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Thread: Desolé

  1. #76
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    OOC: I’m leaving my previous post up, because I believe they were valid concerns and don’t necessarily pertain to just LK. He just happened to catch me on a bad day.

    Shari, I apologize for my liberties, but as the GM and having mentioned the style of RPing that I’ve laid out in this thread, this is something that you should expect. If you are unhappy with liberties that either I or anyone else takes, you have the right to correct them in your following posts, or to address specifically what was wrong in OOC or PM. I would be happy to edit or correct such issues in my following posts.

    On another note, I particularly like the direction you decided to take.

    LK, I would prefer if you didn’t take a defensive tone.

    My primary suggestion is that you be clearer and more specific about everything. Even though this is first person, clarity is one thing that should not be sacrificed, especially when working with other people. We do not have the time or energy to puzzle anything out, or to guess and be wrong about anything.

    Especially because we are RPing in first-person, that gives us the extraordinary chance to be internally conscious about EVERYTHING, including but not limited to our abilities. Please take that into consideration in your following posts.

    Even if you already posted a detail, it does not hurt to post it again, and in first-person there are infinite casual ways to incorporate them.

    Also, Dominic sensed when Uriel burns down a building 200 miles away, but does not sense when he took a huge city off the map?

    IC:

    - Alice

    Junction City was quiet, with the exception of Embrey fidgeting in the backseat. We took the roads around the center of the city to avoid the death-filled hulls of vehicles and office buildings that seemed to leer at us with every broken window.

    Our adrenaline cooked our blood as our eyes weighed each shadow cast by our headlights as some new mass of horror ready to tear apart our bones. Jessica sneezed in the passenger seat and Embrey hiccupped in response. Though neither Na’ila and I jumped, the look on her face told me exactly what I was thinking. We couldn’t afford very sudden noises.

    In times like these, I didn’t feel very immortal at all.

    We had nearly circled the entire city before we came upon another sign. This one didn’t say much more than the first. “Look for the light!” There was an arrow and some scrawled nearly unreadable directions. I would’ve preferred a map.

    The directions took us exactly where we had been avoiding, the inner guts of the city. I personally thought whatever survivors were holed up here were morons, especially when I saw the traffic piled up in a dead end on a main street. The directions indicated that we needed to press beyond it just a few more blocks.

    “****,” I said, melancholic.

    Embrey finally voiced what we were all thinking. “Why the hell are we risking our hides for these people?” Certainly, it was a far cry from when he had done the prompting. I kind of wanted to slap him upside the head.

    But it was Na’ila who spoke in a cool whisper. “Because we’re meant to be here.” I never would’ve pegged the punk-rock Middle Eastern girl to be much of a fatalist and the way she said those words made me feel forlorn and a little hopeless. “Meant to be here?” Those words made it seem as if I didn’t have much of a choice in all this.

    We strapped on weapons, of course. Na’ila had a slew of pistols, I still had my shotguns, and Embrey had a rifle. I waited for Jessica to choose something out the trunk, though I had the idea that she didn’t really need the weapon. Whatever she was, whatever she could do was significantly stronger than any contraption of metal and gunpowder. It was just a matter of whether or not she could just as easily pull the trigger.

    We walked through the mess of the city slowly, picking our way partly by instinct, mostly by fear. For a while, nothing came at us, until we wandered into the intersection. I was pissed because we were only about a block away from “The Light.” Hell, Embrey even saw it with those sharp eyes of his: a glowing sign for a bar, of course, titled, “The Light.”

    When the monsters descended upon us, we climbed the burnt cars for the little bit of height advantage and distance that might give us the edge. IN the meantime, I cursed whatever deity was up there and writing this all down. I wanted to criticize them for letting us die in such a trite and boring way. I felt like some stupid videogame character.

    OOC: Now would be a great time for some sort of rescue/aid/calvary, SoHee or Matthias. Though two at the same time would be less than superbly believable.

  2. #77
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    Surfer boy's leg was the last part of him to go down. Tasted pretty good...really good actually. Best thing I'd eaten since...since. 'When did I eat anything aside from those ugly things?' I thought to myself but I didn't even have time to remember as he thought back to me. 'The deer in the forest back in Washington.' My eyes shot wide. 'Wow...that was a bit ago.' I shifted my gaze over to Ted and started grinning. "Man I'm glad I finally get to..." But that familiar sound cut me off mid sentence. My ears and nose twitched. Turning towards the street and leaning my head out I could hear and smell them better.

    It was a group of...well a group. Too many and too clustered to distinguish numbers. Those ugly things were on the move again, about a block or 2 away. The next scent hit me like a ton of bricks. Another smell like Ted and that woman...but only in the sense of probably a vampire. 2 or 3 others with him seemed to be slightly panicked. That just means they're the ones those things are deciding to attack. My stomach growled...followed shortly by my friend in my head. 'Those things are starting to get tastier every day...and that group might be able to take us to better food. So if we help them, they might feed us better.' The tone of him talking already told me he was grinning like a son of...well grinning if he had his own...nevermind now I'm grinning for him. 'I get you.' I thought in response as I picked up my bag and hoisted Ted over my shoulder.

    I walked a couple buildings down before the street was cluttered with cars. I noticed one that seemed out of place...and still smelt like that group. Had to be theirs. Placing my bag on the trunk and Ted leaning against it on the ground, I rolled my shoulders. "This'll be fun." I growled, already telling the other voice to be quiet so I could concentrate. 'You know...they might be here to kill you. You did piss off that chick slightly, and your carrying a dead vampire around.'

    Shaking my head I waited for a second. 'You could...shut up. That's a little too paranoid. I'm not that crazy just yet.' Crouching next to a van, I crept towards the car keeping out of sight of them and hopefully out of scent of those bastards. I didn't want them to notice me before I wanted them to. Finally getting to the next car, there were about 20 of them that I could count right away that were rushing the car, trying to get to them as they stood atop waiting to fend them off. Growling, my friend let out a roar in my head as I sprung forward, surprising 5 of them as I clawed, ripped and tore them to pieces before tackling another group behind a vehicle. Hopefully I'd moved quick enough to not completely get seen by the people on the car. Seconds later I emerged from the other side and repeated procedure to kill the rest. Well I thought it was the rest, a couple growls told me they weren't done yet as my friend kindly told me to turn the hell around.

    I was too busy eating a couple of them to notice that 3 of them decided to sneak up on me. They tackled me into the open...well open meaning view of the people on the car as I was clawed and scratched. Grabbing one by the head, I removed it from the rest of it's body and threw that clump aside. My feet dug claws into the one trying to rake my stomach open, launching him into the car directly next to the people and the final one was biting my shoulder. Turning onto my side I grabbed it by the throat and rolled to my feet, holding it in the air. Squeezing it's neck until it snapped, which only took a quick second, I tossed it aside as I glanced down at myself. 'Way to go. Now your bleeding pretty good.' He said snarling. 'Shut up...they'll heal in a minute.' I thought back as the wounds slowly started closing, not exactly quickly or painlessly but the bleeding would stop momentarily.

    Realizing how I was after this short few seconds of standing lycan form, blood splattered from those things I raised both arms passively and looked forward at them. 'This'll be an interesting story...hopefully the vampire speaks before one of them shoots or this could be a painful get away.' I thought as he reminded me 'If you get shot, I'm in control and getting us back to Ted then somewhere to eat him.'

    "I know...I know." I spoke out loud...which sounded low and growling. My eyes flickered wide for a split second before I thought of what to say. "I know I might appear...scary. But I mean you no harm." I said as sincerely as someone who just got their stomach and chest clawed partly open and shoulder bitten several times could muster.
    Last edited by Matthias3690; 17-02-2009 at 04:48.

  3. #78
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    (Ark, I didn't mean to sound quite so defensive. That wasn't my position in all of that, merely explaining the points you brought up. Far as I knew, as still feel, it all made decently logical sense. But we're past it now, so that's fine. As for the Miami Incident, well it's pre-story so it's like a loophole in a book or movie haha. I'll try for reposting details like that. I do take fro granted that things will get remember, I suppose. No harm done.)

    At first I could tell that Rachael did not realize her blunder. For that matter, I had not even thought of something like that to be so. Perhaps if I had known she had kept it I would have stopped her. But perhaps not. I have no idea, nor would it benefit me to dwell on it. I could see it, however. The gift of my curse. It was subtle to the mortal eye, but I could see the faint tightening of his face. The way the depths of his eyes glimmered with the feeling of disappointment. Once he continued, however, my young charge realized her mistake. "Oh.. oh! Oh I'm, um... I'm sorry." she said with obvious embarrassment, a soft coloring of of her face.

    He brushed away her concerns more or less gracefully, which I couldn't fault. "N-no. No, it's yours, I suppose." she said as it was offered back to her. That was when I found out one more thing which inevitably reminded me of my dear sweet Rose: Rachael had a way of biting her lip which was profoundly cute. I sighed mentally, not letting a trace of it cross my face lest someone ask questions. Which would likely happen anyways, given that I had remained silent and unmoving since leaving the Hummvee, save for proffering my name. Oddly enough, Damion went on a tangent about some old video game, which looking back I suppose it seemed slightly fitting. Strange fellow, though, that one.

    The other girl spoke up again. My attention turned once more to her. She was an intriguing little thing, I could tell already. I kept wondering how I must seem to either of them, silent and opposing in the face of meeting survivors. Survivors. Yes, I suppose that is the best word for them. For us. Anyone left alive should be included in that. Rachael shook her head solemnly in response. "I have no idea. No clue why this happened." she sighed softly, "I was on my own by the time Marcus found me. I... haven't heard anything about this whole thing that anyone else wouldn't know..." I suddenly found that she was leaning back against me. Without a conscious though about it, my hand was placed upon her shoulder in a comforting sort of way. I saw their eyes flick from Rachael to myself and back. Don't know what they may have thought, but momentarily my apparent impassiveness was broken. Well, not the time to let them start asking questions.

    "It is almost dusk. We should go." They looked a little surprised when I spoke, even though my words were low and soft in my throat.

    "Yes... yes. We can take you to wherever you stay, it'll be quicker. Right?" Rachael offered and looked at me questioningly. I gave a short nod to the group. We waited to see what they would say.

  4. #79
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    I'm not the sentimental type. She handed the note back and I held it for a while anyway. Marcus was a weird one, but we all are these days. Not that I'm any better for that matter either. He was quiet at first. I think it was just his way. I'm no songbird, but I'm not particularly stingy on my words either. Rachael leaned against Marcus, a sort of protector thing I started to see with Lilly too. It happens. I think it's in-born. Men trying to protect and women trying to be protected. I think that it happened when everything was normal probably to a higher degree. You could argue from a statistical standpoint that you were as likely to die in those days as you are today. Then again, most people died due to some unknown sudden threat, so it just didn't seem to be much more chaotic until someone made up a system of government.

    At the moment of the meeting, I was alpha. I realize now that Marcus was unbeknownst to himself trying to take that away from me, and I from him. Again, in-born. We can't help it; no matter what we turn into, we're men. Lilly has her own thoughts on that. But she always said I was a born leader. If just because I don't like following.

    He sort of startled me though, the statue he was. Tense and looking like he was ready to snap if he saw an undead little baddie. Something about it being dusk. "Sure," I replied to Rachael. "Though you'll have to leave it on the street level unless you want to go under the ramp. I think in an escape scenario, even though we'd be on foot a little longer, it would be a lot more to our advantage to have it already be above ground. It's worked the past day or so for us." I shrugged, "We were just looking for food and having a walk while it's nice out."

    I crumpled the paper and tossed it aside. It blew in the wind a few moments as it caught the paper in a gust and I could see Lilly's eyes trace it a second. The next thing I saw her eyes do was cast me a slightly venomous stare. It only lasted a moment, but she saw I was giving up on my family. I wasn't, I just thought it was pointless. For all I know, it has a better chance of it rolling to their feet in Savannah as it has in my home.

    I guided Marcus, who seemed to have been to Savannah before, down to the river and next to the old abandoned (before the apocalypse, as I call it) power station, or factory, or whatever it was. I pointed to the rigged barge and he nodded very slightly. I assume in approval. "It has beds," I said. "But we've been sleeping in the bridge 'cause it's got the best view on the banks. A pair of binoculars too." I waved and smiled, "Come on up. They've got booze and cards if you want to pass time." Mostly directed to Marcus. "We can go for Florida tomorrow. I need some warm rays to relax. I also think there's more firepower and animals to hunt there. I heard the deer were out of control."

  5. #80
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    ooc: Bumpage. Just gettin the thread back up to the top again, hopin for a chance to post again :)

  6. #81
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    Tacca Chantrieri - Junction City, Kansas

    Captain Adam Jones, what a tool you are, I thought as the man began to shout out orders to his men. However, my mind warned me to feel amused by the situation just yet. He could still change his mind. I relaxed a bit when he ordered his men to stand down, and even more so when they cleared a path for me. I resisted the urge to sink my teeth into his thick neck, I hadn't had a proper meal for days, and instead I threw him at the nearest soldier. Without giving them a chance to close the gap I leapt through the now open circle and went down the dark street with a speed that no mortal could match. I could hear Jones still shouting orders to his men, but none that told them to follow me. Apparently he still believed what I had told him. With any luck they would hunt down the Lycan and leave me alone.

    Alone, that was exactly what I was now, I realised as I stopped running after a while. I had left the humans behind, they were probably going in the opposite direction by now, tracking down what was left of Ted Dokes. A gnawing feeling inside began to grow inside of me. A feeling I couldn't quite shake off. I wasn't really sure what it meant. Something was just, off. I sprinted a couple of hundred meters, as if I could leave the feeling behind. Somehow I felt lost, even though I knew exactly where I was. My task was done. Dokes was dead. I had no reason to linger here in Junction City anymore. I should return to the city of Angels, to Miriam. Even if I knew what I ought to do I hesitated. What were my reasons for going back? I fingered at the bag Ted had given me so freely. What where I to do with it? Return with it to Miriam? She did not need it, or otherwise she would have told me to bring it back to her. No, it was probably not the only sample that she had. Giving it back to her might mean my own demise in the end. I knew Miriam well enough that the cure, if it ever was perfected, would not reach the streets. I could return it to her, of course, hoping to win her favour. Even so, the sample felt too valuable to just hand back, even if it was to its original owner. If Dokes had told the truth, perhaps what I held in my hand was the very thing that would determine the future of us all.

    OOC: well I didn't want to crash Ark/matt party, since it wouldn't be very plausible for her to just run into them all, but it would be nice with some more interaction soon.. :)

  7. #82
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    I had relinquished control of the gathering to Damion without a second thought. My mind was alight with our recent experiences, and even though the night thrilled me I felt it better if they were safe. Well, I'll be honest, I only really cared that Rachael was safe. I had no interest in the others, short of the companionship they offered, and frankly I shouldn't have had any in Rachael either. But so it was, and so I let Damion conduct things for now. After all, it wasn't like I knew of any place to hide. My head cocked slightly as Damion spoke, nodding. "Sounds fine." Short, to the point. My style lately, it seemed.

    As I returned to the Humvee to push some things from the seats he tossed aside the paper. It was useless now, I knew, and so I didn't fault him. Rachael's eyes caught it, watching as it spun slowly in the breeze. I hoped she wouldn't be hurt by that. I'm not a monster, I have feelings despite what Hollywood claimed about my race. Foolish mortals and their books and theories and such garbage. I shrugged off the thoughts and pulled a few things from the bench seat in the middle. Luckily most of what I brought fit in the covered backend. Mostly food was in the back, for Rachael's benefit even though I had easily masked that I wasn't eating. It wasn't much and I stashed it behind the seat so they could get to it easily. Rachael and Lily came around the other side and slid onto the seats, apparently they had started up a little talk on themselves. I said nothing as I got in front with Damion.

    Guided by his instructions I sped through the city, eventually coming up on the waterway where they had been staying in a barge of some sort. I parked outside, facing the clearest direction we could escape in if need be, and helped Rachael out of the back. She smiled. I smiled back and for a moment just stood there. Her elbow nudged me in the side as she walked past "C'mon." Oh, God, Rose.... I grabbed a handy duffel stashed with some weapons and ammunition and the lone M16A4 I had pulled out of the base with. Loved those rifles in the service. Slinging it over my shoulder I looked over at Damion and we followed behind the girls. "I don't drink." I said quietly to his comment, but after a moment I added "Cards will work though. Florida's decent this time of year."

  8. #83
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    OOC: I am back.

    IC:

    I had been hunting for the boy for six days before I found him cowering behind a shed. He flung things at me. Meaningless, foolish things that did not hurt me. A demonstration of his power. I was not worried until I was struck with the knife. I could not be sure where he found it. But it stuck in my side, deep and unpleasant in its stern, forbidding pain.

    I did not know his name, so I said nothing to assuage his poltergeist rage. Instead, I ordered the others to seize him. They obeyed with little delay, sweeping over him in a dense invisible fog that only I could see. They yelled things as they pinned him down.

    I left the knife in my side. Instead, I wandered forward with my tools so that I might attend to my task. Three vials I had, but I would only need two of them. I pulled out the needle, and blessed it so that it might sink into his ghost skin.

    Loyalty. And fear. I used the needle twice, instilling this ghost with the essence with which I might manipulate him.. He would protect me against those that would prevent my experiments. He would grow to vast and powerful proportions. I named him Grendel.

    - The diary of Gerald Gade


    ---

    OOC: Matthias, a minor complaint. I have no idea what you were doing with “surfer boy,” as you failed to explain his significance (if he had any). Also, you’re verging on power RPing, or at least you’re making it look too easy. As a werewolf, your character, obviously has some very significant capacity that extends beyond most of which we’re familiar with. However, if you could at least put some effort into describing the physical effect of slaughtering dozens of zombies, that would make things seem at least a little more realistic. Nothing comes without consequence.

    Also, you left very little room for any of us to do anything.

    - Alice

    Of course, we leveled our guns at the brute. None of us were particularly sure all our guns could stop the werewolf, considering that it had torn through our dense situation like a mack truck through the first little pig’s house of straws. I’m mixing metaphors, probably because I recall how terrified I was.

    This wasn’t the apprehension that we had previously felt in our little isolated town when we were faced with mysterious figures in strange circumstances. This was, “oh ****, I really don’t’ want to be eaten.” It was much more straightforward.

    None of us were foolish enough to fire our weapons, though I could see Embrey quivering out of the corner of my eye. Jessica also seemed quite afraid. The only one of us that didn’t seem scared was little Nai’la, who happened to be the closest.

    Instead, she asked questions, “Who are you?”

    I wanted to tell her that it was stupid to talk to a werewolf. Almost as stupid as pissing it off with our guns, but just as I was ready to give the order to run like hell, and leave him with the remaining offenders, he turned and gave all of us a very sentient look.

    It was the kind of look you might expect from a dog when you mention going out for a walk. He obviously recognized what we were saying, though, I doubted that he could speak with that mouth of teeth, and … teeth.

    I stepped forward a little, defying the part of my mind that begged me to reconsider my survivability, but a higher sense of some duty or obligation kept me from stepping back. I had never tangoed with a creature of the night other than Stella (and that wasn’t the kind of tangoing that might happen here, for certain). Perhaps I’d be able to hold my own, but I really didn’t want to try. The diplomatic approach would perhaps be best.

    I lowered my weapons.
    Last edited by Arkady; 23-03-2009 at 00:04.

  9. #84
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    ooc: I apologize for that, I was thinking of zombies being easy to kill in small groupings of 2-3 at a clip so I didn't explain much. After re-reading I realized that and will go into better detail about it.

    IC: 'Kill them! They're about to fire!' Screamed inside at me. Yelling his thoughts like insults and I was idiotic not to listen. But one spoke up, the smallest girl seemed unafraid at all. Like this sort of thing happened to her everyday. 'Kill her first! Somethings not right with that one. Then kill the rest!' He continued screaming. For the first time in my life, I realized something about my other half...he had the ability to take control. Slightly, my left arm began to lower like I was about to slash something. Before he could do anything, I took both arms and laid them towards my sides.

    'What was that?' I asked him 'When did you learn to do that?' Silence was the answer I received, maybe he didn't fully know how to yet and just accidentally did it. He had to be unsure of what just happened either. I could've leapt for joy that this group of people, the first I'd seen in a while, started lowering weapons. Well one of them anyway. That's gotta be a start for something. Then I remembered the girl asked me a question. "Who am I?" I asked back...which to them probably seemed more like a growling speech than a person simply asking. I had to think for a moment...who was I really? Was I the murderous lycan they had just seen? Was I something more leniant for helping them? What was the answer? I really wasn't sure myself.

    "My name is Lucious. Luke works." I spoke finally after the few moments of awkward silence. I realized the adrenaline was gone at this point, glancing down showed the extent of my wounds. They weren't healing overly quick either...actually they weren't at all. My surprise wasn't hidden as I went wide-eyed slightly before clutching my stomach with my left hand, holding the injury to stop the bleeding. 'More serious than I thought I guess.' I thought trying to get my other half to say something again, but he was still silent.

    All the injuries were still bleeding and open, obviously deeper than I originally thought. Damn adrenaline mislead me. Blinking a few times and I also realized how tired I was. I hadn't gotten a good amount of sleep in at least a week. That mixed with the low amount of eatable food I've been living off of made me rethink some things. My abilities were lowering from lack of taking care of myself. Ted would have to be eaten alot sooner than I'd originally thought. If I don't get a decent amount of food pretty soon, these wounds might take too long to heal and I could bleed out. Doing some quick math in my head 'I should be good if I eat him in the next 10 minutes or so, don't want to randomly run off too quick.'

    The growling tone in my voice faded as I got used to speaking in this form again as I spoke "What brings you to this place? It's been empty for a bit." Thinking about where I left Ted and my things for a minute; I figured that after a couple minutes of easing the tension, I could eat Ted and change back to save my energy until I could get some real sleep and real food in me.

  10. #85
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    OOC: Matthias, great recovery. I'll get back to our scene with the next post.
    LK, I’m going to see if I can’t roll with this.

    Argh. I couldn’t remember Owen’s last name. Took me forever to find it.

    IC: Owen Lancaster (NPC)

    Owen was too tired to deal with formalities. He hadn’t slept in about three days and the mess that was currently ensuing did not make it appear that he would be getting any more sleep any time soon.

    “Who the hell are you?”

    Signing up for the Army, reserves or otherwise, cursing became a pre-requisite to all the other forms of training. A gun only intimidates as well as the man who bears it.

    “Listen, we run a tight-ass ship. I have no idea what your business is but we have no reason to assume that it’s for our benefit. You’d better tell us the truth, or we’ll just toss your ass right back out onto the highway.”

    He was serious. He wasn’t serious. Even in these times of crisis, Owen didn’t really have the heart of a soldier. There was something about this man that bothered him, but he couldn’t tell if these were soldierly instincts. Everything bothered him these days. It bothered him, of course, that Ishmael had burned out their best hope for supplies. It bothered him that he had no idea who Ishmael was. Or Delrana. And even the way Frank had stormed out earlier with little explanation (“for a smoke!”) with a jeep and a pair of his uzi’s.

    Still, it didn’t help anything to keep from being cautious. He had a gun strapped to his belt, and although he didn’t like the idea of killing a fellow man in a world with so few, he still stood for the good of the many. A moral dilemma, if he had not already made his decisions.

    ---

    - Ishmael/Uriel

    We need to move, I said this to no one in particular as I exited the room. Angela had awoken and was sipping on some instant coffee. She followed me as I made my abrupt way through the hotel, knocking on doors. We need to move, I shouted.

    In my dreams, I remembered burning down all of Miami. It wasn’t like the slow burning flame that still raged in the morning over the remains of the shopping center. It had been a great fire, magnificent in its breadth and instant in its consumption. I burned so bright and quickly that I extinguished myself in the same moment. I spread out and pulled in, such a sharp gasp of breathe that stole life and what life had created. Nothing remained but the dust of buildings, of monsters.

    The people that filed through their halls of the motel, covered in blankets and heavy leather coats threw curious frightened glances in my direction. They refused to look upon my face as I shouted my warnings. Instead, their gazes focused upon my hands, as if expecting the fire to burst forward from them at any moment. I ignored this ignominy. I changed my tactic. Where is Owen? I cried.

    In the silence of the aftermath, when I felt lost and tired, hazy in my senses, I still became aware that I was being followed. It wasn’t the dull sinking feeling of those ravaged creatures. Those that might have survived would have fled. Even they could smell that this death was unlike anything they had ever faced in the streets. Instead, it was a sharp pang that jabbed at my spine where my kidneys were. It was unfamiliar to me. This kind of presence that flowed everywhere. Yet, I saw nothing. I became vigilant in my perusal of the surroundings, especially as I left the gaping, smoky emptiness that was now Miami.

    The people in the halls eventually pointed my way to the office building near the front. I didn’t bother to knock. I burst in brutally, unconsciously almost tearing the door off of its hinges.

    We need to talk, I said to Owen, the errant knight. Bright blond Owen of the close-cropped hair and the furrowed brow.

    Owen instead looked at the man he was interrogating. I did as well and had a brief moment of recognition. The stranger was another knight of sorts, but not the majestic kind. The kind that defies fate, that scorns his sacrifice in a land of sacrifice. He smoked openly, and his sharp eyes gave me the indication that he was looking for something here. I hid my presence from him. I had no time for his interruption, whatever his plans were. Whatever God’s plans were. There were much more dangerous things out there, even in the daylight, than the devils that humanity had turned into.

    Three days out of Miami, I was beset by them. I had recovered enough strength to defend myself, but not enough avoid harm. They were faster than anything that I had ever faced, fading out of reality with a blink and back in with another. They threw things, anything they could find. And their faces, anguish filled to the point that they continually sobbed and let forth their spectral tears.

    They were the ghosts of the dead. Who was I to banish them? I took flight, for they could not pursue me in the air. I did not want to be the one to put them at rest, for it was I who had slain them.

    Owen followed me outside and I closed the door tightly afterwards, leaving the stranger behind. I spoke in terse whispers, fearful of being overheard. There are things out there, Owen, that will come because of the flames. It was my fault, but we need to leave here.

    Owen nodded, a quick bopping up and down of his nervous head. That might be true, he said, but we still need some time to grab whatever remaining supplies we have scrounged up. We still need time to fuel the trucks.

    I scoffed. What have you been doing all night, then? I asked with abrupt derision.

    He glared back, unafraid. We were cleaning up your mess, Ishmael. We’ll be out of here by noon. That’ll give us around 6 hours to get to our next destination.

    I nodded. In that moment, I admired him. He stood up to the fire of God without flinching.

    ---

    - Frank Dora (NPC)

    He was smoking, but he was also hunting. The boroughs of Jonesborough, Arkansas teemed with the undead, and his uzis just ate them up. Nom. Nom. Nom. Hello sir, how are you today? Would you like a bullet in your head? Yes please!

    He wasn’t stupid. He had no death-wish. He just believed that in a time of crisis, it was up to men like him, men who weren’t afraid of the moral circumstances, to do the logical thing. The less of the undead that there were, the more likely the human race would survive. He took the open roads, flushing them out with car horns and headlights down the darker alleys. He was cautious. If he died, who would take up his mantle?

    When he had nearly spent all his ammo, he turned around the car and got ready to go. But the car stalled. It wasn’t “damn this jeep won’t start.” It was “my car was working just fine until now. wtf.”

    He cursed, of course, the vile curses of a man who had jumped off bridges and train cars, few of which were dramatically unsuccessful. He got out of the car, and pulled his bomber jacket around himself a little tighter. It seemed colder, suddenly, as the air was ready to freeze.

    They came at him then, with all the violence of uzis and shotguns. As he looked under the hood of the jeep, they dropped it on him. As he stumbled away in confusion, they threw rocks at him, many of which glanced off of his head. They screamed, inhuman wails that faded in and out of reality. They threw him. They kicked him. They beaten the living tar out of the man who was Frank Dora.

    OOC: Sorry for the cliché horror moment. I just thought it might be fun to write.

  11. #86
    Post Fiend
    Join Date
    Jul 2008
    Posts
    207
    (*****in, I totally forgot that you had posted, Ark. I'll throw something in this spot asap, just letting you know I'm not dead

    edit: It's not my fault I can't think in RP terms lately ;_;)
    Last edited by LordKain; 23-04-2009 at 17:27.

  12. #87
    Regular
    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    Posts
    69
    (Bumpity...lol lord your version of asap is more like ialat (in a long ass time)

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