Domen & Lowlife Adventurer- War Against Damian

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DOMEN

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Franklin Minty wasn't surprised when he wasn't one of the people warped away by deities that he never believed in on Judgement day. He was awful, and he knew he was awful. He wasn't one of those 'non-believer but nice' guys, he was truly sadistic. He was a sexual predator, taking advantage of innocent or naive minded men and women to trick them out of money or into sleeping with him. And his family was filthy rich. He didn't need the money. He was charismatic and devilishly smart- he didn't need to trick people into sleeping with him. He did it because he could. He could smell the naivette from miles away, and he was drawn to their innocence like a shark to blood. He got a sick pleasure out of tainting the pure, ridiculing, demeaning, judging, hating, he considered the seven deadly sins his stomping ground.
His father was a senator, his name was Benjamin Minty.
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Who was infinitely more sleazy and slimy than Franklin was.
The only good person in their family, in Franklin's opinion was his sister Clara.
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She was pretty and sweet, but for some reason she wasn't warped away to heaven with the rest of the pious goody-goodies. She were there in the radiated wasteland just like they were.

One thing that his Sleezebag father was actually good for, was being a paranoid maniac. He'd had a four story lead lined bunker built in their back yard, had it stocked for twenty years, (of most things) and had solar panels attached for renewable energy when the Y2K crisis struck fear into the hearts of the technology dense in 1999. Society didn't fall, but it fell in 2014 when Christ came back in the company of his 4 horsemen- famine, plague, war, and death. A great guy, Jesus.
That was the time the three hit the bunker, with their buddy La Shawnda (who is kind of like an aunt to the kids) who happened to be there at the time.
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They emerged a few weeks later to see that a nuclear missile had hit somewhere in state- demolishing and radiating everything in miles of the contact point. They managed to be on the outskirts of where the radiation was- and it was tapering off- but no one really felt quite comfortable leaving that bunker.
But in addition to that, they all couldn't stand each other. Mr Minty was insufferable. He smelled- and there were no windows. They couldn't get him to bathe- as he wanted to drink the water supply instead of bathe in it.
In addition to all this, the Minty family was completely helpless when it came to taking care of themselves. None of them knew how to cook, clean, or do anything domestic as their maids had always done it.
La Shawnda volunteered to do the domestic stuff in exchange for shelter. She hated the 'only minority around, doing all of the chores' dynamic, but at least she wouldn't get kicked out if they depended on her, and she figured she'd die anyways if she had to eat anymore uncooked Spam.

After a while Franklin decided that he needed some time away from the bunker.
"What made you think that eighteen rolls of toilet paper would suffice, dad?" Franklin hissed to his father in a demeaning tone. This was a gross exaggeration, of course. They had plenty of toilet paper, but it was disappearing at an alarming rate.
"I was planning on throwing you all to the demons, son. If I was down here alone- instead of with three other pains in the asses, it would have lasted me."
"What, an extra hour? You shit like a neanderthal."
"Please guys, can we not talk about shit?" Clara asked playing Mario Kart, not even bothering to look over her shoulder at her squabbling immediate family.
"I'm gonna go find more toilet paper," Franklin insisted, walking over to the bunker ladder.
"You're going to risk your life for toilet--"
"Let 'em," Mr. Minty waved his son off. "If he dies, more space for us."
Clara sulked. She hated that her dad and brother were complete ignoramuses.
"I'm taking the Smith and Wesson with me," declared Frank.
"The HELL YOU ARE, TWERP."
"Can you find potatoes?" La Shawnda asked sweetly, waving at him from the kitchen.
"Bitch do you know how heavy those are??"
"I only need a couple. I mean. Unless you want to eat more Spam."
"UGH. I'll see what I can do. Anything else while I'm out?"
"We're out of floss..." Clara noted.
"Alright. Floss, potatoes, toilet paper--" He opened the gun and looked at the empty chamber. "And bullets."
"No, don't bother, kid. You can bluff your way through a hoard of the undead, I'm sure."
"Well I'm fuckin' hope so because I'm gonna have to." he grabbed a crowbar, hung it from his belt. He sighed and started to put on his rubber clothing and gasmask. It was lead lined- and really fuckin' heavy, but it made him feel better about wandering around in a radiated wasteland. He unhinged the bunker door and closed it quickly behind him.

Locusts with golden armor, human faces, and scorpion tales quickly flew at him spewing acid and breathing fire- he took them out of the air with his crow bar. He couldn't bluff his way out of those fuckers. He started on his way to the outskirts of town to do some looting. It was lame that his family had all of the money in the world, and now it was all useless.

The concrete jungle of the city he used to live in was dilapidated, at best.
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He had always thought that if and when the religious weirdos got warped away- the world would get better. Science would reign, wars would stop- the condition of the plight of the world would reduce- but instead society simply collapsed. It was--disappointing to say the least.
Humming he kicked in a corner shop door and started to plop things into his backpack, until he heard the bell on the front door ring.
He hid and held his empty gun at the shadow of whomever had just come in. He listened.
 
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Well, the world had gone to shit. 2k14 wasn't near as good as people said it would be, actually, it was fucking fantastic for the people that were warped. Not Karrie though. Heaven be damned if someone like her went there. So she killed a few people for money, that wasn't anything compared to who else is stuck in this shithole of a planet. She stomped some undeads face in. "I," stomp, "am" stomp "so" stomp "sick" stomp "of" stomp "this" stomp "bullshit!" she yelled through her gasmask, wiping her bloodied boot on the grass. Dead grass. Ever since Jesus returned for the good people, the four horsemen, messed everything she lived for up.

She made a great living as a mercenary. Paid to kill people she had no feelings or relationship with. Easy money. She lived pretty nicely. Not rich, but she got what she needed, along with stealing from the dead guys. Not like they needed it anymore. Since the Horsemen came, she has been walking for days and weeks. The radiation has faded off pretty well, so all she really needed was a gasmask. She wore khaki shorts and a dirty white tank top with a thin leather jacket over it. She wore large black combat boots, perfect for skull crushing. A handmade bow and arrow was slung across her chest and a few deadly arrows in a quiver at her hip. On her belt hung a few large knives and well as a crow bar. And across her back was an Ak-47 she had found in an abandoned gun shop, with a pouch full of shells.

She had come across a little shop, that could be of assistance. She went in the bell ringing, "Really? Its the fucking apocalypse and they still have bells? Of all the things that didn't get destroyed.." she mutters angrily, walking over to a stand that had some bags of chips and stuff on it, shoving some stuff into her leather bag. She heard a rustling and pulled her crowbar off her belt, holding it up, ready to swing at anything.
 
It was quiet, but the air felt tense. He could tell whoever it was was waiting for him, probably just as nervous as he was. He dropped his weapon and stood with his hands up, peeking over an empty food shelf.
"Civilian!" he shouted through his mask, and he put his hands up. He took a step to the left and nearly tripped on a can of something half buried in garbage and dust. His arms waved, but he quickly regained his balance. "Mostly unarmed! Not gonna hurt you though!"
It seemed to be a girl, and she didn't look afilliated with Damian- since she was looting in the first place. Maybe looting.

Damian's followers had tattooed 666 on their bodies, and in exchange got all the food and fresh water they could eat. There was no need to loot for them.
Franklin would have joined if it weren't for the fact that once you sold yourself to him you were liable to be recruited into his army.
And Franklin wasn't positive- but as soon as you etched the evil numbers onto your skin it was rumored that you'd be sent to the real hell when you died, after hell on earth was over. he wasn't sure of anything anymore, but all of that religious stuff that was probably right in Revelations for the reading if he got bored enough to do it. Either way it all felt like really bad juju and he felt like if he bought into it, the universe would crack.
His scientific universe would crack for acknowledging that a two thousand year old fairy tale book actually held gravity in his scientific world. he couldn't join Damian on principal.

"I'm FM!" He noted to her. "I'm pretty chill..."
 
What sounded like a boys voice shouted at her, "Civilian! Mostly unarmed! Not gonna hurt you though." She almost rolled her eyes. He could easily work for Damian. That devil son of a bitch had recruited a lot of her friends. She stepped out from the corner, holding the crowbar tight enough that her knuckles were white. Damian's army would do anything for the food and water they get. She didn't know why someone that was a member would be in some corner store. To be honest, the whole idea of Damian's Army disgusted her. The human race sold out so easily. Sure she wasn't the most religious person but the fact that they sold themselves out to the antichrist seemed a little immoral.

The person that had yelled out to her, was decked out in radiation gear. Extra careful she guessed. She hooked her crowbar back onto her belt. "You're pretty cocky." she noted back going back to grabbing things off the shelf. She grabbed a couple of bottled waters stuffing them into her bag as well. When she got back to her place she would have to check everything for radiation but for now she just wanted to get whatever she could. She plucked up a package of toothpaste and a travel bottle of mouth wash. Her bag was about full so she added a little thing of soda. It wasn't healthy or priority, but it tasted damn good. She adjusted her mask and the strap on her bag, holding a dagger at her side. You can't trust anyone now a days.
 
(Damian mysteriously provides plentiful good food, so that's why people join him. Stability, hunger, fear, and they join feeling responcible to feed their families, but Damian won't let you join unless you write 666 on yourself, so anyone seen looting probably isn't apart of his army.)

"I invented cocky. That's probably why I'm still here," He noted. He sighed and picked up his backpack, and continued to knock canned and boxed goods into his pack. "Do you know if a place to get fresh food? I'd kill for actual fresh meat or fruits or veggies. you don't happen to be friends with farmers, or... any useful shit like that?" he asked. "I've got cool, clean, fresh water to trade if you do."
The girl wasn't slouching and had a nice looking ponytail- she didn't seem malnourished or very hungry. He hope he found a good lead to some good eats.
 
"I have my ways to get what I need. That of which I'm not going to share with a stranger." She replied picking up a floss and stuffing it in her pocket. Her friends, that sold out to Damian's Army have been leaving her food at different drop sites. She assumed that if Damian found out about it those people would be executed on the spot. But for now, she had it good. She lived in a fully armored building, which she guessed was an old lab. It had security systems that she managed to get working from her hot-wiring days.
 
'Damn. She apparently has whatever the fuck she needs. How the hell am I going to get fresh produce...'
"Whyyyy so cold and stony?" he asked going so far as to stand next to her. "I mean- this is still a community, isn't it? A broken one full of members from the less pious end of the spectrum, but we're all civilized apocalypse refugees, right? Let's be friends. We can play board games and whatnot until the end of our natural lives. Or do you already have friends enough to the point where you don't need human interaction? Because I know I do. My bunker mates are getting on my nerves." 'It doesn't look like she's buying it.' "We also have high quality soap, if you're interested. Much better than Irish Springs." He blithely flicked the bar of soap that she was holding out of her hand. "I've got a sister who's into video games? If you didn't want to hang out with me, of course." 'I really can't sound any more desperate, can I...?' he thought dismally to himself. When society still existed he wouldn't have been caught dead begging for company. "See?" he took off his glove momentarily to tap around on his touch screen phone, and he pulled up a picture of his sister. He did this more to show off the fact that they had a steady source of electricity than to show her the girl. He knew that at least would be hard to refuse if she was living in a tent or something.
 
"No. This isn't a community. This is separate people working alone to survive. I don't want to be your friend and I don't want to play boardgames. " Who was this guy? 'Why is he so desperate?' she asked herself, seeing if she could move away. "Thats nice and all, but soap is not high on my list of things that need to be high quality since modern civilization went down the shitter. Plus, I'm not big on sharing. Your sister sounds nice but I live alone and I have electricity, along with running water and working appliances. So in all honesty, the world may not be in the best shape, but as far as I'm concerned, I have it great." Kerry probably sounded pretty selfish, which she shrugged off almost immediately. You have to fend for yourself nowadays. She picked up that soap he had flicked from her hand and put in in her bag, glaring at him through her mask. "But I will tell you this. If you can find something that I might want or need, I might be willing to make you a tiny trade. Maybe some fresh fruit and some veggies." She shrugged wandering around the store for anything else she might need.
 
"That- isn't true. Science has proven that humans are social creatures and that people need people. Sure, having amenities and safety is nice but if you've got no one to converse with you'll go insane or become depressed in a matter of months. I don't know you, but I'd advise against not holing yourself in your own man made purgatory. But other than that- we have plenty to offer. I've found a way to jury rig the internet, we have electricity, videogames, blankets, pillows, a few potted plants to keep the air fresh in the bunker, power tools, light bulbs, more candy than you can shake a stick at, clothes, toiletries, fresh running and hot water, furniture, cleaning products, AC, s space heater, enough Spam to give a cow salt poisoning. Plenty of DVDs. A small wall of classic literature. I have a small lab complete with beakers, chemicals, Bunsen burners, and microscopes. Things like that. I mean, shit, lady. What do you want? I'm pretty sure that's a shorter list." Franklin folded his arms waiting for a reply. 'Maybe using curse words isn't the way to deal with this chick...' He felt he was already being nice- at least compared to the way he treated people back when people weren't a hot commodity. The idea of having to be ultra nice made him squirm- but then again. If he wanted to have friends in the post apocalypse, he'd have to learn to suck it up and be ultra nice.
Mulling over now 'niceness' worked in his head, he tried to think of the basics of being nice. It didn't come naturally. Manners?
Fft. Manners. He decided if he changed up the game now it'd be suspicious. Maybe he'd be nice if she gave an inch, but it didn't look like she'd even give less than an inch, and he didn't really blame her.
 
Kerrie was originally annoyed that this guy wanted her to come live in a bomb shelter with him and his family. She really did have all the same stuff he did. Except the lab. If she could get access to a lab, then chemical warfare could possibly be a great way to dwindle Damians army. Contaminate their food supply. Of course, that is a disagreeable way of doing things, considering they could use the fresh food. But maybe the water. It only takes a few drops of iodine to purify water, so if she did contaminate the supply, they could easily get more simply by purifying rain water. She weighed her options carefully. She didn't know this guy, and because he is wearing a suit, he could be playing her. Damians army getting braver. The was a sort of desperation in his voice that didn't match how Damian and his army functioned. She readjusted her bag, "You really have a lab? With chemicals and everything?" she asked raising her eyebrows under her mask. She hoped he wasn't lying. That lab could be their best chance at taking down at least some of the hellbent army. Before the apocalypse, Kerrie killed people for money. Chemical warfare was always the cleanest way of doing things. It wasn't her only technique, but lets just say she was top of her science class her whole life.
 
"Yeees. What. Are you a scientist too?" he asked her. It would make sense. The apocalypse had been going for nearly a month and a half now, so only the smart were still alive by now. He didn't know what to make of this girl. "I've got the works. Goggles. Lab coats. I'm looking for a cure for the 'zombies.' I don't believe in 'religious voodoo magic' and I've taken a blood samples from the zombies and the new insects that's appeared. I've isolated the reanimation virus for the zombies, but I'm still looking for a way to expediently kill it. I've found a way to kill it of course, but I want the zombie to drop on contact, not fumble around for three minutes after injection." He sighed. "But I'm close. Once I perfect the darts we can save on water for washing infected clothing."
 
She shrugged, "I wouldn't say scientist but I know my way around a lab." She listened to his talk of a cure for zombies and how he didn't believe in voodoo magic, which is probably a good thing. "Your motives are a lot nicer than mine." she mumbled, "I have this idea but I need a lab to work on it. So what? If I go with you, I can use your lab?" She asked wondering if there was a catch to any of this. There probably was, of course, since it was the apocalypse and no one did things out of the goodness of their heart anymore. All the people like that got warped anyway. "I've got a whole stock of fresh fruit and veggies if thats what it takes." she offered. If she could just get her hands on some lab like anything, she could figure out a way to take down Damian. Of course, the bible said Armageddon was supposed to last seven long years, but Kerrie didn't plan on waiting that long.
 
She knew her away around a lab. He liked that.
'Your motives are a lot nicer than mine,' she had mumbled under her breath, but he had caught it. What exactly did that mean? Was she a nuclear scientist? Was she going to make a bomb and kill everyone in his shelter? What could this seemingly twisted statement even mean? What ever it meant, it was exciting and he planned on being there for the fall out. Was he willing to risk the lives of himself and his family for the sake of entertainment and a good meal?
Hell yeah he was.
And even if she killed everyone else in the bunker, he could probably take her on and survive.
"Yes miss, some fresh food is all it takes. And if you don't trust me, you've got your crow bar. You don't even have to tell me your name if you don't want to, but it's not like 'identity theft', 'bad credit,' or 'stalking' are pressing issues anymore. Are there any chemicals you need in particular? I ran out of calcium hydroxide but I know where to get some- if that's on your list of needs. If not we can just go." After tossing a few more things in his backpack he zipped it up and slid it onto his back. "I'm ready when you are."
 
He gave her a funny look after she spoke about nicer motives. She lifted her crowbar and brought it to rest on her shoulder, with a slight nod. "Well, since I don't know where you live, and you want my fresh food, we're gonna take a little field trip to my place. "I'm Kerrie, by the way." She smiles behind her mask, and pushes the door open with her foot, jerking her head to the side to show him to follow her. She didn't live too far from the store, but it was halfway across the city which was a pretty good walk. Even nicer if you don't encounter any deadly forces. She walked across the dusty terrain, not really checking to make sure the guy was following her or not. The rubble from the buildings crunched beneath her boots and she kept a vigilant eye out for any undead creatures stumbling around in the broken buildings.
 
He followed her out of the store and they were on their way. He liked the vibe she put off. Not overly feminine, he wasn't a big fan of that.
"Hello, Kerrie." he greeted.Franklin had her back and he had his own as they walked through the ruins of the dilapidated cityscape. There were dead zombies beneath their boots. He'd studied how to kill zombies, and through a series of experiments he'd deducted that they actually starved to death. Because their physiology was human with the exception of the reanimation virus, they were easy to kill and he'd found an expedient way of killing them and a safe way of disposing of the bodies if he so needed to.
Zombied didn't scare him, he had a belt full of darts for them jsut in case. It was just the radiated animals and the new insects that Jesus had gifted them. There was relatively nothing going on in the city that they could see or hear, and it was strange but he didn't think too much of the quietness.
He had introduced himself as FM, he was nervous to tell her his real name. Back when society still existed he was a real piece of work. He was notorious for being a womanizer, and also infamous in the community for getting high up in politics, and being a moral rich scumbag. If she knew him, or knew someone that knew him, or kept up with local politics, she probably would have known him if she was from the city that they were in. It was quite possible that he'd mistreated someone in her social circle if she used to be popular.
"I'm Franky," he replied after a good while. He used to go by Franklin solely, so maybe the nickname would throw her off.
 
A tall grey stone building slowly came into view. It had a good four windows, one on each floor. "Nice to meet you Franky. This is it." she said raising her crowbar to point at the building. It was tall and rectangular, and completely bare. She walked up to the front door pressing a four digit code in the pad by the door. The double doors slid open and she walked in waiting for Franky to follow her. Once he was inside she hit a button and the doors closed and re-locked. She removed her mask, and pulled Franky into a chamber that wiped off any radiation they might have gathered on their clothes. Another one of her own creations. Once the machine was finished wiping the radiation from them Kerrie stepped from the chamber tossing her crow bar onto a white couch and walking into a room that had been turned into a make-shift kitchen area. The fluorescent lights flickered, which made Kerrie groan angrily. Her generator was on the fritz again. She opened up the fridge, pulling out what she had, which was a pretty large amount and assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables. "This is what I have at the moment." She said jerking her head in the way of the direction of what she had.
 
(I'm so sorry. School is kicking my ass right now and I haven't been on much and probably will be on less due to the latter.)

Franklin followed her into the double doors, and he was pulled into a room where there was a humming sound in low frequency- and he wondered which wave frequencies she was using. Whatever frequency it was- it must have used a very delacate algorithm to create. Usually he just showered, but he figured he could ask her later because eventually they'd run out of fresh, uncontaminated water. 'Note to self- create a water purification module that neutralizes the effect of radiated particles...' Once they stepped inside- he smirked. So this was her place. Her place was quaint. Pretty spacious and clean, and most assuredly secure. For now, anyway. Stuffy- Kerrie could have used a few live plants to freshen the place's air up, but good. he almost asked if he could look at her generator or power source- but figured it was more polite to not. If she knew her way around a lab, she should be able to fix a generator circuit.
'She's really trusting,' he thought. 'It it were me I'd have her wait outside then come back out and give it to her...' but then he thought that that would be also dangerous in some way- and maybe she was just as vigilant as he was and her way of doing so was by not letting him out of her sight to even have the chance to be up to no good.
When she opened her fridge, he almost got aroused. It was at that moment where he took off his mask and quickly, and gently, picked up a bag of raspberries, and he looked at her pleadingly. "May I please eat these now?" he asked, taking a moment to put his glasses on to inspect the berries more clearly.
Being nice made him feel like a whore sellout. He felt like he was above it, he felt like it was cheesy and beneath him, but he'd certainly act like a nice person and sell out for raspberries. He didn't give a flying fuck if any of his family got any. He'd eat them all by himself if he could. His pain in the ass family could have the eggplant, radishes, celery, and kale, but he fucking wanted the raspberries. And these were gorgeous. Big, and flawless with a deep color. he was salivating but he wouldn't devour them until she gave him the go-ahead. He didn't want to fuck up this alliance- incase she was a raspberry fan also.
He smiled kindly at her, since that was the first time she'd seen his face and he wanted to leave a somewhat affable impression. He didn't want the look she remembered to be a crazed raspberry look. "How did you get all this?" He asked. "Do you have a garden of sorts?" He looked around as if he'd spot a spontaneously manifesting field of dirt with rows of asparagus.
 
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