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Post by SAMUEL LUCAS DENARA on Nov 20, 2012 20:45:00 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #1a1a1a; height:250px; width:416px; padding:10px;]I'm waking up, feel it in my bones enough to make my system blow
He had been on the move for what seemed like forever, but in reality it had only been a few months. Although a few months by yourself while your trying to fight to stay alive could and would seem like forever. The silver honda wasn't running the same since the day he'd left home in Arizona, in fact it had gotten so much worse, to the point where Sam wouldn't know if it would make it to this so called 'safe place' in Pennsylvania. His beat up old car was almost useless when driving it to and from classes, but now.. well it was one step away from being scrap metal. He had heard from various travelers about Henley Falls. It was worth a shot anyway, it wasn't like he had any other place to go that wasn't infested with zombies already. So he took his chance and set off by himself. He voted that he would stay by himself, because something always got slowed when several people were involved. It was like that with everything in Sam's eyes. He did his school projects, papers and experiments alone.He shopped alone and ate alone. He had friends and only chose to be with them when something didn't need to get done. None of his friends had turned up along this journey so far anyway, so he felt no need to make any exceptions.
Coming from Arizona to Pennsylvania was a long ass trip, but hardly cost him anything in the long run. There were no tolls on the major highways since most people abandoned this post because of the unsafe conditions and anytime Sam needed gas well... the gas pumps were abandoned too. The roads were long and harsh and he had come to know the zombies pretty well along the way. The silver car was smeared with dirt and dried up blood from the numerous times he'd hit the damn things as they came running to try and devour him.
Winter in Arizona was nonexistent. They never even came close to getting snow and probably would never in Sam's lifetime. Though the farther east he went, the chillier things became. It was technically only fall but it was still colder than anything Sam was used to. The young man wasn't used to this type of weather, but he was smart enough to stock up on warmer clothes the closer he got to Pa. According to the road signs he was in Pennsylvania, but at the same time Henley Falls could be anywhere in Pa... and he wasn't seeing a flashing sign and probably wouldn't for the safe haven... if there even was one.
Pushing his curls away from his brown eyes, Sam tried to get the car started again. He had it parked underneath an overpass for the night while he tried to get some sleep, wrapping blankets and sweatshirts around him for warmth, but now with the morning light reaching him Sam knew he was in for trouble if he couldn't get the Honda moving. He cursed under his breath and clenched his teeth while turning the key harder in the ignition. The Honda sputtered several times and then came to a dead silence every time. Sam slammed his hands on the steering wheel and carefully got out the car, looking around before popping the hood of his car. Between the wear and tear and now the cold, the old honda was on it's last leg. It was the battery and there was nothing Sam could do about it now... it wasn't like before. He couldn't just call someone to help him, and god knows where the nearest store was anyway. He took a deep breath and leaned against the dirty car, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples before angrily grabbing his backpack and a few other things.
He dug around in his car for the bottle, finally grasping it he popped it open and turned it over. His heart sank and he shook the bottle harder. Nothing came out. How didn't he realize he was out of medication before hand? He took a breath and tried to relax. He would have to make a pit stop anyway. Throwing the empty bottle in his back pack he shoved off and started to walk. He didn't know where to go, but he made sure he had a few weapons on him just in case he ran into trouble.
The day passed by slowly, but he was soon walking up along a lake. The wind chill made things ten times worse, but Sam tried not to think about it, instead he focused on the dark colored water and the small ripples made by the wind. He narrowed his eyes and looked past it, seeing what seemed to be like a fence not too far past the lake a head of him. The young man had no idea it was Henley Falls, but it was at least something he could take shelter in for the night. He hadn't came into contact with a zombie just yet today, and he was planning on keeping it that way. It was a lot safer with a car... and with his medication too. That he needed to make sure he'd find. He went to take a step forward when his body lurched and he gasped. "Fuck...." He mumbled before his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground in a fit. This seizure had been particularly bad of course and the young man wasn't able to regain consciousness afterward.... words (###) tags (Open) muse (Kickin') comments (Post away my friends. He needs help.) lyrics (Radioactive by Imagine Dragons)
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Post by VELVET on Nov 30, 2012 16:10:34 GMT -5
[/style][style=width: 358px; padding: 20px; background-color: #000; color: #999; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: garamond; font-style: italic; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; border-right: 1px dotted #0A0A0A; border-left: 1px dotted #0A0A0A;]Point and shoot, I know just what you mean
In a world that's full of shit and gasoline
Lake Henley lay mere minutes’ walk outside the so-called safe zone, but as soon as one stepped outside the boundary of those fences that bordered Henley Falls, the distance may as well have been miles. As each city fell to the claws of the undead – as the dwindling numbers of remaining survivors scattered and fled to the four corners of the continent – the infected travelled further and further out into the rural areas in search of prey, driven by no power but their own infernal hunger. A few more each day would be found rattling uselessly at the metal fences outside the compound, their slack grey faces showing that eerie blankness of expression even as hunters and law enforcement snipers picked them off as if for target practice. Sylvia had been living in Henley Falls a little under a month, but she felt no safer than when she had been traversing the ruins of the eastern states with a treacherous band of renegades, nothing more solid for a vehicle for protection. The baleful canticles of undead moans haunted her every night, carried by the wind into the room assigned to her as ‘home’; it was an ever-present reminder that everything would crumble and all would be lost if even one zombie was to breach the haven’s walls.
Work occupied her days; leisure was something of the past, banished to memories of simpler times. A small foraging party had been sent out for the routine task of collecting water, a task much more arduous than it sounded. Even with the strict rationing laws in place in the community and scarcity preventing frequent washing, supplies dwindled at an alarming rate given the size of the population; and it was vital that everything brought in must be purified. Cholera was no longer the worst disease that could be contracted from drinking something contaminated by decomposing tissue. The undead had no need to breathe, their lungs and hearts lying dormant in their chests; it wouldn’t be the first time that someone had dipped their hand into the unfathomable black depths of the lake only to find it grasped by a bloated, waterlogged hand that had been mottled by rot.
The group had an equal concentration of hunters and scavengers, as decreed by the law enforcement. While keeping within a reasonable distance of the others, Sylvia had gone a little way ahead; with her furtive movement and quick observation, one of her duties was to behave as a scout and make warnings about potential threats and points of danger. The wide, flat, open landscape betrayed no sign of lurching silhouettes on the horizon, but the high visibility here was a vulnerability as much for the survivors as to their enemies, and the lack of foliage cover set her on edge. Avoidance was the best form of defence. The wind whipped her blonde hair around her face, beating at the scratched up pair of binoculars hanging around her neck. Sylvia went through a mental inventory of her weaponry. Steel crowbar, edge sharpened like a razor: good as a bludgeon, keen enough to stab through the eye socket to the brain. Double use for prying open doors. Short blade concealed on her person for use in scavenging and, as a backup in dire situations, hand to hand combat: options include the temple or the base of the skull. A shotgun and its ammunition was too heavy for the amount of running she must do; she left the firearms to the hunters.
The rough, tussocky grass was too overgrown for her to see the body on the ground until she was upon it – too overgrown for her to realise that the slight movement of the blades was not from the stir of the wind, but due to the twitching limbs of the young man who lay in front of her. She had to silence her sharp intake of breath. Then, suddenly, the twitching ceased and the body lay still.
Shit.
No visible bite marks – but that meant nothing. She took a step back, craning her neck to scan her surroundings, mind racing through the possibilities and estimating the distance of the hunters only to realise she couldn’t afford to wait. To call for them would be too high a risk: the noise would merely attract attention to her position and act as a beacon to the zombie— or zombies— that had felled the refugee. He hadn’t turned yet – it could take anything from a matter of hours to a split second, one could never predict how fast the virus might travel through the bloodstream – but it had been long since drilled into her to take precautionary measures, to avoid suicidal heroism. She wouldn’t wait until reanimation had caused him to rise with his teeth bared before she struck. Certainty was a luxury the living could no longer afford.
Steeling herself and taking aim, Sylvia wrapped her shaking hands more firmly around her jagged crowbar and raised it above her head to swing the deadly blow.
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Post by SAMUEL LUCAS DENARA on Dec 3, 2012 21:28:13 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #1a1a1a; height:250px; width:416px; padding:10px;]I'm waking up, feel it in my bones enough to make my system blow
Coming to after a seizure was not the best way he'd like to wake up. It was never a walk in the park even after waking up. Sam felt as if he were floating in a stream for what seemed like forever before he could grasp the concept that he needed to wake up. Whatever was pulling him back to reality was pulling strong and fast. It was a convulsion that was almost desperate with need. He was about to come to when he remembered where he was and how dangerous it could be for him to be laying around with a world now full of zombies. With a quick intake of breath that came sharply into his lungs, his chest rose and his eyes shot open. Forget about the normal routine of waking up, his heart nearly stopped at he image of a woman standing above him, ready to swing something at his head. With a throaty yelp he held up his hands, "Whoa! Whoa! What the f-" despite the shakiness, the young man abandoned his voice and rolled to the left, to get away from the heavy blow of whatever was in the chick's hands. Confusion swirled around his already foggy brain as he rolled onto his stomach, shoving his hands underneath him as he tried to make a hasty get away. Seems like it wasn't only the virals he had to watch out for. With a hefty grunt Sam was up on unsteady feet, chest heaving and brown eyes wide as he stared at the woman. Could he run? What was she doing? Was she going to come after him? He wasn't going to stick around to find out.
Swinging his head to look in her direction, he took a few steps forward only to slid to the right and land on his side. The ground was spinning and his legs felt like jello. These fucking seizures would end up being the death of him.. or at least aid in it. His hair fell in his face as he faced the ground now after rolling over, trying quickly to get a safe distance away from the woman. When his body wouldn't cooperate with him, he finally let out a huff of frustration and he laid on his side, grabbing at his pockets to pull out a knife. Breathlessly he eyed the woman now, giving her a look of a caged animal ready to fight for it's life. "I don't know what the hell your problem is, but I don't plan on dying right now so I'd advise you put the crowbar down." His thread may have sounded nasty, but he looked like a mess and obviously couldn't stand without falling over. words (###) tags (Open) muse (Kickin') comments (Post away my friends. He needs help.) lyrics (Radioactive by Imagine Dragons)
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Post by VELVET on Dec 10, 2012 15:21:27 GMT -5
[/style][style=width: 358px; padding: 20px; background-color: #000; color: #999; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: garamond; font-style: italic; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; border-right: 1px dotted #0A0A0A; border-left: 1px dotted #0A0A0A;]Point and shoot, I know just what you mean
In a world that's full of shit and gasoline
She had been ready to strike; it was only by some act of God or devil that she didn’t. Her arm would arc, and then the velocity of the light metal weapon would connect with tissue and crush bone in one sickening crunch– but that idealised blow was not the blow Sylvia was mentally preparing herself for. She was anticipating one where an overzealous swing would throw her off balance, where she wouldn’t hit with enough force, where vulnerability exposed for a fraction of a second would allow newly reanimated arms to grab her in a stranglehold. Even the slightest surface wound would see her infected – the trivial was turned life-threatening. These thoughts raced through her head in the space of merely a few seconds’ hesitation. The sudden movement of the corpse’s eyelids snapping open caught Sylvia off guard, sending a bolt of nauseating fear shooting through her body. Instinctively she stumbled backwards, ready to run. The responses of her body disobeyed her mind – and she was sure that disconnect would be the death of her.
But instead of a low, guttural moan, she heard him utter a string of coherent exclamations. He was human. More than still alive—still conscious, still sentient. Her mind registered no relief that danger had been, by chance, evaded. Nor did Sylvia feel guilt or horror at the deadly mistake she had nearly committed. It was true that she had killed few zombies in her time, but she understood that it was an inevitable risk that one day you might perhaps kill someone still a person. It was a risk that would never cause her sleepless nights. Now more than ever, it was every woman for herself.
She lowered the crowbar and loosened her grip on it as he rolled to the side, trying to evade the bludgeon she would not now deliver. His failed attempts to scramble away did nothing to assuage her suspicion – was he injured? feverish? Sickness was once something that elicited pity, but now it was a warning sign. She stood her ground, watching him warily; every muscle in her thin body was tensed. The knife caused her to edge backwards, calculating whether she would have the upper hand if this came to a physical altercation. She ignored his words entirely.
When she spoke, her voice was low; she didn’t want to draw attention given their surroundings. “Are you bit?” But for all its quietness, her tone conveyed a hard, uncompromising urgency that would only take the truth. “Are you bit? Where did you get attacked? Near the lake?”
She needed to know if there were infected here. Every minute that passed, she grew more concerned about the distance between herself and the rest of her raiding group.
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Post by SAMUEL LUCAS DENARA on Dec 12, 2012 11:19:16 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #1a1a1a; height:250px; width:416px; padding:10px;]I'm waking up, feel it in my bones enough to make my system blow
Samuel looked at the woman like she was crazy. Still on his side, he let the hand with the knife in it fall to the ground in an effort to steady himself. He panted still, and his heart was still racing but at least she wasn't coming after him just yet. "I'm not bit at all." He said, letting his head hit the dying yellowish grass underneath him. He let out a sickened groan, let his eyes slid closed for just a second in an attempt to keep the world some spinning any more. He then registered her whispering and his eyes opened, one narrowed slightly as he tried to understand why she was acting so strange. Yeah, zombies were running rampant, but why bother whispering? They would find them if they were close by anyway. He had no idea where he was, and that she was from the very place he was trying to get to. He was also afraid to say anything else to her in the state he was in... that and the fact that she had a crowbar in her hands. It dawned on him that she figured something was wrong with him since he was falling around like a drunk and had just been convulsing on the ground... whether she saw that or not he didn't know. "I'm not going to be a zombie... just sick.. In another way... not the bad way..." He shoved his knife into his pocket and then swallowed rather dryly as his breath finally started to slow down. He decided if she was going to kill him then so be it, at least he wouldn't turn into one of the virals.
It took a couple more seconds but eventually the world stopped spinning enough for him to sit up. He then heard the sounds of other people and his eyes darted back to her. "Where are you from? And how many people are following?" He said with a cautious air to him. He came from California and had no idea what people were like on the east coast, whether they had given up all hope and became savages or something, he didn't know. He traveled by himself and had no other weapons ever since his Honda died. The knife was all he had and would not in a million years take out more than one person. His dark brown eyes stayed glued to the woman standing before him, hoping she had answers and wasn't as crazy as he thought she was..... words (###) tags (Open) muse (Kickin') comments (Post away my friends. He needs help.) lyrics (Radioactive by Imagine Dragons)
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Post by VELVET on Dec 14, 2012 9:05:21 GMT -5
[/style][style=width: 358px; padding: 20px; background-color: #000; color: #999; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: garamond; font-style: italic; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; border-right: 1px dotted #0A0A0A; border-left: 1px dotted #0A0A0A;]Point and shoot, I know just what you mean
In a world that's full of shit and gasoline
Sylvia watched the man struggle without pity. Groans; rapid, shallow breathing; he couldn’t even manage to keep the knife raised. He denied that he had been bitten, but that denial sounded like a lie – she didn’t believe him at all. She kept quiet, pressing her lips tightly together, her eyes darting quickly as she watched him. By now one of the hunters and another scavenger were hurrying towards her to find out what was going on, but she wouldn’t step any closer to the man until they arrived, in case he grabbed her. She secured the buckles on the pack on her back, hoisting it up on her narrow shoulders. Something told her that this raid was going to be cut short.
“Henley Falls,” she said. “The haven – it’s about two miles north of here.” It was a short enough distance that it would make sense to walk, were it not for the heavy cargo they collected when scavenging at the lake, or the fact that a vehicle offered some protection from the lurking dangers. But with fuel becoming more and more scarce, Sylvia wasn’t sure how much longer they would have that luxury for anything but the most vital journeys.
“There are three people with me. Armed,” she said. She didn’t mention the fact that one would be staying with the vehicle. “Are—were you alone?”
Judging by his tone of voice and the expression with which he surveyed her, the man saw her as paranoid and overreacting. Sylvia was not concerned. All of his symptoms suggested he had contracted the infection; the fact that he had no visible bite marks meant nothing. She had seen people turn from having infected blood spatter into their eyes or mouths, transferring the disease without so much as broken skin. Or if he wasn’t infected, this could be some kind of ruse; he could be the decoy for accomplices about to set an ambush to steal their supplies. She knew that trick from experience. These days, there was no length to which people wouldn't go.
She had dropped the crowbar to hang loosely by her side, but her body language still seemed guarded. “What’s wrong with you?”
ooc: I think we should get a hunter character in here. I could throw Connor in if you want. |
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Post by SAMUEL LUCAS DENARA on Dec 18, 2012 10:18:23 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #1a1a1a; height:250px; width:416px; padding:10px;]I'm waking up, feel it in my bones enough to make my system blow
His brown eyes narrowed slightly when she spoke, "You've got to be kidding me?" He said, weighing his options. Should he trust these people? Where they're raiders outside of Henley that killed anyone who got too close? He had no choice in a way, either he'd trust them or he'd die out here with the Virals. He blinked a few times before sighing. He didn't want to let these people take him away, especially in the condition he was in. He needed to start looking for medication. He swallowed when she said three, all of them armed. Great. Well, if he was going to die he'd rather it be quick with a knife than linger in constant pain before he turned. Shoving his knife away, He tried to steady himself before pushing himself up into a sitting position. "I came alone." He said shortly, feeling slightly guilty at all the people he'd passed in his car on the way here. "I lived in California and left as soon as the virus hit, hoping it was calmer over on the East Coast... but I guess I was wrong." He said, referring to the surrounding area. "I heard about Henley and thought I'd try to find it before I got killed, so I could at least go down with a purpose in mind." He mumbled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck and grimacing.
His curly black hair hung in his eyes slightly, but he managed to get onto his feet. He was wobbly, and wished he could be going about this in a different way. "I need help getting there. I have no idea where I'm going and don't feel very good." He said this with a wary look in his eyes as he watched the woman standing before him, now spotting the group of people closing in on them. "I had a seizure. I get them when I'm dehydrated." He lied, not wanting her to know he relied on medication to keep them at bay. He was not going to be known as weak, not here... not at his time.... words (###) tags (Open) muse (Kickin') comments (Post away my friends. He needs help.) lyrics (Radioactive by Imagine Dragons)
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OOC:Yeah, that would be awesome. I can bring in Alex too. |
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Post by CONNOR JOHN O'BROGAN on Dec 19, 2012 17:31:18 GMT -5
[/style][style=width: 358px; padding: 20px; background-color: #000; color: #999; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: garamond; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; border-right: 1px dotted #0A0A0A; border-left: 1px dotted #0A0A0A;]No it don't mean all that much to us boy, We never really had a choice— We're conscience killers, Don't want no conscience at all Connor had always said it was a bad idea for Sylvia to separate from the group, but that insidious bint had a way of going against whatever he reasoned without ever directly contradicting him. He had been with the rest of the raiding group when he had heard something of a commotion, and without conversing with or waiting for the others he had charged off towards it to find — and hopefully put a bullet through — its cause. That sullen blonde might look a little less sullen after a good hard rescuing.
But when he drew up close to the altercation, instead of fair maiden cowering away from zombie horde, he found Sylvia and her crowbar looming over a rather feeble-looking and decidedly human teenager.
He came to a halt and shouldered his shotgun, grinning cheerfully as his gaze flickered from one person to the other. He laid a hand on Sylvia's back.
"A'ight darlin, what's occurring?"
Sylvia glanced at him with an expression that he couldn't read, or perhaps merely chose not to. She shifted uncomfortably, surreptitiously taking a step back so that Connor was closer to the unknown man than she was. Connor watched her all the while, that stupid grin still on his face, as he waited for an explanation.
"I thought he was dead," she said. "He was unconscious. Says he had some kind of fit. Says he's not infected."
Her voice was monotone, utterly neutral; but her phrasing betrayed obvious doubt. To Connor it sounded more like she was trying to persuade him to be cautious (a losing battle if there ever was one) than asking for a true second opinion. His eyes scanned Samuel's face and body as she spoke. In this cold season the stranger was wearing too many clothes and had too little exposed skin for any potential bite marks to be visible, but his appearance didn't look disheveled enough for him to be a survivor of a recent walker attack.
"Eh, he looks pretty alive to me— not gonna say healthy, mind, but if the young gen'leman says he's sound, we take it he's sound. That's not our problem, you know what I'm saying? That's for Quarantine to decide."
The kid had a look in his eye like a prey animal backed into a corner. Connor felt rather sorry for him.
"What've you been doing, waving that rusty twig and interrogating him? That's no kind of welcome for the sorry bugger." He thrust his hands into his jeans pockets, then thought better of it and clapped an over-friendly hand on Samuel's shoulder. "Don't mind her, mate, her bite is worse than her bark. You come back to the ol' ranch with us, we'll get you sorted out proper."
ooc: using the same template and the image from his app because I'm lazy. |
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Post by ALEXANDER RYAN VARDEN on Dec 28, 2012 11:34:25 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #1a1a1a; height:250px; width:416px; padding:10px;]Tell me, are you a Bad Fish too? Won't somebody get me off of this reef
Alex wasn't too far behind Connor a slight sigh escaping his lips at the commotion that had started over something he was sure didn't really matter. Bringing up the rear, the beast of a man had two rifles strapped to his back with a cross strap of ammo over his chest and a belt full of knives. He wasn't a joke when it came to raids, the town hadn't been around that long, but Alex was considered a veteran when it came to raids. He was out almost everyday on the things, slaughtering the virals and protecting those scavengers that were lucky enough to be standing by him.
The tall brute came up alongside the group of people right as Sylvia spoke about the young kid that was just a few feet to the right of him. Alex stayed quiet while she spoke, and then eyed her expression, then he looked over to Connor, who didn't seem to mind talking. Alex cleared his throat once and then looked at the curly headed young kid again before Connor went up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. "He's right, Quarantine seems to be the one to solve the problems, but at the same time it won't help us if he turns while were walking him back." He said with an almost bitter tone as he looked the boy up and down. Alex was more cautious than Connor seemed, and he almost wanted to side with Sylvia on this one. His mind wandered back to Lily, his own sister that was brought in from the open. He wouldn't leave her alone outside for the thousands years, and he help some sort of pity for the young man, he couldn't be older than Lily anyway.
Looking over to the blond woman, he nodded his head. "We'll cut the raid short and get this kid back to the haven." His blue eyes seemed to cut right through people, it was something he was aware of so when he turned back to the kid he glared. "It would be wise to come clean now if you had honestly been bitten." He said this before looking to Connor, and then shaking his head as he turned on his heel and walked away. Since the other hunter seemed so welcoming, he could assist the kid on getting back, there was no way Alex would get too close to the kid just encase. He hated to admit it, but it was every man for themselves out here now, if people wanted to welcome random people in with open arms... well he wouldn't help them if they got attacked by a newly changed viral.
As Alex started to make his way back toward the truck, he turned and eyed the dark haired kid. "How old are you?" His tone wasn't all that friendly, in fact it was almost demanding. He tended to be that way toward people he didn't know, and it only got worse as the world seemed to take a turn for the worst.
words (###) tags (Open) muse (Kickin') comments (Same template too xD ) lyrics (Badfish by Sublime)
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