The Walking Dead - Among the Ruined [March to Death]

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  1. The Walking Dead
    Among the Ruined

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    Stacey - Natchez, Morgantown Plaza

    In this moment, Stacy was at one with the world. Though the skies above were grey and dull, Stacy felt at ease with her surroundings. She tingled with excitement, feeling a buzz at the back of her neck that felt both familiar and thrilling. She'd taken up yoga with Carley and her crew a few months ago only as a laugh. All she'd wanted to do was make fun of Carley's bullshit zen talk, but all Stacey had got out of it instead was a feeling of anger with herself for not trying the exercises out back when things were normal. Carley was still pretentious as hell, but Stacey had managed to find a begrudging sense of camaraderie with the weirdo. Stacey had managed to let go of a little of that anger she'd always kept trapped inside her, finding new joy in experiences she once found incredibly dull.

    Natchez had always been a boring place to live. Oh, sure, people passing through probably found a little joy out of it, so she heard, but for anyone growing up there, they could never wait to get out of the damn place. It was the pit where dreams came to die, one of many such places across the world as it seemed, and anyone with the sense to have aspirations for the future got as far away from the place as they could. Unluckily for Stacey, the world had to go to shit before she could make that happen, keeping her stranded in this dreary small city for what could possibly be the rest of her life. Perhaps it wasn't all bad, as boring old Natchez turned out to be quiet both before and after the apocalypse, which was honestly a load off Stacey's mind. She couldn't even begin to imagine how hectic things were up in Jackson or down in New Orleans. Besides, Morgantown made it a bit better too.

    Morgantown Middle School was not a school Stacey had ever attended, but she was kind of glad for that now. Living inside the school she attended when she was just a dumb kid probably would have been a little unsettling, she believed. She wasn't even sure how she and Carlos had gotten the idea of heading up that way in the first place. Mel and the others were still getting settled up there by the time they arrived, which meant Stacey got the prestigious job of helping set up a whole goddamn community inside a school. She probably hadn't been much of a help at all, but she had to say that she was totally proud of it regardless. Even if she had to live with girls named Carley and her dumb friends and her actually-kind-of-cool hobby.

    In any case, Stacey was eager to help with whatever Morgantown needed, even if that involved the extremely lame job of scouting. Standing on rooftops for hours at a time was such a damn chore when nothing ever happened. The dead never gathered in high numbers around here, and, as of late, the majority of them practically turned into still statues that lingered around Natchez like a bunch of weird omens. Even if a group of living people came by, they were always heading South, determined to get on a boat and sail far far away. Good for them, Stacey thought, but she was content staying where she was, and that was something she'd never thought she'd be for. Scouting wasn't all bad now that she had a new hobby to keep her occupied, at least. The world had been so crazy and fast before, after all; So loud, that the idea of meditation seemed so weird to Stacey. Now that everything was quiet, stuff like meditation and yoga seemed like the most natural things in the world.

    How was she supposed to know that today would be any different?

    She'd been lost inside her own head, her eyes closed and her gun at her side. She was supposed to be watching for anyone coming in on the highway, but so few people ever did so... When she finally opened her eyes and saw the large crowd coming in from the South, Stacey could only help but stare. She'd been in the zone, fuck these people. They almost looked like an army at the size of them, and Stacey's heart felt like it had dropped into her stomach when she fully realized what she was looking at.

    Standing up quickly, Stacey stumbled backwards as she grabbed for her rifle. She quickly pulled away from the front of the building, moving to the back where she would not be seen from the street. Still holding on to some of that calm, Stacey pulled out her radio and spoke clearly over the usual frequency. "This is Stacey." Anyone in Morgantown's operations room would hear what she had to say, in addition to the community's leaders and the other scouts scattered about. "A large number of the living have come in from from Highway 86, South. There's about forty of them, maybe even fifty... I did not get a good look at them, but the majority of them appeared armed. I have not been fired on, but I don't know what to do. What do I do?" A moment passed, where Stacey paused to gather a deep breath.


    Tyler - Natchez, Morgantown Plaza

    The air was cool, damp, and undeniably calm, but he felt like he was suffocating nonetheless.

    A chill permeated the air, wrapping itself tightly around Tyler and settling deep into his bad leg. Everything seemed to collect in that leg, like a funnel for every ache and disgruntlement that passed him by. It had never really healed, the blame for that lying solely on the shoulders of Michael Tremblay, a man that Tyler couldn't be happier to be rid of. He'd died so unceremoniously, killed by some unknown assailant that Tyler had to figure was some hardcore son of a bitch. Tremblay hadn't been like Tyler, not by a long shot. Tyler had wanted nothing more than to gut the man and watch blood spill forth from him like a waterfall, but he didn't think Tremblay deserved to die, not really. He was stubborn and self-righteous, but somehow a good man, something Tyler couldn't say the same for himself.

    Perhaps this was why his leg remained how it did, a steady reminder that he should have been dead in the ground right now, a corpse like so many others. Tyler knew death clung to him these days, like a tough cold he couldn't seem to beat. Every limping stride shot a dull wave of pain all the way up to his torso, each one feeling like a tick on some kind of death timer. This was not delusional thinking; Tyler knew his his delusional thoughts well, fuelled by anger he knew got away from him at the worst of times. No, this was logical thinking, for he knew fate had delivered him this fucked up situation, delivering a face full of karma for having so narrowly avoided it before. The Haywood survivors and New Orleans stragglers knew him far too well, and there was no doubt just about every one of them wanted him dead. He expected one of them to just go for it eventually, firing a round into the back of his head as they walked. It would have been so easy, especially during the few moments where they managed to sleep.

    Tyler almost wished they would just fucking do it already. His eyes closed tightly at the thought. He imagined it almost too well, his mouth tasting metallic blood that wasn't there. He imagined his body going limp like Reggie's, and his spirit exiting his body to become one with the cool air. He fantasized about flying high into the air and leaving all of this bullshit behind. It would just be over, and Tyler would not have to live another day with himself.

    A tug on his arm brought him back to Earth. He opened his eyes and looked down at Katie, who was looking up at him with an air of concern. She squeezed his hand tightly, staring at him with sad eyes; Katie's eyes always looked sad these days. Tyler observed his little girl for just a moment, his chest tightening in guilt. How could he think such thoughts when he had this precious girl by his side? She was his his hope-- his anchor. She not only kept him grounded, but kept him safe from arm. For all the evil Tyler had caused, Katie still thought of him as the most important person in the world. No one dared touch him in front of her, their moral righteousness stopping them in their tracks. If only Tyler had possessed such a thing before. Then, perhaps, Lauren would still be alive. Perhaps Katie would be in better hands.

    However, Katie was in his hands, and after the arduous journey that had been their trip to Baton Rouge, Tyler saw no interest in facing the apocalypse on his own. Hated by the majority of them or not, Tyler needed them, at least for Katie's sake. Unfortunately for the group at large, Louisiana might as well have been a dead state for all they had managed to find North of Baton Rouge. They'd stayed on Highway 61 and passed into Mississippi, making it eighty miles from Baton Rouge before their last vehicle ran out of gas. The map they had on them had indicated the next major location along the highway was Natchez, prompting everyone to take on the last ten miles of the pilgrimage on foot. The trek had been hard especially on the children and wounded, the girl on the oxygen tank looking deathly ill in particular. There had been some debate on leaving some people behind to come back for them later, but a prevailing dread of being left behind had been on many people's minds. This group had banded together by hardship, but that did little to eliminate the underlying mistrust many had for one another.

    Perhaps some thought that he himself would get violent if left with too few people around him. Tyler could have laughed at the idea.

    As Highway 61 turned into Highway 84, they soon found themselves passing into Natchez, though the event was met with little fanfare. By then the group were too exhausted to be happy for the small victories. The priority now was find a place to rest their tired bodies. Finding supplies would have to come secondary. Another small debate ensued over splitting, but people were even less willing this time to entertain the idea. They passed by a number of schools following this, even a Walmart, but none of these locations offered themselves up as inviting. With everyone so drained, taking risks now could have meant the loss of too many lives to spare.

    The city here was pleasant enough, with the streets looking rather clean despite the occasional dead vehicle. It was clear to Tyler that Natchez's population couldn't have been beyond 20,000 or so. This was practically the middle of nowhere compared to New Orleans, or even Baton Rouge. While that meant the undead would be far easier to deal with, it also meant supplies would be scarce.

    Tyler could tell the group was was growing antsy with every building they passed by. Abram and Jon were looking ready to make a suggestion to possibly head back to the Walmart from before, but movement on the roof of a nearby plaza caught the attention of Tyler and a few of the group's members. Abram caught on quickly and aimed his M24 at the "Morgantown Plaza" roof, prompting Amelia and the other Haywood militia to follow suit. Tyler instinctively fell back, holding on to Katie with an iron grip. Naturally, he found himself beside Scarlett, the one person who seemed to genuinely care for him besides his daughter. It would have been foolish for him to tell her to "Get down" at this point, for he knew she was probably the stronger of the pair of them at this point.

    Caleb, who had been holding on to Katie's cat near the back of the group, let go of the animal. The feline stalked away quickly, easily sensing the danger in the air. "KK," he muttered to the big middle-aged woman in charge of the children. "Get the kids near me."

    As those near the back exchanged positions, Jon had his eyes scanning across the road from the plaza. "Bastard won't fire on us with this many people, but he might have friends around."

    "Just wait," Abram said, looking as still as a statue. His eyes hadn't even blinked since he began aiming, as far as Tyler could tell. He could appreciate that kind of patience in a man. "Wait for him."

    A dull pain started creeping up from Tyler's leg once again, as if reacting to the sudden rising tension within the group. The air was still cold and damp, but Tyler could feel sweat break out across his back. Both he and everyone else here knew of the dangers that lurked in this world. Everyone was a potential danger, no matter who they were and where they were found. Time would tell what danger the individual on the plaza roof was to them, and what kind of people they represented.
    #1 Atomyk, Aug 24, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 24, 2015
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  2. Mel - Natchez, Morgantown Operations Room


    It was funny. Over these months and months since the world had gone to hell...or maybe when hell came up to the world for a visit and dropped off its inhabitants...ever since she'd found these ragtag bunch of idiots, strangers and more, she'd found herself staring up at the sky a lot. Or just staring up and imagining the sight of the sky when she was situated inside as she was now. And every time she just thought a single thought, multiple times a day.

    That being: Life was fucked up.

    She didn't even have to look hard for an example. Every time she passed a mirror, it was staring her in the face. Here she was, a petty thief, delinquent, con artist, hoodlum, amateur graffiti artist, a thousand other things suburbanites would have called her just to feel better about themselves. A reminder that no matter how hard things were for them, that they were still not at the bottom of the barrel.

    And now? Now apparently she was a leader. One of them at least. She'd never really asked for it, never really saw much leadership material in herself. Natural charisma? She preferred solitude. Caring about others? Hell, she trusted other people about as far as she could throw them, even before Walkers were a thing. But as long as they benefited keeping her alive, she'd be whatever was needed for 'em. Maybe that was why even some of those former suburbanite types listened to her when she barked orders or what have you.

    They needed a no nonsense type of leader, and hell, if you're looking to make it out on the street without all the luxuries of a typical suburbia life...guess you couldn't go too wrong with someone of 15+ years of experience at just that. Harsh and caustic but always honest and upfront. Survival came first.

    Especially today. She finished with a thought, crossing her arms as she listened to the report. She mulled it over before lighting up a cigarette.


    Forty to fifty new arrivals. Not walkers, meaning these fuckers would be using their heads. Most of 'em are armed. No one's firing, else I would have already heard that shit from here. If they're a threat and fire when we approach more or less'd be a slaughter. The sound would probably attract Walkers in droves. Goddamn all you can eat buffet of the dead left behind. But if they're friendly...could always use more friendly assistance. But that meant almost upwards of forty new mouths to feed.

    "...Fucking hell." She scratched the back of her head. "Listen Stacey or hell anyone really, if you could get a goddamn better look at 'em, that'd be pretty fucking wonderful. Overall impression, hostile or non-hostile?" She cut off without an over, hoping that the other guys in charge had a better idea.

    Still hated rash calls.

    @Atomyk @Everyone​
    #2 C.T., Aug 24, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 24, 2015
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  3. Scarlett and Samantha - Natchez, Morgantown Plaza

    Seething in her own mind, Scarlett had stayed near the front of the massive group for the most part. In the back of her mind, she knew that she should have been celebrating the fact that she was once again with her sister and that she had Katie safe and Liam safe and Tyler was not dead. That the only real threat now was the undead. She couldn't though. She could not celebrate whatever type of victory this was. Not when she had heard everything that Tyler had presumably done. Not when someone that she had entrusted her life to had lied to her. Scarlett wanted to believe that Tyler was innocent and that Tremblay had been out of his mind, but why? Why would Tremblay have gone through all the trouble of getting Tyler; specifically Tyler, and said all those things about him. Tyler had lied and even though she wanted to deny it, deep down Scarlett knew.

    Although her anger only grew, the young woman would find herself looking over her shoulder at the man and his daughter, making sure no one was trying anything funny. Every now and then she would slow down and walk next to them, checking up on Katie, asking her how her side felt, if she wanted water, or if she was hungry. She would silently observe Tyler as well, making sure that he was not about to drop dead or unconscious. In between her inner turmoil and checking up on the two, Scarlett would eventually find herself near the back of the group, where Liam would be. She couldn't deny that she had made a connection with that little boy and for the moment, he was the only thing keeping her from snapping.

    “Hey buddy.” Scarlett grinned at the boy and ran a hand through his hair. Samantha was next to him but did little to acknowledge her sister. ’Maybe Sam is as mad as I am’ she kept thinking, but never stopped to ask. “How are you holding up? Are you hungry?” Scarlett had apologized over a thousand times to the boy for leaving him, but she thought she should give it a rest. It was in the past. Now she had to prove herself trustworthy, and show him that she would not leave again. A small nudge on her arm made her turn away from Liam, only to see Tyler and Katie by her side. “What’s wrong?” They were perhaps the first words she had spoken to Tyler since they had left Tremblay’s community. Scarlett followed Tyler’s glare and saw Abram and the other armed people get up ahead. Instinctively, she placed herself in front of Tyler and Katie, grabbing the little girls arm and placing her in the between Scarlett and her father “We should turn back to a previous building” Scarlett called out. Catching on to what was going on, Samantha followed suit and grabbed Liam, making him get besides Katie and standing next to Scarlett in order to block the two kids.

    “I’ve always been a horrible shot.” Scarlett whispered as she pulled out the gun she had found. A ‘colt .45’ from what Samantha had told her. It wouldn’t be worth much if they got into a fire fight though, seeing as how it had only one magazine in it. “Just focus on getting to cover if anything happens. Don’t waste any bullets unless it is absolutely necessary.” Samantha reassured her before checking her own weapon and keeping it at the ready.

    Alannah – Morgantown clinic

    “Pretty uneventful day, huh?”

    Alannah looked up as she heard the voice of a woman at the door of what must have been the school’s clinic. It was now her clinic, having claimed it when the community was still ‘young’. A few of the people had caught wind of her medical background although she had denied it, and was voluntold to help out if any injuries should arise. Of course she had agreed, but under the condition that this room would be where she worked out of.

    “Yeah…. But I’d rather have an uneventful and boring day than one filled with blood.” Anna smiled at the woman and waved goodbye as she watched her walk away. “Might as well get food” she muttered as she placed a hand on her growling stomach. Skipping breakfast was a definite no and she would never do that again.

    Grabbing her Beretta, Anna made her way out of the clinic and into the main hallway, tucking the weapon away in its new holster, which she managed to win in a bet a few weeks back.

    Although most people preferred to eat with others and talk about their daily, mundane events, Anna preferred to grab her food and go sit by a tall window upstairs. She enjoyed to look out at the world and daydream about how it was before. If anybody needed her, they knew where to find her. She wasn’t much of a talker and she intended to keep it that way. At least for now.

    As Anna neared the window, she began to slow down at the sight of a moving silhouette. A large, moving silhouette. Still eating, she neared the window and narrowed her eyes, squinting in hopes to focus in on the movement. She nearly choked on the food as she began to see the distinguished characteristics of humans. “Are they dead?” She asked herself once she had swallowed her food, but not moving from her spot. If it was a herd of the dead, they could probably wait it out inside; but if it were living and they were armed, the community might not make it out alive. With the realization now in mind, Anna backed away from the window and quickly walked back down the hall and through the back stairway. It was the easiest way to get to the main offices.

    Alannah always knew when Claiborne was in his office, since the halls began to smell of cigar. “Clay?” She always used the nickname she had made up for him when she came to his office. She made it up mainly because it was much easier for her to pronounce that than his full name. In front of the others, she just called him ‘Mister Borden’. Anna also made sure to knock on his door before entering, never wanting to intrude on anything. She opened the door slowly before hearing him tell her to go inside and made sure to shut the door behind her once she was in. “If one of the dead doesn’t get you, those will.” Anna gave him a small smile before walking over and getting to the point quickly. “We’ve got neighbors…. I think…. There’s a very big group of either people or dead walking around the main highway.”

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  4. Lia - Natchez, Morgantown

    Near the fortified sanctuary known as Morgantown, formerly a prison for children, sat a very pensive Lia. The blonde had her back pressed against one side of the school and her knees were tucked closely to her chest. Her black adidas ball cap tilted over her face to shield her pale skin from the demonic fiery ball from hell, also known as the sun, while she remained engrossed in her own mental reality of thoughts. Although, she was so lost in thought, Lia failed to notice that said demonic ball of fire wasn't really even out today; the sky was as gray as could be.

    The girl only parted from her thoughts upon hearing a faint buzzing sound invade her left ear. She slowly raised a hand and swatted close to her head, accidentally bumping her hat off. Quick to move, Lia managed to catch said hat before it even came close to the ground. Grumbling, she placed the hat back on her head as she heard the buzzing invade her ear once again. Raising her hand once again, Lia slapped her arm--splatting a mosquito on the side of bare arm. She wiped the smashed vampire bug off her arm and onto her hand. Afterwards, Lia pinched it between her fingers, gazing at it with a flat expression.

    "Ignorance is bliss, eh little guy?" she asked the dead creature. Used to having been along for long periods of time, Lia had formed a habit of talking to herself, inanimate objects, and dead things when nobody was around. It was her own method of keeping sane, at least she liked to think. "You never knew how bad the world is," she continued, "You didn't even know you were about to die a moment ago. You were just going about your business, joyfully unaware of everything. I wish I could be that blissfully unaware of everything. But no, sadly I'm a human being, one of the intelligent creatures who has to deal with sci-fi shit such as our own dead bodies coming to life and killing us. Not cool."

    Wiping the diseased bug on the ground next to herself, Lia heaved a heavy sigh. Damn, I hate it here. I know there's safety in numbers, but you can't trust anyone these days. That's exactly why I had to leave all my things somewhere outside this camp with Renegade to guard them. I know Joe meant well, but I really wish he wouldn't have talked me into staying here. I'm better off as a straggler, just me and Renegade.

    About a month ago, Lia had been in a bomb shelter. It was something she found with a few other people. She stayed there for quite some time with these people and her German Shepard, Renegade. Unfortunately, however, the others got sick, eventually dying. In her opinion, that was fine. She liked being alone better anyhow. Although, sadly, she couldn't stay there forever. It wasn't long after the others died that she ran out of food. So she had to leave the comfort of her little shelter and venture out into the world to look for food and, god forbid, meet some new people. Yuck.

    The blonde most certainly did meet some new people. Not long after leaving her shelter, she came across a young man named Joe and two others--Becky and Sam. Although they traveled together, she kept her interactions with them to a minimum--Renegade made sure of that. Being a dog Lia had trained from a puppy, he was very loyal and very obedient; Renegade listened to anything Lia told him. So, obviously, she told him to be on guard with the strangers around.

    After a few weeks of traveling with this little group, they came across Morgantown. Joe and the others were keen on joining this settlement, while Lia not so much. She told them to join it, saying she would continue traveling on her own. Joe, however, was persistent that she come with them and eventually talked her into it. However, Lia only agreed to enter on one condition: she would leave her dog at a location nearby with some of her supplies. She wasn't about to trust these strangers with her own supplies and, not to mention, her most precious treasure: Renegade. Lia planned to keep her dog away until she was certain this place was safe. Once she felt she could trust it, she might go back and get him.

    But, even after two weeks of living in this new settlement, Lia still hadn't retrieved Renegade. She left the camp every day to check on and take care of him, but she still wasn't sure about bringing her best friend to these people. They could've been the nicest people in the world for all she knew, but Lia frankly just didn't like people; even before the world went to hell she hadn't been fond of them. She had always liked animals better.

    Shaken from her thoughts once again, Lia felt an itch attack her arm. Scowling, the girl clasped her hands together to control them, realizing she had been itching a red, irritated spot on her arm without even thinking about it. The mosquito from before must have nailed her. Or perhaps a new mosquito had snacked on her while she was lost in thought? The young survivor wasn't really sure. All she knew was that the small, red little bump on her arm wasn't the only bump. Several small goosebumps also coated her arms. It was spring, and Lia was freaking cold.

    Ugh, maybe I shouldn't have left my extra coat with Renegade. Maybe I'd better go out and get it.

    Rising to her feet, Lia stretched her arms to relax her muscles. She turned to glance back at the school as she began to walk away from it, instantly tensing again as frustrating thoughts plagued her mind. This place is big. What if... more people come here? If this place keeps getting more people, we'll all be jam-packed in this building like sardines. Not cool. In truth, the building had enough room for more people, but Lia was just complaining. She didn't want to see more people coming her way, more people with their problems, hungry bellies to feed, and all of the dangers they likely brought with them...

    The older teen began to walk, contemplating whether or not she really did want to leave to go see Renegade or possibly wait until later. While she strolled about, Lia took her time in making her mind up on this matter. After all, it wasn't as if time really existed anymore anyhow. Sure, there were some clocks around, but checking what time it was now no longer held importance. The only thoughts anyone had on time these days were thoughts contemplating how much of it was left for them. Because, in this day and age, your own time could run out in an instant. You never knew whether or not the next moment of your life would be your last.
    #4 Klutzy Ninja Kitty, Aug 24, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 27, 2015
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  5. Vincent and Angeline- Natchez, Morgantown Quarters

    Cruising down the roads without much talk between the two of them, Vincent decided it was getting far too awkward in the car. So keeping one hand gripped on the wheel, he used the other to run through his hair while speaking up to try and catch Angeline's attention.

    "So, this family of yours. What's it like? Mine was pretty run of the mill folk, I guess. Didn't really approve of some of the decisions that I made but ended up loving me all the same. Suppose one couldn't really ask for more, heh." But after a couple more moments of silence passed, Vincent groaned as he tugged at his hair to clearly show that the silence was annoying him more than it should have. He could understand that from just a glance this girl didn't really seem cut out for surviving in what could only be described accurately as the world's toilet backing up and the biggest shitstorm arising as a result. Only there was the risk of being torn limb from limb and torn apart.

    "Look, I let you ride with me so the least you could do is talk! It just gets weird if I'm the only one speaking. It's like I'm in the car with nobody! I don't even care if you'd tel me to go fuck myself and focus on the road. At least it'd be something you know?" He tried to explain which didn't change Angeline's straightforward but concerned expression. It did finally seem to work in garnering a response from her. Although it may not have been what Vincent really wanted to hear.

    "I will not tolerate such harsh language so if you could please watch that. As for the silence, I'm sorry if it's bugging you. I'm just..really too concerned about my loved ones to talk much." She'd say as she gently clutched the cross necklace wrapped around her neck. It just left Vincent feeling like quite the jerkoff was all. He honestly wasn't too sure what a Tarantino protagonist would do in this kind of situation. He supposed Seth might have simply slapped the religious girl and told her to get over it and he didn't even want to think about what Richie might have done. Vincent and Jules may not have been as sympathetic either. Which left him with only one other option and it was one he didn't like to use too often: Be himself.

    "..I'm sorry. Don't worry about talking if you got other concerns. Family's one of the most important things to a person. But uh, that cross of yours..I'm assuming you're the kind of girl who prays before going to bed. Am I right? C'mon tell me I'm right!" He'd ask while trying to steer away the topic from family because while he tried not to let it show, it was uncomfortable for him as well. Mainly because being forced to dispose of your infected family members could leave such a negative impression on somebody. The change of subject did seem to warrant a small look of relief upon the poor girl's face.

    "My family is everything to me. We've had our ups and downs but we've always came through for eachother in the end. Before I met you I've been praying to the lord to make sure that they come through this okay. I..I'm not even sure about what's actually happening. One of those things attacked me at the hotel room I was staying at. I had a bit of an argument with my parents about something that was so stupid thinking about it now." She'd say before shaking her head and gently nudging Vincent's shoulder. She genuinely didn't want to seem too pushy as Vincent had been very tolerant of her despite the less than warm greeting she had initially tossed his way.

    "I'd hate to be any more of a bother than I already am, but do you think it'd be possible for you to go faster? I know those creatures seem slow but I'm more afraid of what a lot of them could do.." She'd ask as Vincent blinked before sighing as he pressed down further on the gas pedal. "Sure! If we want to waste all the gas we've got left. Something I'd just like to point out is in limited quantity and might be harder to get when we're facing down things that want to nibble on us like the McDonald's breakfast menu!"

    Sad Angeline. (open)

    Sheesh. It just didn't seem like he could try talking to this girl without coming off as an asshole. It just struck him as a strange and kind of depressing that even when rotting people began shambling around, he still wasn't the most socially gifted person around. Not wanting to dig his grave any deeper, he tried to stomach the silence as best as he could as they continued on the path back to where Angeline said her parents resided. On the way however, Angeline had fallen asleep and she wasn't having the most pleasant of dreams to say the least.

    She was back at the party with all of the other religious teens who decided to toss any and all caution to the wind and get plastered off their asses. Thinking to herself that she'd never succumb to something like that, it was then that the number of alcoholic drinks began to multiply and soon everywhere Angeline turned there would be some kind of whisky/liquor/beer or the like. Deciding one sip wouldn't hurt, Angeline paused right before she took a swig as she could just feel her family's disapproval without even needing to see them. Then it came flooding back. The things she said to her parents. The very same people who had paid for and encouraged her to follow her musically inclined dreams. To even think that something could have happened to them and she wasn't even here to help. But everything began to fade as she felt a shaking sensation and as her eyes finally fluttered open, she'd be met with the grinning face of Vincent leaning over her from outside the passenger side of his car.


    "Oh I'm sorry! You looked like you were pretty enraptured in whatever sleep mental-fuckery you had going on. But I believe this is your place?"

    He'd assume as he pointed over his shoulder at the rather moderate looking estate with what appeared to be steel fences surrounding either side of it with the trail clear to the front. Having honestly been a bit annoyed at how brutishly Vincent referred to her dreams, she brushed it off to the side for now as she let herself out of the car and nodded. This was indeed the same home that she had run away from with so little money and on the wrong side of an argument that it didn't seem like she'd be able to resolve. At the confirmation that yes this was indeed her house, Vincent seemed to absolutely brighten up with glee as he unlocked the trunk of his car and pulled out a shotgun and extended it towards Angeline.

    "I'm already packing heat and if our drive here attracted any shamblers, I think introducing them to the point of that shotgun could really do wonders for us living through this thing!" But Angeline shook her head and pushed the gun away. "..Uh, am I missing something here? Are you some kind of pacifist and I read your signals all wrong? Because back when your foot hit me right in the family jewels, that didn't seem like some non-violence to me."

    "..Well, it's more that my family has always taken a negative stance on guns. I've friends who use them and I respect their choices. But I never wish to sully my own hands with holding one or firing one. I have mace in my purse but I have a feeling that it wouldn't do me too much good here." She said just taking a shot out in the dark and Vincent actually humored the idea as he pictured George Clooney trying to blast Santánico Pandemonium in the face with mace and somehow it didn't end up turning out too well. So okay religious girl didn't want to use a gun. Placing the shotgun back in the trunk and closing it up, he'd walk over to a section of the fence that seemed like it hadn't been maintained too well. Propping one of his shoes up on a solitary bar that was already loose to begin with, he'd seek to try and wedge it the rest of the way out before handing it off to Angeline.

    "It's long, thick, and made out of steel. I'm sure whacking someone upside the head with this would do more than leave a bruise in the morning. Just uh don't go for any low blows with it okay?" He'd say with a light attempt at humor as they started on their way. As they drew closer to the estate however, Vincent felt a need to comment on it as if it was important at all to what they had been here to do. "...Huh. You know the estate, the fence, I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume your family's either got some friends in high places or you're the daughter of a very prestigious family."

    "..Well I am a member of the Von Trapp family."

    "..Never heard of ya."

    "What?! But the Sound of Music was based off us. Are you honestly telling me that you haven't the slightest idea as to the history of my lineage?" That actually earned a snicker from Vincent as he finally made his way to the front door and pulled out his 9mm. "Doesn't ring any bells with me. Cinema wise or music wise, sorry! But I don't think we came here to discuss traps or whatever. We came here to check up on your family. Or rather I took you back here because I could use a helping hand in this cruel, cruel, world that we've found ourselves in. Now, I just want you to be prepared for anything that comes your way. If these shamblers get a bit too inquisitive? Well I'll speak to them in the universal language." He'd say as he held up his pistol. "English."

    With both of them aware of what they had to do, he'd push the door open and the two of them began to make their way in. For the most part it seemed genuinely untouched. There were some paintings of Maria Von Trapp and Vincent couldn't help but be creeped out ever so slightly. The German-feel he got from the interior of this place was some kind of Inglorious Bastards vibes going off. Not that he'd accuse Angeline of anything like that, she seemed way too nice. But having seen some pictures of estates within Austria and Germany, all these paintings just came across as weird to him. Which was probably compounded by the fact that he hadn't seen any shamblers yet which was a good sign. Maybe her family was just hiding somewhere and waiting for this whole thing to blow over. Rich people had panic rooms right? As they continued on the way further within the home however, Vincent motioned for Angeline to stop.

    "..What? Do you hear one of those things lurking about?"

    "..I don't think so. But I do smell something pretty rancid coming down that way. You know what rooms are down there?' Vincent asked as he pointed his pistol down the left side of the hallway. Which Angeline knew was the bedrooms. Which could have only meant one thing and she couldn't even begin to imagine that was happening. Not to her family. Gripping the rod like her life depended on it, she rushed down the hall surprising Vincent who ran after her.

    I really hope that smell's just like spoiled meat in the fridge. Because I've already had to go through this once. Dunno if I have the stomach for sitting through it again. I'm even more concerned about if this kid's got the heart for it. Maybe I better go check for it myself..

    "Wait! You can't just go all Rambo-style in there!" Vincent yelled as he stood in front of the bedroom door, preventing Angeline from getting within and discovering the source of the smell. "That's my family in there! I know I might not look it but I can handle one of these shamblers! I can't let them hurt my family!" She cried out in protest which was a very good point and it made Vincent to want to rip chunks of his hair out at what he had to say next.

    "I know! After what you did to me back there, I'm sure as hell that you can take down any shamblers. But your family can't appreciate what you've done if your dead. So, just let me go take a look and if I see anything I'll let you know? Okay? Good." Not waiting to hear Angeline's response, he'd quickly make his way in and shut/locked the door behind him. Hearing an affronted gasp behind the door, Vincent focused on where the smell was coming from. There appeared to be no signs of the family but that smell did seem like it'd belong to one of the shamblers.

    Reaching for the handle of the bathroom door, he'd pull it open and aimed the pistol forward. Yeah, just let Mr. 9MM do all the talking for him. That seemed smart enough. The only problem was it seemed like that the unfortunate truth had come to pass. There was indeed a shambler but it seemed to have been content in crouching down near the bathtub. Obviously, Vincent had no idea whether this was one of Angeline's family members or just a stray one who was unlucky enough to get locked in the bathroom while the rest of the family bolted to somewhere else or to the panic room, if they even did have one.

    "Alright buddy. Let's take things nice and slow before I blow your head clean off.." Vincent muttered quietly as his finger began to pull back on the trigger. But he really shouldn't have spoken up or entered the bathroom to begin with as the undead had been waiting for him to get within grabbing distance as he turned and grappled onto Vincent's jacket and the shot went off course, merely grazing the shambler's skull as it took Vincent down to the ground and the pistol was knocked away from his grasp. He made a really shitty Seth Gecko, the more he thought about it. Digging his nails into the shambler's face, he kept it at bay from tearing his face off with it's teeth.

    "I..ugh! Could..gah! Really use some help here!" He'd say as the shambler's jaws clicking together was going to kill him out of annoyance if it didn't you know bite his face off in the meantime. Hearing the distinct sounds of the creatures from before and Vincent crying out for help, Angeline glanced down at the rod in her hand and although she was sure she'd regret this later, a life was on the line and she'd never let a life be snuffed out if she could help it!

    So bashing away at the door with the rod, she'd reach her hand through to unlock it. Quickly pushing the door open, she'd raise the rod to try and knock the creature away from Vincent before it hurt him. But it was then that she got a good look at the creature. The clothes seemed oddly familiar as did the hair. The face was kind of hard to discern given how decomposed it was. But she nearly dropped the rod upon it finally hitting her who it was. It was her father.

    "Hey! Get this thing off me! Like right now if preferable!" He'd say as his nails weren't doing the trick and the shambler was one bite away from tearing off his cheek. As her eyes began to grow misty, she'd say a little prayer before she whacked her father in the side to knock him off Vincent and then much to his shock, go all American Psycho on his ass.


    "H-Hey that's enough!" Vincent exclaimed as he placed his hands on Angeline's shoulders and lead her away from the now deader-than-dead shambler that was at one point her father. Angeline had a death grip on the blood soaked fence rod but her face was that of a frightened and confused child. Whatever makeup she had on was starting to run down her face. She had no idea what had become of the rest of her family but that had been her father she had just brutally clubbed to death.

    "Listen! I don't know what you think you did back there but you saved me. Usually it's the other way around but you kicked way more ass than I could ever hope to! In a way you defied the cliche! But that thing you smushed? That wasn't your father. It was just a shambler who looked like him..I should know.." It was then that Vincent let Angeline in on what had become of his own family and what he had to do. Calming down enough from that revelation to continue exploring the house with Vincent, they had seen hide nor tail of her family. Which could have only meant one thing. That they had left while her father had stayed behind and locked himself in the bathroom so he couldn't risk hurting them or anyone. In the end he was just as much of an idol as Angeline had thought of him in life.

    Making their way back into the car which was running extremely low on gas, Vincent buckled up and looked over at Angeline. "Hey, are you sure you're okay?"

    "..In all honesty Vincent? I'm unsure I'll ever be okay again. To do what I did and hearing what you had to do your own family, I still don't know what's happened to cause all this and quite frankly I don't want to know. It'd probably make me sick to my stomach. But I'm going to hold out for as long as I can. Because I know that my father went out like a hero protecting his family and me."

    "..Heh. Yeah, I'm sure he'd be proud of you."

    (End Flashback)

    It wasn't long before the duo ended up running of gas and were forced to abandon the car. Many tears were shed by Vincent as he had saved up large amounts of money for that car. But in the state that it was and with no way of running back and forth with any possible gas, there was no other option. So grabbing what they could the two hiked it out on their own until coming across the community known simply as Morgantown. Vincent wasn't too keen on letting himself get too entwined with a group of a bunch of strangers, Angeline was more than eager to make as many friends as she could.

    After some promises to pull their own weight and the like, Vincent and Angeline were let in. Angeline tried to do what she could to talk religion to those in the community who practiced it while Vincent went out on patrols every so often. Today might be one of those days if the lazy git felt like getting ready for the day. Pushing himself up and letting out a yawn, he'd pull his hunting knife out of his knapsack and held it up so he could see his reflection in the blade.


    "Oh yeah. I totally need to shave."
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  6. Hank and Floyd - The Road (Before Morgantown)

    "Look at this," Hank stated, kneeling on the ground as he re-packed his supplies into his camouflaged scavenger bag.

    "I know," Floyd whispered in response, standing with his back against a tree as his squinted eyes gazed upon all of the stragglers that followed them after Baton Rogue burned to the ground. There were too many of them, most naive and inexperienced in the 'real world'. The only ones armed and mentally prepared for the journey that followed were minimal - the rest depended on the minimal.

    "What we gonna do?" Floyd asked, looking at Jessalyn play with her little child Benjamin.

    "For you, Imogen and Heather......I'd do anything," Hank stated, his eyes now also squinted as the sun slowly peaked through the tree leaves. He now looked vacantly at the others, fixing his sight on Tyler and the people he was around. The two warriors weren't too far from the rest, but far enough to have a private conversation.

    "If things go south........We'll kill everybody," Hank finished, licking his bottom lip. Floyd slowly nodded in agreement, knowing their lives were at stake when traveling with such a mass amount of obscure individuals. There was no guarantee they'd survive if all of a sudden they were attacked by their own group. After the bloodshed that went down in Baton Rogue, who knew the thoughts that ran through these people's fragile minds. A lesson that both Hank and Floyd learned was that survival was for the fittest and it was obvious half of these people didn't have what it took.

    Despite this, Hank stood up from his position, strapped his bag on his back and started to regroup with the others who began to load onto the vehicles.

    "Surviving together is all that matters."


    Claiborne Borden - Morgantown Principal's Office - Alannah

    By the time Alannah had announced her entry and her news, Claiborne received the notification via the communication device a minute prior. The man sat on his wooden rocking chair, swaying front and back very slightly which made him look like a human pendulum. He had a thick cigar in between his lips which erupted with smoke every time he exhaled. It was a habit he acquired at a young age from his daddy and granddaddy - old rednecks born in the Southern Mississippi.

    Anyhow, while still staring out into the clear skies through the open window, Claiborne acknowledged Alannah's presence and statement.

    "That's always good," Claiborne started, his smoker vocal cords vibrating to allow him the ability of speech. He then continued by picking up his radio in order to communicate with the other leader of Morgantown.

    "Yeah, I'll take care of this. Why don't y'all put your guns away and just stay put," he said with his little southern accent and commanding voice. Claiborne was very into diplomacy, but also taking care of business. There was no sudden threat from the information he was given, so there shouldn't be forceful action taking place. If there had been shots fired, then the obvious move would be to fire back. Since that didn't happen, it was time to talk.

    The near forty year old man grunted as he stood from his chair, putting out the cigar on the executive desk.

    "You see Alannah, we have no way of understanding this world. We got as much sense as deer skippin' through woods. There's a lot that deer don't know, and it don't change the fact, the world is happenin' to him all the same. What I'm tryin' to say that the course of your life, it is changing. And you don't even see it."

    "It is not the violence that sets men apart, alright, it is the distance he is prepared to go. Right now, we have the power to help these folk survive. Do it or not, the world won't change for them. It won't change for us. But what can change, is our ability to live a couple more days in this world if we had the numbers to do so. I'm goin' down there now to maybe talk some sense into these people, provide them some shelter ya hear?" Claiborne finished as he walked passed Alannah.

    "You can come with me," he added, trusting the girl with bigger tasks. This one was a hell of a big one too.


    Hank and Floyd - Morgantown Plaza

    "She's right, we turn around, go back the road we came," Hank agreed. The best decision was to regroup somewhere else and not take any unnecessary risks. They were being pointed with weapons and had no reasonable idea as to how many others there were in this certain area.

    "Abram, Hank's right. We ain't got the ammo," Floyd affirmed, backing up Hank and Scarlett. He had his pistol in hand and was prepared to open fire as was all the others who were armed. Hank rushed back to the people, whispering for them to take cover and slowly retreat together. He didn't wait for anybody else to make the calls, he did it himself. It was the right move at the moment, the uncertainty and risk far outweigh the benefits. The idea of uniting with other strangers was the initial reason why a lot of people died. People masked themselves with gifts, food, shelter, etc. In reality, they seemed to be maddening crazies who desired strange equities.

    "Everybody stay to your right, they can't see us clearly from this point. Move! Now!" Hank ordered, starting to now jog instead of walk. He didn't like the situation in no way. It reminded him of what occurred to his close friends - to his family.

    "Abram! Let's go," Floyd called out, placing his hand on the soldier's shoulder to force his attention.

    "It ain't safe here man," he restated in a different way. The group would be making some backtracking - losing a bit of time on their travel plans - but who knew? It could save all their lives. In the end, the safer decision was to move away from the pointed weapons and avoid another bloodbath. Hank was quick to act as was Floyd. Abram was also smart to cover them as the others got away and became apparent that the group had decent leadership on it's side. Despite them being a very large group, the stragglers knew who was in charge and who was not. They understood their place in the group - not all, but most. Despite this, they were losing daylight retreating and would have to find another way northward.​
    #6 -QT-, Aug 25, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 25, 2015
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  7. Brian-Natchez-anyone

    Brian wasn't one for traveling, not to mention doing so on foot. Before the fall of humanity, which he was especially happy about, the older teen was one to ride his bike and play video games, and only walking when his bike was unable to be driven that day. Now he walked at least 6 miles daily, traveling from city to city, staying only the night in each of them. His home state was Michigan, and he was only able to escape the suburbs by the help of his best friend, Sarah. The girl was only a year younger then him, and she barley made it to his house before the whole world went to hell. She took him and his pets as far as Ohio, only leaving so she could travel back home, hoping to find her father. Brian managed to travel 933 miles to Natchez, mostly on foot, but with the help of a casual car. With the constant travel, Brian was forced to teach both his cat Simon, and his dog Luck, how to warn him of nearby danger. His dog learned the techniques quickly, but Simon, only in the last four months has the feline finally understood what he was taught. Brian wasn't longing for human companionship, manly due to him having a distaste for human beings before the fall, but because both his animals were smart enough to hold a conversation, if they could speak. He loved his animals, but what he learned to be the only drawbacks where the sharing of his meals and water, and the constant fear of losing them. However, Lucky and Simon where great hunters, giving Brian the luck of finding wild animals to eat, or for them to devour it themselves, leaving Brian more of his own food.

    It's been a month since either of his animals have managed to find any wild game, and Brian's rations were running low, meaning he would soon have to scavenge. Brian wasn't a bad scavenger, especially with the help of his animals. However, Brian wasn't all that physically strong, at the most he could lift 60 pounds, and he always feared encountering a walker due to that fact. Sighing, Brian managed to shrug his backpacks strips back behind shoulders. His backpack was light, he was lacking any healthy amount of food, but thankfully he had 3 water bottles full of fresh water. Looking down to Lucky, Brian smiled, only to have the dog look up at him as soon as he did.

    "You're lucky its cloudy, otherwise you would be almost dehydrated due to that black coat of yours." stated Brian, he knew Lucky would respond, Lucky was the most intelligent dog Brian has ever seen.

    "Bark." lightly replied Lucky. Simon looked to Brian as Lucky barked, only to blink his golden eyes, then look back in front of him as the three walked along the middle of the street. The street held no walkers, which Brian found alarming, and kept him on edge. The emptiness of the streets went on for 2 whole blocks, until Brian turned the corner, finding a large number of Walkers limping their feet towards a roaring Stereo playing "Welcome to the Masquerade" on the far end of the street. Quickly turning, Brian only caught the hiss of Simon as a walker lunged forward, knocking them both off their feet. With a thud! Brian landed on his back, the remains of a man snapping his jaws on top of him. The Walker had half a face, it looked like someone has taken a chainsaw to it, the Walkers hands where missing flesh on 6 fingers, and it smelled far worse then any Walker Brian has encountered before. Unable to push the Walker off of him, Brian was barley able to keep the Zombie far away enough from biting him, while the same Lucky pulled on the back of the Walkers Coat, finally pulling with enough strength to land the Walker on its back next to Brian. Quickly pulling his pocket knife from his front pocket, Brian slammed the blade into the Zombie's skull, killing it.

    "Thanks..." mumbled Brian to Lucky. Brian quickly scooped Simon into his arms, and took off away from the blaring music.
    • Nice execution! Nice execution! x 1
  8. Sam Min-Ho ~ Natchez, Coffee Shop



    A small smattering of dust sprinkled down from the ceiling as something shifted on the floor above, its weight pressuring the wooden floorboards it shambled over. Distant, muffled wheezing and groaning filled the remaining void of silence in what was once Morgantown Academy's premium supplier of caffeinated beverages for its students, ten months of disuse having now transformed it into something akin to a condemned building. Being a small shop on a small campus in an even smaller town, the family-run store had managed to fly more-or-less under the radar during the plague of rioting and looting that seemed to envelop people during the early days of the apocalypse. It helped that the door to the second floor (where the goods were stored) was locked, the viewing window too small to fit through; meaning most prospective scavengers would've had to break through to get in. That took too much time and made too much noise, so most didn't risk it.

    Luckily, if there was a lock, that meant there was also a key out there somewhere. It was just a matter of finding it. And if there was one thing he could say about his young traveling companion, Becky, it was that she had an immense talent for finding things. Or rather, he would say that-- if he spoke at all.

    Sam Min-Ho was not a man of words. He was a man who favored action above all else, and that philosophy had always served him just fine. When Becky handed him the spare key to the coffee shop and explained to him how she'd tracked the object down, by poring through page after page of the school's old storage records and custodial manuscripts, he hadn't uttered a single syllable in response; merely given her a stoic nod of understanding and turned to depart. He had his task. Any non-perishable food or coffee to be found in the café would've been invaluable to the community as a whole, and so it was his duty to undertake retrieval. Becky came to him specifically because she knew all too well the risk of sending an entire scavenging team; the sheer size of the community here left a possibility that there would be those who'd take a cut of their findings for themselves. With supplies wearing thin and a need to ration what they gave out, such a notion would be unacceptable. Becky had a sizable hand in managing the community's stock of food, ammunition and medical supplies, and inconsistencies in their commodities would've driven her crazy. The girl was a chatterbox as it was. There was no telling how she'd be when she was worked up.

    So now, here he was. The shop was situated a small ways off campus, just far enough to walk it without attracting much attention if he kept his head down. The first thing that struck him when he entered the building was the smell-- it was the telltale scent of decay and necrosis that blanketed most corners of the earth these days, and here it was as strong as it was anywhere. The dead were inside. How many, he didn't know... not at first. But, with a little patience and keen listening, he was able to determine that there was just the one, roaming around the establishment's upper level. Good. He could deal with one, no problem.

    He slid the key into the lock, turning it until it clicked and inching the door open slowly so it didn't creak. That done, he stalked up the stairs silently, taking each step one at a time, padded leather shoes silent against the carpet; once he reached the landing, he carefully leaned around the doorframe to take stock of the situation within. One figure stood within, solitary in the far corner of the room, his shoulders slumped and neck lolled at an unnatural angle. It didn't see him at first, but he wasted little time in raising his weapon of choice, a typical toolbox hammer, and lightly rapped it against the wall. The reaction was immediate. The creature whipped its head around to look at him, then lurched its entire body in that direction, arm outstretched, moving with surprising speed for one of the undead.

    But he moved faster.

    He jogged forward to meet the creature, deftly evading its grasp and dancing around to its right. Before it could turn to get him back in its sights, he lashed out with a stiff kick to the walker's knee. Decomposition had weakened its body's structure. Bone and sinew snapped, rotted flesh tore, and the creature lost its balance and fell to the floor, snarling as it continued snapping and crawling in Sam's direction. He respected their determination, if nothing else. The creatures had no sense of fear or self-preservation; they sought only to feed.

    This one wouldn't be feeding on anything. He tensed, whipped his hammer down, and struck the deceased once upon the skull, the force easily enough to crack bone and turn the brain within to mush. Its arms stopped flailing and went limp, and Sam flicked blood off his hammer as he stepped over the fallen form and proceeded to the window.

    Just another day.


    Becky Callaghan ~ Natchez, Morgantown ~ Lia


    "Audio log, entry ten-dash-thirteen. Recorded circa March 2014. Day three hundred and fourteen of case fifty-two: the Craving Corpse Conundrum. From the personal notes of Becky Callaghan. If found, please credit appropriately."

    It was something of a regular sight around the community of Morgantown these days: that of a female figure with pale blonde hair and an unusual spring in her step wandering throughout the settlement, chattering almost constantly into a handheld tape recorder she kept on her person. It wasn't entirely clear where she got the batteries, or the tapes, but most who spotted her during this curious exercise simply assumed it was her way of coping... and far be it from them to interfere with that. It also kept her from talking up a storm in their ears, which was a blessing in and of itself. Anyone who knew her knew that these tapes of hers were her best friends-- she consistently updated them every day, committing even the most minor and insignificant of details to analogue memory, forming a backlog of her exploits during the collapse of civilization. "All part of the investigation!", she chipperly told anyone who inquired, as though each and every little facet of information were somehow relevant to whatever "investigation" she was talking about; apparently, even ten months in and with no hope in sight, Becky Callaghan still believed she could solve the zombie apocalypse.

    And there was just no telling her otherwise.

    "A summary: ten months ago, dead folk started getting up and eating people. Their bite is fatal. End summary," she began, looking oddly serious as she gripped the recorder and held it close to her mouth, currently patrolling around the school grounds. "As of right now, no conclusive evidence has been found as to the cause of this phenomenon, though investigation is underway. However, this intrepid investigator has observed instances of people dying--" Her intoning was interrupted momentarily by a brief, audible shudder, "--of natural causes, or as natural as it gets these days, anyway, and subsequently reanimating no more than a few minutes later, leading me to believe the cause of this mystery is some sort of airborne virus or bacteria that takes effect upon cessation of the body's vital organs. Intriguing, but it gets me no closer to figuring out how this happened than I have been the whole time. Where did this pathogen come from? Was it a natural mutation, or was this the product of a laboratory environment? Either way, I know I'm getting closer. I just gotta keep digging."

    She paused, both in speech and in walking, squinting up at the sky for a moment before she brought the recorder to her mouth and continued.

    "In other news, I discovered a spider nest today. The momma spider's distinctive black-and-yellow thorax immediately identified her as argiope aurantia, or a yellow garden spider. Interestingly, the argiope aurantia's venom contains polyamine toxins which can be compounded into medicinal agents. Hippolyte Lucas, a French entomologist, theorized that-- oohp!"

    She gasped as she accidentally bumped into someone while rounding a corner, having been so preoccupied with her recording she put a little less thought into looking where she was going than she should've been.

    "Whoops! Pardon me, I'm a total klutz-- Lia!"

    The blonde's face lit up as she registered exactly who it was she bumped into. She beamed, pausing her tape recorder and tucking it into her back pocket as she recognized her erstwhile traveling companion. Before arriving at Morgantown, Becky, Sam, Lia and John had traveled together for a time, making their way up towards the Louisiana-Mississippi border in a group. Even though Lia rarely spoke and she didn't actually know a thing about her, as far as Becky was concerned they might as well have been best pals-- mainly because she couldn't take a hint to save her life. She was the same way with Sam - even when the other person didn't say a word back to her or clearly wasn't interested in what she had to say, Becky had both the will and mindset to talk and talk for hours on end about the most trivial things.

    "Gosh, this is good timing! I was recording my daily audio log. I could always use another eyewitness account! Or were you gonna go visit Renniekins?" She gasped, enamored by the thought of Lia's dog (which she'd taken the liberty of nicknaming early on). She always did love animals. "Can I tag along? I haven't seen him in weeks!"

    @Klutzy Ninja Kitty
    #8 OrlandoBloomers, Aug 25, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 25, 2015
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    • Nice execution! Nice execution! x 1

  9. Mel - Morgantown Operations Room - Claiborne Borden


    "Yeah, alright then. Suits me just fine." She replied bluntly to Claiborne, cutting off with a burst of static. She leaned back in her chair, taking a long drag of her cigarette before muttering under her breath. "I really hate that guy." Smug and condescending for a Southern hick. The slight accent just underscoring the sense of arrogance and superiority she felt coming from him. I'll handle this, he says. Why don't you just put the guns away and sit down, he says. Like the little children you are. That part he doesn't say but the meaning was unmistakable as far as she was concerned.

    Fellow leader or no, the guy had annoying tendencies that really got under her skin. That said, he was human. Him getting under her skin was much more preferable to Walkers or Biters or Chompers or Fucking sons of bitches or whatever the hell you call them. And he was handy nevertheless. Just like the rest.

    She shook her head, withdrawing her stolen smartphone and just staring at the blank screen. Cell service had been down for a while, ditto most power plants. Their own personal generators though, sometimes that was enough. Just to charge for a few moments, allow her to flick through photos of a time that felt like an eternity ago. A big score here, a successful con there. A video of watching some kiss-ass, self-styled competitor of hers getting exactly what he wanted. It didn't end the way he had hoped. Still made her chuckle.

    But inevitably, the battery died again and she just stuffed the phone away once more. It was almost like a hobby now. With a sigh, Mel rose up out of her chair and made her way over to their food rations, grabbing up a single apple and skulking back the way she came. The apple was sweet...but all she felt was bitter.

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  10. John Redhawk - Natchez, Morgantown Plaza - survivor group

    Outside the Nearby Walmart, former MLB player John Redhawk was piling boxes into his pick up truck. Since joining the Morgan Town group, with he three traveling mates Sam, Becky, and Lia. Redhawk had been doing runs for them. This time, John's hull was big. bunch of can foods, mostly stew, bottled watered, bunch of books, and clothing. Most interesting? John found a Hershey 's chocolate truck, stoked full of products. John was about to get half of the boxes in before something hit him.

    Damn, not enough room. I can always come back.

    Now granted, candy wasn't important to surviving, but for the spirit, it's a lifter. Tying the boxes down, John checked around for huskers . There were a bunch in the Walmart, however, it was clear for the moment.

    Even though it was mid day, John felt tired. He slept well, and he was happy, relatively speaking. It was just one of those days.

    Driving down the highway, John was On a roll. The group of survivors a head of him could hear the truck coming. Things didn't click for John right away, however he stopped his truck when he got near.


    Turning off the truck, John would but his hands up. No way he'd try to mess with forty something people. John knew what could go down. At best, they would leave him alone , at worst, he could die. Maybe someone would know who he was. But for now, he waited for the groups move. Just had to keep his Hands up. He had to convince them he wasn't a threat

    @Atomyk @Wolverbells @-QT-
    #10 Josh M, Aug 25, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 25, 2015
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  11. Lia - Natchez, Morgantown - Becky

    While Lia more commonly had the nerve to speak when there was nobody around, the presence of others immediately locked her lips. Before Becky had run into her, Lia was mumbling to herself, speaking aloud her thoughts on Renegade's current location while wondering what he was doing. "He's probably pissed at me," she said, adjusting her cap as she walked along. "Every time I go to visit him, he wants to come back with me, but I still make him stay behind. He's obedient and listens, but I have a feeling that pretty soon he's going to start giving me the cold shoulder when I go to visit him if I don't let him come back here... Ugh, but if he comes back here he's gonna have to deal with people like--"

    Lia immediately cut herself off, exclaiming the name of the person who rounded a corner and bumped into her. "--Becky!" Lia took a step back and frowned, folding her arms defensively as she looked upon the the other blonde, young woman. Standing before her was one of her previous traveling companions. One of her previous, very talkative traveling partners. During their time traveling together, Lia had found it rather difficult to keep up with all that Becky had to say--especially when she wasn't keen on listening or talking to other people in the first place. After a while, Lia had learned how to tune her out, but it was difficult to do so when she directly spoke to her... like she was doing now.

    When Becky began to rattle on about her audio log, Lia tried not to roll her eyes. What was that girl going to do when her tape recorder finally broke or there were no more batteries in the world to fuel it? The pensive survivor figured the girl would probably go crazy, well, crazier than she already was, at least.

    After rambling about her tape recorder, she mentioned Renegade--calling him the ridiculous nickname she seemed to insist on calling him. One of the few, but frequent, things Lia actually did manage to say to Becky was when she corrected the woman on her companion's name. "Renegade," she flatly mumbled, narrowing her eyes. Although it was pointless to bother, because Becky seemed not to pay any attention to these corrections, Lia still felt them necessary. Her parents had named Renegade. The name came from them, so it helped her still feel connected to them in some way. After all, she would likely never see them again; they were either dead or long gone like anyone else from her old life. All that she had left of her past was Renegade.

    The next thing Becky said caused the back of Lia's neck to tense; the young woman wanted to come with her to visit Renegade. "Uh," Lia began, mentally truing to scramble for an excuse to get out of Becky coming along. "I hope you have a weapon on you then. It's not exactly safe where I kept Renegade." Bad call, Lia, just about everyone has a weapon on them these days. Damn it. There's probably no getting out of this.

    "Just try not to talk too much."

    Yeah, right, who am I kidding? Asking Becky not to talk too much is like asking a corpse not to eat you.



    Jake and Andy - Natchez, Morgantown Clinic - Anybody In The Clinic

    Stomp stomp stomp stomp.

    Jake was running.

    The man's dark eyes were fixed ahead of him, narrowed and determined as they watched the door to Morgantown's building grow closer and closer. The only thing he could think about right now was getting inside, finding help, and taking care of this damn problem he had been putting off for quite some time now. Unfortunately, the problem wasn't his own either; his nephew, Andy, was the one who had a problem.

    With his blue eyes widened, a boy of about twelve-years-old whom Jake was carrying in his arms, pressed his hands over his mouth, looking horrified. As Jake was a strong man, Andy had given up squirming in his grasp a moment ago, but when he noticed the building growing closer to them, the boy began another attempt. He wiggled, speaking in a muffled tone with his hands still over his mouth. "Let me go! Please! I'm not going to get an infection! They don't hurt! I'll figure out a way to take them off myself!"

    "Bullshit," Jake roared at the boy, accidentally spitting in his face. Calming his voice down, Jake frowned. "Sorry, I know your mother didn't like people cursing around you, but this really is bullshit. Andy, I heard you out there crying and holding your mouth. They're hurting you, and it's about time they come out. I don't care if I have to drag you to the clinic to get you some help. They're doing you more harm than good now."

    Andy groaned loudly, wiping his face off. "That's not the reason why I was crying! I was crying because... I hate this place. I miss my parents," he fibbed.

    Grumbling, Jake threw open the door to Morgantown and headed on inside. "Forgive me for saying this, but that's bullshit too. You were away at boarding school. You're used to being away from your parents. I know you're not that worried about them. And we've been here for a while now. The other day you just told me you were fine with it here. I'm really sorry, but you need a little tough love right now. I know you're scared to get them cut off, but you'll thank me for this later."

    "Like I'd ever thank you for anything," the child rudely spat back, folding his arms as he began to pout. It wasn't long before Jake finally arrived to the clinic, bursting into the room. He didn't bother to look around or contemplate how many people were in there. He was only focused on his sole problem.

    "Anybody know how to take braces off a kid's teeth?" he called out.

    #11 Klutzy Ninja Kitty, Aug 25, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 31, 2015
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  12. Riley-Natchez, Morgantown Plaza


    Riley hadn't had much time to change out of his orange jumpsuit that the detention center had been so insistent he wore some variation for the past four years. Which is why it was at the top of his to do things list before searching for wherever Rufus had run off to. Armed with only a glock he had yoinked off a dead security guard and a socket wrench, Riley wasn't exactly a walking arsenal. But from what he had seen with the mechanic back at the center, it was more than enough to handle these stiffs. But making sure to avoid as many as he could without intentionally luring them after him, he had to find a home where he could get some clothes.

    His search wouldn't take long however as he settled upon a house a couple blocks away from the center. Place seemed pretty stable on the outside. Front door was locked however. But that was no problem to good ol Riley here. Whipping out his socket wrench he'd use it to smash through the glass placed on either side of the door. Just enough for him to clear the rest away so he could fit his hand in and unlock the door from inside. Flicking the lock on the doorknob upwards, he'd pull his hand back out and kicked it closed behind him. Looks like a tornado had gone through the inside of this place. With tables flipped, the flat-screen TV smashed, and pots-pans scattered all over the place in what he assumed to be the kitchen.

    He supposed he could go and see what kinda food these people had to offer before he left. But now he had to look around for some clothes. Making his way into the closest room to the left wall, he'd notice the abundant amount of game systems within it's room and books of all shapes and sizes scattered all over the place. Seemed pretty obvious that whoever used to live in this room earned everything they got or was spoiled silly. Besides, it's not like any of this junk mattered when it seemed like the world was going through one of the biggest upheavals in history. Only this time it had creatures who ate you alive. That was a pretty big difference. None of the clothes in this guy's closet really seemed to match with what Riley was going for. He wanted something that stood out. Showed out done he was with the world in general and he figured something green might have done the trick.

    But this guy had no green shirts that weren't Kermit the Frog-based in some way. Ripping down those shirts and tossing them into a pile near the door, Riley slumped down on the bed unsure of where to go from here. But just as he was about to get up and scrounge around for some food, he'd take look over at the right side of the room. It looked like there were boxes of what looked like some kinda manga or something. But they had piles of clothes atop it. Well he wasn't exactly too interested in the adventures of some supposed ninja running around orange while the world was ending. So grabbing through the pile of clothes, he'd start throwing aside whatever didn't catch his eye. Once his throwing had ceased, he'd be down to a pair of blue jeans and a green jacket.

    "..Yeah. This'll work."

    The blue jeans really seemed to compliment what he was going for. It wasn't bright enough that it'd contrast with his green but it'd still have some sense of difference which is what he had been going for. Closing the window blinders, he began to change his clothes from the jumpsuit to the apparel he had found and would have left the room be after that. But he noticed what looked like a box poptarts sitting precariously on top of a SNES/NES combination machine. Deciding that taking one couldn't hurt, he'd grab one package of cherry poptarts from the box and tucked it away in one of the pouches for later.

    Now it was onto to taking a closer look around this place. The first thing to start off with was the kitchen. Pulling open whatever cabinet doors there may have been, Riley groaned angrily as he couldn't seem to find much worth salvaging in here. Unless he was keen on Chef Boyardee's raviolis and some canned pineapples for a while. Deciding he'd grab some just in case he turned towards the fridge which baffled him completely.

    It appeared that in what he could only assume had been some kind of effort to ward off any potential thieves like himself, there was some kind of thick chain lock on the bars of the fridge preventing it from being opened. They looked too thick to be cut by any usual boltcutters not that he had any on his person to start with. Giving the lock a test pull, Riley shook his head in bewilderment. Yep, he certainly wasn't getting any food out of there. Which left their backyard to explore. Glancing down and seeing a doggy door, a small smirk came to his face. Dogs always seemed to brighten up his mood when nothing else would and he needed it after having the fridge be denied to him by some crazy-prepared survivors.

    Making his way into the backyard, Riley glanced around and right off the bat there didn't seem like there was a whole lot for him to use or take. There was a pretty nice table out here but wasn't like he could just tuck that in his jacket and take it with him. There did appear to be two crates laying around that maybe had some tools in it or something. Pushing one of them open, Riley was rather disappointed with what he found. It looked like old knick-knacks like a child's football helmet and a torn up and wet phone book from years long gone by. Tossing aside the phonebook without a second thought over the neighbor's fence, Riley closed the box and sat down atop it as he looked up at the sky.

    Rufus had something along the lines of it feeling good to finally be getting some air on their own terms. Not whenever the authority at the detention center felt like letting them out into the park. He was his own man now and he could do what he wanted. It just came across as a bit unfortunate that these creatures seemed to come along with his freedom as some kind of macabre package deal. Placing his forearm over his knee in contemplation, he tried to think about where to go from here.


    It was some kinda mask. Like ones he imagined a biker belonging to Hell's Angels might wear or something. Could have also been a piece of a much larger costume. But something about it appealed to the teenager and so he grabbed after shooing away some bugs that had been hovering near it. It had a neat skull-mouth design on it which he could dig. Pulling it over his head, he'd look in the window nearby to see how well it fit him. Yep. It was a perfect match. But while his look may have been fixed, he himself still had quite a bit to do.

    Pulling his socket wrench out, he continued to look over the rest of the backyard. The grass didn't really seem to have much of note besides hardened dog feces which he really could have done without in his life to be perfectly honest. There was another one of those crates though and making his way over to it, he placed the wrench on a nearby bar-counter they had apparently set up here and had gotten half-way through demolishing before giving up.

    "Maybe I'll find something useful in this one.."

    He'd hope only to be disappointed yet again. It was nothing more than decorative yard lamps as far as the eye could see along with chunks of wood. He supposed that if his wrench ever grew too monotonous, he could club one of these things upside the head with a shard of wood. Which may have been truer than he would have liked. One of the maggot-farms had been lurking behind the bar for quite a while and being alarmed by Riley opening the box and then his groan of disapproval at failing to find anything worthwhile, it picked itself up and began to shuffle from around the bar which alerted Riley as he turned away from the crate and clutched his socket wrench as tightly as one could.


    "Seems I'm not the only guest here after all.."

    Taking a step back to avoid the creature's intial attempt to try and wrap it's arms around Riley, he'd give a whack to the side of the head with the wrench. The blow certainly shuddered the creature as it nearly fell into the opened crate. But Riley wasn't too keen on letting it get a chance to get back up. Pocketing his wrench, he'd seek to grab the lid of the crate and smash it down on the creature's neck cutting off it's moans every time.

    Just as the one back at the detention center had however, this one took on the appearance of the same bullied who had made Riley's life in high school a living hell. His white milky eyes had changed into that of the same judging blue eyes. Pausing in the repeated slamming of the door down on this thing's neck, Riley felt a chilling sensation run throughout the whole of his body as it looked like the 'bully' was speaking.

    "What's wrong? Scared Castro?"

    Riley refused to let himself be controlled by these visions anymore! The guy was dead! Had been for over four years! He couldn't keep taunting him like this! In actuality Riley was right. The bully who had tormented him for so long had been beaten to a bloody pulp by Riley's trusty socket wrench and had been buried not too long after. He had even heard threats of being executed by some of the family members at his trial. But this wasn't him. This was a creature infested with wiggling maggots that was trying to take a bite out of him. As the vision of the bully finally faded for the moment, Riley smashed down the door as hard as he could and with a sickening squelch, the creature's body finally ceased moving.

    Slumping into a seat with his head in his hands against the box, Riley had broken out into a furious sweat. He couldn't understand why these visions kept happening. He had made sure that his tormentor was good and dead. Until his brains were nothing more than mush intermixed with sprinkles of gray matter here and there. So why did he show up every time he fought one of these things? If he wasn't careful than all it'd end up doing is get him killed if he were to panic in a crowd of them.

    Wait! Maybe the poptart he had tucked away in his jacket's pouch would calm his nerves. Unbuttoning the pouch, he'd grab the poptart and ripping the aluminum packaging off, he'd bite into it and slowly began to chew before his face scrunched up in disgust.


    Tossing aside the long past it's expiration date breakfast treat, he rose to his feet and decided that he was done with this place. He had gotten his wardrobe and that was good enough for him. Tucking the wrench away he started to head out through the side gate. He still didn't have the biggest idea on where to go but anywhere was better than this damned place.

    (End Flashback)

    He had come across the Morgantown community after a while of wandering about by himself. It had been quite a while since he had found himself in a group of people that didn't consist of criminals and murderers. Or at least as far as he knew within this community's ranks anyhow.

    Taking upon the task as a scavenger, Riley had headed out with his trusty wrench and glock to go out and see what he could get. He heard that there was some CVS nearby. If it hadn't been picked clean to the bone that was. The door's automated openers still seemed to work at least which was good. Making his way inside and glancing up, he noticed that the monitor that was used to look at those who walked in had been shattered. Presumably by a gun toting bandit or something if he had to really take some time to guess it.

    There did appear to be some bags of food laying scattered around on the floor. Mainly ones that he guessed people weren't too keen on taking and it wasn't as if he could blame them. But he couldn't exactly go back empty handed. So kneeling down he picked up the bag of Funions, Sour Gummi Worms, and the like and tucked them into one of the remaining bags behind the counter. Still while food was nice and all, that wasn't necessarily what he had come here for. Making his way to the pharmacy section of the store, he would have simply vaulted himself over the counter and see what painkillers and the like may have been still there for the taking.

    If it weren't for the walker which pushed itself in from the backroom and headed towards where it could smell Riley. Not wanting to waste any ammo from his glock on a lone walker and this wasn't exactly the best place to lure a horde of them when he might have had to come back here later on. Unsheathing his wrench, he'd hold it like one would hold a knife if they were to throw it and taking aim, he let that thing fly.


    Only the wrench wasn't aerodynamically gifted as the knife was and so it only ended up beaning the walker in the head and causing it to stumble back. While the wrench itself fell to the ground. Just being the slightest bit disappointed in himself for that goof-up, he'd charge forward as he sought to try and tackle the walker into one of the shelves toppling it down as the walker tried to claw and bite at him all the while.

    Making a very strong effort to keep the thing from getting it's teeth into him, Riley moved the tip of his shoe outwards to try and drag the wrench back to him. As the walker got antsy and tried to nip at his nose, Riley gripped it by the throat and pinned against the downed shelf and grabbed his wrench once it was close enough for him. Holding the wrench above the walker's head, Riley closed his eyes to try and prevent the visions from before playing out as they had so many other times with the Walkers.

    But yet the voice still echoed within his head as he proceeded to pound the walker's cranium into rotten mush.

    "Why so tense, Castro?"

    Once the moaning had ceased, Riley pushed himself off the walker and grabbing his bag of snackfoods and pills he started off for the exit of the CVS. He had seen the medics for the usual stuff. Cuts and scrapes that that he may have gotten as a result of his scavenging for the community. But he never told them of how he continued to see his face on every walker. In his mind it could have given them grounds for considering him unstable and who knew what they'd do to him? He couldn't take that risk. At least not for now..

    As he started to make his way back to the school however, he stopped upon noticing the rather hefty amount of survivors standing around here. Well, this didn't seem like something you saw everyday and he wasn't really sure he wanted to see crowds this big everyday. They weren't walkers which was a relief but maybe it was just Riley's soured nature due to having no visitors during his time in the detention center but he didn't try too hard to find the good nature in most people. There were people who were useful and people out to get you. That's the way the world worked in his eyes..

    @Atomyk @Wolverbells @-QT-
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  13. [​IMG]
    Nathan "Nate" Davidson
    Morgantown Community
    With: Clay - Alannah - Anyone

    A sigh escaped his lips. He was sitting on a chair in his own quarters. Inside the Morgantown community the people had created. His wedding ring was on the table before him, along with his 9mm Pistol. His hazel eyes were somewhat serious and peering at the table. He was deep in his own chain of thoughts. It had been 10 months since it all started. The thought about her being alive still lingered in the back of his mind. However, he was now used to the daily life in the new world. Filled with despicable creatures walking around, using whatever opportunity to bite or create more of these Walkers. Yes, if anything, that's what he would call them. Even calling them the dead would be more fitting.

    His left hand was placed on the table, with his finger tumbling about the silver ring before him. Nathan was still satisfied with what he had, what the community was, and the fact that he was still alive in this wretched world. He had a responsibility, and that was to take care of the people of Morgantown, and do his best to preserve what they had. His radio was strapped to his left hip when a familiar voice was heard through it, dragging his attention back to reality. His expression became serious as he listened to Stacey's voice. It was not a surprise that sometime in the future someone, who is not the dead would come knocking on the door. Things were still safe with what Stacey said.

    Nathan grabbed his radio and held it close to him without responding. Since both Mel and Claiborne issued orders, though the decisive decision was to stay put until the latter spoke to the new arrivals outside the community. Strapping the radio back by his hip, he stood up from the chair, his expression still serious. He respected Claiborne, and the fact that he wanted to take the easy way out without any bloodshed. Even if Nathan agreed to his decision, there was just no way in hell he would let him go out there alone.

    Looking at the silver ring and the gun on the table, he had to make a choice. A few seconds later, he picked up the gun and left the ring. He placed the gun behind his back, before exiting his quarters. Grabbing his radio again, he changed the frequency so only Stacey could hear him. "Stace... This is Nathan.. Just keep your gun ready if anything were to happen... We cant trust them... Even if they are like us..." He sighed disappointingly, before continuing.

    "People can be just as deadly as the dead walking among us.. If anything were to happen, take a shot.. Hopefully not does happen.." He finished. Nathan was walking down the hallway towards Claiborne. He knew where he was. By the time Claiborne exited the Principal's Office, Nathan was leaning against the wall, waiting for him.

    "Although I respect your decision, Clay.. I'm not letting you go out there alone with her.. I'll be coming with you.."

    @Atomyk @-QT- @C.T. @Wolverbells
    #13 Akashi, Aug 25, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 25, 2015
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  14. Alannah - Morgantown Clinic - Jake and Andy

    Anna had stood quietly as she heard what Claiborne had to say. 'Why do all people from the south give weird, yet insightful, speeches?' The young woman kept a straight face as she let the man finish and she nodded, acknowledging his words. "I'll go. These people might have injured children. That's really all I care about." Anna shrugged nonchalantly as she said it, knowing it might sound a bit too unkind. In truth, she really disliked adults in the world they lived in now. There were so few of them left that were good that it was almost a miracle to come by them.

    Once they were outside of Claiborne's office, the two were greeted by Nathan, waiting patiently by the door. Alannah felt somewhat relieved at seeing him, knowing that Clay wouldn't have to go out there by himself. She never really included herself, knowing that she typically froze in times of panic. If things went south, Clay would need someone there that would have his back rather than would slow him down. As she waited for the two men, Anna noticed people rushing into the clinic. She peered out from behind Clay and nearly groaned out loud at the fact that she would have to probably stitch up someone's wound. "Um. I'm sorry to interrupt but I do not think I'll be going out there with you. I've got patients." Anna grimaced at the word but gave no further explanation. She gave the two men an apologetic smile, telling to please take care of each other, before jogging over to her office.

    "Is it an emergency?" Her voice echoed down the hall, listening closely for any sounds of agony or extreme pain. "Has someone been shot? Bit?" Anna slowed down as she entered the room and came to a halt as she saw the tall figure in front of her. "And to think my day was going to be boring." The young woman gave the two a small smile before looking at the young boy that was being carried. "Oh.. What happened sweetie. Let me see." Without flinching or making a disgusted face, although she did hate working with anything pertaining to the mouth or the eyes, Anna nodded and showed Jake where to set the boy down. "Now, I do want you to know....." She began as she walked into her sectioned off room inside of the clinic, "I've only taken one or two teeth out. Braces are a new for me... but I had a great teacher. Old misses Maggie was a dentist and told me as much as she could." She was now speaking loudly so the other two could hear her, which meant her Spanish accent was much more pronounced than usual. Something Anna disliked with a passion.

    After gathering the few materials and tools she'd need, she stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her. "If you're tough, we'll be done in no time..... If you whine and move around too much, this is going to be bad for you and I both." Anna smiled at him and went to set her things down next to him. "I've got this great little ointment here. It'll help numb the gums so you won't feel too much pulling and tugging. I apologize in advance for anything though."

    Upon receiving consent of the two, Anna went to work, trying her hardest to be careful. 'I have no idea what I am doing... Oh my god what did Maggie say about these...' "So you guys want to tell me what happened?"

    @Klutzy Ninja Kitty


    Aubrey - Morgantown Plaza

    'We're just a giant target sign walking around like this' Aubrey thought as she watched everyone begin to move back where they had came from. She did't know what was going on but she knew it couldn't have been good if Hank and Floyd were now yelling out commands.

    With a quiet groan, Aubrey took out an arrow from her quiver and began to walk over to where the men had told them to go.

    No. Not told. Demanded.

    Maybe following the giant group after parting ways with Levi was the wrong move. She should have stayed with him. Now, she was stuck in the back near the kids, and if anything happened, she was sure that the blood of the kids would probably end up on her. At least some of it would.
    #14 Wolverbells, Aug 25, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 25, 2015
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  15. Katie -The Road - Scarlett, Tyler

    They had walked a long way. Katie's feet were tired and her chest hurt. It had never stoppes hurting where the bad man had broken her ribs.

    The 7 year old wasn't quite sure what had happened. Just that they had been taken by the bad men who had hurt her and her daddy, then everyone was running and screaming, then the bad man was dead and her daddy said they were leaving with Scarlett. Katie had been surorised and happy to see Floyd again, happy that the monsters hadn't eaten him up, but even a child as young as her could tell there were bad feelings in the group.

    There were a lot of people now. she had even met Scarlett's sister and Floyd's lady friend who had a baby. She was nice but whenever Katie memtioned her daddy they both looked weird, the lady looked sad and Floyd looked mad. She ddidn't understand and no one would explain it to her.

    But at least she was with her daddy again. No one was trying to keep them apart. But she hated how he seemed so sad. Was he happy they were together again? Had she been a bad girl when she had hurt that man? But she had only done it because he had been trying to take her daddy away.
    She reached over with her small hand and took his, staring at him worriedly.
    "I love you daddy," she said in a quiet voice.

    A few minutes later someone was shouting. New people? She tightened her hold on her father's hand, moving behind him. "Daddy who are they?" she asked, her lip trembling. "Are tey mean too?"
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  16. John Lennings - City of Natchez - Wal-Mart

    Broken glass. Doors open outward. Groans unheard inside. It might be ransacked, or it might not, could have food and water, might not. John's canteen had little water left, his CADPAT uniform was a dirtied, mixed with grime and sweat, the black boots crushing the glass under him as he removed the M9 from his holster, removing the black Oakley sunglasses before placing it in his pocket. The entire situation was dangerous enough, the lights inside dark. Everything was tossed over. Clothes were tossed onto the side, some blood was sprayed on the floor in different areas, rotten food was thrown all over the place, yet not a dead soul was in here. Not a body either. As he walked forward into darkness, he raised the pistol in a ready and tactical manner, just as they taught him during the days of the Afghan war. As he looked around the entrance, he walked forward, breathing deeply, anxiously, fearful. The entire place could be riddled with the Les Revenants. It's how they said it in French: The Returned. He made his way to the electronics department. He gave a light chuckle, licking his lips as he looked at the exhibit where the Iphone 6 was.

    He couldn't help but find it all too amusing, civilization crumbling down to nothing yet people were worried all about the fucking phones that no longer worked. He scoffed at the thought now, walking over to the food department as he breathed even rougher: He was anxious to get some food, and scared that there might not be any. And yet, much to his luck, some aisles had non-perishable foods, but water was not found, and what drinks there was, was either rotten milk or expired juices filled with moss (From no preservatives). He grabbed a few non-perishables from the aisle: Sweet peas, Ravioli, Spaghetti, Beef Jerky, and crackers. He smiled, and placed it in the small CADPAT assault pack that was given to him by his mother as a gift to the US. He placed it in there, smiled widely, then continued his search for at least some water.

    Hams in the deli smelled rancid, cheese had mold, and so he went to the sink as he turned the water on, seeing the water flow down caused a smile on his cheeks, and yet a frown appeared after a moment: What if the water filters did not work? What if it had E.Coli or some other bacteria. He thought about it for a moment, before drinking the small amount of clean water left in his canteen before taking the other amount of water from the sink. Luckily for him, he wasn't wearing his helmet or his combat gear, except for the black beret with the Canadian Army symbol, so it wouldn't hinder him (It was left back in Canada as to show a more friendlier appearance to Americans.) As he closed the cap and placed the canteen in its holder, sighing as he tied the assault pack tightly on him, before deciding to wash his hands.

    And that is when he heard it: A groan, a hiss, coming from his left. His face trembled in fear, turning his head as he placed low and displaced breaths before seeing it: One of the Revenants, dressed in deli clothing looking at where John was. Both had a hard stare on each other, both stayed in place as John then holstered his M9, taking out the Fairbanks - Skye combat dagger, breathing raggedly in spite of the fear: The Revenant tilted its head, the pale white eyes staring at John, analyzing. Waiting. Preparing. And soon it walked over, moving slowly, before picking up speed as John began walking back, yet hit one of the walls of the inside of the deli: He was trapped, atleast until he could kill it as it sped and sped faster before it was in arms reach as John quickly kicked it in the chest, falling back before John began running, fast, adrenaline pumping as he heard the Walker yell outloud to signal the others, but John was long gone.

    He only made it halfway toward the interstate before he fell down, his knee giving out, and so did the adrenaline as he yelled in a horrid pain, dropping the knife near him as he looked to anybody for help, yelled for help: "Someone! Aidez-Moi! Help!"​
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  17. Stacey - Morgantown Plaza

    As she listened to Mel swear on the other end of the call, Stacey couldn't help but share her sentiments. A group of this size never passed through Natchez, and that thought alone was enough to give the girl pause. Even the largest groups she could think of had been about half this group's size. Even then, they'd just been heading South like the others. With a group this size, Stacey imagined some fucked up shit had gone on to force them to make such a move. Perhaps all the boats down on the coast were AWOL, or something. Speaking into the radio again, Stacey said, "I don't think they're hostile. Not yet, anyway." Considering how long it had taken her to notice them, Stacey damn well knew one of them could have popped her in the head if they really wanted to.

    Still that didn't mean they were nice.

    She was about to head back to the other side of the building to risk taking a glance when Claiborne's voice came over clearly on the radio. She was to stand down, it seemed. It was a relief to hear, but a part of Stacey felt weirdly disappointed. She felt kind of useless letting herself sit and do nothing about this. Hey, maybe she could have gotten a negotiation going...?

    "Pfft!" Stacey scoffed to herself. Yeah, right, she was likely to just get herself shot more than anything. Deciding it was best to stay out of sight, Stacey dropped to the ground and pulled her gun close to her. She heard Nathan come over on the radio next, telling her to be careful. Thankfully for them, Stacey wasn't one to risk her neck, even if something interesting was finally happening in Natchez.


    Tyler - Morgantown Plaza Road

    Hearing Scarlett speak to him, even if only just two simple words, lifted Tyler's mood slightly. Now was hardly the time to wax poetically about their relationship inside his head, but it made him feel more relaxed slightky, at least. He needed to get her talking again. Somehow.

    "I don't know, sweetie," Tyler muttered, looking down at Katie for a moment. More than likely, they were bad people, but who could say for sure, exactly.

    Tyler watched as Abram didn't react to what Scarlett had said, and neither did he pay much attention to what Hank or Floyd were doing. Their suggestions to go might as well have not existed to the stone wall that was the soldier. His unblinking gaze was staring up at that roof, probably ready to pull the trigger if the unknown assailant even so much as lifted their gun. When Floyd placed a hand on Abram's shoulder, Tyler knew he'd feel Abram's muscle as rigid as concrete.

    When he finally conceded, the man muttered something about nowhere being safe before falling in with the others as they made their turnaround. Jon and the Haywood militia assisted him in covering the group as they hurried back down Highway 86, hopefully far away from any potential threats. Hank and Floyd quickly took the lead, seeming to fall naturally into the role. Floyd was hardly Tyler's favorite person, but he himself had no interest in leading anything at this point. He'd settle for even Jon leading them if he had to. Thing was, Abram and Jon didn't mind them taking charge either, or at least Jon didn't let it show. Both men had the respect of a number of people within the group, and the majority of them somehow managed this fragile grouping built on suffering and loss. There were many reasons why it shouldn't have worked, but somehow it all held together.

    At least for now. These days, nothing ever held together forever.

    It wasn't long before a truck was incoming from the opposite direction, prompting a panicked reaction from the group. Most everyone stopped in their tracks, and Tyler could hear swear coming from Jon's direction. Becca, KK, Caleb, and the children all pushed together around Tyler and the others. Scarlett and Sam were well liked by the kids, and despite KK having cared for them back in Baton Rouge, they loved being around the twin sisters. As the truck came to a stop, Adam, eager as ever, moved ahead of Hank and Floyd, pointing his gun straight at the man exiting the vehicle.

    "Adam, come on," Jace snapped, causing Adam to pause. The boy seemed to be sweating profusely, which brought a frown to Tyler's face. He didn't much like the idea of Adam having a gun in this situation. The kid had been on edge ever since they left Baton Rouge, and it was pretty clear to Tyler, Scarlett, and George why that was. Adam had managed many opportunities to go off alone along the journey. It hadn't gone unnoticed, and neither had the fact that he hadn't gone off along much as of late. Whatever he'd taken with him from the apartment must have recently run out, and that could have meant disaster in this situation.

    "He's unarmed," Caleb said, speaking up as well. He seemed to be thinking something similar to what Tyler had been musing about. He had to have noticed something was up with his friend, hadn't he? "So let's not scare him, okay? Look, we're just passing back through, so we didn't mean to stop you." His Southern accent gave his voice a comforting tone as he spoke to the man holding his hands in the air. "Isn't that right, Hank?"
    #17 Atomyk, Aug 25, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 26, 2015
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  18. Jake and Andy - Natchez, Morgantown Clinic - Alannah

    Once Andy realized that the two of them had made it inside the clinic, he paled. The new world ruled by living dead was a harsh one and the boy had certainly become desensitized to blood, gore, injuries, and medical issues, however, when it came to anything pertaining to himself, he would shudder at the thought. Andy hated seeing his own blood, despised needles, and loathed any sort of medial treatment he had to endure--even before the world had turned into Hell.

    Jake frowned seeing his nephew looking so horrified, shaking his head. He pitted the boy. The end of the world was certainly no time to decide getting braces was a good choice. It was a shame Andy's parents didn't know that orthodontists were about to be in short supply.

    Straightening his back, Jake nodded in reply to the brown-haired woman. "Well, it's an emergency, but not a huge emergency. My nephew was crying out in pain and holding his mouth. I know the problem is his braces. They've been on for too long without an orthodontist to look at them--not to mention they haven't been cleaned properly for a long time. I'm worried about him getting an infection. It's high time they came out," he said, setting Andy down where Alannah showed him to. "Are you ready to stop resisting?" he asked the kid.

    Sulking, the boy folded his arms and shot a wishful glance toward the door Alannah had just closed. If he had a chance, he most certainly would've bolted out of the room. "If I say no?"

    "If you say no, I'm going to hold you down while she takes those braces off by force. So just sit there and stay still," Jake pleaded, frowning. "This really is for your own good."

    Sighing, Andy anxiously glanced at Alannah. "I'm not a little kid; you don't have to lie to me. This is going to hurt whether I whine or not, isn't it?" he asked, squeezing his eyes closed.

    Jake placed a hand on Andy's head, mussing his light brown hair affectionately. "Just quiet down and open your mouth for her, okay?"

    Scowling, Andy shoved Jake's hand off his head. "Whatever," he said, hesitantly opening his mouth.

    When Alannah began going to work, Jake bit his lip. "So what happened? Uh, well, this was it, really," Jake admitted with a shrug. "He was crying out in pain with his mouth, so I brought him here. I suppose my running in here and making a big scene wasn't really necessary," he sheepishly admitted. "Sorry if I made you think something major was going on." Jake felt he had every right to worry. These days, one little cut could turn into an infection leading to death. The world seemed so much more dangerous than it used to be...

    #18 Klutzy Ninja Kitty, Aug 25, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 26, 2015
  19. Hank and Floyd - Morgantown Plaza - Tyler and Group

    He didn't have a weapon, he was no longer preserved by the metal of his vehicle - the driver before them stood open and with hands to the sky. In his eyes, this was a truce, a way to show he was trustworthy and not a danger to anyone. But his eyes failed to realize who was watching him. The initial sound of an approaching vehicle had made Hank reach for his weapon. Upon it's appearance, he drew it and immediately pointed it forward - even before Abram's men drew their own arms.

    Hank didn't care what the man looked like, he didn't care if he seemed friendly, or acted with courtesy. Hank already had it all planned out and despite Tyler's question, he was going to proceed with the strategy. The mission at hand was to protect the rest of the group, especially the children. Who knew what this man was capable of.

    "Yeah, we're just passing through," Hank agreed, but started to move towards the individual at a fast pace with his weapon pointed directly at the man's head. He drew closer as did Floyd - his weapon also aimed at the person unknown. They were hostile now, but taking precaution to provide survival for the others.

    "Step away from the truck," Hank ordered the gentleman as he continued to close down on him. He looked at him with this demonic glare in his eyes - same as the one he possessed in the battle of Baton Rogue. Floyd moved around the truck to end up behind the guy, near the truck bed. Hank looked at Floyd for approval - Floyd's head nod revealing the man before them was truly unarmed.

    "Floyd!" Hank called out to him, giving command for attack. Swiftly, but with force, Floyd rushed towards the guy and apprehended him by the arms, forcing him to move away from the vehicle. The hunter huffed and grunted as he moved the man out of the way and kept him at gunpoint.

    "You move, you'll regret it," he said simply, his rough voice casting fear over his adversary.

    Hank turned around and completely ignored Tyler's possible reaction. He was not looking for anyone to go against his decision because it had been the right one - and like it or not, they all knew it was true. It was obvious this guy might have been with the people pointing their weapons at them from atop the building. Even if they asked, what were the odds he'd answer truthfully.

    "You! Scarlett right? Load the children into the truck, drive back to the previous intersection and wait for the rest of us there. Abram, go with her, I need you there too. Everybody else will move on foot. Let's start loading up, we don't want to give them the chance to catch up with us. We need to regroup and evaluate our choice."

    "Hey! He's got food back here! He's got water too!" a random group member called out, searching through the man's truck. It was brought forward he had supplies in the back, enough to last quite a while.

    Hank passed by Floyd making sure he had the guy on lock - which he did. Then he moved on to see the supplies for himself. Stolen maybe? Was his first thought, but it honestly didn't matter. Things were moving really fast at this point and they needed to get out of where they stood - especially since now they discovered they had possible enemies on both sides of the spectrum.

    "Hank, what are we doin' with em?" Floyd asked in regards to the man at gunpoint. A silence sprouted from Hank, unclear of which option to go with. He could kill him now and put an end to it - no questions asked. But by applying that decision, everyone would think him a bloodthirsty lunatic. He could also tie him up and leave him be. That way he can't follow and the plaza gunners would eventually come to his aid if he were truly with them. If he wasn't though, he'd most likely get attacked by walkers and torn to pieces - also leading to death. Then there was the option to take him along, use him as blackmail against the roof gunners. Maybe get intel from him in regards to his friends.

    ".......Leave em," he finally answered. Realizing there was really no point in taking any kind of action against him. The final decision was made, if anyone had anything to object too, they could - but it'd be pointless. If they wanted to survive, they had to man and woman up. Hank just didn't think these people had it in them and was waiting on someone to speak against his call. There was always someone who thought was smarter or stronger. At this point, Hank turned to Tyler - having a feeling he'd be the one to speak against him.


    Claiborne Bonder - Morgantown Plaza - Nathan Davidson

    Already in route to one of their community vehicles, Clay decided to speak to Nathan about his relationship with Alannah. It wasn't relevant to the situation at hand nor would there really be any in depth discussion, he just wanted to see how they were doing. To him, Alannah was like a daughter or younger sister. They were close and even Nathan knew this. But this question wasn't going to exactly be prioritizing them.

    "How are things with Alannah?" he started as he placed the key in the ignition, turning it to start the engine. The wheel's started moving once Claiborne pushed on the acceleration. Community people opened the gates to allow the vehicle to move out of the school district and start driving towards the plaza.

    Claiborne listened as they rode, but suddenly placed his right hand on the Nathan's shoulder.

    "We're survivors. Not romantics or whatever. I just wanna make sure you got your head in the right place, not in some silly putty love triangle," he stated, not looking at him, but keeping his eyes on the road ahead. They were reaching the plaza by this time and their conversation would have to be cut short. Claiborne stopped the vehicle and parked it behind the building Stacey was supposedly at. He picked up the portable radio and started to speak.

    "Stacey, we're here darlin'. Feel free to come down now," he said, making sure she was safe before he moved forward. The idea was to walk through the back of the building and end up exiting through the front to make contact with the large group. That way, if things went south, they could retreat through the building in cover and exit by vehicle. Claiborne pulled out a cigar from his sweater and lit it before placing it between his lips. He fixed his hat because it had shifted a little left.

    "We walk straight through there and head to the front. From there we speak to this group and settle things here. No need for trouble," Claiborne simply stated. The plan was easy and wold most likely work in the best case scenario. Worst case scenario, they'd get fired at, but retreat in time to prepare a plan of defense.

    "Sorry, sumthin' amuse you?" he asked Nathan, thinking he saw him smirk and cackle at his plan. But he was obviously wrong, because he wouldn't do that to Claiborne. The man was actually very very serious when it came to these kinds of things. He didn't play when lives were in their hands. A lot of times his seriousness would scare people - especially at times like these.
  20. Becky Callaghan ~ Natchez, Morgantown ~ Lia

    It was true, though Becky liked to think her talking wasn't quite as painful.

    She gave an eager grin and nodded nevertheless, completely oblivious to Lia's discomfort in regards to bringing her along; as far as Becky was concerned, the shaky acceptance may as well have been an invitation delivered with open arms. The mention of danger didn't deter her-- on the contrary, when the other survivor mentioned the possible need for a weapon, her response was to purse her lips and lightly curve them upwards in a sly smirk. Without missing a beat, she reached into her jacket pocket and fished around for a moment, producing her weapon of choice shortly thereafter: a slender, lengthy piece of plastic, with a variety of blades and tools neatly folded within.

    "MSC commercial utility knife. Pink."

    The trusty device had gotten her outta plenty tight spots in the past, and she expected today to be no different. If it even came to that. Once she was finished showing off, she slipped the knife back into her pocket and fell into place at Lia's side proper, prepared to follow her, tape recorder back in hand and button lightly depressed to begin the recording process. Sure, Lia asked her not to talk too much, but she probably meant to her in particular. Her audio logs didn't count, they were too important. Right?

    "Entry ten-dash-fourteen. Commencing case fifty-three: the Reunited Renegade. Becky Callaghan, girl detective, and her faithful sidekick-- who, I've noticed, still hasn't quite managed to shake her habit of talking to herself just yet. See file forty: the Lia Liaison for further detail-- are en-route to visit Renegade, Lia's faithful canine companion, for a routine check-in. Renegade, who is extremely cute, is an Alsatian, a breed popular for their strength and intelligence. Interestingly, the Alsatian, more commonly known as the German Shepherd, was bred circa 1899 by one Max von Stephanitz, an ex-cavalry captain who took an interest in the potential of dogs as manual labor workers. Early progenitors were inbred to preserve the species' genetic traits, which has contributed to a number of defects in the modern breed's physiology, though Renegade seems to be exempt from most of these (with the added benefit of being gosh darn adorable), and serves as an example of the breed's finest, a good thing when you consider Renegade may well be the last pure German Shepherd on earth."

    She trailed off, briefly scrunching up her nose in thought as she said that last part aloud. Those were the sorts of things you never really thought about after civilization collapsed; what happened to the dogs? Were they adapting? Had they learned their own methods of survival, of avoiding the bitey critters that roamed the United States like a plague, or were they easy pickings for the hordes of undead? She could see maybe wolfhounds and pitbulls and dalmatians having enough natural moxie and instinct to survive, but what about all the poor little pugs and chihuahuas and corgis of the world? And what about the dogs who were too old or sick to escape? And what about the puppies? Oh no...

    "...Note to self. Save and adopt any puppy, sick or geriatric dogs I come across from The Rot."

    Everyone had their own name for it. The disease, the outbreak, the pandemic, the piece-of-shit virus that killed the world... in Becky's case, she simply called it "The Rot". It had a nice ring to it, she thought, and it was short and sweet; plus, it was vague enough to work without mislabeling it due to ignorance. What if everyone took to calling it a virus, and it turned out to be a bacteria?! That would've been obscenely embarrassing.

    Having poured as much pertinent information as she could think of into her recorder for the time being, she hit the pause button and replaced it in her back pocket, following after Lia and humming quietly for a few moments before she spoke up to the other girl directly. Apparently, it didn't take her long to forget all about the whole "no talking" thing.

    "Say, if you're worryin' about firepower we could always recruit John or Sam for our little shindig? Last I heard, they were both out on supply runs. Should be back soon."

    John, at least, had a rifle he was good with, and Sam... well, he didn't need one. Either would've been handy to have around in case they ran into a horde or something.

    @Klutzy Ninja Kitty
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