel. Seeing the fury in his gaze instilled an emotion in me completely foreign to lycans. Fear.
    "I am the brightest light, for I am darkness. I know everything, for I know nothing. I am a container, brimming with emotion, for I am empty."
    --Bebedora, Arc the Lad

    "Intelligence is the key, and she is locked out." - Josh Sneed, in reference to his ex.

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