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Post by EOBARD VAN DEIJCK on Nov 20, 2012 21:05:59 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://i56.tinypic.com/jqjdld.jpg), bTable][style=float: right; border: 5px solid #1c191a;]
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[style=font: 12px mistral; color: #1c191a;letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; margin-top: 30px;]as they come, in my final hour[/style][style=padding: 10px, 3px, 10px, 10px; spacing: 5px; font: 18px bradley hand itc tt; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -1px; background-color: #1c191a; text-transform: uppercase;]Neuken de Levende Doden[/style]
[style=float: right; background: url(http://i.imgur.com/5STKF.png); height: 300px; width: 320px; overflow: auto; font: 10px Georgia; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: justify; padding: 10px;]Groaning as it carried the human cargo up the steep rise, the decrepit engine made it known that it wasn't long for this world, as he listened to the fan belt threaten to expire, Eobard cursed and continued to try and coax the vehicle up the steepled hill. Pressing his foot down on the accelerator, Eobard made to shift gears and was greeted with a monstrous thud as the motor stalled, “Vloek!” Berating himself for his potentially fatal oversight, Eobard slammed his foot down on the brakes to prevent the truck from sliding back down the incline. Anxious fists slammed the metal partition between the truck's tray and cabin, “Eobard, get your shit together. They're coming!” Heeding the frantic cries of his passengers, Eobard exhaled deeply and placed one of his feet on the clutch and attempted to turn the motor on.
The strained motor's familiar groan was replaced by an almighty screech and a gut-wrenching bang, in that horrible instant Eobard felt both his heart and any traction on the accelerator drop. As thick tendrils of smoke began to escape from the bonnet, Eobard made his decision. Slamming his hand against the cabin's rear wall, he made the call, “Abandon ship!” Counting down under his breath, Eobard allowed the people in the tray a few seconds to escape before he moved to do the same.
Forcing the driver's door open, shifted the truck into reverse and took his foot off the break, as the vehicle began to skid backwards, Eobard leapt from the cabin. Eobard met with the grass hard, losing his footing in the escape from the defunct conveyance, scrambling to his feet in a desperate attempt to escape from the undead phalanx that purposed to consume his flesh. Despite the massive metal hulk that crashed into their ranks, the dead were unperturbed and were not dissuaded from their macabre pursuit in the slightest, even the ghoulish bodies that were broken by the proverbial snowball hauled themselves towards their human prey on shattered limbs. Following the others whom had escaped, Eobard made for the hill's zenith and hopefully salvation, the truck had almost gotten them to the rendezvous point, and he prayed to whatever omnipotent bastard that would listen, that the others had made it.
It didn't take the Dutchman to close the gap between himself and the other survivors, Eobard was renowned as the most fleet-footed in the group, though he doubted that this skill would preserve him should the rendezvous site was empty. Either side of him stood a member of his scavenging party, none of whom uttered a single word, their sole focus was to put as much distance between themselves and the hungry dead as they could. Panting slightly as he reached the top of the hill, Eobard took a brief moment to scan the next valley for any sign of the structure they were looking for, and swallowed hard, there was nothing but scrub and the odd dead men. Pointing off to the left, Caleb, a veteran cop, had spotted the caravan, though Eobard doubted that the any of the men or the woman beside him would make the distance. Gritting his teeth, Eobard set off, “Let's go, let's make 'em work for their meals!” He could already see Janet start to lag behind and knew that she wouldn't even make it to the next hillock.
They were halfway down the hill when the racing dead began their descent, Eobard lifted his pace and expanded the distance between himself and the others, at least their deaths would slow the pack of ravenous ghouls. As the ground flattened out beneath his feet, Eobard was greeted with a guttural moan and a hulk of decaying flesh lumbered towards him, darting out of its way, Eobard again picked up the pace and left his crew to deal with the behemoth. When it came to a question of survival, he had no room for guilt, “Eobard you bastard!” Janet's harsh and exhausted tone only supported his theory and her bloodcurdling shriek only confirmed it.
Behind him there was sporadic gunfire and further pained cries as the dead claimed their prize, Eobard turned his head as he reached the foot of the next hill and saw the Reese, a high school student, had made it through the slaughter. With a wave of his hand, Eobard urged the youth to hurry, and without another backward glance he kept running, their ascent was luckily unimpeded by the undead. Though as Reese's panting grew heavier, Eobard knew that lactic acid would be starting to slow the teen's progress, “Come on buddy, not to much farther now.” As the blatant lie passed through his lips, the teen fell, tripped by a rock or some other obstacle.
Turning to check if he had the time to rescue the kid, Eobard was relieved to see that the ghouls had settled in to feed on the fallen members of their scavenging party. Lifting the youth to his feet, Eobard noted the rather nastily sprained ankle that the ground had imparted on the kid and cursed under his breath. Slipping his shoulder underneath Reese's, Eobard proceeded to carry the teen up the hill, “Your lucky that Mike was a fat prick otherwise they'd already be on our ass.” The teen didn't respond to Eobard's attempt at humour, likely because it was in rather poor taste.
When they reached the top of the hill unmolested, it became obvious that the ghouls had lost interest in them, which meant they could slow their escape. Though they were presented with a new danger, the sun was falling quite rapidly and Eobard felt a dreadful chill as dusk approached, the absence of light was hardly an ally when the dead were on the prowl. Shaking his head, Eobard gazed toward the horizon where Caleb had spotted the group's caravan and cursed, “I'm going to kill that douche,” Acknowledging the confused look on Reese's face, “Rick sent us on this wild goose chase through deadite central, in that piece of shit truck... He marked the goddamn map.” Shouldering his human burden, Eobard set off for the rendezvous point.
***
In spite of the cool night air Eobard was drenched in sweat, the weight of the only surviving member of his scavenging party made his journey all the more arduous but he wasn't about to let a kid die when he could prevent it. Through the darkness he could make out the forms of the few vehicles that made up the convoy, and breathed a sigh of relief as the sentries moved to ascertain their humanity, “It's Eobard. We kicked the hornet's nest. The others didn't make it.” The guards lifted Reese from his shoulders and checked the youth for bites, “It's a sprained ankle guys.” Despite his claim the men still carted the youth off to the medical tent, which was fair enough given the circumstances of their arrival.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Eobard approached the tent that he shared with Claudia, one of the women from his surgery, one he'd been sharing pleasures of the flesh with for some time now. They'd fallen together during their escape from the city and one thing had lead to another during the course of their survival, it was hormones not love that kept them together. Though as he opened the tent he could have sworn she were single, for Rick was in their bed,“Jezus neuken Christus, wat ben je aan het doen?” Exclaiming his shock in his native tongue brought their infidelity to a close, “Mijn god, you bastard. You did on purpose!” Reaching for the machete that hung from his belt, “I'll kill you!” Stepping into the tent with the intent to end the life of the man who betrayed him, Eobard was interrupted when the naked man tackled him out into the night. Other members of the group appeared quickly to quell the noise and prevent Eobard killing the man who'd attempted to murder him.
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[style=font: 9px courier new; text-align: center; margin-top: -10px;] ♥ lucie from btn[/style] |
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Post by AMELIA ROSE LAWSON on Nov 24, 2012 23:10:10 GMT -5
Amelia always tended to feel at unease whenever her group went on a mission without her. The task of waiting around the camp for the scavengers to return was a task that Amelia could barely sit through. Before she had found safety in numbers within the group of survivors, she was continuously on the move. Even stopping to fulfill her simple needs such as hunger and sleep had been risky when she was alone. The infected were everywhere.
After her old family home had been absent of her loved ones in her hometown of Old Town, Maine, Amelia had every reason to give up. She had only crossed the border into Maine with her boyfriend, Nathan, before he sacrificed himself to a horde of the infected so that she could go on and find her family. When their family home had appeared to be abandoned, it was almost as if Nathan’s death had been in vain. He had sacrificed himself so there was a chance that Amelia would be reunited with her family once more...that plan had failed and Amelia scolded herself with guilt almost every day for it.
Killing herself would be far too kind and she knew that doing so would be like spitting on Nathan’s memory and the sacrifice that he made. So Amelia lied to herself, made herself believe...hope that her family were alive and well somewhere - that of course excluded her father, who she wished was dead and burning in Hell. Survival had always been something that Amelia had excelled at before the virus spread. Now the instinct of survival consumed her and would continue to consume her until she gave up, unless by some miracle, she found something to live for again.
Despite not being a vital part in the day’s mission, Amelia was grateful to have wounded patients to watch over. While attempting to find her place in the group, Eobard had taken Amelia on as an assistant. He was a dentist, but he was also one of the ones within the group to have some proper medical experience. Amelia had a degree in Psychology, which wasn’t very useful when it came to tending to physical injuries. However, she did have a way with keeping patients calm whenever they were low on pain killers. Her own mind was, at times, deprived of a sense of sanity, but was well aware of the affects certain circumstances had on others. She was all too familiar with post traumatic stress disorders and right now, the group’s day to day lives proved to be utterly traumatic for them.
When night fell Amelia had trouble sleeping, knowing that the scavengers had yet to return to their camp. She laid down in her tent, her eyes open, staring up into the darkness, the only light source coming from the scattered fires strewn throughout their camp. Her weapon of choice rested next to her. It was a baseball bat with nails half submerged in the tip of it. She had played a lot of baseball during high school and college and had been quite skilled at it. Now those skills had been adapted into a way of eliminating the infected. She had never truly realised how mean her swing was until she first decapitated one of the infected with it.
Amelia had almost dozed off to sleep when she was snapped back into reality after her ears picked up a commotion outside of her tent. Without hesitation, Amelia retrieved her baseball bat and swiftly slid out of her tent, wasting no time in putting on shoes. Expecting to be confronted by the infected, Amelia was shocked to see that there were no infected present, that the commotion had been caused by two men brawling...and one was naked.
As she jogged over to them, she recognized the men as Eobard and Rick. Without a second thought, Amelia found herself tackling Rick off Eobard, before jumping to her feet, standing in between the men to prevent them from continuing their brawl. Amelia was much stronger than she looked, so separating the men hadn’t been too difficult, however, she found herself breathing heavily as her breath tried to catch up with her accelerating heartbeat. “What the hell is wrong with you two?!” She demanded angrily, her baseball bat still resting faithfully in her hand as it rested by her side. Her eyes then darted towards the figure emerging from Eobard’s tent, which was soon identified as Claudia. Amelia’s eyes widened a little as her eyes glanced over the three of the individuals involved in all the commotion. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Rick had slept with Eobard’s girlfriend.
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Post by EOBARD VAN DEIJCK on Nov 29, 2012 4:08:59 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://i56.tinypic.com/jqjdld.jpg), bTable][style=float: right; border: 5px solid #1c191a;]
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[style=font: 12px mistral; color: #1c191a;letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; margin-top: 30px;]as they come, in my final hour[/style][style=padding: 10px, 3px, 10px, 10px; spacing: 5px; font: 18px bradley hand itc tt; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -1px; background-color: #1c191a; text-transform: uppercase;]Neuken de Levende Doden[/style]
[style=float: right; background: url(http://i.imgur.com/5STKF.png); height: 300px; width: 320px; overflow: auto; font: 10px Georgia; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: justify; padding: 10px;]
Coming off second best in the initial scuffle, Eobard lay pinned beneath the hideous traitor and his machete was angled in such a way that it was impotent to slaughter the naked man that laid upon him. Though in the commotion, the blade had nicked the Rick's stomach, a new weakness that Eobard hoped to exploit. Gritting his teeth as he endeavoured to escape from beneath the unclothed mass, Eobard struggled to even move his limbs let alone fend off an assailant, the ardour of the afternoon's misadventure having sapped the strength from them. Relinquishing his grasp on the machete, Eobard instead used his fingers as a weapon, managing to jam the digits into Rick's exposed sternum. The force of the blow, while not great, was enough to wind his enemy and in that moment of weakness, Eobard struck out again, this time with a fist. With limited space came limited power, yet the punch delivered Eobard from the horror that was being pinned under Rick's naked body, which had left him drenched in sweat born of infidelity.
Wiping the foreign sweat from his enraged features, Eobard looked at his hand before planting it firmly in the dirt, the perspiration had washed the dirt from his face but the young man felt far filthier. Despite being blinded by a nigh inconsolable rage and a caustic sweat that bit at his eyes, Eobard could see that this fight would result in death and while that was his initial intention, he didn't want any collateral damage on his hands. Yet as Rick began to move, Eobard felt that this eventuality was unavoidable and he too began to stand. Both men struggled to their feet before the other, both were fighting pain from their injuries as they did so, Eobard against his muscles rebellion and Rick fought his breathlessness.
Before Eobard could retrieve his fallen machete, Rick was upon him, a well placed punch connected with his jaw and knocked him back down into the dirt. A taste of iron filled Eobard's mouth as blood spilled from his ruptured lip, though his mind screamed expletives, he remained silent for the dead may have been within earshot of his outcry. Scrambling away from his erect assailant on all fours, Eobard strived to avoid any more collisions between his face and any of Rick's frightening appendages. The naked man stood imposingly over Eobard and made to deliver another swift blow, with false confidence Rick was completely unprepared for the desperate retaliation he received. Lashing out with his fingers yet again, Eobard clawed at the wound his machete had opened, Rick unlike Eobard did not possess the composure to refrain from exclaiming the pain he felt and in doing so the monster only endangered more lives. Abandoning the usual code of conduct, Eobard made to punch Rick where it would hurt, though before he could disarm his opponent, another body collided with Rick's.
For an instant Eobard thought the worst, that the dead had slipped past the sentries and made their way into the camp to feast, fortunately his nightmare wasn't realised. Instead before him stood one of his friends and unlikely colleague, Amelia, and the woman was brandishing a rather imposing looking baseball bat. In the moment of confusion that followed her surprise entrance, Eobard found his feet and prepared to continue the fight but he was to be surprised again when his saviour confronted both men, with a rather inappropriate volume. Worry and confusion were both written clearly on her face, perhaps she had thought they had devolved into savages for no apparent reason, though this theory vanished as soon as Claudia stepped from the tent. Holding up his hands, Eobard attempted to explain that this was more then a menage a trois gone wrong, “He knew, he fucking sent us to die. The complex was overrun by the dead, and he said it was clear.” Eobard could feel his blood turning to fire and the will to kill the man returning with a vengeance.
Before Amelia had even the slightest chance to react to the information that Eobard had shared, Rick was on the attack, however this time it was verbal rather then physical, “That's utter tripe, he's a fucking head case. Coming back 'ere and going mental because I'm in bed with his missus. I didn't do nothing wrong!” In the heat of the moment it became apparent that Rick had forgotten that the dead could be nearby, “The bastard has gotten his own damn team killed and is blaming me. Count yourself lucky that you were here rather then with his sorry arse!” Eobard felt his knuckles yearning for the warmth of Rick's jaw but prevented himself from acting rashly, even though the idiot was jeopardising everyone's safety. Reaching down, Eobard retrieved his machete and waited, knowing that one of two things were going to happen, either the sentries would come and shut Rick up, or the dead would.
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[style=font: 9px courier new; text-align: center; margin-top: -10px;] ♥ lucie from btn[/style] |
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Post by AMELIA ROSE LAWSON on Nov 29, 2012 7:05:12 GMT -5
Amelia stood her ground as the men tried to break through the imaginary divide that she had created between them, giving them both a warning look. Even if Rick had slept with Claudia, Amelia suspected from the get go that there was another reason behind the sudden brawl. She had worked with Eobard for a few weeks now — not to mention accompanying him on various missions and learning to trust him enough to become his friend — so she was well aware of the fact that Eobard wouldn’t just try and murder someone for no good reason, certainly not over a cheating scandal. It was clear to the whole group that he and Claudia were only together for convenience.
A sigh of frustration escaped Amelia’s lips as Eobard began his explanation. She would get to the bottom of all this. A look of uncertainty crossed Amelia’s face and she opened her mouth to respond before she was interrupted by the opposing side. “Lower...your...voice!” Amelia directed at Rick through gritted teeth, feeling slightly irritated by now. However, while he was shouting, Amelia’s trained psychologist’s mind was working its wonders, looking at the situation from every angle. Already, she was suspicious of Rick, due to the fact that he was acting rather defensive for a man who was apparently innocent.
“First of all, sleeping with his girlfriend is doing something wrong.” Amelia pointed out with a roll of her eyes, glancing at Claudia with distaste. “Second of all, I have been on many missions with Eobard and every one of those times he has helped us return to camp, with no more than bloodstains on our clothes or a few bumps and bruises.” She continued dauntlessly, defending her friend. “The way you go blaming him for all of tonight’s misfortunes is very shifty...” She was stern, taking a step towards Rick to show that she could not be intimidated. “...and if what Eobard is accusing you of is true...well, we’ll just have to sort that out when the time comes, won’t we?” She stated snidely, a hint of wildness dancing in her eyes.
Amelia found Rick to be quite a distasteful person from the moment she met him. She honestly had no trust for the guy, especially after he made a move on her when she was known as ‘the new girl‘ among the group. She punched him in the face in response at the time, noticing how two faced he was much more distinctly after that. He held a grudge against her ever since.
“Where were you when he was out there risking his life for all of us?!” Amelia demanded of Rick heatedly. “I was tending the wounded, but you were busy handing out false information and faulty vehicles, weren’t you?!” She had joined Eobard’s side and was no longer neutral. “And if that wasn’t enough, you decided to screw his girlfriend in his own tent!” She may not have had hard evidence, but not only did her training in psychology tell her that Rick was lying, but her instincts reinforced her suspicions and she wasn’t about to back down now. People’s lives had been lost for no good reason and that was something Amelia wasn't willing to stand for.
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Post by EOBARD VAN DEIJCK on Nov 29, 2012 8:36:00 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://i56.tinypic.com/jqjdld.jpg), bTable][style=float: right; border: 5px solid #1c191a;]
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[style=font: 12px mistral; color: #1c191a;letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; margin-top: 30px;]as they come, in my final hour[/style][style=padding: 10px, 3px, 10px, 10px; spacing: 5px; font: 18px bradley hand itc tt; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -1px; background-color: #1c191a; text-transform: uppercase;]Neuken de Levende Doden[/style]
[style=float: right; background: url(http://i.imgur.com/5STKF.png); height: 300px; width: 320px; overflow: auto; font: 10px Georgia; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: justify; padding: 10px;]
It was slightly surprising that Amelia had sided with him, without any concrete evidence to base her decision on, however Eobard supposed that her having a degree in psychology made Amelia slightly better at reading people then he was. As the conversation grew more heated it was obvious that it was drawing attention, far more then it ought to have in the late hours of the night. Several members of the watch had finally made their presence known, but they were too late. By the time the armed men and women had arrived Rick was already making a scene, the fool was adamant that he was not in the wrong and Eobard was wholly at fault. If Eobard believed it would shut him up, he would have agreed with the disillusion dullard, yet he knew Rick would not be appeased with reason, so it was easier to ignore it and move onto more pressing matters.
The elevated level of noise had drawn most, if not all, of the residents of their moving community out into the cool night air and if the living were stirring, this spectacle was definitely loud enough to wake the dead. Rapid movement and muted gunshots alerted him to the presence of the undead and confirmed his fears that he had made a tragic faux pas, his desire for retribution would potentially cost the lives of his friends and foe alike. Upon the advent of gunfire, the entire camp was ablaze with activity and the hostility that had gripped it only moments before was a distant memory in the shadow of the walking dead. As their instincts kicked in, while each survivor moved independently there was a peculiar cohesion to their frenetic movements, Eobard attributed it to the ample opportunities that they'd had to practice. Rushing toward his colleague-come-saviour, Eobard hoped to return the favour, “It's time for us to depart Lee. I think Rick has overstayed his welcome on the mortal coil, let's not join him in shuffling off it.” Wrapping his free hand around her arm, Eobard urged the woman to follow him.
Armed with clear and simplistic intentions, Eobard made a bee line through the buzzing crowd of panicked survivors, they were to grab whatever they could on their way out, a vehicle if possible but they weren't going to risk their lives for inanimate objects. With that being said, Eobard had scant possessions to collect, none of which were worth his life, especially Claudia, she was Rick's problem now. The gunshots continued to ring out as Eobard pulled his human quarry towards their first destination, the van that served as the group's supply depot, they were going to grab a pack of rations and then they were going to bail. As they approached the van, it was obvious that several other members of the group had the same idea, including the teen that Eobard had rescued, Reese, “Oi, Pieces! Over here, we're getting out of dodge. You coming?” The teen was silent for a moment before nodding and muttering something quietly, something that he repeated as he pushed the pair out of the way, “Fucking behind you!” As the moving corpse barrelled through the air they had been occupying moments before, Eobard knew that the sentry line had failed and they needed to lift their pace, the fresh spate of screams only confirmed this thought.
Not stopping to ensure that Amelia was behind him, Eobard advanced on the corpse that had attempted to make her a meal and dispatched it with a clinical ferocity, rending the flesh from the bones with ease. After sliding through the necrotic flesh like it were butter, the blade shattered the beast's skull and mangled its brain. Pulling the machete from the now still cadaver, Eobard motioned forwards, they were going to head in the opposite direction to the zombies and hopefully they would be able to hitch a ride with one of the survivor's who possessed a vehicle. In almost an instant the thin veil of peace had been ruptured and the dead had broken ground, claiming lives and casting the survivors back into the darkness. Turning to observe the scene, Eobard watched as the people he had grown to know fell to the relentless army of the damned, “Let's get the fuck out of here.” Reese was all to eager to accommodate, Eobard simply waited for Amelia to get before him, he wasn't leaving another friend to be feed to the dead by Rick's stupidity.[/style] |
[style=font: 9px courier new; text-align: center; margin-top: -10px;] ♥ lucie from btn[/style] |
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Post by AMELIA ROSE LAWSON on Dec 2, 2012 8:59:56 GMT -5
As expected, Rick protested Amelia’s accusations in a tone that was not so discreet — determined not to be in the wrong. Merely a few moments went by before members of the watch made themselves known. Rick’s foolishness proved to be of dire consequences when the attention of the guards was no longer on breaking up the argument, but rather shooting down the walkers that had begun to charge towards the camp.
The camp stirred in the cool night air as the realization of their visitors swept over its inhabitants, chaos ensuing when the walkers began to hunt for their next meal. Amelia could have strangled Rick to death herself if her most urgent priority in that moment hadn’t been to flee the undead. Once aware of the situation, Amelia subconsciously switched into her survival mode, preparing herself for whatever was ahead. Apparently Eobard had the same idea, for he was tugging her by the arm, ready to flee the whirlwind of chaos that they found themselves in. For a moment, Amelia was surprised by the realization that she couldn’t just leave Eobard behind and focus solely on her own survival. She had survived on her own for quite some time before crossing paths with Eobard and his group. Since then, the two had become quite the team and it was in that moment where Amelia was able to grasp how much Eobard’s friendship meant to her. She had chosen his side when she stood up to Rick on his behalf, there was no turning back now.
As they made their way through the sea of distressed figures, Amelia stopped in her tracks as a wave of panic washed over her as it dawned upon her that she had left the last photograph of her potentially deceased siblings in her tent. “I need to get something!” She informed Eobard with a hint of dismay in her eyes, before replacing that particular emotion with determination. “If they break through the barrier, go on without me.” She added seriously, before darting off through the crowd of people with incredible speed. Amelia was unsure as to whether Eobard would wait for her or not, but she had meant what she had said. The last thing Amelia wanted was to find out was that Eobard had lost his life because he had waited around for her.
Amelia darted into her tent, picking up the backpack that she kept packed at all times, inside was where the photograph was hidden. Having no time to pick up her shoes to cover her bare feet, Amelia swung the backpack onto her back and was out of her tent again in a flash, scurrying towards the space in which she last saw Eobard. A sense of relief swept over her when she saw him, waiting for her anxiously. An appreciative smile curved to her lips before they were on the move once again.
From there, the two moved through the crowd towards the vehicles where they approached a van. Amelia grew restless and impatient as Eobard began convincing Reese to flee with them, knowing that Reese had the potential to slow them down. However, with being an adolescent, Reese somehow reminded Amelia of Juliet — her younger sister — which presented her with the sudden urge to protect the boy as best she could.
A hint of fear entered Amelia’s eyes as the sentry line breached. The unusual thing about Amelia experiencing fear was because she had experienced so much of it — even before the virus had taken over — in the past, she had adapted to it. She had become so skilled at pretending everything was not as fearful as it seemed, that it had developed into some kind of an art form in the past few months. This enabled her to push on.
Moments after, Amelia found herself in combat mode as she began taking down the infected as they attempted to create a path through the chaos that threatened to consume them. Amelia did not dare to turn to witness the massacre that had erupted within minutes within the camp, for the key of her own survival had been to always move forward and never look back...she had broken that rule for the first time tonight by retrieving the only object that kept her connected to the past that she doubted she’d see again.
The next chain of events went by in a blur as she, Eobard and Reese managed to hitch a ride with a fellow survivor. Once fleeing the scene, they were on the road once more, pushing on to the next chapter of their endless — unless taken by death — journey.
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Post by EOBARD VAN DEIJCK on Dec 3, 2012 1:06:00 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://i56.tinypic.com/jqjdld.jpg), bTable][style=float: right; border: 5px solid #1c191a;]
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[style=font: 12px mistral; color: #1c191a;letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; margin-top: 30px;]as they come, in my final hour[/style][style=padding: 10px, 3px, 10px, 10px; spacing: 5px; font: 18px bradley hand itc tt; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -1px; background-color: #1c191a; text-transform: uppercase;]Neuken de Levende Doden[/style]
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Silence reigned, the deafening clamour of life being extinguished had filled their ears for a few frantic moments, but these sounds of defiance were choked out and a bloody stillness presided over the night once more. Wincing as the cool night air bit into his flesh, Eobard recalled the absolute horror that had transpired in the moments before they had managed to climb aboard one of the few vehicles that had made it out of the abattoir that was their camp. Their group had been near thirty strong but had dissolved into little more then a handful of souls, Eobard couldn't say with confidence that they weren't the only ones to escape, and if it hadn't been for Billy Ray stopping to pick them up, he strongly doubted that all three of them would be breathing. As he contemplated the sheer size of the herd that had made such short work of his companions, Eobard knew that the massacre was, at least in part, his fault. The dead hadn't followed Rick's cries, they had tracked him back to the camp. Biting his lip, Eobard refrained from proclaiming his guilt, instead he secreted the knowledge away and attempted to block the face of the last zombie he had slain from his mind's eye. While the adrenalin coursing through his veins made it nigh impossible to sleep, the gentle rocking of the ute allowed Eobard to lose himself in an internal reverie.
Blood curdling screams filled the night air, yet all Eobard could hear was his on voice goading him on, encouraging him to keep going, ensuring that he didn't accept the futility of the situation, preventing him from laying down to die. It was this voice that had told him to take her with him and it was this voice that alerted him to the fact that she was gone, his hand was empty, Amelia had pulled away from his grasp. Swallowing the intense panic that seized him, Eobard turned to face her half expecting to find her at the mercy of a ghoul but was fortuitously mistaken, instead he was presented with her back, Amelia was making a beeline for a mysterious something and he was left alone amidst the horror with only the promise that she would return. Brandishing his machete in one hand, Eobard kept the other free in case Amelia managed to keep her word, if there was one thing that was more abundant then the dead in this world, it was broken promises.
The voice screamed at him to run, to abandon her, to preserve himself but something stilled his legs and kept him grounded as he buried his machete into the skulls of the damned, it was the promise he had made to her the day they had met. As the fallen corpses began to form a carpet, Eobard recalled his first words to Amelia, they were the first promise he had made to the woman, when he had sworn that he would keep her safe and for some idiotic reason, Eobard felt it was his duty to fulfil the fair-weather oath. What had felt like an age passed before Amelia returned, but it only took an instant for him to snatch her hand and resume their delayed departure from the madness that had consumed their camp. When they had found Reese, Eobard found himself forced to fell yet another of the damned that attempted to shatter the fragile semblance of control he possessed, after that the trio set about putting distance between themselves and the walking dead. Yet, their path was blocked by another wall of undead, Amelia slew one of the monstrosities that had staggered too close and the action bought them enough time and space to slip through the otherwise impenetrable phalanx of corpses.
Rushing across the field that the camp had been established, the trio were almost out of death's corporeal grasp when another group of peculiar creatures blocked their way, several people stumbled through the darkness lead by a babbling and naked man ran before them. Eager to maintain a distance from Rick, Eobard changed their course slightly heading for the lake rather then the road. The decision almost immediately yielded fruit, for within an instant of his decision the other group were ensnared by undead hands and mouths as the ghouls began to spill out of the camp and back into the night. It was one such zombie that stumbled upon them, Eobard quickly dispatched of it and as they readied themselves to continue their flight, a truck came flying across the field with a vengeance and a horde of walking corpses in it's wake. Bathed in the bright yellow of the headlights, Eobard recognised the corpse, despite the mangled features, as Janet and prayed that the others were to busy attempting to gain the truck driver's attention. Waving the truck down was no mean feat but they accomplished it, as the vehicle came to an abrupt stop, they rushed to pile in. As quickly as it had stopped the truck was moving again, ready to put space between it and the horde of zombies that trailed behind it.
A rough voice laced with fear tore Eobard from his macabre memories, it was apparent that Billy Ray was anxious not only from his tone but from the fact that the truck was slowing. Propping himself up, Eobard looked for the source of the driver's discomfort, first looking at the fuel gauge, then when finding nothing wrong, the road. The dirt thoroughfare had appeared as if from nowhere and in a cruel turn of fate, apparently lead there as well, for it terminated in a hill and a short driveway that lead to an old farmhouse. Knowing the dead were likely still on their trail, Eobard was at a loss, they couldn't turn around now, “Let's go up there and see if it leads somewhere, better then returning to the bellies of the beasts, no?” With a sigh, Billy accelerated up the hill and came to a rest in the house's carport, “Alright guys, I think it might be best if we take as best a look at the surrounding area as possible from up here before we press on, if there are any better ideas I'm all ears.” Not waiting for a response, Eobard stepped out of the ute with a mind full of doubt and a heart full of hope.
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Post by AMELIA ROSE LAWSON on Dec 3, 2012 23:10:04 GMT -5
After Billy Ray had rescued them from a terrible, bloody death, Amelia remained silent in the back seat of the vehicle with a certain solemnness generating the atmosphere among the truck’s inhabitants. Amelia was not a new witness of death. She had seen many humans lose their lives due to the virus, during the months of surviving on her own. However, never had she been forced to bare witness to the slaughtering of that many familiar faces in one bloody massacre. Faces that she had been on the road with, on missions with...faces that she had woken up to every morning that would no longer care about saving their humanity, for most of them would rise from the dead within a few hours with only the craving of human flesh being the single reason for their existence.
Amelia didn’t know whether to cry...to scream...or do absolutely nothing...she simply just existed, her confusion and distress leading her to a sense of numbness as her entire being attempted to block out the night’s events. She felt as though she was trapped within a nightmare that she never seemed to be able to wake up from. Tonight had been way too surreal for it to be reality...Amelia felt her sanity fading.
Only the decreasing speed of the truck snapped Amelia back into reality and out of the whirlwind of emotions that had begun to consume her. As she had always done after a traumatic encounter since the virus had spread, Amelia pushed all that she was feeling to the back of her mind as a coping mechanism in order to face what was ahead of them — a seemingly dead end.
With no objection with their current plan (for she was lacking any more practical ideas), Amelia followed Eobard’s lead — with her trusty baseball bat at hand — by exiting the truck and preparing herself to explore the land and its surroundings. In the cool night air, Amelia’s bare feet were beginning to numb without the protection of her shoes that she had left behind at the camp. A part of her had the urge to enter the seemingly abandoned farm house in order to seek a pair of replacements, but she was well aware of how foolish that notion was. It was most definitely not a good idea to enter an abandoned building at night time with no light source unless you had no other choice. She would simply have to endure her discomfort until she was able to source out another pair elsewhere.
“We’ll be able to have a better look at the roads from higher ground.” Amelia stated softly, nodding her head towards the hill that created the nature produced dead end. “Although, I doubt we’ll see much until dawn...” She added realistically as she nervously crossed her arms, feeling vulnerable in the darkness. “What do you guys think we should do?” She fished for suggestions, not liking the limited options that they had to choose from.
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Post by EOBARD VAN DEIJCK on Dec 12, 2012 17:48:45 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://i56.tinypic.com/jqjdld.jpg), bTable][style=float: right; border: 5px solid #1c191a;]
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[style=font: 12px mistral; color: #1c191a;letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; margin-top: 30px;]as they come, in my final hour[/style][style=padding: 10px, 3px, 10px, 10px; spacing: 5px; font: 18px bradley hand itc tt; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -1px; background-color: #1c191a; text-transform: uppercase;]Neuken de Levende Doden[/style]
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Letting a sigh of reluctance slip through his lips, Eobard took a moment to revel in the musty warmth of the cab before sliding out of the beat-up pickup truck and into the biting cold. Grimacing as his body was engulfed by the frigid air, Eobard peered out into the gloom in an attempt to glean the location of the potential pitfalls that pockmarked the dark farmyard. The howling of the night wind had for the moment replaced the guttural moans of their undead pursuers, though that hardly assuaged the anxiety that Eobard was feeling. With a fluid movement, Eobard silently shut the truck's door, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention by unceremoniously slamming the metal into its rubber housing. Tightening his grip on the bloodstained machete, Eobard left the safety of the truck behind and moved out into the open.
As he navigated through the lifeless rustic scenery, the clouds parted and the wan light of the moon erupted into the yard, bringing with it a cadre of spectral shadows. Feeling his heart skip a beat, Eobard prayed that this macabre exodus would come to an end soon, for he loathed the dark. Turning back to face his fellows, Eobard waved towards the hill in hopes that someone would volunteer to accompany him, when it became apparent that wasn't going to happen he picked, “Come on Lee, we'll get a take a look up there. Then we'll clear out the house and bunk down for the night.” He didn't know about Amelia or Billy, but he and Reese were both likely running on fumes.
With his eyes set intently on his female companion, Eobard noted for the first time the femininity and poise Amelia possessed. Perhaps it was the moonlight or the fact that he had almost been torn asunder by the hungry mouths of the damned, but under the current circumstances it wasn't entirely surprising that he was no longer blinded to Amelia's gender. Before Eobard's mind could betray him with improper thoughts he caught a pained expression flash across the woman's tired features and his heart fell into the deepest pit of trepidation. Certain that concern was clearly written on his face, Eobard took a step towards the woman before he noticed the origin of her discomfort, her feet were bare and planted upon the icy ground. Shaking his head, Eobard grinned at the woman's determination, “Lee, stay with the truck or find some shoes.” Looking over his shoulder at the rise he intended to climb, “I can manage this on my own, I'll be back before you can say terugkomen.” As he set off for the hummock, Eobard couldn't help but laugh at the quizzical looks that had greeted the spasmodic use of his native tongue.
Traversing the yard without incident, Eobard reached the flimsy wooden fence that cordoned the decrepit homestead from the rest of the farm and with a single awkward movement, lifted himself over the rotting partition. Before the rise there was a narrow lane way that wended off in both directions, Eobard assumed that they lead to the paddocks that were blocked from his vision by the geographical obstacles and the rows of trees that spanned out either side of the hillock. Trekking up the hill that prevented the truck's passage was hardly a mean feat, as he climbed Eobard cast his eyes either side of the butte. Beyond the thickets that formed a secondary fence lay an undulating sea of grass that was punctuated by the occasional cow, which was a surprise to him, it would appear as though this farm had been unscathed by the blight.
The miracle almost went untainted but in the general manner it was quickly marred, as Eobard carried himself past an unusual looking tussock, he was set upon by an equally peculiar assailant. Emerging from the grass undetected the dark body crept behind Eobard and closed the distance with deft movements, a wizened old hand grabbed the young man's shoulder and the muzzle of a rifle nuzzled his loins. Swallowing hard, Eobard waited for instructions and sure enough, he was met by a gruff voice, “I'll tell you, like I told those kids from Henley, you have five minutes to get the fuck off my property or you can spend the next few agonising moments trying to pick up the pieces of your pieces.” The older man pushed forwards with his rifle to emphasise his point, “You get me chief?” Eobard could only nod in response and hope that the man had a steady trigger finger.
Manoeuvring the young man with several prods, the elderly man faced Eobard back down towards the farm house and pushed him forwards not wasting anymore breath on a message that had well and truly been sent. Gritting his teeth, Eobard considered the likelihood of success if he appealed to the man's sense of compassion, despite them being grim, he knew the only thing he had to lose was his life and that was something so easily lost these days. After a rather uncomfortable nudge, Eobard decided to speak up, “I apologise for the trespass, we were just looking for somewhere safe to crash for the night, if you could point us in the right direction we would be infinitely grateful.” The man was silent for a moment then grumbled something about Henley, “What is Henley sir?” Perhaps the rifle betwixt his legs was worth the temporary discomfort, for it appeared as though the old man possessed knowledge of some form of sanctuary.
Entering the farmyard with an unceremonious thud, Eobard was tossed over the fence and the geriatric farmer cleared the obstacle with surprising ease, considering the gun never left it's mark. As he found his feet, Eobard hoped that his travelling companions didn't try anything rash in his absence or they didn't do anything stupid when they saw him, he really was quite attached to his privates and wasn't to fond of the idea of sharing them with the ground. Through the crazed mutterings of the gun-totting senior citizen, Eobard managed to garnered some useful information, “... a town north o'here... put up fences... trying to steal my cows.” It wasn't much but it was enough to work with and it was far more constructive then trying to reason with this codger.
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Post by AMELIA ROSE LAWSON on Dec 13, 2012 5:09:34 GMT -5
The evening’s conditions were not of preferable taste as Amelia attempted to take in their surroundings through the dark shade of night. Amelia found herself in a paranoid and anxious state after the massacre that they had endured, merely an hour or two ago. Everywhere her eyes fell upon she felt as though something unpleasant was lurking in the shadows, waiting to enforce whatever terrible horrors it possessed upon these innocent bystanders. The cool air sent shivers up the girl’s spine — though the temperature wasn’t totally to blame — as she attempted to draw her mind away from her numbing feet.
As Eobard made a move to physically explore their surroundings, Amelia followed him, a few paces behind as she urged Reese and Billy Ray with hand gestures to stay by the truck. The last thing the group needed was for a band of survivors to come along, ambushing them in attempts of stealing their vehicle. These days — especially with a horde of the infected close by — vehicles were one of the most valuable tools for survival. Walkers struggled to keep up with the speed of a this form of transport, making it the most preferable method of traveling — however, not everyone had that choice and were forced to gradually make their way across the country by walking, which was what Amelia had been obligated to do before Eobard’s group had stumbled upon her.
Amelia stopped in her tracks realising that while the idea of observing their surroundings from the hill top was all fine an dandy, having no shoes at night time would prove to be an obstacle. She knew that if the sun had given them mercy by providing daylight at that particular moment, having no shoes would be less of an issue. However, given that they were on a farm where many dangerous tools and materials laid about, risking obtaining a cut or a nail through Amelia’s foot was not worth potentially threatening their chance of survival.
She was oblivious to Eobard’s observations of her as she realised that she would have to allow him to take on this particular mission alone. Eobard’s look of concern frustrated her, not because of the empathy that he felt towards her, but because of the fact that his concern was merely a confirmation of the weaknesses she felt in that moment. She was tired, cold and disgruntled with herself for not bothering to pick up her pair of shoes as they fled the campsite. “I’ll wait by the truck...” She murmured gruffly, reluctantly accepting her own personal defeat. “You better come back.” She offered more lightly in attempts to match Eobard’s attempts of cheering her up. Her lips curved into a half heartened smile before Eobard was off, leaving the group slightly confused as he referenced his own culture.
Amelia paced anxiously as she waited for Eobard’s return. As determined as she was, it was difficult for Amelia to stand back and allow Eobard to take on this mission on as the sole contributor. She did not doubt his capabilities — for she had seen him in action on various other missions — Amelia simply detested standing around and waiting. The thought of Eobard failing to return to them set Amelia on edge. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing yet another member of their team, especially one that she had begun viewing as a friend of sorts.
A jolt of panic swept over Amelia as she witnessed Eobard being held hostage by an old man from a distance. The unreasonable part of her brain urged her to run into the fray, swinging her baseball bat as if she were slaying the infected. However, her survival instinct told her to remain calm, for the old man appeared to be an obvious threat to Eobard. Silently, she drew Billy Ray’s attention to the threat, indicating that she needed him to back her up. She didn’t have much choice in this particular situation and she wasn’t about to risk Reese’s life — that went against her instinct to protect those younger than her. Billy Ray nodded, his nerves conflicting with a form of determination. She instructed Reese in a murmur — that was disguised by the sound of the wind — to wait by the car. Before he could protest, Amelia gave him a stern look, which put him back in his place. Reluctantly, Amelia left her trusty baseball bat in Reese’s hands, knowing that if it remained by her side, the old farmer would feel even more threatened. Billy Ray carried an old pistol, hidden in its belt holster underneath his jacket, just in case the situation came down to that. Soon after, Amelia and Billy Ray were on the move. She would have to endure the numbness of her feet in order to save her friend.
Amelia approached the farm house cautiously — Billy Ray followed her lead while holding up the rear. She didn’t dare to attempt to catch Eobard’s eyes, not wanting to risk giving herself away before the opportune moment. “Sir, please put the gun down...we mean you no harm...” Amelia spoke soothingly as she remained on the other side of the garden gate that lead into the main farm house. “We were only seeking shelter for the night...” She added, turning up the facade of innocence as she raised her hands in the air in apparent surrender. The farmer turned around briskly, seeking out the source of the voice. The mad man turned the gun on her. This was it, she’d either win or lose tonight, but she wouldn’t give up without a fight. As yet, this situation didn’t demand the usual brawn that usually slaying the infected demanded. This was all about intelligence and Amelia was excellent at manipulating the situation to her advantage.
The young woman’s eyes filled a fake dose of desperation which seemed to get through to the old man in some form. The farmer began to hesitantly lower his gun, staring into space in despair as if he was having a flashback of his former life. Amelia almost pitied him and even dared to edge a little closer, before any progress she had made with the farmer was interrupted. It all happened so fast. Billy Ray had made his presence known, which caused the farmer to build up his defensive wall once more. Before Amelia had time to act, Billy Ray had been shot down.
As Amelia began to boil with rage, she found herself jumping over the gate with swift effortlessness, before tackling the farmer to the ground. All evidence of the innocent role she had played moments ago, completely vanished. The farmer’s frailty and old age caused his movements to be delayed, which resulted in him dropping his gun. “Get the gun Eobard!” She exclaimed as she battled with the farmer to keep him on the ground, a distinct wildness lingering in her eyes as her animalistic survival instincts kicked in.
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Post by EOBARD VAN DEIJCK on Dec 16, 2012 9:08:14 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://i56.tinypic.com/jqjdld.jpg), bTable][style=float: right; border: 5px solid #1c191a;]
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[style=font: 12px mistral; color: #1c191a;letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; margin-top: 30px;]as they come, in my final hour[/style][style=padding: 10px, 3px, 10px, 10px; spacing: 5px; font: 18px bradley hand itc tt; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -1px; background-color: #1c191a; text-transform: uppercase;]Neuken de Levende Doden[/style]
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Blood was seeping through Eobard's fingers, the dark crimson was unmistakable even beneath the scant light offered by the waning moon. Beneath him lay his friend, both of their hands were pressed firmly against the bullet wound that had torn open Billy's gullet, both men desperately attempting to stop his life from spilling out onto the ground. Keeping his wits about him, Eobard began to realise the true nature of the man's injury and how ill-equipped he was to save the dying man. Swallowing the disappointment and the grim news, Eobard carried on the charade if not for Billy's sake it was for Amelia's, it would only take moments. Only a second had passed before Billy began to choke on the cardinal humour. The man's mouth hung agape and a wet gurgling filled Eobard's ears as his friend struggled to breathe, he looked into the man's wide eyes and it pained him to see them slowly lose their life. The vibrance that had filled them slipped behind a glassy veil, then with a final exhausted shudder Billy stopped trying, he was gone.
Wiping the macabre stains from his hands onto the thick carpet of course grass, casting his tired eyes across the yard at the corpse of yet another human struck down by a rash decision, the frail and crumpled frame of the geriatric bastard responsible for this mess lay where it had fallen. With laboured movements, Eobard stood slowly, he felt weak and drained of life, but he didn't have the luxury of allowing himself this mortal weakness. Though this thin membrane of composure ruptured the instant he heard Reese's stifled crying, in an uncharacteristic eruption of rage, Eobard lunged towards the corpse of their assailant ready to desecrate the bastard's worldly remains. It wasn't enough that he had killed the man responsible, he needed further revenge, he needed the bastard to pay, the machete blow had been far to quick.
Eobard sent a violent kick towards the corpse's jaw, followed by another, sharp vibrations jarred his toes but he didn't feel it, he only felt the need to punish. Fresh gouts of blood trickled out of the fissure and as his attacks opened the man's face, a shower of thick blood began to coat his cross trainers, still it wasn't enough. As he jerked his foot back for yet another volley, a gentle hand gripped his shoulder and firmly pulled him back from the body with the misshapen and bloodied face, “Eobard, stop!” In the brief cessation of hostilities, Eobard realised the madness of his actions, yet the face that greeted him was not Amelia's but that of Claudia, “That's enough, it's not your fault, no one is to blame. Calm down.” Following the apparition's advice, Eobard stepped back from the corpse and beheld his work.
With his blood caked digits, Eobard retrieved both the rifle and machete before he began to move past the bodies of the fallen and towards the woman who had been born witness to an outburst of brutality he wasn't even fully aware he had committed. Enshrouded by a haze of exhaustion of body and mind Eobard simply staggered behind the ghost of the harlot that had been the root of his pain, with no apparent concern that he was following a figment of his imagination. As he passed Amelia, Eobard thrust the rifle into her hands and continued his trek, goaded on by Claudia's visage and the guilt that he hadn't been able to keep the promise he'd made to her. Following the apparition as it made for the farmhouse, Eobard did all he could manage to do, aside from putting one foot in front of the other, and that was to mutter apologies under his breath to the memory that haunted him.
Content with the knowledge that exhaustion was claiming his ability to think with any semblance of reason or logic, Eobard ignored the gaze of his surviving companions and allowed his erratic thoughts to govern his actions. As he attempting to step up onto the porch, Eobard lost his footing and came crashing to his knees, the shock of the collision expelled the demon for an instant and allowed him a moment of clarity. Sliding on the rough wood, Eobard found a seat and faced Amelia, she and Reese were the only two he'd been able to save and now he felt as though he couldn't even preserve them from his emotions, “I'm sorry, so sorry.” Averting his eyes from those of Amelia, Eobard was assailed by a nagging thought, “I'm so sorry... I tried.” Dropping his machete onto the deck, Eobard filled his hands with his face and was tempted to let sleep take him.
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Post by AMELIA ROSE LAWSON on Dec 16, 2012 22:01:21 GMT -5
It all happened in a flash — far too sudden for Amelia to comprehend in the moment. As the old farmer struggled beneath her in attempts to escape from her wrath, she was was shoved abruptly to the side by Eobard’s furious force. She hit the ground with a light thud, before she could take any action against Eobard’s rampant act and before she knew it, the old farmer had his life brutally drained from him. Amelia slowly rose to her feet, her eyes wide as her fear stunned her into an overwhelming silence as Eobard desperately attempted to resuscitate Billy Ray...the reason why she Eobard and Reese were still alive.
Despite her shock and the grief that Amelia felt in that moment, she was snapped out of her state of numbness as Eobard staggered over to the second corpse of the old farmer — the wild look in his eyes causing a panic to rise within Amelia as it dawned on what he was set on. Despite physically attempting to hold Eobard back, he pushed past her with ease before he began to violently kick the corpse before them. From that moment, Amelia found herself genuinely afraid of her friend, but at the same time it pained her to see him break down and lose a sense of himself. “Eobard, stop!” Amelia exclaimed desperately, unaware that Eobard wasn’t seeing her in that moment and that her voice was being translated through Claudia’s image. “That's enough, it's not your fault, no one is to blame. Calm down!” She continued, attempting to get through to him as her eyes began to well with tears that threatened to stream down her cheeks.
A sense of relief washed over her as Eobard stepped back from the aggression he was conducting, appearing to have listened to her. However, Amelia still found herself frightened of him as he shoved the rifle into her hands — but found herself dashing to his side as he collapsed on the front porch of the farm house. Setting the rifle down, Amelia settled herself next to Eobard — while Reese watched them, both grief and concern taking over his features — after a moment of hesitation, Amelia wrapped her arms around Eobard in a comforting embrace as he buried his face in his blood stained hands. “Shhh...none of this is your fault...” She consoled her friend in a hushed tone, the atmosphere both solemn and draining. Despite being frightened of Eobard earlier, Amelia knew that she needed to be there for him now.
“Reese, collect our things from the truck. I’m going to take him inside.” She instructed impassively, the numbness returning to her soul. Reese accepted his task without question as Amelia struggled to return Eobard to a standing position. By the time she had gotten Eobard onto his feet, Reese had returned, carrying what little belongings they had left...including Amelia’s baseball bat. After opening the door for them, Reese retrieved the rifle that had been abandoned on the porch, as Amelia brought Eobard into the front living room. She let go of him gently, as she urged him to take a seat on the couch. “I’m just going to make sure the house is clear. I’ll be back okay?” She spoke tenderly, directly to Eobard this time in hopes of trying to get through to him. “Watch him.” She murmured to Reese as she took her baseball bat into her hands, before exiting the room to check to see if they were safe to spend the night in the old farm house. She lit an old candle she found to light the way.
Amelia did a lap of the first floor of the house, before heading cautiously down into the basement. All clear — much to Amelia’s relief. She then headed upstairs where she scanned every room separately, making sure that there was no danger present. She knew that the three of them (especially Eobard) were exhausted from the nights events. A decent night’s sleep was what would do them all good — that was for sure.
Before heading back downstairs, Amelia made sure that she retrieved a pair of socks and the most practical pair of shoes she could find that would actually fit her. Amelia tried not to let herself linger in thoughts of guilt for too long as she found a pair of working boots — that were close enough to her own size — in the farmer’s teenage daughter’s room. Despite what the farmer had done to Billy Ray, Amelia found herself pitying the man as she could quite easily assume that the farmer had lost all of his loved ones too...they all could relate to him in one way or another. The farmer had been scared out of his wits just like them, but he had also been scared into an irrational madness that had clearly consumed him...just as rage had taken over Eobard’s state of mind. Humanity was screwed, there was no doubt about that.
A melancholy silence lingered in the daughter’s bedroom and as Amelia allowed herself to feel again, the tears that had threatened to spill before had broke the surface, bursting out of her as a feeling of helplessness and despair consumed her. She dropped to her knees in surrender as the pain and grief took over. Curling into the fetal position, Amelia could no longer hide or control her emotions, but instead she cried and cried for what seemed like forever.
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Post by EOBARD VAN DEIJCK on Dec 17, 2012 20:03:41 GMT -5
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[style=font: 12px mistral; color: #1c191a;letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; margin-top: 30px;]as they come, in my final hour[/style][style=padding: 10px, 3px, 10px, 10px; spacing: 5px; font: 18px bradley hand itc tt; color: #e2e2e2; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -1px; background-color: #1c191a; text-transform: uppercase;]Neuken de Levende Doden[/style]
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Holding his face with his stained hands, Eobard found himself wondering just how much blood was on them, the number of deaths he was at least in part responsible was incalculable and far exceeded the lives he'd saved. The guilt Eobard felt may have been misplaced but there was no one else to blame, he had promised Claudia safety and despite her actions, he had failed her and himself, his word meant nothing. In the past few months there had been numerous occasions where Eobard had been confronted with these emotions, yet now he felt impotent, as his father would say, he was a poor excuse for a man. As these thoughts plagued his mind, the apparition of the woman he failed had been dispelled and in it's stead there stood the latest in the line of people he had disappointed, he only hoped that there would be a better life for Amelia then there was for Claudia. Though rather then run into the arms of another man, Amelia sat beside him and offered him something that he was almost completely unfamiliar with, friendship.
Warmth of two kinds found his broken form, the first tears of remorse and sheer exhaustion, the other was Amelia's attempt at a reassuring embrace. For a moment her sympathetic touch managed to hold the grief at bay but the effort in light of their current circumstances was infinitesimal and the harrowing nature of their reality soon choked out any possible comfort Amelia's embrace could grant him. While Eobard may have shown some sort of unconscious response to the external machinations and movements, his focus was directed solely at the grim prospect of having to continue their flight from the ravenous dead, something he doubted his fatigued limbs could take, he needed rest. As he fought the urge to shed tears of exhaustion and self-pity, Amelia had set herself a task that was far more pragmatic, she was moving them inside the farmhouse, Eobard only hoped that the human carrion didn't attract any unwanted attention. Allowing Amelia to shoulder the both the weight of responsibility and of his despondent figure, Eobard managed to follow her lead and force his feet to lessen her burden.
Once they had staggered inside the homestead, Eobard was deposited on the first piece of furniture that looked as though it could hold his weight, which just happened to be a couch. Again powerless to help, as his limbs were sapped of their strength and motivation, Eobard simply watched as Amelia slipped off into the dark recesses of the building, only being able to hope that there was nothing sinister laying in wait for her. Now he was left in Reese's charge, much alike the boy had been in his care as they had run from Rick's botched attempt at slaughtering them earlier that day, the kid was the only good deed Eobard had evidence for and it warmed his heart somewhat that the teen had survived. Moving his eyes from his guard, Eobard took in his surroundings, it was obvious that they were currently situated in the family room and the couch he sat upon was at it's center.
Sitting beneath a rather gaudy portrait of the family he had just reunited, Eobard failed to emulate the faux gaiety that the painting exuded, in truth he could barely bring himself to maintain the same level of animation displayed in the picture. Slouching into one of the depressions in the couch left by the backsides of his absentee hosts, Eobard made himself as comfortable as possible given the rather uncomfortable and harrowing nature of their situation. Allowing his weary eyes to close, Eobard attempted to ignore the nagging sensation that was synonymous with being watched, it was clear that Reese had taken his assignment seriously. Without cracking open an eyelid, Eobard turned to face the boy, “Don't you think it might be slightly more productive if you were actually on watch, you know, rather then watching me? If you want to keep your skin intact, I'm not the one you have to be worried about.” Reese only huffed in response and as his footfalls grew fainter, Eobard knew the kid had taken his advice, now he could sleep in relative peace.
Though as Eobard sat in the most pleasant lodgings he had encountered for weeks, sleep still eluded him, and the nagging sensation remained, in fact the feeling only grew more ominous. Sighing as he opened a heavy eyelid, Eobard was presented with a rather confronting sight, Reese was standing above him with a panicked look, and a bloodied machete in his hands. While the expression could mean any number of things, the machete only left Eobard with two possible interpretations, one Reese had come to kill him with his own weapon, or the dead were upon them. Either explanation required Eobard to take immediate action to avoid an untimely end, and with a deft movement the beleaguered man managed to disarm the boy. Now in possession of the machete, Eobard moved to question Reese, “What the hell is going on?” It was obvious that the kid was distressed, Eobard hoped that it wasn't because he had just foiled an assassination attempt.
Without even opening his mouth, Reese made it abundantly clear what was going on, with a shaking hand, the kid pointed at the portrait behind Eobard and then gestured towards the outside. Despite the rigours that his body had endured, in light of the current circumstances managed to find the energy to move. The first thought on his mind was to find Amelia, if they were going to die, they were going to do so together, and if they were going to make it out of this they would need each other. As he and Reese crept through the house, they followed the only human sound, that of Amelia's weeping, ascending the stairs, they found her in a girl's bedroom. Before Eobard could say anything to her, the house was filled with a mighty voice, “We're coming in! Is there anybody home?” They had very little time to act, Eobard doubted he could take on these people in his current condition, he even found himself unsure as to whether he could run from them.
Grasping Amelia's hands with his, Eobard pulled his companion to her feet, he then began looking for a way out and it presented itself in a window. As Eobard made to open the small aperture, he also unwittingly made far more noise then he would have liked, doubtlessly alerting the people downstairs to their presence and his suspicions were confirmed with a thunderous clamour of footfalls. Tearing the window open, Eobard stepped to the side and motioned for one of his companions to go first, it was his fault the family were out for blood, he would be the one to face them. Reese was halfway out the window before the man had reached the room, and Eobard was halfway to the door before the man drew a beat on him, “Stand the fuck down!” Stopping in his tracks, Eobard noticed that the man was not present in the portrait downstairs, nor did he bear any resemblance to the farmer, in fact the man looked a bit like a scavenger.
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[style=font: 9px courier new; text-align: center; margin-top: -10px;] ♥ lucie from btn[/style] |
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Post by AMELIA ROSE LAWSON on Dec 18, 2012 5:51:01 GMT -5
The whirlwind of of emotions Amelia was experiencing clouded her mind as the trauma and the grief of the night’s tragic events caught up with her. Consumed by her tears, Amelia only became aware of the fact that there had been a break in as she felt Eobard pull her onto her feet. She didn’t have time to wipe her tears away or question Eobard’s abrupt actions before she heard footsteps stomping hurriedly up the stairs. A sense of dread and frustration swept over Amelia. She barely had time to wonder when she and the two other survivors would catch a break, as the stranger bursted through the door.
If Amelia hadn’t of been carrying the burden of exhaustion, she would have been inclined to put up a fight — like a frightened animal trapped in a corner by something potentially dangerous. Instead, she silently admitted defeat, preparing herself for her fate — whatever that meant. Despite all the other emotions that created the chaos in her mind, Amelia could at least be grateful of the fact that she, Eobard and Reese were in this together. They were her reason of existence now that she had given up hope in being reunited with her family. Without her fellow survivors, she might as well have been dead. She certainly felt like she had died and gone to Hell whenever reality and her mental state merged. Which was ironic for a Psychology college graduate.
“Who are you?...” Amelia asked the stranger, detachment lingering within her words as she stared at him with tear stained eyes. “I should ask you lot the same thing.” The man snapped gruffly. “We’re all survivors by the looks of it...” Amelia stated calmly before wiping away her tears with her sleeve as the stranger was joined by two more companions — another male and a female. “Why are there two corpses outside? I can tell that they weren’t walkers before they were killed.” The leading member of the team questioned. There was a long pause before Amelia spoke up, pained with traumatic memories that she was still attempting to process. “The owner of this house shot down one of our team while we were seeking shelter from a horde of the infected...the attack was unprovoked...he needed to be taken down...” She replied as simply as she could — not wanting to dawdle on something that continued to metaphorically rip apart her soul — emotion entering her voice for the first time since speaking with the intruders.
Amelia had no idea where the conversation was heading, she was merely playing along, particularly due to the fact that she was worn out — physically, mentally and emotionally. “That must be the same horde that cornered us...” The man went on, more to himself than the rest of the room. “Did you drive that truck here?” He referred to their form of transport. “Yes...” Amelia replied cautiously, anxious over what these people’s intentions were. Billy Ray’s face flashed passed her mind — it had been his truck, after all. “Well, I think that we can help each other out.” The man responded, his tone taking a turn and becoming more welcoming. “We’re not giving you our truck.” Amelia replied blatantly, a flicker of fierceness rising within her as she identified a potential threat. “Calm down, Princess. Me and my team just need a lift.” He stated, an amused smirk forming on his lips. “If you think, we’re going to risk our lives in order to spare yours...think again.” Amelia stood her ground. “Even if it means bringing you to a completely guarded safety zone?”
“A safety zone?” Amelia queried, not believing her ears. “Yep. A whole community with food, weapons...hot water. It’s our job to bring in survivors just like you. Let us bring you in and give you the shelter you’ve been searching for.” He went on, clearly pleased that he had sparked her interest. “How do we know we can trust you?” Amelia frowned. “You don’t.” He replied simply. “But you were taking risks before we came along. Why not take a risk on us?”
Amelia turned to look shift her gaze between Eobard and Reese, to obtain any indication as to what they thought about the group’s offer. Accepting their offer could lead to an improved existence, but it also could lead to their deaths if the group weren’t who they made themselves out to be. However, staying at the farmhouse, pondering over their next plan of attack, seemed to more uncertain than the other option. The leader of the group was right; they’d be taking a risk with or without them. Amelia found herself siding with the option that promised a specific destination, rather than the option that meant aimlessly staying alive with no real goal in mind — despite her lack of trust towards the newcomers.
“We’ll go with you.” She locked in their decision. “Excellent. Lead the way.” The man spoke with satisfaction, before Amelia exited the room (baseball bat still by her side) as her companions followed after her.
Downstairs the entrance hallway was inhabited by two more members of the intruder’s group — and they were carrying rifles. Amelia stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening at the new threat. “Relax, the guns are for slaying the infected, not survivors.” The leader of the group stated as he moved past Amelia. “Now, I suggest you all collect your belongings and we get moving.” Nodding, Amelia prepared herself for the task at hand.
Once the survivor’s possessions were obtained, Amelia dreaded the task that was on the other side of the door. Billy Ray still had the keys to their handy source of transportation...which meant someone would have to search his dead body and fish them out. Having no desire for Eobard or Reese to take on this burden, Amelia knew that someone would be her. Taking a deep breath, Amelia exited the house and without allowing herself to consider her task for a second time, Amelia dashed towards Billy Ray, frantically searching him for his keys before finding them in one of his jacket pockets. “I’m sorry...” She murmured to the lifeless body, her tears threatening to spill once more — she wiped them away before rising to her feet.
A part of Amelia felt the need to bury Billy Ray to give him the send off he deserved, but Amelia knew, that taking the time to bury him was a dangerous idea to play with since there was a chance that the intruders may have lead the horde of the infected in their direction. Without another word, Amelia handed the keys to the leader of the group, ditching their belongings in the bed of the truck before piling into the back seat with Eobard and Reese. Most of the scavengers took a place in the back of the truck while the leader and one other occupied the front seat, before the truck came to life.
Amelia struggled to stay awake...to keep an eye on where they were going before exhaustion took over and transported her into a deep sleep as her head occupied Eobard’s shoulder like a pillow...Amelia slept as they headed into the unknown...
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