- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Afternoons, evenings and nights.
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Genres
- Historical, fantasy, magic, horror, supernatural, survival, vampires, demons, pirates, mutants, ghosts, romance (FxF, MxM, MxF) (Romance should be part of the plot and not the whole plot in itself), etc.
Finally he could get in somewhere safe and relax a bit. If no undead people were sleeping in the back that was. Though considering how much he had pounded on that thing, it would probably have awoken them if any were there. It wasn't that easy to stay quiet when aggressively beating the shit out of a rotting corpse.
"Thanks." He chuckled as he closed the door behind himself. "You okay?" He asked. Of course she wasn't, anyone could see that. The question was, how not okay she was. She didn't respond. That was definitely very low on the not okay scale. "Hey, can you hear me?" He asked, slightly worried. Damn it, he had just found another living being, was she really going to die?
He could try to attend to her wounds, but he didn't really have anything to wrap around her except for his own sweaty, bloody, dirty shirt. On top of that, she was so drenched in blood that it was impossible to even find the wounds if you didn't know what you were looking for. Had she been shot? Bitten? Cut? "Okay... First off... Water. Water should help." He mumbled, getting the water bottle out of his bag, just to be reminded that it was empty. All of them were empty.
Rushing towards the kitchen section, he tried to get some tap water, but of course it wasn't working. If it was a fault in the whole building or just that section was impossible to know without testing the other sections. "Shit." He hit the sink, unnecessarily causing himself pain.
There was nothing he could do with his limited knowledge. He was a translator of fictional books, that wasn't a skill that helped anyone in their every day life, or during the apocalypse. All he could do for now was debate with himself if it was worth going out there to find help, or if he should sit tight in safety hoping for someone to come before she died... Or turned.
"Thanks." He chuckled as he closed the door behind himself. "You okay?" He asked. Of course she wasn't, anyone could see that. The question was, how not okay she was. She didn't respond. That was definitely very low on the not okay scale. "Hey, can you hear me?" He asked, slightly worried. Damn it, he had just found another living being, was she really going to die?
He could try to attend to her wounds, but he didn't really have anything to wrap around her except for his own sweaty, bloody, dirty shirt. On top of that, she was so drenched in blood that it was impossible to even find the wounds if you didn't know what you were looking for. Had she been shot? Bitten? Cut? "Okay... First off... Water. Water should help." He mumbled, getting the water bottle out of his bag, just to be reminded that it was empty. All of them were empty.
Rushing towards the kitchen section, he tried to get some tap water, but of course it wasn't working. If it was a fault in the whole building or just that section was impossible to know without testing the other sections. "Shit." He hit the sink, unnecessarily causing himself pain.
There was nothing he could do with his limited knowledge. He was a translator of fictional books, that wasn't a skill that helped anyone in their every day life, or during the apocalypse. All he could do for now was debate with himself if it was worth going out there to find help, or if he should sit tight in safety hoping for someone to come before she died... Or turned.