✖CONTAINMENT✖

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Mglo

Mglo

Whatever you do, do it with style.
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
As long as the plot's good I'm in. That says nothing useful though... so I'll say: sci-fi, fantasy, I'm curious enough about horror to add it, aaaand action? yeah, ok, sure, action!
✖LUXEMBOURG✖ ✖STORY ✖Characters ✖Character Sheet ✖Extra Info
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  • The year is 2164.

    My name is Royce Elliot and I am a survivor by association, at least for the past four years. I've been asked to write down everything I know, and have lived through, before arriving here.

    Let's start at the beginning of the end, 4 years ago. The first outbreak.
    You'd think a technologically advanced society like ours could handle a little virus. In fact, we could. We'd done it before. The difference this time around was that THE virus had corporate backing. It was designed to be a biological weapon. The first outbreak was caused by accidental contamination during testing. No biggie. The corporate hands covered it up as a new strain of the flu while they cleaned up their mess. What they didn't count on, was for it to mutate so rapidly and so dangerously. Who was infected? Who wasn't? We couldn't even tell.

    Our advanced technology bit us right in the ass when we most needed it.
    By the time they figured it out, that the virus had spread among us without notice, it was too late. Suddenly people fell ill and started dying. Except, they didn't stay quite dead. One bite, enough contact with their fluids and it was over. We threw all our technology at it, but only accomplished to destroy our surroundings. We destroyed a lot of our technology in the process. We were afraid and stupid, and not at all united. Each country did its own thing and later regretted it.

    Some genius and his squad in Scotland created a safe city they called Leven. To my knowledge then, the only of its kind. A city untouched by the living dead. Now I know better, but I digress. Leven remained intact thanks to the charismatic leaders. But they were all powerful in that city and power changes people. In their hands Leven became a dystopian society. A totalitarian regime.

    The regime controlled everything using fear tactics on the population. Feelings and artistic expression were outlawed. Citizens were required to take a daily dose of emotion suppressants. Citizens were content to exist to continue their existence. They did not realize they were not really living. We were a different type of Zombie in Leven.

    Thankfully I worked for the Technology Division, led by the aforementioned genius, and I worked directly for him. That saved me from the drug he ironically created, but it also saved me from Leven. He and his leader friend, Preston, planned to overthrow the tyranny but their plan took too long. The ideology was sealed and Leven could not be truly saved. Instead, we escaped, along with a couple citizens and refugees for whom there was still hope.

    Alas, during our escape and the storm that helped bring about Leven's end, we were separated. We have not heard from Preston Wiles or Nicolas Rio, but we did leave behind messages in case they are still looking for us. We, on the other hand, reached a safe zone in London from which we were soon kicked out. The child, Rosalina, turned out to be infected... we didn't know. We vouched for her and when she turned and killed a Londoner we were thrown out. A fisherman was nice enough to take us to the mainland, he said we wouldn't find another safe zone in the UK. We spent over a month near the shore because the mainland zombies turned out to be very much different from the ones we knew. Somewhere at the border of France and Belgium, we were found by a group of people that helped us out. It took a while, but eventually they came to trust us and invited us to Luxenbourg, a very large safe zone maintained by the allied forces of Germany, France, and Belgium.

    Luxenbourg is still beautiful despite the disasters that have befallen us all, but it is also a highly organized and meticulously kept. It is an ant colony in many ways. It has to be, considering the zombie mutations that have happened in the area. I'm more of an intellectual, particularly when it comes to organizational situations, and so I have been assigned to a position far away from the borders. I will be safe so long as this country stands. I'm not sure that the others will be so lucky. They've been in training as far as I've been told, although training for what? That I haven't been informed. Time's up. Back to work.

    Royce Elliott​

    ​

  • 3 Character Limit​
    ALIVE IN DANGER DEAD




  • Your character sheet can be as simple or extensive as you wish. Most of the action should happen IC, but it would be interesting to know some details about your character that might be unlikely for us to find out through IC. Up to you.
    ✖ ✖ ✖

    Name:

    Age: (No restrictions, but keep In mind that in case of a confrontation the younger ones, i.e. kids, are more likely to die D: )

    Gender:

    Origin: (For all we know you were a tourist that got stuck In Lux during the outbreak. Or, like Royce's group, you come from somewhere else. Mebbe, you've been here all along but that means you could be German, Belgian, or French too.)

    Occupation: (can be the occupation they had before outbreak if they're still employing those skills, or occupation in Luxembourg safe zone, or if they're new to Lux then your planned job in there)

    Appearance: (Picture and/or description is fine. No restrictions on pictures but if you're going to do a real person don't pick someone widely known.)

    Personality:

    Biography:

    Weapon: This is on the sci-fi side so no limitations here either, so long as you keep in mind that more technologically advanced weapons have a limiter. As in, most people are citizens turned soldiers, they only have a basic training and understanding of things so they're not going to engineer/invent/fix advanced technology on the spot. Unless, you were some sort of a weapon designer in your pre-outbreak occupation. *shrugs* Just keep things logical.

    Relationships:(Any connections to the other characters. You can add this as we go or pre-establish it by contacting others. I'm more than willing to help with that so PM me!)


  • >>>Summary of Events<<<
    Co-mod: @ItariChan

    Guidelines
    I won't deny a character so long as they're internally consistent.
    Don't be a dick to other players even if your character is a dick.
    use gud grammahr
    So long as you keep things logical, you have free reign of this RP world.
    If you go a bit nuts I'll step in, but I'm not a control freak type GM.
    I'll be throwing things at you, and have a vaguely organized chapter-like deal going on.
    No mercenaries, assassins, thieves, and the like (unless it's a side-job/behind closed doors type of thing)
    lu-2_zpspp0uxd32.gif

    Stuff from the Group RP AD​
    Newly created RP... sorta. It's more of a Season 2 of an old RP but starting fresh and from zero. Storyline pretty much summarizes it all and there's relatively little info about this new one because I'm a believer in incorporating player ideas. Basically, and I sort of hinted at it, this RP will take place in an ant colony sort of safe zone where everybody works together and cares for each other. The particular family-feel comes from the fact that zombie mutations in the area have these people much more cornered than the typical zombie creation. Having said that, it doesn't mean that everybody is all about love and peace, on the contrary, survival life with the constant threat of a zombie breach pushes some into ruthlessness.... yeh. Ask away, make suggestions, please! It helps me give this more shape and lead it in the direction, more or less, that the group wants.

    Zombie mutations: Think resident evil, bio-mechas, uh... what's that other game with the- Left 4 dead.

    Weapons: I'm inclined to allow mechas since this safe zone is more extensive and we have the cooperation of 4 countries so resources should be enough to have and maintain a few mechas.

[btn=modc|https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/containment.140623/page-2|self]OOC & SIGNUPS[/btn]​
 
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✖ Death Round 1: Results
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It's a Thursday night in the Luxembourg safe zone. the intruders continue their hunt as the Lux armed forces hunt them back. Lighting remains minimal and the light rain continues to fall. Most of Luxembourg is still but for the 17th and 18th sector as well as their surroundings. Death has already been dealt to many of its citizens, and continues to be an imminent threat to most in that area.
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The clock strikes 3:46am as the parent drops from the sky, breaking the squad's formation lest they be crushed. At the same time, Antoinette and Remy turned a corner at full speed wondering why the streets were so empty only to be faced with the clear explanation. The school was moving on building walls, converging, near the parent.
Andrew Jackson spotted them first. He ran to cover for them, pulling the nearest private with him. Richie. On the other side Sergeant Clarke stammered to get the rest of Squad 4 back in formation while the woman, Rene, called for the mecha unit stat. Parent located. Immediate backup needed.
Harriet, who had walked out of her home earlier to help the struggling teenagers, had taken a shortcut with Diesel's help to locate them. Unfortunately, her charitable heart had lead her straight into the same mortal situation the teens now faced.
"This way," Andrew indicated in vain as Antoinette was glued to her spot by the mere shock of it all. Surely, this was not survivable! Remy was on his knees, already defeated. "There's a lot of them! There's too many of them!" Richie squealed frantically as he violently pulled on Remy. The school closed in on them as the Parent's snouts sought Sergeant Clark and his squad, Harriet stood by its side, her back against a building wall. Diesel whimpered confused, he'd been well trained to distract but there were simply too many creatures and even the dog knew it was pointless to fight when this cornered.

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[spoili]
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[/spoili]​
It was Richie's gun that broke the spell. His trigger happy fingers filled the area with banging sounds. The G47's bullets were mosquito bites to the parent. Members of the school dropped like flies from the building walls but their numbers were inconsequential when considering the sheer amount of them.
One steel-like limb swung around in blind reaction, inevitably catching Harriet by surprise on her side. The parent's limb had moved much like a cow's tail whips around to shoo off the flies. Harriet hadn't stood a chance, not at that distance. Diesel howled a whimper and ran, following his owner's corpse to its landing. He smelled her hair and licked at her cheek, and she did not stir.

The school, on the other hand, had not remained as unaffected as the parent at the loss of their like. In a swarm they crawled towards Richie, their claws clicking on brick walls and pavement. Andrew knew there was no way to reach the Squad, not without having to run past the parent, and he knew Richie's lack of experience had secured not only his death, but likely all four of theirs. Nevertheless, the man bravely yanked on Antoinette, pulling her to follow him. Richie would be one distraction. Next, he pulled Remy's face up to his and yelled at him to run. Such a violent scream made Remy tear up, but he stood up and did as he was told though defeat was still in his mind. Had the young man still held onto hope he might have died. Instead, his hopelessness allowed him to run and to run straight towards the parent though he trembled with fear. Antoinette had not been so lucky for her fighting spirit betrayed her steps causing her to falter. Every cell in her body told her not to run in that direction, but what other choice was there? Andrew trailed behind, leaving Richie to spend his ammunition and violently, inevitably, die in a swarm.

As the parent's body mass shifted, Andrew took aim and fired. All bullets aimed to the opposite side of its body, making it whip its limbs again as if swatting flies though its focus steered its limbs slightly away from the side on which the teens were running. Remy ran, eyes closed with fear and yearning for a quick death. Private Byron Kimball caught him and pulled him back into the Squad's limited protection. Antoinette's run faltered just enough for a stray violent limb to tear a leg clean off from underneath her. She fell with a scream and in that instant Andrew was there, next to her taking aim. As if silently communicating, Edwin Raines had run towards them as well, quickly tying something round her thigh to limit the bleeding. Unfortunately, it was too little too late, even with the squad backing them up the parent had tired of the flies, suddenly deciding that whipping at them wasn't enough and that only feasting on them would make the buzzing stop...


Deaths This Round:
Harriet Bell Weaver
Andrew Jackson
Antoinette Delafosse
Richie - NPC
Edwin Raines - NPC

In danger to die in the next round:
Elizabeth Rose Harver @CookieMonster
Remy @Lackluster
Vitali @Malfis
Mihail and Vera @Drifter
 
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Location: Mihail's Place
Near: Mihail, Vitali, Saoirse, and Dallis

There wasn't much to piece together any grand outfit, but Rómulo was the type to make most things look good and he knew it. Still, it was a matter of style, thus, looking good wasn't enough to fit the situation. For all he knew his death could be gruesome and not good looking at all, but with style at least some poor soul contemplating his deathly visage could think something like "that must have been a pretty cool outfit without all that blood..."

Rómulo's body sagged against the closet door frame and sighed, "why am I thinking like Preston right now?" he scolded himself. He never thought he'd miss those days. Then again, how could he not now that pre-zombie times seemed like a far of dream. A non-reality. He settled for something simple and most form fitting though he'd hoped for a bit more length in some areas but it would have to do.
As he limped painfully towards the kitchen he heard the shots. He half-crouched in confusion. Should he duck and cover or run? Yeah right, like he could run. He let his body drop to close to the ground, a pissed off grimace on his face as his leg faintly screamed. Then he heard it, a familiar voice. Carefully he stood back up and hurried as best he could to the living room. "Saoirse?" He called out a little too late before turning his eyes back to the cop and the pajama man.

"Shit. That was two gunshots," he declared the obvious wide-eyed. "What moron does that?!" He said offended but it suddenly occurred to him that it might not have been idiocy, not if there had been no other way... which mean, they were in a shit area if someone with a reasonable mind thought it was necessary to shoot a gun when a bloody school was about!

"We need to get out! Have they said anything on the broad-" Rómulo cut himself off as he watched the screen and read the letters:
SECTOR 17 AND 18 ARE CRITICAL AREAS. STAY INDOORS. NEARBY SECTORS EVACUATE.​

"Fuck that! I'm not staying in a fucking 'critical area'! That means the fucking parent is here and I'm not going to wait for that motherfu-" his leg felt a jolt of electricity and he knew. He knew going outside was suicide but he hated the idea of getting killed as he waited a whole lot more than dying out there trying to survive. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe he was stupid, but his rule was to follow his gut and intuition told him to run... or at last limp away. And so he did, Rómulo limped his way towards the back door and took a broomstick with him into the light rain outside.
 
[fieldbox= Government Stables, goldenrod, dashed, 10"]Farm boy wasn't too happy with decision, but luckily his friend was so the three of them set off, with Siemen leading the way. It was a good thing that one of them knew Saorise and Dallis. It would be easier to find them, and it also probably meant that Siemen was not the only victim of their teasing (I mean, Tristan looks like a doormat, no way they would let him go right?) "My names Siemen by the way." he told them as they were walking. "I'm taking you guys to the government stables where we keep the farm animals. I'm not really supposed to do this so if someone finds out, it wasn't me." Siemen really didn't want to do this, but he figured the only way to satisfy Cedric was to put his horse in the fortified stables reserved for government use. Luckily, it wasn't too far from where they were.

It took them about 10 minutes to get there, and it was of course locked. But Siemen was at picking locks, so it didn't take long for him to open the heavy metal doors. "See? You're horse will be safe in here. Now hurry up and get in there so we can go look for Dallis and Saoirse."

Siemen's phone made a beeping noise, indicating a government message, which he quickly read. "The parent's around Sector 17 and 18. We'll probably find them shooting at the stragglers around those areas." It was at this moment Siemen started regretting asking for their help. They were just civilians. They didn't have guns. What would he do if they were attacked by a group of zombies?
[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox= Behind Mihail's Home, limegreen, solid, 10"]It didn't take long for Saoirse and Dallis to find the lone zombie and kill it. The poor bugger hadn't made it to the party by the parent where all the others were. Suddenly, Saoirse's phone started vibrated twice, indicating that the government had just issued an important message. It was a good thing she brought it. She held it up for Dallis to see. "Looks like the parent and the rest of the zombies are all at Sectors 17 and 18. We're not really equipped to fight a whole school, but we might be able to find some stragglers around the outside" Since she had her back to the door, Saoirse didn't notice Rómulo walk out next to them with his broomstick.
[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox="Outskirts;Stables>> Government Stables, #50EBEC, dotted, 15, Courier"]
code #50ebec​
Tristan followed along behind the Armyman, the beam of his flashlight bouncing wilding across the ground as he walked, being very little help at all for anyone. "Ceddie, Max is safer farther away. We live too close outside," whispered Tristan. He was quite certain that Cédric was feeling angry, and understandably so---they were gambling for the life of his horse, after all.. "Trust me, I will not let Maxwell get hurt." Tristan would say to trust the man in the army, but even Tristan had a hard time trusting strangers who ran around in boxers in the dead of night.

As the man began to speak again, Tristan turned his attention back to him. Sieman, eh? What a totally intimidating name for a soldier. A perfectly fitting name for the redhead, in Tristan's opinion. "Tristan," was all he'd said in reply, in a voice that was perhaps slightly too loud and a bit too cheerful for the current setting. He'd turned right back to Cédric afterwards. "Government stables, Cedge, Maxwell can be safe there," he said, smiling a smile that could probably not be seen at all.

It took about about 10 minutes to get to the stables, which was about enough time Tristan to hum a repeating tune at least 20 times before they made it to the locked doors. Now, either the government was terrible at securing their animals, or Sieman was incredibly prepared despite forgetting his pants. Tristan hoped that Cédric wouldn't think it was the former. Whatever was the case, the doors were soon open, and Tristan wasted no time in going in and setting down the large horse blanket that he'd had to carry. His clothes were probably gonna smell like a horse for days. What a tragedy. "It's a nice place, don't you think, Cedge? Max will be happy here. We can come get her when it's safer," Tristan told his roommate, hoping that just a nice smile and assurance would be enough to put the older male's mind at ease.

With his left hand now free, Tristan moved his flashlight back. After all, if they were going to go looking for people, it wouldn't do for his flashlight to get in the way of his crowbar. "Where are we going, Sieman?" asked Tristan, just as the ginger's phone went off. So it was off to find the girls then, he supposed. Hopefully he would not end up being ripped apart by zombies, but if that did happen, then that was alright too. He did want to live to see 23, though.

"Come on then, let's go!" Tristan said, walking back out the door. Not too smart of an idea, because he had no idea where to go from the stables. Hell, he had no idea that the government had stables. It was high time he started to get to know his surrounding better, but perhaps it was better to do that during the day, when there weren't any zombies around.
[/fieldbox]​
 
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[BCOLOR=#808080]Somewhere outside of the Luxembourg Zone[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]"We're sitting ducks you know? Shaking our juicy-tender thighs with invitation at the dead of night. Did I mention we're parked on a corner?" [/BCOLOR]Preston Wiles drawled out brushing back his wavy white-grey locks. His hair had gotten longer since the time he'd escaped Leven and he hadn't bothered to cut it. Faced with a silent response, he turned to look at his companion who was clearly pretending to sleep. How did he know? He didn't, but it didn't matter because Preston was bored and enough on edge to not be able to fall asleep.[BCOLOR=#000000] "Oh! Nico dear, you've got a customer. Not to worry, the gentleman seems to know a thing or two about cleanliness. No diseases for you tonight. Though, I do worry about those misplaced fangs... that's why I have a no kissing policy but yo-"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#999999]"Go to sleep,"[/BCOLOR] ordered Nicolas Rio. He was a long black figure laying on the drivers seat. He was all dressed in black, the hoodie of his jacket covering most of his face.

Preston shifted in his seat, his leather jacket making that familiar leather noise and clicking metal combination,[BCOLOR=#000000] "but the gentleman is as big as this car, and that neck would take more than two swings to chop off. I'd be dead before managing that and let's be honest, you're not of much help with a blunt weapon."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#999999]"So little faith."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]"Don't question my faith please, I wouldn't be in this mutation hive of an area if you weren't leading me into it. I'm just saying, the customer's dragging? itself straight towards us."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#999999]"Not possible."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]"I know, I know. You built this thing so it hides our juicy-tender thighs from the wolfs of the world but if I were you I'd hold on to something cause the customer wants it bad."[/BCOLOR]

The car violently shook as the "gentleman" dropped its weight on the hood of the car, leaning over as if to hug the front windshield. The metal creaked all around them and red alert lights turned on in all three monitors. Damage was critical. With a sigh, Nicolas pushed back his hood to observe the reports on the monitor. His hair was cut short as usual, nothing much had changed about him since Leven except perhaps his slightly more disheveled clothes. Preston checked his strapped weapons and made a face at the rotting flesh pressed against the front window.

[BCOLOR=#808080]"Mmm. I'm going to need a sample of its skin." [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]"Of course,"[/BCOLOR] Preston pulled out his knife and held on to his small axe with the other, [BCOLOR=#000000]"when do you not?" [/BCOLOR]

With a flurry of his dexterous fingers, Nicolas activated his backup program and the car began to warm. [BCOLOR=#808080]"See you back in the van."[/BCOLOR] the car opened from the back and both of them walked out, closing the door behind them. From the outside, Preston could see the inside of the car filling up with a sort of mist and suddenly the "gentleman" seemed more eager to embrace the car. Preston waited to attack, slowly walking around the thing till he was standing behind its back. Thankfully the commotion didn't seem to attract any other attention. He heard the windshield crack and as the mist escaped, the zombie beast dove in eagerly. That's when Preston swung and sliced. The creature too drunk on whatever it was sniffing to notice... surprisingly. It was fortunate, because Preston had miscalculated the thickness of its skin and he'd had to slice a second time. With the sample in the plastic bag, Preston made his way back to the van, leaving the "customer" to its passionate embrace.
 
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Government Stable
"Ceddie, Max is safer farther away. We live too close outside," Silence and fury. No response was able to come from the man's mouth in reply. Not out of what Tristan said, but a concoction of pride and over-protectiveness. Cédric wasn't thinking of what would make sense. After all, he was feeling more than he was able to think. Tristan was right. But was he just going to accept that? No. Absolutely not. He thought he knew best, rather his heart thought he knew best. It was his horse, not this other guy's. What did he know? Just walk up to him and his two companions like he was some kind of-"Trust me, I will not let Maxwell get hurt." ...

He looked down to Tristan, slightly eased by the words he could make out. His heart felt strongly for people who took into consideration of his mare. It held great meaning to him personally. While he was still rather upset, it was nice to have someone showing their care. Despite this change he continued to be defensive towards Siemen. Even after his introduction, only silence came from the farm boy. Being too frustrated with him to respond with identification.

"I'm taking you guys to the government stables where we keep the farm animals. I'm not really supposed to do this so if someone finds out, it wasn't me." At this, Cédric immediately eased up on the man. Willing to risk his neck for his Maxi? Now that was admirable. Given the obsession he had with protecting his family, Siemen gained some real brownie points. A slight smile appeared on his face, his body relaxing along with it. Then Cédric turned towards Tristan and nodded with a look of relief after he voiced his comment. No longer was the seemingly easily changed man reserved and guarded towards the suspicious government slave. A tilt of his head, in addition to the mention of his first name, was the reply given as he lead Maxwell onward with the now team of four.

On the way there, Tristan managed to get his little tune stuck in Cédric's head. It would be a while until he got that out of his mind. Luckily it made the situation seem very much so less scary than it actually was. Going through the streets where zombies may lie while doing an 'escort mission' never seemed so enjoyable.

"See? Your horse will be safe in here. Now hurry up and get in there so we can go look for Dallis and Saoirse." He sighed as the doors opened. The attitude wasn't much appreciated, doing him a favor or not. Perhaps he may have not gotten rid of all of his bias. A part of him was still looking for reasons to not trust Siemen. As per usual, Tristan made his attitude change. "It's a nice place, don't you think, Cedge? Max will be happy here. We can come get her when it's safer."

"It is good enough, for the moment." After placing Max into a stable, he stroked her head gently. Leaning his face against his horses, he quietly reassured her. This was a moment taken for himself. To calm her, as well as himself. He'd be back, there was faith in himself. If that changed though, if one of them died, at least Cédric's last family member was appreciated one last time. "We will come get her when it's safer," the words of Tristan, repeated for assurance. After the exchange between the others, they headed out. The white haired man silently still judging the situation, in addition to the complex. On the way, a quick question came up. Whispering to Tristan as best as he could in English, he asked the following:"Is not Dallis in United States of America? Why?"

Shirt Status: On

​
 
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[fieldbox=Location: CREEPING ON MIHAIL'S HOUSE, orange, solid]
As easy as expected.

Foot lazily nudging against the corpse of a zombie, the redheaded woman almost missed the phone wiggling in her face. Dallis ducked her head a bit, scanning the screen before giving a nod. Though killing a parent would be all kinds of awesome, the two women obviously lacked the necessary firepower. They could settle for chasing down some dobbers. "Ye think Semen's tryin' tah find us?" She let out a snicker; the answer was clear, but she'd never pass up on an opportunity to poke fun at the male.

Placing her hands on her hips, she turned up her nose and puffed out her chest. Unfortunately for the more cautious residents of Luxembourg, the woman didn't plan on quieting herself. "Where are you two going? Didn't ye hear the supervisor!" Dallis started out imitating his accent, but eventually gave up, instead rubbing her nose with a smirk. As she bobbed back and forth on her feet, fiddling with her weapon, she backed into a figure, letting out a small shriek on impact. Her instincts told her another brain eater had shown up, but she soon realized that wasn't the case. Speaking of uptight fellas..."Oh, hey Róró!" She sung, turning on her heels and bouncing on her toes to ruffle the male's hair.

What a happy reunion![/fieldbox]
 
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✖ Death Round 2: Results
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Alive Squad 4 NPCs:
Sergeant Clark, Private Shultz, Private Byron Kimball​

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As the parent went on a frenzy, the school closed in around them. Pushing any living being towards the area of danger. Squad 4 fell into a circular formation, protecting all fronts. Behind Private Rene stood Remy, barely able to stand from the terror that paralyzed him. In the distance they heard a whimper and Remy suddenly remembered the dog he'd seen before. The cute doggy that had faithfully remained with its master...

Sergeant Clark barked out orders and the squad began to move, Private Rene closely guiding the poor boy in her care. It was then that the parent turned from its feast and had it not been for the first mecha unit to arrive, the whole squad might have been dismembered. One putrid and bloody fanged limb did swing onto them as Vera intersected the core body but it was too little too late. Remy watched the head of the Private rotate in the air as her blood splattered all over his face. In that split second he thought he'd never forget those surprised eyes that seemed to look at him and yet look at nothing at all. Private Shultz pulled him back screaming something in German, but as Remy was jerked back blood flowed like a river from his belly. He'd been hit too. His consciousness fleeting, Remy's memory was that of Private Shultz telling him everything was going to be alright. Remy wanted to apologize and say he couldn't understand Private Shultz' accent very well, but all he managed was a smile before his consciousness fled.

Vera struggled with the mecha unit. She needed backup and the remaining 3 members of Squad 4 weren't going to be enough. Besides, at the moment the Squad was having enough trouble regrouping whilst fighting off the school of zombies bent on pushing them into the giants fight. The parent was much too tough for a single unit, and Vera was easily being pushed back. Only her experienced maneuvers kept her going, dexterously guiding the parent near the edges of its school circle and causing the parent itself to kill off some of its small kin.

The howls of it's zombie children seemed to agitate the parent. It bellowed a frightful screech and launched at Vera with a vengeful fury. The mecha unit was punched straight through a couple of walls without whose support caused the house to half crumble. As the parent's attack continued, the house was reduced down to ruble. Under the ruble lay Vera knocked out and bleeding inside the bent and useless mecha. Under that, lay Elizabeth Rose Harver, valued doctor and citizen who had dutifully remained indoors and had followed all protocols of safety. The basement had caved in with the weight of it all... the people of Lux would later be terrified to learn that no place was really safe. Not in this new world.

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Vitali and Mihail were still in the house when Rómulo limped away with nothing to arm himself but with a broomstick. The situation elicited form the cop a resigned sigh as he glanced over at the pajama boy and gave him a shrug before following the limping lunatic. Of all people to be stuck babysitting Vitali would have hoped for the female version of this Rómulo guy. Now that would be a beauty, he pondered as he readied his weapon and stepped out of the house. It was then that the howling began... and it was coming from above. Vitali shoved the shocked Rómulo onto the wall as he'd just begun to exclaim something angrily at someone. Kids. Weapon pointed towards the heavens, the cop nudges at the half-korean to keep moving, "kid! you were the one that caused the gunshot noise? Keep your weapon ready. There's another person inside the house...!"

Still formulating a plan in his head, Vitali cursed under his breath and cursed louder when Rómulo bolted. Or attempted to, managing to move surprisingly fast despite his limp. Smart boy, the attention was on the noise from this buil- Vitali stopped and turned to face the redheads who'd been talking to Rómulo, "if you're going to shoot the little zombie shits do it near this building then make a run for it. That's a lot of howls I hear... I'll keep their attention here!" With that, he ran back into the house in search of pajama boy.

Dallis did as she was told, keeping her eyes towards the roof she soon spotted one of the critters and took aim. "Right in the noggin!" she cheered as the zombie thing toppled over and she heard the sound of it falling from three stories high finally crashing to the ground! Though the sound it made had been more muffled than she'd expected. With that, she bolted away as well.

Unbeknownst to Dallis, the zombie she'd taken down had fallen butt first onto Mihail's head. Vitali had urged him to escape as well and Mihail had tried. There couldn't have been worst timing. However, determined to save as many as he could, Vitali dragged the unconscious body of Mihail into a big metal dumpster and hoped for the best. After that, the cop made as much ruckus as he could manage, successfully leading the little beasts away from the living at the cost of his death.


Deaths This Round:
Diesel (Harriet's dog)
Elizabeth Rose Harver
Remy Schneider
Vitali Petrov
Private Rene - NPC

Critically Wounded:
Vera Fairchild
Mihail "Indigo" Pavelovich

In danger to die in the next round:
Nadia Fairchild & Gemini Linnaea Maas @Wingless_Angel
Wiebe Koen Damme @l0ck0n
 
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[fieldbox= Outside Mihail's house | Sector 16, limegreen, solid, 10"]"Rómulo! What are you doing here?" Luckily for Rómulo, Saoirse hadn't quite picked up on Dallis' nickname habit, so he didn't have to hear it more than once. The three's reunion was cut short with the arrival of Vitali and a zombie. At Vitali's words, the three of them bolted out of the area towards Sector 17, and Dallis took out the zombie following them. Saoirse wanted to help Rómulo since it looked like one of his legs was injured, but well...she wasn't exactly tall enough to support. No matter, he moved fast enough even with a limp. "Haha this is awesome, just like the old days. Dallis and I are headed over to the Sector 16/17/border to see if we can shoot up any zombies. Guess you're coming with us." Saoirse called out to him cheerily. It didn't really register in her head that Rómulo might actually want to move away from the school and not towards it. Unfortunately for him, it was too late.

By the time they got to Sector 16, both Saoirse and Dallis had run out of ammo in one of their guns. As it would be annoying to carry them with them, they had tossed them somewhere on the side of the road. Saoirse had plenty more hidden around the trainee academy. With one gun left, they each only had 10 bullets. Despite this fact, the two of them didn't seem worried at all. They wouldn't get too close, and they could always pick up a brick or something off the ground if they needed it. "Alright let's go kick some zombie butt!

"Oh no you don't!"
[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox= Sector 16, goldenrod, dashed, 10"]Siemen had just arrived in Sector 16 from the stables to find Saoirse and Dallis about to charge headfirst into the danger zone. "The only place you're going is the trainee bunkers, and when y-"

Siemen was cut off by Dallis and Saoire's outburst of laughter. "Oh my god Semen! What the hell are you wearing?" Saoirse was laughing so hard that she couldn't think of the German words she needed to respond to him, and her sentence came out as a mix between English and German, with laughter in between. Although Siemen was fluent in both languages, you didn't need to be to know that she was talking about his clothes, and he could feel his face turning a bright red. Unfortunately, at this time the sun had started to come up and everyone could see his blushing face.

"MY NAME IS SIEMEN! And this is all because of you two! The Sergeant kicked me out to find you guys and I didn't even get a chance to change!" After several minutes, Saoirse's laughter finally subsided and she finally noticed that he had brought Tristan with him, and ran up to give him a hug. "Tristan! Haha look at that! We're all together again!" She turned to Cedric, "Hi I'm Saoirse!" She said this in English, as she knew how bad Tristan's German was (when they first arrived she had attempted to teach him a little) and had assumed that there was no way he would ever befriend someone who couldn't speak English.

Saorise turned again to Siemen, "Siemen why'd you bring two civilians with you. It's dangerous out here ya know. If they die you'll be punished." Siemen had figured this out while bringing Cedric's horse to the stables but well...he need the help and Tristan knew the two of them.

"I wasn't going to put them in any danger. They were just helping me find you guys." he told her "Since we found them you guys can go back. Better pick up your horse on the way, the armed forces are coming in so the area will be cleaned up soon. I left the barn unlocked, just lock it on your way out. Saoirse, Dallis, you've had enough fun for one night. Let's go back."
[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox="Goverment Stables>> Sector 16, #50EBEC, dotted, 15, Courier"]
code #50ebec​
"Is not Dallis in United States of America? Why?" Hearing the sudden question, Tristan let out a short laugh that immediately turned into an awkward cough. Right, of course, Cédric didn't know who Dallis was. It'd be rude to laugh about that, even if it wasn't like Tristan was laughing at him.

"Dallas is a city, but we're finding a girl named Dallis," Tristan told him. which seemed like a sufficient explanation. Straight to the point, no confusion, right?

As he continued to walk, he swung his crowbar at his side, moving his flashlight quickly in a way that was surely made it completely useless for its purpose. Not that there was much point in it anymore, as Tristan could quite easily see without it. "The ants go marching one by one hurrah, hurrah," he sang cheerily to himself, possibly too loud for the current setting, as they walked. He was in the middle of the eighth verse when he heard Sieman yell out.

Well, Semen was a word Tristan had expected to hear today. Yet, he thought as he appraised the blushing boy, surprisingly fitting. Unfortunate though, really. That kid probably wouldn't be made fun of nearly so easily if he didn't react so strongly to it. Laugh it off, allllways laugh it off. You can pour disgusting things on their beds and clothes and slip laxatives in their food at a later time. Tristan was a nice guy though, he didn't laugh at people's embarrassment. He just smiled.

At that point, Saoirse had finally noticed Tristan standing there. "Saoirse, hi!" he greeted her, hugging her back quickly. To Rómulo and Dallis, he waved his crowbar arm in an overexcited fashion, just guaranteed to one day take out the eye of a less careful person. "Dallis is that one," Tristan said to Cédric, gesturing in the direction of the Scottish girl. See, she wasn't a city.

Unfortunate that the trip had ended so quickly. Tristan never got to do anything fun! Of course, he'd been very sulky about waking up for no reason when the announcement had come on, but now he really wasn't so tired at all. Having to go back would be boring. Besides, Gaston probably assumed they died and just went back to bed by now.

"Well, c'mon, if I die you could just tell your superiors that I was blind, deaf, and, dumb and didn't see the zombies in front of me. No need for punishment," waving off the idea with the hand which held his(now turned off) flashlight. Really though, Tristan was totally interested in how long dumb luck kept him from dying a terrible death, you know? Clearly it Fortuna blessed him, because Tristan was great with totally unreliable weapon choices.

Not as bad as Rómulo though, of course. "Heyyy, Rómulo, fancy weapon you've got there. How many zombies d'ya think you could hold off with a broom?" Well, maybe Rómulo had practiced in the art of broomstick-wielding. As for Tristan, he could barely hit one thing without the vibrations from his crowbar totally killing his arm.

"But man, it seems almost like a waste to go all the way home now," said Tristan, not really to anyone, but with a smile to show that he wasn't entirely serious and no one should physically make him go back please. Staying was an unreasonable wish and he knew it. But hey, Tristan was super excited this morning! It wasn't every day you got to see such a beautiful face so early in the day. Rómulo was way too good looking, really, it wasn't fair. How many souls did he have to sacrifice for that?

Now, Tristan was super into the idea of letting the Armed Forces take care of everything so he could live out the rest of his life until he died of some immensely idiotic thing that no one knew you could die from, but talk about an adventure being cut short. Sieman hadn't actually needed Tristan's help to find Saoirse and Dallis either, so it was a rather boring trip. Though Tristan was very careful to speak in English. No need for Cédric to hate him, Tristan had only gotten him to like him again less than an hour ago. But Tristan, for one, was an idiot who had only slept for three hours earlier. It was a dangerous combination.

Of course, if Cédric started to leave than so would Tristan. No need to just abandon Cédric when he was the entire reason Tristan left the house in the first place.
[/fieldbox]​
 
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Sector 16
Cédric was perplexed by the answer Tristan gave as they walked. "Dallas is a city, but we're finding a girl named Dallis." Why was the girl named after a place? Is she big like a city? Was she famous? Famous people always had weird names, when born from a famous person. Was that the case? What a funny name, although he heard Texans were nice. They farmed, and had um... what was it? Some form of modesty. He couldn't quite remember. So Dallis must be a nice person. He looked forward to meeting her. Perhaps she would like Maxwell? They could relate together. While deep in questioning, looking too forward to talking to someone he thought would grew up in similar ways, he swayed his head back in forth to the rhythm of Tristan's nice song.

Upon arrival to the destination, Cédric saw Salmon (that was his name, yes?) confront a group. Ah, they must be in some kind of trouble for a military to come up to them. Maybe they could help them? When he picked up on some of the chatter though, it almost clicked. It still took a few minutes, or rather for Saoirse and Tristan to confirm. Saoirse had what he first thought, attacked Tristan. However the attack turned out to be a hug. Which made him smile slightly, what a warm small person. Saoirse then spoke directly to the fellow in English."Hi I'm Saoirse!" Oh. Come on, Cédric, lets break this down. Hi, a greeting. Saoirse is the name of the person, the "I'm" is confusing though. Why do they add that?

Oh right, they were here for them. "Hello, Cédric. Nice to meet you." English was always too iffy for him. Sometimes he was 'good enough', sometime he'd remember just about nothing. Despite the confusion, he did offer her a kind smile. It was a friend of Tristan, they must be nice. Anyone who hugs is nice. Speaking of nice, Tristan introduced Dallis from afar. He waved to her in excitement, as he'd looked forward to meeting her. "Hello, Dallis!"

After that, Cédric zoned out. Not intentionally, but everything became babble as they spoke to each other. He wasn't really there, but did continue to offer a warm smile. While he was hospitable, wanting to further meet these new strangers, his mom taught him it was rude to interrupt. Something he could remember, given it'd been learned so early. "Since we found them you guys can go back. Better pick up your horse on the way, the armed forces are coming in so the area will be cleaned up soon. I left the barn unlocked, just lock it on your way out. Besides, despite Salmon saying this, Tristan looked like he wanted to stay. And so, he didn't respond. Maxwell was safe, not that he wanted to leave her there. He felt a debt to Tristan, given he didn't want to leave the house. So then this should make up for it.

Feeling a wet spot on his shirt, which may or may not have come from him drooling out of not paying attention, Cédric was embarrassed. He couldn't just meet these people with a spot on his shirt. What if he got a hug too? And it smelled like sweat. Not that it'd outdo Salmon's aesthetic, but first impressions should be good ones.


Shirt Status: Off
​
"Much better."
​
 
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✖ Death Round 3: End of CH1
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Alive Squad 4 NPCs:
Private Byron Kimball
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When the mecha unit arrived only 2 Squad4 members were alive, one of them in mortal peril and possible infection. Still, it took the mecha unit damn near an hour to kill the parent. One screech of pain sent the school into a frenzy. There were many casualties as a result despite the fact they were not at the epicenter of the battle. Somewhere in the ruble, the first mecha pilot slept unconscious of the loss of her little sister... or the neighbors that did their best to save her. At the bottom of a city trash bin lay another unconscious body, a talented chef waiting to be found though no one alive knew where to find him.

The parent's death however proved Squad 4's premonitions as a second parent went wild in sector 18. The mecha units rushed in to stop it but it severely damaged 4 out of 9 before it went down. The frenzied school was more than the military could handle since their howls and screeches drew attention to that side of the zone, causing defenses at the wall to struggle. The sectors affected as well as surrounding sectors were quarantined off from the main zone and every able citizen was called to action. The casualties rose by the minutes and it wasn't until evening of that day that the zone was finally cleared of all zombies.

The area remains quarantined and will continue to be for the following week in case of unreported infection. Sections 16-20 are currently under observation and heavy military patrol. However, the commotion has kept most of the military busy at the zone edge leaving the cleanup to the citizens of said sections.

Temporary refugees have been put in place for those who've lost their homes.

End of CH1
​

Deaths This Round:
Sargent Clark NPC
Nadia Fairchild & Gemini Linnaea Maas
Wiebe Koen Damme

Critically Wounded:
Private Shultz NPC
Vera Fairchild
Mihail "Indigo" Pavelovich

In danger to die in the next round:
None
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✖ CHAPTER 2: Dance Eternal
onemayfairredbull.jpg
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The light of day is fading. It's been nearly a week and the cleanup process is ongoing. The predicted week-long quarantine has been extended and the citizens are tired. Everyday they face the aftermath and devastation parent and school zombies can and have caused in an area they once thought safe. Now they work to erase that event to no avail. The days are routine survival... working ants of the hive. But night... night has come to belong to Dance Eternal, a nightclub of sector 17, and business is booming. Everything and anything is available, and if it isn't, someone can get it for you.
 
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Dance Eternal; Sector 17
Heat. That's what Naoto felt as he stepped into the premises of the bumping nightclub. The origin being the cocktail of moisture and friction from the bodies frolicking on the floor, gasping as they exhausted themselves. CO2 burning heavily in clusters of dancers. Ah, Dance Eternal, Sector 17. They sure knew how to cash in on fear. Adrenaline was rushing from the previous week, then igniting a longing for more adventure. In this case, beverages that hinder senses, in collaboration with rubbing against one another like a false mating ritual. He had to admit though, he admired their being loose. To just forget their worries so easily, celebrating staying alive by killing themselves slowly a different way. Although he imagined many of them were dead inside, waiting to find an excuse for another way out. Either too fearful of being torn apart by zombies, or needing a reason to tell their families it wasn't completely suicide. How many of these people were dragged along by friends?

Naoto shook his head slightly, all the gloom lately, perhaps his theories were best saved for a better time. Not when the thought of zombies and the mourning of loved ones still hung over the public's head in the daytime. Maybe it was a bit insensitive to let the ideas linger.

Right, anyways, he was here on a mission. Maybe not one assigned to him, but he did feel a sense of duty. After all, he was technically certified for the police. There was just no official police force yet. But he had his mother to back him up. Technically, it was a moral obligation to make sure everyone isn't going overboard here. Inside Dance Eternal, or in the dark alleyways where creepers lurk.

Honestly a glass of water sounded just peachy right now. The regular getup of a trench coat and this hat didn't exactly invite cool air. Surely Naoto would have found himself suspicious character, if he was not who he was. For a moment he contemplated taking them off. However that would mean a chance of theft. Not that it wouldn't mean an easy arrest. In fact, maybe if he made himself a target that would prevent others from then becoming a target? And so, he ordered a bottle of water at the busy bar then took a seat at one of the fancy couches. Trying not to imagine how much sweat, along with other substances (spit), had made its way onto the furniture. His trusty coat placed by his side as he chugged his drink. In the process, he wound up watching a few people. There were two men in the group he watched out of baseless intuition. One being constantly being eased from lifting a shirt up from his friend. Hardly hearing the white haired tell the other how hot it was, and that he had a long day with repairs. To just give him this one chance since it was like a sauna in here.

#424676 - Naoto, #3767cc - Cedric

 
[fieldbox="Dance Eternal, darkviolet, solid, 10, Book Antiqua"]Ronan sat at the bar, her head resting in one of her hands, while her other sketched away in a small sketchbook. An almost untouched drink sat next to her. She had recently been assigned to work on a project with a small group and had come to the club after the group members had forced (more like kidnapped) her to join them on their outing. She would much rather be home, wrapped in a blanket with a hot cup of tea. As much as she wanted to leave, she didn't own a car and lived too far away to walk, and so she was stuck here, people watching and doodling strangers in her sketchbook (which she luckily took with her everywhere).. Well, at least she was able to draw with live models for once. It had been a long time since she drawn with real people as reference.

Her attention had at been fixed on someone who kept trying to take his shirt off (she was really curious as to whether he'd be successful or not by the end of the night), when Naoto entered the club, and immediately caught her attention because of his strange attire. Although it was still a little chilly outside, it wasn't often you saw people walking around in large trench coats. A trench coat huh? It's been a while since she'd drawn one of those, and soon she was doodling him and various trench coat designs in her sketchbook, occasionally looking up to glance at her new model.
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[fieldbox="Sector 17> Dance Eternal, #E5E4E2, solid, 0, Arial"]
Mika: #AA686D
Stu: #488AC7​

T
he music pounded, the beat of the current song dictating the beat of their hearts. The heat of the many bodies moving together in the tight space was hardly comfortable. Undoubtedly, it would have been much worse, had they actually been near others. The two boys, however, were comfortably detached from the rest of those at the club that night, finding their own little nook to stay away from others. They stood in silence---it was difficult to hear each other anyway. While Stuart stood with an air of relative apathy, his hands in the pockets of his black jeans, Mika was quite the opposite. The German boy looked around in childlike wonderment at the crowds of people, as he had been every day they've gone. He didn't even mind that it was much too hot for the large hoodie he wore---he could deal with heat.

And it was like that they stayed, because really, the main reason they came here was because Mika wanted beer, and there was none at home. There was little reason to do anything else. Stuart would just as happily had stayed at home.

Stuart leaned his head back against the wall, watching the masses of people uninterestedly. He'd never understood the appeal of gatherings such as this. What's fun about being in a dark building with annoying music, being touched by strangers and making a fool of yourself? He supposed it might become more interesting if you'd been drinking. But he didn't make it a habit of his to make himself enjoy something by altering his mind.

He glanced over at the one who'd pulled him along. The lights that flashed on the crowds reflected in Mika's eyes. He held a beer, that was left completely full as he continued to wear the mask that covered his mouth. He would think that anyone else would have considered that before getting a drink, but Stuart didn't tend to expect much thinking on the younger boy's part.

It only took a few moments before Mika noticed Stuart's eyes on him, and he leaned in towards his friend to speak. "I like it," he told Stuart earnestly, his voice, which was generally quite low, still barely heard when he was a hairsbreadth away from his friend. He was, of course, referring to the nightclub. It was a lively place, and Mika was brimming with an energy he had no idea what to do with. No way to deal with, as he didn't move from his place beside Stuart. His free hand tugged on the drawstrings of his hoodie, a distracted movement that he often did.

Stuart felt no such thing. Looking back at the writhing masses, moving off beat and in a way no one could possibly call dancing, he'd only shrugged. He did not share, nor bother to understand those sentiments. There was nothing interesting about this place, or the city in general, and he'd be in neither if not for Mika. Stuart found that he bent to the other boy's will much too often (Mika did not think the same with his friend).

"If you won't drink the beer, then maybe we should leave soon," he told Mika, his voice having a rather bored drawl to it. Mika shook his head quickly (He looked a bit like a dog shaking water off his head, decided Stuart) and pulled the sick mask down to his chin, revealing his entire face for once in order to bring the drink he had to his lips.​
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Dance Eternal

Rómulo's first night out. He'd needed all his nights to recuperate from the day's work as well as his injuries. However, even those nights hadn't been so pleasant. The refugee place he was appointed to wasn't the cleanest or the quietest or anything remotely close to pleasing him. He'd hardly slept and he felt like a rag doll that's been tumbling in a trash truck. Even the brief reunion with the Leven people had been a terrible endeavor. To think he'd actually wished for it at some point. He'd forgotten how reckless the redheads were... and how useless Tristan was.

Whatever.

He was here, it was loud, and already several pairs of eyes were giving him the come hither. He was going to go home with one lucky person tonight, because he was damn determined to sleep on a proper clean bed in a room without a speck of dust if it killed him. Problem now was figuring out who was clean enough to be worth the night's sweaty toil.

"Well look at you... can I buy you a drink?" half-whispered half-screamed a voice behind him as he was attempting to cross the dancefloor. Rómulo turned to see a lovely blonde lady, dressed in tight red, and well filled in all the right places. She knew it too, because she looked at him like someone who always gets what she wants and confident she already had him.

"You can," he replied with a weary smile and followed her towards the bar. While she ordered he caught sight of what looked like old chewing gum clumped hair near the back of her neck. Yeah, she wasn't going to be the lucky one.

Rómulo took the drink and pretended to be distracted by someone he knew, he walked over excitedly saying something about long time no see as he attempted to lose the girl in the crowd. Didn't work, and now he needed to talk to somebody for real.

"I didn't expect you to still be alive. Glad to see you are..."

Note: anyone can jump in
 
[BCOLOR=#808080]Entrance to the Luxembourg Zone[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]"We're seeking refuge. I'm Preston Wiles and the guy in the van is Nicolas Rio. We've been traveling for a while and I'd welcome some variety in company. Nico's uh, a nice guy... but he doesn't get my jokes." [/BCOLOR]Preston's hands were in the air, speaking while someone searched him and someone else pointed a weapon at him.

"Maybe you're just not funny. The van stays out here. Your friend approaches without a weapon, gets searched, and then you two strip past that door for inspection. If you're not infected you go into the quarantined section" routine speech it sounded like. Preston nodded and waved Nicolas over.

[BCOLOR=#000000]"We're getting butt naked and inspected. Then quarantined. I think I can live with your inability to laugh."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#999999]"I want equipment. Strip."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#000000]"Is that an order? Kinky."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=#999999]"I'd like a joke-free zone. Could that be arranged?"[/BCOLOR]

"Easy," said the soldier whilst he raised his weapon and braced it in Preston's direction.

[BCOLOR=#000000]"Funny...."[/BCOLOR] Preston pulled off his jacket and walked past the door.
 

Dance Eternal; Sector 17
Naotowatched the crowds, first feeling filled with determination. This faded slightly, as nothing in particular seemed to really be going on other than innocent-er... As innocent legally speaking, action. IDs were checked, nobody had been harassed, as far as he could see that was. Eventually he decided to get up and walk around. Placing his water bottle in his pocket, he headed over towards the restrooms. Only listening outside for any indication of someone in need of serious help. He never went into public bathrooms unless absolutely necessary. Aside from when there were extra bathrooms in place for people like him, it'd best be safe not to. It's a bit troublesome to go into one or the other.

On the way over, he spotted two suspiciously dressed figures. Who wears something so hot in a place like this? Masks and hoodies, really now. Given the past, he should've known right away. The flashing lights of the club however covered up most indications, along with the constant shaking from passerby as they nudged into the three. You'd think someone would have whip lash by now. Naoto placed both of his arms onto the shoulders of the men, "Excuse me, sirs-"

By the time they turned around, he was able to make out their faces. Albeit still cloaked in shadows, as well as flashes, even still. "Oh, Mika, Stu. What brings you here?" Now that Naoto's guard was down, he finally realized what he should have much earlier. He was being watched. Or at least, got that feeling. With narrowed eyes the room was scanned. As much as it could be, of course. It was rather difficult to spot where someone's eyes were looking towards. He made eye contact with a few people, but they immediately turned away. Or even weren't looking at him in the first place after all.

Peeking his head around the two teenagers he'd met up with, he tried to get a better view. There's those guys again, the white haired one looking rather depressed. There was the group they came with, or he'd assumed. They all stuck close together, after all. Women, men, what's with some of the hair color on these people? Not that someone with such a unique color themselves had any room to ponder. It was weird to see so many with reddish hair.

Ah, where was he? Right-oh. There was a girl looking at him. With some paper and whatnot? He kept staring, partly out of confusion, but also trying to see if that was the culprit.

#424676 - Naoto, #3767cc - Cedric

 
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[fieldbox=Location: DANCE ETERNAL, orange, solid]
"How long till Semen follows us?" Dallis questioned, hands in her front pockets while she strolled towards their destination. While the girls' supervisor spent time preparing yet another lecture, the woman suggested that they bolt. Surely, another string of curses would be sent their way when they got caught, but the pair of redheads agreed some fun was worth it. The conditions in Sector 17 were far from pleasant, but if things went as planned they wouldn't be spending much more time on the streets. Stepping over a mound of garbage and what may have been a cat's decaying body (ew), Dallis worked her way in and through an alleyway, occasionally glancing down to make sure Saoirse wasn't trailing too far behind. Luckily for them, Dance Eternal wasn't hard to spot; with the self-proclaimed tough guys surrounding the door, and all.

Brushing past the wannabe thugs, Dallis pushed the doors open and stuck out her foot to keep them that way until her companion entered. Immediately she was greeted by the scent of sweat and...well, the mysterious ingredient smelled like shit, but she hoped that wasn't the case. "Just like home," she joked, attempting to push her way through the crowd and towards one of the few bars. Saoirse could do whatever she pleased, whether that included getting a drink of her own or starting a little brawl. Dallis wasn't her mother and didn't intend to act like one. Some ragged stranger slid off his stool, almost as if he knew she'd need it, and with the goal of getting absolutely shitfaced, the redhead slammed her hand on the counter in an attempt to gain the bartenders attention. Beer, as simple as it may be, remained a personal favorite that hit close to home. But before she could down the glass given to her, a familiar voice piqued her interest.

Rómulo? Huh, never thought he'd show up at a place like this. Let alone initiate a conversation with her. It didn't take long to notice the blonde, however, and soon Dallis broke into a grin, understanding the male's predicament. "Róró! Great tah see ye, jo!" She sat her drink back down with a thud, before hopping to her feet and taking the male's face in her hands. This would be fun. Doing what she'd seen enthusiastic girlfriends do in the past, she peppered his face with sloppy kisses. Maybe he only needed a distraction, but Dallis had a flair for the dramatic. And if the blonde didn't get the hint after that; well, there was no helping him.

And then she ran her studded tongue along his cheek, backing up with the most innocent expression she could muster.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Dance Eternal, darkviolet, solid, 10, Book Antiqua"]It took a moment for Ronan to realize that the person she had been drawing was now staring back at her. Well that's awkward. She looked away and took a sip of her drink, and flipped through her sketchbook. What a pretty boy, she thought to herself, and started doodling random swirl designs in her notbook while blowing bubbles in her drink. Hopefully he hadn't noticed that she had been staring at him and thought they their eyes just happened to meet for a moment.

It was at that moment she noticed Dallis walk in and promptly walk over to Rómulo and plant his face with kisses. She couldn't hear them from where she was, and she hadn't seen him being harassed by the busty blonde earlier, so seeing them together like that...well it was shocking to say the least. She had been planning to go join them but then decided it was probably better to leave them be.[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="Dance Eternal, limegreen, solid, 10"]Saoirse was more than thrilled to follow the Dallis' suggestion of skipping the late night lecture to go to the new club. She would do anything to avoid one of those. Luckily, the security guards didn't seem too strict about IDing her, as Saoirse wasn't actually old enough to go to this kind of establishment. They quickly spotted Rómulo in a...predicament, and Dallis made her way over to save him. Saoirse could barely hold back her laughter as Dallis smother him kisses.

"Watch out Dallis, he's gonna blow!"It was the first time she had seen someone's color turn so red. Róró was not happy. [/fieldbox]
 
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