Mission: Z, IC

[VengefulPeanut]

Location: Truck
Interactions: Carter
​

Flopping down in the bed of the truck, Ryan's head lulled about loosely for a while. Eyes falling on nothing in particular, he struggled to focus on anything else other than the muffled sounds around him. Despite the morning sun pelting down on them, his vision felt dark and constricted. Despite the anaesthetic numbing the area, Ryan could still feel the bolt lodged deeply into his knee - an intense physiological and psychological pain unparalleled by most things.

Time seemed to pass lazily. The hectic atmosphere and the panicked escape from Ballamory barely phasing him. However, one round dinging off the nearby metal was enough to cause a tidal wave of adrenaline to flush through his system. He barely had anything left in him but he sure as hell wasn't going to let his energy reserves go to waste. Eyes widening for a moment as he focused, he ducked his body down to take cover.

"Carter!" he called out, sliding his AR-15 over to the Japanese American. With barely enough strength to prop himself back up, he allowed the dizziness and the nausea to claim him, holding his face against the metal and praying none of the following rounds found their mark.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Items on Person (Ryan):
- AR-15 (24x 5.56 rounds, 1 mags)
- FAK (Bandages, Disinfectant, Plasters)
- Copy of 'Marching Orders' (his best selling novel)
- Knife
- Canteen
- Torch

Outfit:
[spoili]

[/spoili]​

 

[Mobley Eats]

[fieldbox="Carter Yamanashi | Truck | Noon, purple, solid"]

Interactions: Ryan & Hostiles


"Carter!"

Carter's head snapped towards the sound of something sliding across the bed lining and arched an eyebrow in surprise when he realized it was an AR-15. However, he snapped out of his reverie at the sight of Ryan suffering and decided not to waste the man's efforts on questioning the obvious.

"Appreciated honty!" He quickly stowed away his pistol in exchange for the rifle and honed in on the front bumper of the truck behind them. Again, aiming was difficult, but with a weapon packing this much power in comparison to a pistol, a clean shot didn't matter.

Carter let loose several rounds, scattering the hood and front in seething craters. His trigger finger didn't let up until he heard two satisfying *pops* pierce the chaos around him, followed by the high-pitched whistle of air escaping tires. The truck jerked and swerved in response, the hostiles struggling to stay on the road. Carter tossed his head back to hark a laugh before snapping his fingers with extra sass. "Hah! Try to put a new hole in my pretty ass now!!"

---

Inventory
On person
P226 Sig Sauer (7/10 loaded)
AR-15 (21x 5.56 rounds, 1 mags)
Sylvie's Machete
Fabulousness
An ambiguous crush on...idk at this point
Bittersweet memories
Growing fondness for Evie & Hero

Outfit

[/fieldbox]

​

 

[Himilo]

Aveline
Location: iono​

Aveline jumps in the back of the truck, glancing between everyone as they boarded. Some injured, tired, bloodied. As they drove off, she watches the fire and smoke take over; the houses burning her, her garden --. She gasps, she realizes something important had now been left behind and soon forgotten. Her agitated eyes look to Otto then looks away, holding her head in her hand in disappointment, pouting. Her gaze couldn't even look at the others, only the mess that was being left behind, shivering at the cold wind. Her mind was everywhere at once, she couldn't turn her gaze off when Evie awoke nor the mention of their destination, she did, however, close her eyes in response to the bandits poor aim and duck from the flying bullets.

"Ugh." she begins with a groan. "You people are just a buffet of bad luck."

--
​

​

ON PERSON:​

​

- Sneakers
- White t-shirt​

- Blue jeans
- Ankle socks
- Black Jacket
- Baseball Bat (main weapon)
- Silver lighter (in back pocket)​

​

IN PACK:​

​

- Corey's stuffed animal​

- Picture of Aveline and Corey
- 2x Bottle water
- Small pistol
- 9x pistol rounds
- Baby wipes (doesn't actually smell like babies)
- Bagged and labeled meeicine: Ibuprofen (6x), Benadryl (8x), Tylenol (4x)
- Ripped Gauze
- Bagged band-Aids (10x)​

uh huh….okay

 

[Dakota K5]

Otto Williams

Interaction: none
-
When the pursuing truck rounded the corner after them and gun fire started to be exchanged he could do little in the way of help, due to where he was standing he could turn around in any safe way to return fire much less aim with any reasonable accuracy so the most he could do was hang on and hope not to be hit by the gunfire nor get bucked off the truck. He heard a burst of gunfire from the bed of the truck and briefly wondered who was packing the M4 since any of the weapons they had scavenged had just been semi autos from before the infection, he stored it away for later since the incoming fire slacked off as he looked over his shoulder to see the pursuing truck slowing down with rapidly deflating tires which allowed him to breath a brief sigh of relief.
---
On person:
1x AR15
1x 1911A1
7x 7 round 1911 magazines
5x 30 round STANAG mags (26 rounds depleted in total)
1x tanto style combat knife
On Chest Rig:
6x 30 round STANAG magazines​

 

[JJ]

[fieldbox="Dean | Minden Church | 1 October 2026 - Late Morning, lightgreen, solid"]

Ejecting the magazine, it clattered to the lining of the pickup as Dean rummaged through his pack for another one, slamming it into the Colt once he found it and letting off five more shots in quick succession at the pursuing vehicle. By now, Carter had Ryan's rifle, and the distinct ratatatatatata of the AR-15 was deafening in such close proximity. Grimacing against the ringing in his ears, Dean spent the remaining four shots in his pistol as the front right tire exploded, sending sparks into the dirt as the truck ground the rim against asphalt before finally coming to a halt. Ejecting the second magazine, he pulled his bag closer to search for another. They were pulling ahead of their adversaries, now, but one of the men in the truck exited the cab, raising his own rifle. One last handful of shots sprayed the back of the pickup.

Almost simultaneously, several things happened. The back window of their truck shattered, spraying pebbles of tempered glass over the occupants of the cab. Riley screamed, diving for the floor of the cab, and Conner swerved in surprise. The truck tipped up on to two wheels for a split second before he gunned it and jerked the wheel so the balance was equal again, and the truck righted itself.

One of the other bullets hit its mark directly in the center of Dean's chest, tearing through the backpack he was holding and slamming into the lightweight Kevlar vest he had on over his shirt. If it hadn't been for the vest stopping the bullet, it would have killed him, and if it hadn't been for the bag and its contents slowing the bullet, it would have at least broken some ribs. But as it was, fortune smiled upon him.

Not that it felt like it, in the least.

Despite being a dedicated part of the NYPD for years, he'd never actually taken a bullet before. And even this watered down, half-assed version fucking hurt. The force of the bullet sent him back against the pieces of shattered window, completely winded and unable to breathe. It felt like an hour, but was probably only thirty seconds or so before he was finally able to suck in a ragged breath, but instantly regretting it. Pain lanced up and down through his chest with every breath, and it felt like someone had taken a baseball bat and swung full-force at his torso. It was several long, painful minutes, during which the truck pulled far ahead and out of sight of any enemies, until Dean could speak again, though it was more a croak than anything. "Anyone got some spare Aspirin?"

INVENTORY (DEAN)
-------------------------
Wearing
Black cargo pants, black t-shirt
Black combat boots & lightweight Kevlar vest
Black Camelbak

On Person
Colt Combat Commander (0/9) [holding]
Small Machete w/Sheath [on left hip]
Foldable Pocket Knife [in pocket]
Small Lockpicking Kit [in pocket]

Backpack
9mm Rounds [1x box of 21]
9mm Rounds [5x boxes of 50]
9mm Mags [1x mags of 9, 2x empty]
Picture of Last Class from D.C.
Small First-Aid Kit
Police Utility Belt [handcuffs, radio, pepper spray, taser, maglight, baton]
Personal Hygiene Kit [includes battery operated clippers]
Change of Clothing [jeans, black t-shirt, socks, boxers]
Water Purifying Straw
Mess Kit w/Utensils
Weapons Cleaning Kit
Black Pullover Hoodie

Food & Water
1x full 1lb bags of jerky, 1x 1/2 full 1lb bag of jerky,
1x box of 19 granola bars
3x 20oz bottled water, 60oz canteen [full]
85oz black Camelbak, full

[/fieldbox]​

 

[JJ]

Timeskip Post - 1 October, Mid Afternoon (roughly 6 hours later)

The drive to Jackson, Mississippi would normally have taken a little over three hours from Ballamory. But the semi-gridlocked roads and the need for a few backtracks and missed exits had the group pulling into the outskirts of town at just about dusk. They were all wet and miserable, thanks to a persistent rain that had fallen since they'd passed through the center of Louisiana, but no more of the Minden cultists had appeared, which meant they were either all dead, or had deemed the group unworthy of an extensive chase. The latter seemed more likely, but regardless, their homestead had burned to the ground, and with it, any chance of normalcy. There was no returning to Ballamory. They were homeless once again.

For now, the main objective seemed to be getting medical supplies, and after finding, and clearing, a building just on the other side of the Mississippi River, the group moved their wounded inside to discuss their plan.​

 

[Dakota K5]

Otto Williams

Interaction: The group
-
As soon as they had come to a stop Otto had jumped off the truck and was scouting out a location for the group to get out of the elements. The rains from earlier had left them all wet and in dire need of fire and a dry area unless they wanted to risk illness and infection, he quickly found a old brick structure that seemed like it had been abandoned for a long while probably since long before the infection. He found the door to be less then secure as he pushed it in and one of the hinges fell to the ground, rusted. The interior seemed to be an old mechanic's shop, a old couch and a few tables and chairs sat around them while a old staircase led to an upper floor and a lower floor which when the upper level was investigated reveled a rather spacious employee only area with a bathroom, old broken vending machine and a few more couches as well as a window.
Otto headed back down and stepped out before returning to the group. "Old car shop ahead, we can pull the truck in and we got room for everyone to at least get inside. Follow me." He said as he turned back and began to lead the truck and everyone else in it to the garage.
---
On person:
1x AR15
1x 1911A1
7x 7 round 1911 magazines
5x 30 round STANAG mags (26 rounds depleted in total)
1x tanto style combat knife
On Chest Rig:
6x 30 round STANAG magazines​

 

[JJ]

[fieldbox="Dexter | Jackson Mississippi | 1 October 2026 - Mid Afternoon, darkorange, solid"]



Once Conner pulled the truck into the garage and turned off the engine, Dex climbed down from the truck and pulled the rolling door down with a loud, metallic clang. They hadn't seen but a few slow, shambling Infected since crossing into the city limits, but he had a feeling that the closer in to Jackson they got, the bigger the threat would become. It was always like that, for whatever reason... it made sense, to a point, that the highest concentration of human activity would mean the highest initial concentration of Infected, but even ones that were Infected outside the cities seemed almost like they were drawn in. But by what? The other Infected? Or something else? It was almost like they knew that cities were the place that survivors would inevitably end up, because of the availability of supplies. Just like they had.

Opening and closing his burned hand, Dex shook it back and forth a minute to alleviate the stinging while removing a map from his pocket. They'd pilfered it from one of the nearby gas stations, where they'd stopped to see if there was any leftover gas. Unfortunately the station's tanks had been empty, but they managed to siphon a half a tank from a bogged out semi down the road.

Smoothing the map over the table with his uninjured hand, Dex leaned in on his elbows to survey it. It took him a moment to find where they were, but since they'd stayed in pretty much a straight line since crossing the river it wasn't too hard. "There's a hospital really close. An hour walk if we take our time," he read aloud, tracing his finger along the route. Riley, who was reading the map over his shoulder, handed him a pen. He took it with a 'thank you' and repeated the action in ink.

"It should be a small party, in and out. A few of us are very obviously staying - but we'll need some volunteers."

"I'll go," Riley stated immediately. Dex nodded reluctantly without looking at her, knowing it would be a waste of time to protest.

"Anyone else?"

"Me as well," Conner spoke up, finally making his way over to the table.

"Absolutely not," Riley frowned. "You've been driving for six hours, and your leg is still healing. You'll only slow us down."

"She's right. We need to be quick on our feet, anyone who's injured is going to be a liability."

Conner grunted, crossing his arms, but said nothing else.

INVENTORY (DEXTER)
-------------------------
I'll fix this shit at some point.

[/fieldbox]​

 

[KatSea]

Evangeline

She stared down the muzzle of Winslow's pistol as she emptied the barrel of its bullets. She had been surprised at how poorly the boy had kept his one item from home. She had only known him for a few months, but if there was one thing that Evangeline was sure of, it was that Winslow treasured whatever of his family that he had left, even if it was a safety measure his father had kept around the house in case of emergencies. With a sigh, she had begun to clean it, relieved that she was able to find an area for her and Winslow to be secure in. The last haven had fell through after Marcos had shot himself in the head, rotting next to the remains of what Evangeline assumed to be an old woman's garden, but, after having seen that body, Evangeline had grown so sick she couldn't retain to much detail about the area around her. They had stayed for longer than Evangeline had wanted to after his death, but she couldn't take it after she noticed details that were nearly invisible to her before. Slashes along the walls, bullets in the floor, Winslow's missing tooth broken on the carpet.

"Hmm...better." She commented as she finished up, her gaze flickering up to see her friend, his eyes widened in absolute horror. Evangeline's mouth opened as if to speak concern for her friend, but quickly closed as she realized what was the matter with him. She had nearly forgotten about the death of his aunt. "I emptied it." She claimed lightly before placing the bullets back into place. There was only four now, but she had been working to attempt to find ammunition, that was a slow and steady process. She didn't have many shots left on her own rifle, and she wanted to use that only in case of a major crisis. Surprise had over taken her at how quiet the area had seemed, but it set relief into her stomach. She sensed the eye of the storm was the only explanation for their good fortunate.

"Er...that's what I figured Ev." His voice, husky and exhausted, boomed gently against the walls of the hallway. He offered a hand to her, and at first Evangeline decided he wanted his weapon back. She held the pistol towards him, and with a sigh Winslow grabbed her free hand to pull her up. "Come on...can't be sitting all day now can we? Catch a case of the lazy and we could become zombies." His eyebrows knitted playfully, and he rapidly brought them to his forehead, then back down towards a near scowl. He repeated this playful, brow banter until Evangeline rolled her eyes, a wave of nausea passing through her. Bile suddenly caked her tongue and fire burned in her throat. Swallowing it down, she kept her hand gripped around Winslow's. Dizziness set upon her, then quickly dissipated into a small, dull ache.

That must be stress. I have been feeling that heavily the last few days...although I have been rather safe and sound. Perhaps it's the loss of Marcos or...or that. Most likely that. Her fingers nimbly scratched at her brow.

"Mm, wouldn't want that Win."

"You okay? You look..." Winslow inspected his friend head to toe, peeking around each shoulder as if to catch Evangeline's demons lingering over her. "Peachy."

"Tired." She claimed, having used that excuse on multiple occasions.

"Oh...okay." Winslow answered, knowing better than to question her. He placed his hand behind her head, then leaned down, in near dramatics to expose their height difference, to kiss her forehead. She was surprised how much of a brother Winslow had been playing for her. Teasing her, taking care of her if she wasn't doing the same for him, making sure she was feeling mentally well...not to mention the nicknames. "You sure?"

"Yes." Evangeline gently pushed him away, before grabbing his face with both of her hands. "Open your mouth." She commanded, and with a confused look Winslow complied. She nodded slowly, examining the swollen gum where a healthy tooth once settled. "Looks better today." She commented gently, causing a sheepish Winslow to blush

"Er, no need to remind me about that sis." He scoffed gently and walked down to the end of the hallway, ignoring the rooms that scattered along the building. Evangeline followed him, swearing to herself that she could hear the ghosts of past patients behind her, perhaps some screams, some cries, some laughter...scuttling and running, machinery wheeling, swearing, loud, disgusting blares of the dull, death drone. She could almost smell the sweat, the plastic, death. Sickness began to pile up within her and once again, she grabbed onto Winslow's sleeve. "You okay?" He questioned her, to which she simply nodded, no words escaping her. Silently, Winslow guided her to the entrance to the hospital, prying open the door to allow fresh air to enter. "Better?" He asked, promptly closing it again for fear of a possible intruder. Again, Evangeline nodded, eyes glazed over with sleep.

"Tired." She repeated, monotone and dull.



Inventory:

Rifle

Hospital rags

Needle and String

Dwindling hope and mental stability

Unborn baby

 

[Himilo]

Aveline
Location: iono (ask the other guy)​

They had been traveling for hours, and even still she couldn't find the comfort to fall asleep, not like the rain helped. They were long away from the bandits now, but something lingered at the back of her head, she knows it's discomfort but of what she didn't know. She attempts to ignore the feeling as the drive continued, sticked to her thoughts, arms crossed, keeping silent, and her gaze away from the others. Once the truck comes to a stop, she doesn't move for a few moments until she actually gets off the truck and gazed around. Small buildings and shacks mostly… and trees. But it was a new area, the only upside to her.

The garage was...enough. She wanders about the garage as she listens to the group plan for a hospital. "I'll go." she calls to them. Whatever this discomfort was, she'd rather not stay for too long, with a bonus of not having to hear a certain redheads berating tone. She spots a cockroach crawling towards her and insanity moves away. It amuses her with all the dead around, she fear something so...tiny. It still was gross though

--
​

​

ON PERSON:​

​

- Sneakers
- White t-shirt​

- Blue jeans
- Ankle socks
- Black Jacket
- Baseball Bat (main weapon)
- Silver lighter (in back pocket)​

​

IN PACK:​

​

- Corey's stuffed animal​

- Picture of Aveline and Corey
- 2x Bottle water
- Small pistol
- 9x pistol rounds
- Baby wipes (doesn't actually smell like babies)
- Bagged and labeled meeicine: Ibuprofen (6x), Benadryl (8x), Tylenol (4x)
- Ripped Gauze
- Bagged band-Aids (10x)​

uh huh….okay

 

[VengefulPeanut]

Location: Garage
Interactions: Willow, Conner
​

Evie remained quiet as Willow made her introduction to the group. Despite Hero's protests, the situation seemed to under control and thus it seemed they'd be spared any further killing for the day. As the girl approached Ryan and made her comments, Evie was about to remark on her knowing Ryan until the next comment followed, causing the redhead to frown deeply.

"Hey, he's not dead yet!" she protested but didn't see much point in pressing the issue. Rock the boat too much and Ryan's only hope could walk right out of the door.

"I can drive again," Evie volunteered as Conner made his intention of going with them known. "Someone's got to drive the truck back and look beautiful while doing it, right?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

On Person (Evie):
- Hunting Knife
- Bow (12 arrows)​

Backpack/Room (Evie):
Items (3):
- Change of Outfit​

Water (0):

Food (0):​

Outfit:​

[spoili]

[/spoili]​

 

[Mobley Eats]

[fieldbox="Carter Yamanashi | Mechanic's Shop | Mid Afternoon, purple, solid"]

Interactions: Group, Hero & Cockroach


Carter really hated his fucking life right now.

He could stand a lot of things and it took very much to agitate him. However, when one narrowly escapes from a burning building and a band of ravenous hostiles with a graze in his ribs, it was only natural to see a dash of red.

It didn't help that it started raining in the middle of their trip.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," he grumbled under his breath while adjusting his bangs. Of course, that was a waste of energy since they stuck to his forehead, but the motion was a habitual tick for him. The Japanese-American settled for cradling his wound and ignoring the waves of gloom rolling off Ave. Lawd! Chocolate sistuh's killing my vibe over here! The honty should smile more, I bet she'd cute and fuck the game up if she did! He stole a quick glance her way. Yaaaaas, she could slay! He gazed off into the distance tiredly. "Lost potential," he muttered under his breath in faux disappointment.

When Conner pulled the truck into what appeared to be an abandoned mechanic's shop, Carter was one of the first ones to hop out, though that proved to be a dumb move when an ache shot through his ribs. Gaaaaawd, he fucking hated this! Limping around and bleeding wasn't cute--at all.

As Dex and the others discussed who should go to the hospital, he automatically knew he was going to sit this out. He felt fine enough to walk there, but that didn't mean he would do it. That would make him look able-bodied. Instead, he settled down on the floor with a huff and fussed with his wet hair, sweeping stray strands out of his eyes. "Probably done went and washed out my perm," he grumbled (before anyone asks, no, he doesn't actually have a perm--just hair gel). Just great, now his locks wouldn't be bouncy--

"I'll go"

...

Excuse me what?

Carter's brow pinched, slapping on a worried expression as he looked at Evie. "Um, honty, don't mean to rain on your parade," he paused to give himself a little *Ba-Dum-Tssh* before continuing, "But I'm pretty sure you're suffering from a concussion right now. You're a full grown independent woman, do whatevuh you want!" A snap and head knock to the side. "But I'm just giving you a heads up...your head might not be up to this."

Goodness--he was rolling in all the puns today!

He was momentarily distracted by a cockroach scurrying past Ave. Without blinking, he pulled off his boot and crushed it with a small, crunchy squelch. While slipping the boot back on, he said to anyone willing to listen, "Anyways, I'm gonna sit this one out. Queen C has seen enough action today and not the kind I even want. Cecilio's a tough nut to crack." A stealthy wink was sent Cecilio's way.

He put his attention on Hero, unfastening the already loose knot around his neck and removing the cloth. It was soaked and covered in soot...but Carter kept it, slipping the strip into his pocket. One never knew if it would come in handy.

---

Inventory
On person
P226 Sig Sauer (7/10 loaded)
AR-15 (21x 5.56 rounds, 1 mags)
Sylvie's Machete
Fabulousness
Bittersweet memories
Growing fondness for Evie & Hero
Strip of dirty cloth/fabric

Outfit

[/fieldbox]​

 

[Hexatech]

Cecilio & Ringo

​

Somewhere in Jackson
Interactions: Sykes, Ryan, Dex, Carter​

Cecilio had been busy trying to cover his patients in the truck bed when they were set upon by cultists though when they lost them and arrived at Jackson he felt an overwhelming sense of relief. However just because they were safe for the time being didn't mean they were out of the blue just yet. He cleared out an area for Sykes and Ryan to be laid out and he began doing what he could for the two of them. Arrow wounds weren't exactly something he treated before and this wasn't an ideal time to go poking around to try and learn how. With Ryan he was trying to keep a handle on the pain and keep him from bleeding out. With Sykes it was the more difficult process of trying to keep the man alive and it it was chewing through his medical supplies.

He stepped away for a moment waving over to Dex though it was more of a come over gesture. He needed to have a word with the man about what could be a worst case scenario. It pained him to be unable to help Ryan and Sykes especially when it was his job to treat and help patients and yet he couldn't even do so without possibly causing harm. He looked over to them his expression looking rather apologetic before he turned back looking to Dex. He heard Carter's flirt and he gave the man a slightly sad smile before walking over to Dex. "Whats going on?" He asked him not sure what they were discussing having been distracted with his 2 patients.

Ringo had made his way over to Carter and laid down next to the man his tail wagging as he watched everyone go about. He could certainly do with a bath due to the dried blood in his fur. Today had certainly been exciting and boy was Ringo exhausted.

------------------------
Inventory
1x Colt Le901-16s w/ bayonet (15 rounds)
1x 4-14x scope
3x Rifle Magazines (4 loaded)
1x Large canteen ( 4/4 Full)
1x S&W 929 (loaded)
8x 9mm bullets
1x Lighter
1x Trauma kit
1x 7 string acoustic guitar
1x P226 Pistol (9mm) (on Loan to Cartrt)
2x Pistol Magazines (2 loaded) (loaned to Carter)
1x Pump Shotgun (loaded) (loaned to Dex)
12x 12G buckshot (Loaned to Dex)
1x Weapon cleaning / repair kit
Various weapon accessories
1x Riot Gear suit
1x Marlin 336
3x 20 round boxes of 30-30​

 

[JJ]

[fieldbox="Dexter | Jackson Mississippi | 1 October 2026 - Mid Afternoon, darkorange, solid"]



Aveline's offer had been entirely unexpected, and as such, Dex shot her an incredulous look... but nothing in her expression seemed to indicate she was being factitious. It was a bizarre turn of events, certainly - first she'd risked herself to save them back in Ballamory, and now, here she was, volunteering to go on what was sure to be a risky mission. It was the last thing he'd seen happening, as the woman's general demeanor towards the group had always been reluctant and condescending... when she wasn't being downright aggressive. But, maybe she was growing to enjoy their company despite everything. He'd have to give her a little more credit, in the future.

And then Evie. Dexter had to suppress a groan when she volunteered as well. He should have expected it, truly, but the naive part of him truly believed that she'd recognize her own mortality for once and sit this one out. "Evie..." he started, then paused. Telling her outright to stay would surely earn him the coldest of shoulders, which was something he absolutely did not desire. But weighed against the possibility of her injuring herself even further... well...

Man up, Fletcher. You can handle the dog house for a little while if it means she's safe.

Thankfully enough, he didn't have to. Carter seized the moment to let Evie know exactly how foolish he thought it was for her to accompany the mission, blatant as all hell but somehow managing to make it not sound like an insult. Before he could gauge Evie's reaction, though, Jesse sidled over with a forlorn expression.

"We're going to head into town and see if we can get what we need to help them." Dex gestured towards Ryan and Sykes. Lowering his voice, he stepped to the side, away from the group, and beckoned the medic over with a tilt of his head. "How are they looking? Is there any way we can..?" he wanted to say "save them" but couldn't force the words. They were too final. Too grim. Instead, he continued. "What do we need?"

INVENTORY (DEXTER)
-------------------------
I'll fix this shit at some point, I swear.

[/fieldbox]​

 

[Dakota K5]

Otto Williams

Interaction: Dex
-
He had listened to what Dex has said, about needing volunteers to go. Ave, Dex, Riley while Conner and Evie tried to they were both shot down rather quick. Otto stood by the door as he listened, watching for anything that might be perceived as a danger. "I'll go as well." He spoke simply to Dex as he headed back with Jesse, whether Dex heard him or not didn't really matter since it wasn't a matter of if Otto was gonna go but rather when he would be returning with them. He snorted at Ave's reaction to a cockroach, he was glad she had made it out of the mess earlier unharmed for the most part though he knew that the loss of her garden probably wasn't too good for her moral. He filed it away for the time being as he went about preforming some routine maintenance on his rifle and pistol, making sure there was no water sitting in or on any metal bits, while the finish on both the pistol and rifle would go along way to prevent corrosion and rust he knew that a ounce of prevention was better then a pound of cure especially in situations like this.
---
On person:
1x AR15
1x 1911A1
7x 7 round 1911 magazines
5x 30 round STANAG mags (26 rounds depleted in total)
1x tanto style combat knife
On Chest Rig:
6x 30 round STANAG magazines​

 

[VengefulPeanut]

Location: Garage
Interactions: Ryan, Evie
​

A deep set frown was etched onto Evie's face as Carter and Dex made their opposition to her participation obvious - well, mostly Carter. Not one for letting the issue go easy, she was all but ready to chase this up with Dex however, as he conversed with Jessie, the looks on their faces said it all. Perhaps they were right, she would be a liability. The pounding in her head was certainly giving off that message. While she didn't know the two most injured men too well and while she wasn't particularly fond of the gas-mask clad man, the feeling that she could be out there trying to help them but instead would have to sit in place and pray everything would be okay was torture. She trusted in Dex and his abilities. She trusted that all those heading out there would do everything they could to come back safe and successful. However, the events of the day served as damning evidence that there were no guarantees any more, no indisputable safeties. Her eyes fell towards Ryan and with a huff she sat down next to him.

Ryan's head was swirling. The whole room was spinning endlessly, round and round and round and he could barely do anything to stop it. He could barely bring himself change his seating position. The only thing to do had been to close his eyes and hope that the spinning would just stop. It was all he could focus on until a sympathetic voice cut in.

"How you doing?" the voice asked. Opening his eyes, the blurred image of Evie's face next to him began to slowly clear up. He'd never noticed before how much you can discern about yourself from the face of another. Evie's sapphire eyes were bleeding with sadness, the teeth awkwardly sinking into the inside of her lip screaming with awkwardness - it was as much of a diagnosis as any, not that he needed one.

"I don... I don't know, really," Ryan's voice crept out, his words slurred, slow yet focused. "Be honest, how do I look... look like I'm doing?" Evie's words choked in her throat. She didn't know how to answer that. Not at all. Her hesitance was immediately picked up on, though. Words never said were sometimes the loudest. "It's okay. My lips gone blue?"

"A... a little," Evie admitted, looking down at her feet.

"Ah, matches my nail polish, then," he chuckled weakly as he wiggled his fingertips, the nails a blue-ish pale like his lips. A groan of pain rumbled from his throat before he closed his eyes again. "I wish this place would stop spinning."

"I know the feeling," Evie replied, solemnly. Her face melted into a small smile. "Kind of like being on the waltzers!" she chuckled, making her own attempts at small humour though Ryan didn't laugh. His face contorted into an image of confusion.

"Waltzers?"

"Oh, them spinny ride things. You know, goes like 'weaw-waow-weaow', round and round until you want to chunder bucket loads," she explained, making a spinning motion with her fingers, not that he was looking. It went quiet for a moment, neither of them saying anything. Then the moment continued. "Ryan?" Evie asked, concernedly, causing the man to jolt slightly.

"S-sorry, sorry. How are you hol... holding up?" he asked, trying to make his tone sound as sympathetic as possible though just the struggle to speak or achieve coherent thought was enough of a challenge.

"I'm not too bad - apart from the spinning. Head hurts, I guess," she guiltily admitted. In truth, any gripe she could have paled in comparison to his predicament. It felt wrong to moan about it. Deciding to change the topic, she forced a smile back on her lips. "So, ever been on the waltzers?" she asked.

"Yeah, I've been on them," he replied. "I've never been one for disorientating things, though. I used to like sitting in my room... just sitting... typing... writing."

"You wrote books?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah, they were actually quite popular too."

"I'd like to read them some time."

"You should. They're good," he replied in a weak, cocky voice. "You ever do any writing?"

"Me? No, no... sports were more my thing. Archery being the top one," she answered.

"You should write," he advised, his tone humbling. "Sports, reputation, word of mouth, jobs, anything... it all ages, all decays and disappears after a while. Words are timeless. One day in hundreds of years someone is going to find the words we chose to immortalise and that's how they'll judge us. It's better the good people write while the bad people try to make the world a living hell - at least then we'll be redeemable in the eyes of our... children. Death is only the end of the body... Or at least I fucking hope so. Guess I'm on track for finding out," he chuckled. Evie couldn't concur with the humour in the sentiment, though. She could see it written all over his face: he was ready to die. That was fucking damning.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

On Person (Evie):
- Hunting Knife
- Bow (12 arrows)​

Backpack/Room (Evie):
Items (3):
- Change of Outfit​

Water (0):

Food (0):​

Outfit:​

[spoili]

[/spoili]​

 

[JJ]

[fieldbox="Dean | Jackson Mississippi | 1 October 2026 - Mid Afternoon, lightgreen, solid"]

Dean spent the rest of the drive in a pained, soggy silence. For the first several hours, every breath was a struggle, but as the time passed, the sharp pains turned to a dull, unyielding ache. He wasn't sure which he preferred. But by the time they made it to the garage, the stir-craziness of sitting for nearly half a day had him ready to all but launch himself out of the truck. As it was, he waited until everyone else had gone before climbing down himself, attempting to mask the gingerly movements as caution not to slip on the wet metal. He didn't need anyone seeing any weakness from him. Especially right before he was about to make his proposition.

Pulling his pack along with him, Dean finally made it down out of the truck. But as soon as he lifted the bag away from the tailgate, a clatter of plastic pieces about his feet demanded his attention. He glanced down, brow furrowing at the black plastic shards. What the..?

Oh, no.

A surge of horror washed over him, and it was all he could do to mask the absolute dread threatening to overwhelm him. "I'll go too," he choked out at Dexter's query. "But I need to, uh... clean up and stuff." It was a poor excuse, but all he was able to manage. Taking the stairs up to the second floor two at a time despite the pain, Dean sank on to one of the couches and tipped his bag upside down, letting the contents slide out and on to the dusty floor. Just as he'd thought, the satellite phone fell out in a few dozen pieces. Picking up the largest, he traced the bullet hole with his finger, letting his eyes drift closed.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Without being able to make contact with D.C., they'd think he was compromised. Or dead. More likely the latter, but that hardly mattered... regardless, they'd send another team. And that meant more people out here risking their lives to do his job. The job that he was so very close to accomplishing. The group was moving east, like he needed them to. Now all he had to do was seize this moment of confusion and hardship to convince them that D.C. was the best option. They had nowhere else to go. It wouldn't be hard.

But if they sent another team, they would... no. Dean shook his head, forcing the thought out of his mind. That was so incredibly unlikely that it didn't matter. It wouldn't happen. Besides, he was still alive. And more than capable of getting what needed to be done, done.

Snatching a clean shirt away from the pile of junk, Dean unfastened the velcro from the Kevlar vest and pulled it over his head, grimacing at the pain lifting his arm caused. He pulled the shirt off, next, and used it to soak some of the water from his sopping wet hair before starting to pull the dry one over his head. He hesitated, though, to inspect the damage, fingers prodding delicately at the large, dark bruise blossoming around what was near dead-center of his chest. Fuck, ow.

That was going to hurt for a while.


INVENTORY (DEAN)
-------------------------
Wearing
Black cargo pants, black t-shirt
Black combat boots & lightweight Kevlar vest
Black Camelbak

On Person
Colt Combat Commander (0/9) [holding]
Small Machete w/Sheath [on left hip]
Foldable Pocket Knife [in pocket]
Small Lockpicking Kit [in pocket]

Backpack
9mm Rounds [1x box of 21]
9mm Rounds [5x boxes of 50]
9mm Mags [1x mags of 9, 2x empty]
Picture of Last Class from D.C.
Small First-Aid Kit
Police Utility Belt [handcuffs, radio, pepper spray, taser, maglight, baton]
Personal Hygiene Kit [includes battery operated clippers]
Change of Clothing [jeans, black t-shirt, socks, boxers]
Water Purifying Straw
Mess Kit w/Utensils
Weapons Cleaning Kit
Black Pullover Hoodie

Food & Water
1x full 1lb bags of jerky, 1x 1/2 full 1lb bag of jerky,
1x box of 19 granola bars
3x 20oz bottled water, 60oz canteen [full]
85oz black Camelbak, full

[/fieldbox]​

 

[Mobley Eats]

[fieldbox="Carter Yamanashi | Mechanic's Shop | Mid Afternoon, purple, solid"]

Interactions: Evie, Ryan & Dean


Carter internally sighed in relief as Evie realized that she should stay with the others. He couldn't lie--it somewhat bothered him to see her crestfallen demeanor, but Carter wasn't one for genuine comforting. Perhaps a sassy joke or two would pop out of his mouth, but saying something on an entirely serious level and easing any doubts in her mind just...He didn't have the fuel for that right now. The Japanese-American watched lazily as she seated herself next to Ryan, who looked to be knocking at Death's door.

Lawdy, lawdy, he's not gonna make it. Carter huffed under his breath while drumming on his thighs. His ribs still ached, but he was starting to figure out how to deal with the sensation without wanting to snap at the nearest target. Yes, ladies and gents, "Similar to Sexual Withdrawal Grumpy Mode" was on the brink of shutting down. Sorry, the ride would open again next year. However, his features smoothed over into a cautiously bland expression as Evie and Ryan talked, their voices caring faintly over to his ears. Carter could pick out bits and pieces, and knew that the topic was obviously about Ryan's end peeking around the corner.

This wasn't for him.

And yet, despite this cold hard fact, he couldn't help but hear Ryan mutter, "Death is only the end of the body...Or at least I fucking hope so. Guess I'm on track for finding out." The chuckle that followed was disconcerting. Carter wanted to pitch in, to unravel that train of thought until it was reduced to a pile of gorgeous rubble, until it was so messed up and painfully true that Chaos Theory itself wavered in the face of it. However, he held back and settled for scouring his mind for something short and--hopefully--not rude.

Clearing his throat (almost comically) and leaning over, he whispered as softly as he dared, "Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them." He shrugged, a grin playing at his lips as he traded a look between Ryan and Evie. "So yeah, I'm pretty sure your mind and memory is gonna be around for a long time, honty." George Eliot was always a good option. Again, Carter's gaze flickered over to Evie and the rest of the group. Ryan wouldn't truly be dead, not as long as his memory was imprinted in the group's mind. Something told him that was indeed the case.

Death was never anything to be feared, but welcomed in the bleakest of moments.

Feeling somewhat worried that he'd get reeled into something sentimental, he ended his input with a saucy wink and said, "Sorry for the interruption." Luckily, Carter got an immediate distraction when he noticed Dean excusing himself...Hmm, stay here where emotions are killing my vibe or chase after that ass?

...

Hahahahahahah--option D(ick) please~!

Smiling, Carter got up, wincing again from his wound. He gave Hero and Ringo quick little pats on their heads before also making his way up. "Follow the tanned-ass road," he sang under his breath while heading upstairs. He shamelessly walked in while tapping on the door, humming under his breath. However, that proceeded to make him choke on air as he appreciatively eyed Dean's chiseled torso up and down...

And then up again...

And again. Rinse and repeat. Of course, he also noticed the bruise, but didn't know if mentioning it would hurt the man's ego or not. He decided to take the safe route and kept the comment to himself.

Carter laughed while fanning himself. "Oop! Nobody told me it's my birthday~," he teased. However, his short attention-span then directed him to the mess on the floor, presumably stuff out of Dean's pack. Carter was about to kneel down and help (a perfect excuse to sneak a closer look at his ass), but his curiosity drove him to skim a stray photo--

Carter fell still...

In an instant, the blandness returned and he forced a smile. Picking up the photo, he pointed at a childish face among the group, a face that occupied the only surviving chasm of his heart, and said in a chipper voice, "They're cuties. How, uh...You know them?"

---

Inventory
On person
P226 Sig Sauer (7/10 loaded)
AR-15 (21x 5.56 rounds, 1 mags)
Sylvie's Machete
Fabulousness
Bittersweet memories
Growing fondness for Evie & Hero
Strip of dirty cloth/fabric

Outfit

[/fieldbox]​

 

[Hexatech]

Cecilio & Ringo

​

Location: Somewhere in Jackson
Interactions: Dex
​

Cecilio took Dex a good distance away from the others just for extra measure and he spoke in a low whisper so his reply only audible between them. "Dex this is beyond what I know..." he admitted as he was out of his league with these injuries. Sure he knew some basic surgical stuff but he'd never had to deal with arrow injuries and he would end up making it worse if he tried to fiddle around with them. He tried to at least give some good news "With Sykes, He's at least stable which is a miracle given his state...But Ryan's injury is to risky for me to go near and...it's infuriating...that mans trusting me with his life and I can't fucking help..."he said noticing Evie talking with him. "I...I know what I'm suggesting is fucked but I think it would be best to put him out...If it is infected and it certainly looks that way then it's mercy compared to letting him suffer."

Cecilio shook his head and looked to Dex seeming saddened "must be a fucking sight huh? Medic who can't even save his patient..."he mused partly bashing himself. He focused and told Dex what he was going to need"I'm going to need bandages, painkillers, and antibiotics. I used a good deal of my stuff on Sykes but that seems to have helped. I've been using painkillers to try and help Ryan with the pain and keep any bleeding under control...I'm sorry..."he quietly apologized though he wasn't sure why. Either way it just made him feel a bit sick in his stomach realizing the all to familiar sensation back from his paramedic days. "If you can find it...I'm going to need some surgical gear as well. Mainly some hemostats and some scalpels tips. I'd really like to come along we can't leave them without someone to take care of them. I'll need some IV bags too. Just make sure they're not cloudy." He added figuring if they somehow could remove the arrow it might be useful either way it would have useful to have those tools.

------------------------
Inventory
1x Colt Le901-16s w/ bayonet (15 rounds)
1x 4-14x scope
3x Rifle Magazines (4 loaded)
1x Large canteen ( 4/4 Full)
1x S&W 929 (loaded)
8x 9mm bullets
1x Lighter
1x Trauma kit
1x 7 string acoustic guitar
1x P226 Pistol (9mm) (on Loan to Cartrt)
2x Pistol Magazines (2 loaded) (loaned to Carter)
1x Pump Shotgun (loaded) (loaned to Dex)
12x 12G buckshot (Loaned to Dex)
1x Weapon cleaning / repair kit
Various weapon accessories
1x Riot Gear suit
1x Marlin 336
3x 20 round boxes of 30-30​

 

[JJ]

[fieldbox="Dexter | Jackson Mississippi | 1 October 2026 - Mid Afternoon, darkorange, solid"]



Although he'd seen Jesse's explanation coming (after all, anyone who looked at Ryan could practically see the grim reaper standing behind him) he'd hoped differently. And hearing the frustration and pain in his friend's voice was just as hard. Dex put a hand on Jesse's shoulder and squeezed. "I know you've done all you can. Nobody doubts that at all. There are just some things that can't be helped. But we're still going to try. Whether Ryan lives or dies... That's not our call - it's his. And he's strong enough to make that decision if it comes down to it." Dex spared the man a glance, surprised to see Evie beside him, engaging in conversation. It was surely an act of mercy to distract the man from the massive amount of pain he was in, and Dex's eyes softened with affection at that realization.

It really sucked being the kind that had to reassure everyone that they'd be OK. That this was just one more thing that they had to get through. Because hopelessness was not an easy thing to disguise, and it was prevalent here.

"I'll see what we can find. Hopefully it'll be a quick, uneventful trip."

INVENTORY (DEXTER)
-------------------------
I'll fix this shit at some point, I swear.

[/fieldbox]​