OPEN SIGNUPS Zombies!? The Roleplay!

DuracellDuality

Edgebabby
Original poster
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A Few Posts a Week, Slow As Molasses
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Give-No-Fucks, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Douche, Adaptable
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No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm a little of both, it depends on the mood.
Favorite Genres
Any.
Genre You DON'T Like
None.
There were very few things in life Hector remembers -- he'd been diagnosed with early onset Huntington's Disease (that was a fun Mom and Pop's funeral), you see -- and the world going to hell is one of them. What little nationwide coverage there had been of the outbreak before news altogether died had dubbed those who could remember as the Rememberers. Not a very creative name, granted, but there's no room for catchiness when a hoard of zombies shuffle outside on the streets and nobody can remember how the hell it happened in the first place. But Hector did -- they all did. He had no interest in keeping in touch with them once they met at the center of the city, bloodied and worn down to stench-ridden rags, but they had other plans it seemed. Guess they felt like they had to care for the poor elderly guy who looked like he'd die out any minute. No harm in that, he supposes, but he could fend for himself. He didn't make it weeks into this apocalypse by relying on some young ones. Come to think of it, he's not quite sure how he made it this long. Ain't that a bitch. Hector G. Trelawney can remember how the world died down to the last detail, but anything else is a blur -- a misty haze of red.

He wishes he had those young one's company still, truthfully. He can admit that to himself, right? Nobody's around to say otherwise. He's spent so long out here, he'd mistaken a few too many zombies as old compatriots of his. One of them looked like a lost love, Jenny Brown, from down the road. Chestnut eyes is what he called her, though he can't remember if she liked that or not. Or if her eyes were even remotely a chestnut color. The skyscrapers loom like menacing guardians, watching his every move, reflecting that pulsing red light off in the distance. He can remember how the world ended . . . but that light was a damned mystery. Every time it stopped pulsing -- for an hour, each time -- the zombies, stopped too. When it started up again, so did they. He's no spry young man anymore, but he was determined as all hell to find out what the hell that light was, and what it had to do with the horde. Maybe nothing, maybe everything. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. He's been heading toward that light for what seems like days now, with no sign of getting closer to it. Something about it . . .

TIME UNTIL NEXT WORLD EVENT 'MYSTERIOUS STRANGER': 18 HOURS, 35 MINUTES

(this is just an introduction post! depending on how the plot progresses in the following replies, hector may or may not meet up with your characters, but from here on out, you guys can do what you want with your characters! please be sure to recall the Relative Real Time System or whatever the heck I called it outlined in the main topic! Every few posts, I'll make a post playing the zombies if need be, or other random NPCs separate from Hector. I do ask the name of the city is kept ambiguous, but you can feel free to write out street names or business names or anything like that! have fun and beware ... the mysterious stranger is not benevolent. and how does he relate to hector? all will be revealed when i figure out these answers myself!)
 

Dakota K5

Disgruntled Mountain man
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays
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Several Posts a Day
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I am online from 5:00 Am to around 10:30 AM Fridays through Tuesdays due to work so post will be in between those times.
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Give-No-Fucks, Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
both
Favorite Genres
I'm up for anything
Genre You DON'T Like
Meh none really.
Otto White
----

Reports of illness, that and the hunting trip were the last things Otto remembered clearly. He had ignored what he heard about said illness and headed out on his annual hunting excursion and then...a haze, time had passed that was obvious but at to why he couldn't remember it Otto really couldn't put an answer to, not that it got much thought after the first shambling corpse had attacked him. Muscle memory and a bit of luck kept him from getting bit by the creature, letting him throw it to it's belly before a heavy strike from the blade he took on the trip to the thing's head did it in. After that he didn't really pay mind to why he couldn't remember what was or had happened, he decided he needed to get the the nearest city and that's where he headed, with his rifle, pistol, knife and what supplies he had from his hunting trip and began to walk.

When he got to seeing the actual city he noticed a...red light? It was blinking at random intervals and again Otto paid no mind to it until it stopped and then the infected stopped which made Otto take notice. Nothing made the infected move save for physically interacting with them, he found a spot where he could hunker down and hide while he watched a small group of infected, he took note that as soon as the light started to blink again they began to move and eventually wander off to another area. He watched and took note of the light being inside the city somewhere and made his move to enter the city and try and find something or someone that knew what was happening.
 

Mystical Fox

Shy fox fanatic
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Speed of Light, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
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Adept, Advanced
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Male, Female
Aroura Kensington


When the reports of an illness came out Aroura thought nothing of it. She didn't have it so why would she worry. That was until she heard screams, after that everything a black blur. She remembers little of what happened, but what she does remember haunts her dreams. The one memory she has of the day everything went bad was a dark on indeed. Blood had covered the floor and two bodies sat leaning against a wall, her mother and little sister. Blood covered both of them, staining there blonde hair and coating there pale faces. Lifeless. They would move. Aroura remembers the tears that trailed down her face and the taste of blood in her mouth, metallic. Then everything's black after that. A blur until she woke up in the same house as her memory, confused and afraid. The bodies she remembered were gone now and as she had explored Aroura found two graves in the back of the house. Tears fell form her face again before she said her goodbyes and left. Never looking back.

As the memory faded Aroura looked around her, noting every little detail. She was at the outskirts of a city, a blinking red light flashed over the city from a tall, looming building in the distance. While it flashed the zombies would become active, moving and feeding, but when it stopped was interesting. The zombies would stop. Just stop. It was odd but as the light would flash again they moved. Aroura found this odd. Is there someone controlling this light? Was there something special about it? Questions like these lingered in the back of her mind as she stared at the light.

Looking out over the city Aroura moved with slow careful steps toward it, the light still flashing, and as she made it to the edge she waited until the flashing stopped. As she waited Aroura checked her pack, making sure everything was still in it's place before strapping it on. Pulling her blonde hair into a high pony tail Aroura stared at the light for a few minutes waiting for it to stop. When it finally did she moved. With careful quick steps Aroura moved from one alley to the next, sticking to the shadows. It wasn't long before Aroura ducked into a small shop and watched the flashing start up again. A slight sigh slipped through her lips as she stared at the light again, waiting for it to stop.
 

Zarko Straadi

Edgenoble
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays,
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both
Favorite Genres
Sci-fi, fantasy, magical, modern, Steampunk
Genre You DON'T Like
Furry
Briar Rose:

"Well, obviously it's fake news. Zombies, really? I bet it's something the Democrats and their friends in the Deep State are making up to try and make Trump look bad."

"Wow, you'll just buy anything they put on Fox News. Oh sure, the videos on YouTube have to be fake, but they're obviously being put up by Russian troll accounts so Trump can have an excuse to shut down the investigations. But if there are zombies, I'm sure he can tweet them to death."

Natalee and Terrance, children of Senators, one from each party. They simply loved to argue about politics. When they weren't snogging each other, that is. Briar Rose hugged the corridor wall, hoping to slip past them unnoticed. Just a few more steps, and she'd be able to interpose a slender, fluted granite column between them and her--

"Oh look, it's the little Chadbury girl," Terrence said with a sneer in his voice. "I bet you believe the zombies are actually real. Do they give you nightmares?" he said, his words dripping with fake pity. Natalee giggled. Briar rose tried to ignore him and scurry past; with a little luck, their vociferous argument would return and they'd lose interest. "Where are you going? Better not be alone, the zombies'll get you!" he said, sidestepping to put himself in her path.

"Well, do you?" Natalee said, stepping into position beside him. Both teenagers towered over her.

"'Belief' is epistemically problematic..." Briar rose muttered. Terrance scoffed, and Natalee rolled her eyes.

"Is that supposed to sound smart? You're only babbling 'cause you do believe in them, don't you?" Natalee said.

I'm seven years younger than you, and I get better grades, Briar Rose thought, but she didn't dare utter the words. She scrambled for something to say that would get them to leave her alone. Her mental gears seemed to freeze up; instead of 'sounding smart,' her brain produced an output she immediately regretted: "Jamie Peterson, Miriam Rosenberg and Thomas Carroll."

"What?" Natalee said.

"The kids who left yesterday? What do they have to do with anything?" Terrance said. Briar Rose ground her teeth. Now she would have to explain.

"Jamie's mother works for the NSA. Miriam's father is a Google executive, and Thomas' father is a general in the Marine Corps." As much as Briar Rose tried to have nothing to do with the pervasive status competition that filled the school like the ocean filled the Marianas Trench, there was really no avoiding it, including the bragging contests to determine just whose parents were the most important.

"So?" the two teenagers said in unison.

"So...their parents would be among the first to know if there was a national crisis..."

"I knew it! You do believe in zombies!" Natalee said. She and Terrence shared a laugh. "Omigod, what a moron!" Briar Rose shook her head. "Oh come on, you can't deny it now!"

"Locate the hypothesis...doesn't have to be zombies...lots of people can get their hands on CRISPR technology...make a weaponized rabies virus...or maybe somebody was trying to develop medical nanotechnology, but it went wrong and now it got loose. Or if the videos are fake, it could be a really powerful new version of Deepfake, and it's spreading online. What if it's so good nobody can trust anything in a video anymore? If they can make 'zombies,' they can make any politician say anything they want, and who'd know what's real? There's...probably lots of ways the videos could be the start of a real crisis without it being...the Walking Dead," Briar Rose stammered.

The cruel smiles on the teens' faces faltered, and they glanced nervously at each other.

---

As the days passed, more students were pulled from the school, first a trickle, then a flood. 'Zombie' videos continued to multiply, until the wall of media denial crumbled. It was replaced by confident pronouncements from the President, generals, and politicians. Everything was under control; the outbreak was contained, a cure would be found soon. That didn't last long either. Whole swaths of the country were going dark, the global economy came unraveled, and countless millions of refugees were on the move.

Ironically, the looming Apocalypse was almost a relief to Briar Rose. The student body had all but evaporated, save for a handful of stragglers. It was much easier now, to get from class to class without being ridiculed, tripped from behind, or shoved upside-down into a garbage can. Except that teachers and staff were starting to melt away too. Still, Briar Rose could fantasize that maybe everyone would leave, and the school could become her castle. It was a sturdy Gothic edifice, with an enormous library, science labs, and an Industrial Design workshop equipped with the latest computer-controlled machine tools. What better place to begin to rebuild civilization?

"Briar Rose, you still haven't heard from your parents?" The student counselor's voice pulled her from her thoughts. Without looking up to meet the woman's eyes, Briar Rose shook her head. "Don't worry, I'm sure they're fine..." Briar Rose shrugged.

"Father built a survival bunker in New Zealand," she said softly. "In case things went bad with climate change or economic collapse. He's probably there by now." And if her mother wanted to go there with him, she'd have had to keep her mouth shut about her illegitimate daughter. "I can stay here, can't I?"

"Well...we're going to have to close the school. The military has set up a Regional Safe Zone in Springfield, and they're organizing a convoy--"

Screams.

"Wait here." The Counselor grabbed a baseball bat and cautiously stepped out. Before she could close the door behind her, she was back in the office, slamming the door shut and fumbling to lock the door with shaking fingers. There was a loud crash as something--several somethings--slammed into the door. Briar Rose let out a yelp of fear as she jumped out of her seat. Her head snapped left and right, looking for anything that could help--a weapon, a way out. Hands smashed through the glass that took up most of the top half of the door, flailing at the Counselor as she flinched back to avoid their reach.

No exits--the fireplace! Briar Rose ran to it, grabbed the heavy rack inside, leaned back and heaved to drag it out. A quick eyeball-estimate said the rack could be used to block the opening if it was rotated ninety degrees, then pulled up so its uppermost rails could catch on the sloping sides of the fireplace's arch. She grabbed one end and dragged it into position, checking the fireplace interior. Enough space inside--

Briar Rose turned her attention to the Counselor, who was swinging wildly at the grasping hands. The door jamb was already pulling loose as the mass of flesh outside pressed against the door. "Ma'am!" Briar Rose called out, clambering into the fireplace. On impulse, she reached out and grabbed the antique poker that waited in an ornate brass stand with a matching broom and ash shovel. The Counselor looked her way, and she waved her over. But before she could move, a hand seized her bat and yanked her toward the door. Another hand caught her wrist, and Briar Rose could only watch in helpless terror as the Counselor was dragged screaming into the snapping teeth of many mouths. Then there was a loud crack, and the door gave way.

Briar Rose let out a high-pitched shriek. She almost shrank back into the fireplace, but some last element of rationality remembered her plan. She dropped the poker beside her, then put her feet on the end of the log rack, leaned forward and seized one of the further rungs, then pulled back with all her might like a rower, raising the rack into place just as the mass of creatures slammed into it. With another squeal, she scrambled backwards into the fireplace until her back hit rough-cut granite blocks. She snatched up the poker and tried to swing it against the reaching grasping hands, but it clanged against walls and the narrow tunnel of the chimney.

Screaming with equal parts fear and desperate fury, she stabbed at them with the point. It thudded against flesh, but if her enemies felt any pain, there was no sign of it. Another thrust glanced off a skull, then a hand caught her forearm. Briar Rose screamed again and stabbed with the poker. By pure dumb luck, its point sank through a bloodshot, dilated eyeball and into the braincase with a sickening squish-crack. The hand that held her lost its grip as it went into wild convulsions. Briar Rose squeezed herself all the way into the back of the fireplace, making herself as small as possible and pulled her poker back, barely keeping it out of the reach of snatching, clawing hands.

The press of bodies held the wrought-iron rack in place, and the creatures didn't seem smart enough to pull back and toss the rack aside so they could get at her. Even so, their snarling-writhing-gnashing assault rattled the rack, shoving it slightly side to side with the creatures' random Brownian motion. It was only a matter of time before they slid it too far one way or the other and a corner scraped its way past the arch and dipped inward, giving one or more of the creatures the few extra inches it would need to reach her.

Briar Rose looked up, and a wave of despair crashed over her. There was only darkness. They bricked over the chimney? she thought. Her hands reached up and touched...cast iron? Fingertips brushed across her skirt, and she let out a strangled squeak. She pressed herself as far back as she could, while her fingers groped at the iron barrier. Groans of hunger, and scrapes and creaks of metal against stone echoed in the cramped firebox chamber that sheltered her. Then...a fragment of memory: The flue...damper thing... She didn't remember what it was for exactly, only that it could be opened and closed. She pushed against the cold iron, growing increasingly desperate and determined with each second that passed.

Creak.

A thin line of pale light. She pushed harder, groaning with effort. Reluctantly, the damper opened a little more, and a little more. Another, longer scraping sound from the log rack. A rattle-click as its corner crossed one of the fluted ribs of the fireplace arch. Above her, the damper would move no further. A narrow opening...could she fit through? Briar Rose snaked an arm past the damper and groped into the darkness above, in search of anything she could grab onto. There's a shelf! The rear wall of the fireplace leaned forward, making her efforts to keep herself out of reach standing awkward, but above the damper, the brickwork was flat; a small ledge that, just maybe, she could sit or stand on, if she could only squeeze up past the damper.

Rattle-clink. The corner of the log rack and slipped past another fluted rib. A flash-image of the fireplace in her mind: each rib was slightly recessed from the one before it, so that once the rack passed one, the pressure of bodies against it would keep it from going back; a ratchet. How many ribs were there? Three? Four? Briar Rose couldn't remember. Turning to face the sloping back wall, she wrestled her forearms above the damper and tried to jump and pull herself up.

Her left foot was seized in a vice-like grip. She kicked and pulled--and her Mary Jane slipped off, snatched away by the ghoul. Breaths coming fast and sharp, she struggled to pull herself up, hissing with terror each time a button snagged on the rough stone. Then she was through, squirming onto the narrow shelf, turning around to sit so she could pull her legs up and out of reach, just as another rattle announced the fall of the log rack. Fleshy slaps and fingernail scrapes against stone. Hisses of putrid breath and the clacks of snapping teeth. But for the creatures below, there was no prey to be found. It was as if their cornered morsel had vanished by magic. Curled up with her knees to her chest, Briar Rose was at last safe enough to close her eyes against the gray semi-darkness and sob silently.

---

It wasn't too long before the creatures peeled off one by one to go in search of better pickings. She waited, and waited, to make sure none of them yet lurked. But if she squeezed back down into the firebox, what then? They'd still be prowling the halls, and who even knew how many there were? Above her, the pale light was now a square, the opening of the chimney; it might as well have been light-years away. Briar Rose didn't know how long she'd remained in her hiding place, only that the light had faded away to nothing. But what else could she do? Every now and then, she could hear a snarl, or a faint echo of shuffling footsteps. But I can't just stay here forever, she thought. So I'll either starve to death...or get eaten.

Rattatat. What was that? Rattatat. Snarl. Rattatat. Rattatat. More growls and snarls, moving toward the sounds. Suddenly, Briar Rose knew what it was: automatic weapons fire, in three-round bursts. Sometimes there were single shots too, maybe from pistols or a different kind of rifle. A deep boom. Shotgun? The Army's here! she thought. Another moment of careful listening to make sure there were no ghouls in the Counselor's office, and one more to try and determine if the Army was winning. They seemed to be, as the growls and shuffles were becoming less frequent.

Feeling a surge of hope for the first time since it all began, Briar Rose wriggled her way out of the chimney and back down into the firebox. She snatched up the poker and picked her way past the corpse of the creature she'd killed (and the pool of mostly-dried blood that haloed its head, which made her gorge rise). Spotting a glint of buckle in the faint light from an LED on the Counselor's office phone, Briar Rose found her lost shoe, slipped it back on, and picked her way out of the Counselor's office. It was dark now, and she didn't have a flashlight, so she snugged herself against the corridor wall and moved as quietly as she could.

Suddenly, light flickered past her from behind, then returned to transfix her in its glare. She whirled, holding her hands up. "Please don't shoot! I'm not one of them!"

"The hell?" a man's voice said. "One of the students?" Briar Rose could only see the bright light mounted on his rifle. She nodded. "Isn't this supposed to be a high school?"

"What are you doing, Clay?" A second light, also on her.

"It's a kid--"

"It's an extra mouth to feed. Chances are she's bitten already,"

"I'm not!" Briar Rose protested.

"And even if she's not, she's trouble waiting to happen. Shoot her."

"But--" Clay said. The other light shifted subtly: taking aim. Briar Rose squealed, lunging out of the flashlight's beam as a three-round burst tore through the air where she'd been. She ran as fast as she could, then ducked behind a column, which took the next three shots.

"Fuck!" the other voice said. Briar Rose ran on, looking over her shoulder and zig-zagging to keep herself in the column's shadow; if the light couldn't reach her, their bullets couldn't either. Then they were fanning out. She glanced back forward--a gleam of eyeshine loomed out of the dark, headed straight for her. Clenching her teeth to stifle a scream, she ducked under slashing arms, then dove between legs in faded, blood-spattered denim, sliding under the ghoul's reach. Bullet holes stitched across its chest and torso, but it staggered onward, forgetting her in favor of brighter, noisier prey. Briar Rose rolled sideways to get out of the line of fire, then scrambled to her feet and dashed around a corner. Another three-round burst, a crack-splat of shattering skull, then a meaty thump; the ghoul's corpse hitting marble tiles.

Briar Rose stopped just long enough to pull off her shoes and carry them in her free hand, so she could run silently in her sock feet. The floors were slick, but without the sound of her footfalls to guide them, the men quickly lost her in the dark. Whoever they are, they're not the Army! There were more of them, and she thought she heard them talking to each other on radios. But she knew this school, and they didn't. She'd had months to learn all the hiding places and most inconspicuous ways to get from place to place. Furthermore, she'd stashed her bike and backpack out of sight in the topiary garden, just in case she needed to make an escape.

---

TIME UNTIL NEXT WORLD EVENT 'MYSTERIOUS STRANGER': 18 HOURS, 35 MINUTES

Keeping a close eye on her pocket watch, Briar Rose grabbed cans of vegetables, then one can of chicken and one of shredded beef, shoving them all into a cloth grocery bag. Finally, a package of soft flour tortillas; they wouldn't get mashed like a loaf of bread. Then, on impulse, she checked her watch again, and listened. A few minutes left, and no one near as far as she could tell. She grabbed another can, and used it to smash the glass on a locked case holding cigarettes. She snatched a couple packs, blue ones with a stylized picture of a Native American on them. These got crammed into a small space in her bag. Not that she smoked, or had any intention whatsoever of starting. But she'd seen a movie once, about guys in prison, and they used cigarettes as money. So maybe she could use them as trade goods, or a bribe to get herself out of a jam?

A brief stop-and-listen at the doorway of the grocery store, a check of her watch, and she slipped back out onto the sidewalk. She hurried to a pile of bagged trash, one of many that had started building up once the garbage trucks stopped coming around. The smell was utterly horrible of course, but it hid her scent from the small group of ghouls that were just now beginning to stir. She looked at her watch again, taking a moment to memorize the time. As soon as she was safe, she'd write it down in her notebook, in a list of start and stop times for the Light. Its blinking was random as far as she could tell, but what about its start and stop times? Was there a pattern? Were the stop times staying an hour in length, or getting longer or shorter? She already knew the zombies didn't need to actually see the Light to respond to it. They didn't stop moving if they went into a building or had one between them and the Light; being underground in the Metro didn't do the trick either.

There was no time for analyzing data now; the ghouls were on the move, heading past on the other side of the street. Once they were gone, Briar Rose could get back to her bike, stow her loot, and try to figure out what to do next: try to get a closer look at the Light, or get as far away from it as possible? Finally, they were gone. Stop. Listen, she thought, regretting each whiff of garbage-scented air she had to breathe. Not a sound except for the scudding of fallen leaves and forgotten papers along the ground, carried in the soft breeze. Relieved, she rose up from behind the bags and hurried down the sidewalk, her bike less than half a block away. But just as she was about to reach it, she saw him.

The rifle she spotted right away, then the gunbelt for a pistol. His rugged face was at the center of a lion's mane of hair and beard; he could have been a mountain man from an old Western, if not for his modern clothes. He took a smooth, silent step; he was good at it, which explained why she hadn't heard him coming. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, and she froze in her tracks. Briar Rose had little doubt that he could gun her down before she could take more than a few steps.
 
Last edited:

Dakota K5

Disgruntled Mountain man
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day
My Usual Online Time
I am online from 5:00 Am to around 10:30 AM Fridays through Tuesdays due to work so post will be in between those times.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
both
Favorite Genres
I'm up for anything
Genre You DON'T Like
Meh none really.
Otto White
Interaction: Briar Rose Zarko Straadi Zarko Straadi
----

Otto's incursion into the city was a slow methodical one, every step measured and every action weighted against the shambling undead around him. He had quickly come to the conclusion these things were zombies of a sort, enough Romero movies in his youth had helped with that identification. He had kept his rifle in his hands at this point as old habits learned in the military took hold and made him check and look at everything as he moved, any shadow could be concealing a infected threat but luckily these creatures seemed less intelligent then some small animals and with some patience and observation were easy enough to avoid though he had yet to encounter any group larger then ten and he wasn't to sure about how to deal with a horde just at this moment. A sound caught his attention, not like the infected had been making but rather the sound of something being disturbed and it was faint and would probably have been missed if this was a normal city in a normal situation but nothing but wind and infected provided a entirely different acoustic environment and it made Otto stop and look.

He saw a small girl, probably around ten or eleven years old and wearing what looked to be something like a school academy uniform and she looked quite disheveled, blonde hair also stood out to Otto. She had a pack, old school leather and canvas. Otto didn't yell out or anything like that, both to not spook the girl and not to attract any unwanted attention from the infected, she was heading to somewhere, it took a second but dawned on him that she was heading towards a bike which he assumed was her mode of transport. He made a move to start walking towards her when she spotted him, she stopped like a deer in headlights or more appropriately a rabbit that just saw a wolf. Otto slung his rifle onto his shoulder from his hands and held both of them open with his palms facing the girl to try and indicate he wasn't a threat.
He held a finger up to his lips for her to stay quiet since he didn't want her to yell or do anything to attract the infected to them, he took a breath and pointed to himself with his right hand, then made walking motions with his index and middle finger and then pointed at the girl to indicate he was going to walk towards her which he did, rifle still slung on his shoulder and both hands in sight and away from his pistol and knife so he wouldn't be seen as a threat and maybe he could get some answers.​
 

Zarko Straadi

Edgenoble
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays,
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both
Favorite Genres
Sci-fi, fantasy, magical, modern, Steampunk
Genre You DON'T Like
Furry
Briar Rose
Interaction:
Otto Dakota K5 Dakota K5

To Briar Rose's great relief, the man slung his rifle onto his shoulder, then held out his hands. When he put his finger over his lips, she gave a little nod; silence only made sense. Since he didn't seem to be an immediate danger, she did a quick look-around to make sure no zeds or other threats might be coming from any other direction. Then he was making hand signals of intent to walk her way. She gave another nod to let him know that she wouldn't scream or panic if he did, even if her heart was hammering in her chest. What if he just wants to take my supplies? Offer to share and promise to be useful? Yeah, she decided. What if he wants... her mind skidded away from the reasons she knew to avoid talking to strangers, especially strange men, from the world that was. She took her bike by the handlebars and turned the front wheel away from the wall; if he lunged at her, she could shove it into his path so it would trip him up, fall back, draw the poker from her belt and swing. Then: probably run screaming, to draw the deaders back and give him something else to worry about. The nearest tight-space/cover was a pair of abandoned SUV's roughly halfway between where she was and the store she'd been in.

Another look-around. She'd already found out the hard way, that though the deaders weren't very smart, they liked to ambush from shadows, and could sometimes move quietly and achieve surprise. There as no such thing as being too careful. By now the man was just a couple paces away. She gave him a tentative smile. Please be nice...
 

Dakota K5

Disgruntled Mountain man
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day
My Usual Online Time
I am online from 5:00 Am to around 10:30 AM Fridays through Tuesdays due to work so post will be in between those times.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
both
Favorite Genres
I'm up for anything
Genre You DON'T Like
Meh none really.
Otto White
Interaction: Briar Rose Zarko Straadi Zarko Straadi
------
Otto Apporached swiftly, closing the distance in a few short steps where he stopped about three feet from the girl. He saw the iron poker on her belt and figured with her reach and the reach of the poker this was a good standoff distance if she tried to attack him as preteen or not he didn't know what was going on still nor who to trust. Otto took a breath before speaking to the girl in a low tone. "Look, I know you don't have any reason to trust me at the moment but I get the feeling sticking together will probably make our chances in this go up, plus you can tell me exactly what happened." Otto's voice came out in a smooth baritone with just a slight southern tint to it. He looked around again to see if anything had heard him speak and when satisfied he looked back at the girl. "Now, I ain't gonna try and coerce you into sticking with me or anything like that as right now I'm just trying to get a word on what happened and if you want to part ways and go on your own I ain't gonna try and stop you but on the other hand if you agree sticking together is for the best I ain't going to object to that neither but for the moment just tell me what happened?"


Otto looked at the girl expectantly, at least expecting an answer to the question, he was truthful when he said he wouldn't object either way on if she chose to follow or not as if she had made it this long she was more then capable of making that decision. He stood with his hand near his pistol in either case in the event some of the infected stumbled upon either of them at this moment, his head constantly moving and his eyes still scanning while sweeping over the girl to try and gauge what she'd do or how she'd react at the moment.​
 

Zarko Straadi

Edgenoble
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Briar Rose
Interaction:
Otto Dakota K5 Dakota K5
Soundtrack:

Briar Rose listened carefully to the man. Her expression brightened when he suggested they stick together, and she nodded enthusiastically. An extra mouth to feed. Nothing but trouble. Shoot her. The words came back to her fairly often in her roulette of nightmares, though sometimes the men were zombies, and they wanted to eat her rather than shoot her. She'd ran into a small group of survivors once. They hadn't said anything like that, but they way they looked at her, then looked at each other... They may not have wanted to shoot her on sight, but she could tell they didn't want her around, either. None of them tried to stop her when she mounted up and pedaled away as fast as she could.

Her expression turned quizzical when the man asked her to tell him what happened. She couldn't think of any time when an adult ever asked her about anything important. The way he said 'just tell me what happened' made her really, really wish she could.

"I would very much like to stick together sir," she replied just above a whisper, "and I promise I will try to be helpful and not a problem." She had a British accent, though she had never been to the UK. All of her nannies and tutors had been British, as well as the household staff. Furthermore, all of her favorite television shows were on BBC. "I'm sorry, I don't have a proper model of what happened, why or how. Six thirty-five fifteen!" The numbers, she'd said rather louder than she wished. She paled, and looked around quickly. Nothing coming, yet. She quickly reached into her bike's saddlebags and pulled out a spiral-bound tablet and a mechanical pencil. She flipped through the tablet, giving Otto a glimpse of notes accompanied by maps or diagrams, and a somewhat whimsical-looking "technical" drawing of what might have been the love child of a wind turbine and a kite. She turned the page to a list of numbers with a few gaps, and wrote it down: 06:35:15 p.m.

"I'm...trying to collect a list of start and stop times for the flashing light to see if there are any patterns," she said, nodding in its direction. "I mean, aside from the way it seems to stop for an hour when it stops. And if that period is getting longer or shorter. I don't think I have enough data to try graphing it out yet. Sorry. Sometimes I couldn't see it or had to run, and I don't have a way to record it when I'm sleeping yet. I try to observe the Light indirectly when I can, because what if there's a Medusa effect?" Situational awareness check. Then she flipped through her notes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even try to form a hypothesis about the zombie videos when they first started going viral, I thought they were just a meme, and I never liked zombies. I mean...you know, how people used to like zombies, before there were any?" She glanced up at him for any signs of incipient disapproval, then went back to her notes. "Observations, observations," she muttered paging past lists of short paragraphs. "Natural virus, prion disease, bioweapon, malfunctioning nano-immortality, respirocytes...nano-weapon," she said, reaching the page she was looking for. "So far, I think the best hypothesis is a nanotechnological weapon that runs on broadcast power or needs a transmitted signal, but I'm not sure that explains the catatonia reports or why zombies instead of everybody just drops dead and gets unzipped into elemental chemistry so there's no rotting corpses or why not make it spread harmlessly until it infected everyone they wanted to kill, unless maybe immunological variability was too great for them to make something that wouldn't make symptoms in some people and they were worried it might get detected before it could spread to everybody, so they figured making zombies would--"

She was interrupted by the echo of a snarl, coming, it sounded like, from one of the cross-streets behind the man. Holding her breath for maximum silence, she heard shuffling footsteps. Lots of them. Normally, she would have mounted up and started riding away as quickly as she could. But the man didn't have a bike. Her second primary strategy--small, defensible hiding spaces--wouldn't work for him either. He's a grownup. He'll want to decide what we do, she thought, looking to him to follow his lead.
 
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Dakota K5

Disgruntled Mountain man
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Meh none really.
Otto White
Interaction: Briar Rose Zarko Straadi Zarko Straadi
-----

Otto stood quiet and listened to the girl, letting her speak and speak she did. He watched and listened as she both wished to stick together as well as not knowing what had happened either but Otto got the sense that she didn't get what he meant when he said "tell me what happened" Since he had no memory of anything after he left for his hunting expedition and then waking up and being attacked by an infected. She spoke a little louder then she should have and if it had been an adult Otto probably would have scolded them but this was still just a child in front of him and judging by her answer to wanting to stick together she was probably just happy to see a friendly face. He again stayed silent as he watched her flip through pages in the notebook, many maps, and diagrams caught his eyes at brief moments before she launched into more words and explanations.

The girl spoke at length about how she was observing the flashing light and if it had any pattern or recognizable behavior to it's flashing. "Smart, this child is very smart." Otto thought while he listened, he tucked it away in his mind but at least he knew the kid would be more help than a burden in the situation. Finally, the girl explained her hypothesis on what had caused the zombies, that being a nano-virus, she began again before she was interrupted by a snarl echoing from behind him which caused them both to look back the way Otto came.

He heard the sound of scraping steps and footfalls along with more snarls but little in the way of visual contact, Otto wasn't sure how many infected were coming but it was going to be more than he would be able to deal with so their only option was to hide or run and Otto doubted the girl would be able to keep up with him in a run and carrying her wouldn't work either as he didn't want to harm the girl should he fall over. He scanned the area around them and his eyes landed on the store the girl had just come from, there was a fire escape on the side that which told him there was roof access from inside. Otto pointed to the shop. "We're going to the roof of that shop you came out of, we'll hide there until they pass or the light stops. Grab your things and follow me alright." Otto spoke with a tone of finality as he moved into the shop trusting she would follow behind him, he looked around the shop and saw there were no infected so he moved to what would be the manager's area along with a sign that said fire escape, he turned his head briefly to look at the girl to make sure she was following before he made his way over. The door to the manager's room was forced open already and papers were scattered about but between shelves was a door that had the fire exit symbol above it, when pushed the door opened with little effort due to such a door never being locked in the event of emergencies. "Go, go." Otto motioned to the girl as he grabbed a chair from the manager's office and brought it into the stairwell before propping it against the door and the wall adjacent in the stairwell so no infected could easily bump it open. He moved passed the girl and headed up the steps first, very slowly, turning back to motion to his lips so the girl kept quiet as Otto crept up the steps with his knife drawn, a single turn was needed to look at the door to the roof and again, using nonverbal communication Otto motioned for the girl to follow him up as he rounded the corner and made his way up and to the roof. Poking his head out he scanned the area they would be sitting in and found little in the way of life and with a satisfied grunt stepped onto the room.

As the girl followed him up he turned to her and spoke again in a low voice as to not attract the horde to their presence. "We have must to talk about but first introductions. My name is Otto White, call me Otto, not sir alright. Second, it's nice to meet you and what should I call you?" Otto spoke as he held his hand out to the girl for her to shake.
----
The time it took to clear stairwell and get to the roof: 1:21 M
 

Zarko Straadi

Edgenoble
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Genre You DON'T Like
Furry
Briar Rose
Interaction:
Otto Dakota K5 Dakota K5

Briar Rose nodded. The man's plan seemed sensible enough. Though there were a few cans of food in her bike's saddle bags, she didn't try to take them; too much fumbling, too little time, and besides, she already had the cloth shopping bag bulging with more. She silently followed the man into the store. No quick and easy way to block the doors, but she did grab a couple shopping carts and roll them across, one beside the other. They wouldn't provide significant resistance to entry, but they would rattle and make noise if the doors were opened. With luck, she and the man would be able to hear it, so the zeds wouldn't be able to silently push their way into the store and surprise them with an ambush from the shadows later.

The man was headed quickly to the back of the store, so she hurried to catch up with him. The manager's office--anything useful? One of the shef boards, if cleared of binders and knickknacks, could be slid through the front door-handles--but no time. "Go, go," the man said, grabbing a chair. Poker at the ready, Briar rose crouched low, shucked the bag onto her left shoulder so it would provide partial shielding and hugged the right wall so that nothing could come at her from her more vulnerable side.

She heard a thump behind her, and spun her head--the man was propping the chair under the doorknob to hold it closed. Then he edged past her to take point. He gave her a finger-over-the-lips gesture, and she nodded. She certainly had no intention of being the stupid girl in a movie who would blab or whine when silence was needed, or walk backwards in the dark in a negligee when there was an axe-murderer about! She fretted a little at the sight of his knife--it didn't offer much in the way of reach. Should I offer him my poker? she thought. But...then I'd be unarmed, and I barely know him. He's big and strong, so maybe the knife is OK? Be ready to back him up! Right, any zeds ahead of us will have the high ground, and I might not even be able to reach their heads...

Briar Rose couldn't hear anything as they crept up the stairs. She considered trying to switch to her slingshot, but decided she wouldn't be able to wield it effectively, burdened as she was with the bag of groceries. Thankfully, they made it to the roof without incident, and there were no ghouls waiting for them there. She looked around quickly to scan the roof, noting a vent for a forced-air temperature-control system. An alternate way out! If there's a fan at the top, it'll have a motor. Maybe the blades could be taken off and sharpened or something, unless they're plastic. Uh-oh, what if he can't fit, or the conduit's not strong enough to support his weight? Briar Rose bit her lip in thought. Well, if they trap us here, maybe I could slip through and-- The man's voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"My name's Briar Rose si--uh, Otto," she said softly. "Briar Rose Chadbury. It's nice to meet you too." She set down the bag of groceries, careful to do it quietly, then gingerly took his hand with her free hand. All of a sudden, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Be useful! "Are you hungry? I'm happy to share. Oh, about what happened, do you have any data? I was cooped up in a private boarding school, and once the news started getting really bad, the grownups took our devices away so they could tell us everything was under control. But you were out in the thick of it, right?" As she spoke, she was careful to keep her voice low and an ear toward the door, though she wasn't so sure she'd be able to hear the shopping carts all the way up here if the ghouls broke into the store.
 

Dakota K5

Disgruntled Mountain man
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Meh none really.
Otto White
Interaction: Briar Rose Zarko Straadi Zarko Straadi
----------

Otto shook his head at her question of hunger before she started asking him about the infected as well as giving a bit of insight as to what this girl was doing before all this. "It's nice to meet you, Briar, that's a nice name." Otto commented before his face took one of thought as he returned his hand to his side, he took his pack off while he thought, trying to remember anything other than the big blank between going hunting and this morning. He took out a large green wool blanket and set it out so they could both sit, he sat down first and motioned to the other space on the blanket. "You may find this hard to believe but when I asked you what happened I didn't mean the cause of this infection, I meant literally what happened? I went on a hunting trip a few weeks ago and everything in my memory between arriving at the site where I hunt and this morning being attacked by one of the infected is...a big blank, or rather I can only remember a red haze." Otto paused as he ran his hand through his beard in thought. "Sorry I can't give you more to work with but the last thing I knew before this was leaving home and everything was alright and fine."

As Otto spoke he heard the shuffling of feet from the street below them, he looked in that direction before he once again motioned for the girl to stay quiet as he took his rifle off his back and set it down with his pack as he laid on his belly and crawled to the edge of the roof and peeked over, he stayed there for a moment counting until he came to the number twenty-seven of the infected who were shuffling along the street and seemed none the wiser that they were on the roof. He backed away on his stomach again and slowly made his way back to where Briar and his things were. "Twenty-seven of them down there, they all are moving on though so that's good." He spoke lowly so his own voice wouldn't carry down to the street. "So Ms. Rose, what can you do? You're obviously incredibly intelligent for your age and resourceful enough to survive on your own until now as not many would think of a bike to get around in this. Now don't take that the wrong way, I'm not asking to judge your worth or anything like that as I wouldn't dare leave a child alone in this but I do need to know if we are gonna be partners or if I am going to be having to look after you." It might have sounded cold to a stranger but Otto was not a man who would sugar coat things and considered himself practical and he needed to know if this girl was going to ultimately be a boon or burden in their mutual survival, though he was more then confident to take care of the both of them if it came to that it would certainly increase their mutual chances if this girl could pull her own weight's worth.
 

Zarko Straadi

Edgenoble
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Genre You DON'T Like
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Briar Rose
Interaction: Otto
Dakota K5 Dakota K5

When Otto explained his situation, Briar Rose blinked at first, then nodded with understanding. Before she could reply, he motioned her for silence, then belly-crawled to the edge of the roof and peeked over to get a look at the horde below. While he did this, she got her slingshot and pouch of shot out of her pockets and quietly set them out, so she could be ready to assist if he decided they should snipe the zeds from the rooftop. Or for that matter, if they broke in from below, it made sense to try to take out at as many as possible at range before resorting to her poker. Then he returned and gave his report. She nodded again, relieved that the ghouls did not seem to be an immediate threat.

"So, Ms. Rose, what can you do?" he asked. Quiz time. Time to measure up...or fail to. Sure, he said he wasn't going to judge her worth; he said he wouldn't abandon her...but how long would it be before he wanted to...before she started to see the look in his eyes that said he wished she wasn't there?

Briar Rose stiffened. "I...I promise I won't be a burden to you sir...uh, sorry, Otto. I can make things with metal and leather. I wasn't allowed to have a garden, but I've taken care of plants. I got some vegetable seeds from a garden store but I didn't plant them yet because I'm not sure if it would be better to stay here to rebuild civilization or go out into the countryside, there are dandelions in the yards of some of the houses about five blocks that way, I have a map, I've read you can make a salad from the greens and a nutritious tea from the roots, I haven't done that, it sounds like it might taste terrible but it's something for when the canned goods are gone, would you like a Lorica Segmentata?

"That's Roman armor, like the Legions used," she said, hurriedly fishing through her backpack to pull out a drawing pad, and started quickly flipping through pages. "I hid out in a restaurant for awhile and there were extra-big cans of food there, sorry I didn't take any because they wouldn't fit in my pack but I was able to take some measurements and I think this would work against zed bites but probably not as well against people with knives and crowbars, and definitely not against guns," she said, finding the page she was looking for and handing the pad to him with a shaking hand. It showed a sketch of a curved rectangle with measurements for height and width with locations for holes to be punched in, and various stages in the construction of a passable imitation of Roman armor. "Once a can is empty, I'd cut the top and bottom off then cut the cylinder open down one side and bend it out and do another for each segment, and use smaller cans for the shoulder pieces and pieces for the arms and legs, punch holes in them and use heavy cord or maybe shoelaces to hold them together."

She paused to take a breath, and flinched. "Sorry, this is sized for me so the design might have to be different for you maybe lamellar armor like the terra cotta soldiers in that Chinese emperor's tomb wore, did you know there were thousands of soldiers in that army but they made each one with an individual face instead of just copying?" Briar Rose shook her head to stop herself from going off on a tangent, then her face fell. "Or you could just go to a sporting goods store and get motorcross armor..."

At this point, she realized she'd managed to prattle on for quite awhile without unequivocally demonstrating her usefulness. For a vertiginous instant, she was back in the darkened hallway at school, being transfixed by the rifleman's flashlight and knowing bullets would be heading her way in the next heartbeat. Utter, total rejection. Her mind flashed through sketches and diagrams collected in her books and papers, but she had a sick feeling that Otto could put on a Responsible Adult voice, rip all of her creations to shreds, and probably come up with uglier, more mundane, but ruthlessly practical solutions. Or at least point out that they needed to survive now, not waste time with the sort of things she might be able to build provided with a workshop, books, and plenty of time for practice, trial, and error.

Think of something that'll be useful now! she thought, "Maybe there's a mop or a broom in the store, one with a handle that can be unscrewed, if there's duct tape we could turn your knife into a spear so you'd have more reach. I'm good at being quiet and hiding and I can fit in small spaces. I've...I've killed...a few zeds, but I've tried not to because what if the person is still alive in there screaming in their mind because they can't control their body anymore, wouldn't that be terrible?" Seen not heard, she thought, recalling the state most people, especially adults, seemed to prefer from her, then waited, tensed, for Otto's verdict.
 

Dakota K5

Disgruntled Mountain man
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Several Posts a Day
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Male, No Preferences
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both
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I'm up for anything
Genre You DON'T Like
Meh none really.
Otto White
Interaction: Briar Rose Zarko Straadi Zarko Straadi
------

Otto listened to the girl, this Briar Rose as she spoke, he was calm and held a neutral look on his face. After promising to not be a burden she spoke at length of her ability to work with metal and leather which Otto took note of as well as the seeds she had and the possible use of dandelions and their possible uses when and if the food they had was depleted. Otto took his own mental notes on these as well along with how far ahead the child next to him was thinking ahead as well as her words of rebuilding which gave him a little bit more information on how bad this infection was but he kept those thoughts tempered as Briar was still a child and children tended to overexaggerate but maybe that was his own naive hopes.

Next, she spoke about her design for armor based off of Roman-style plates using empty cans, Otto didn't think the idea had much merit in an environment where being quiet was a top priority but he wouldn't deny it could be useful in situations against other people if they were a threat and had only melee weapons. He would have interrupted normally if an adult had been going on like this but he would give her this time, she probably hasn't spoken to someone friendly in a long while and while Otto could be considered cold at times he wasn't so heartless as to crush a child emotionally in such a situation as they found themselves in. She soon came to the dejected conclusion that motocross gear would be just as effective and more efficient which Otto only agreed on in his mind to the extent the gear could be found.

The girl then paused as her mind seemed to race, it seemed maybe her thoughts ran away before she could catch up in a way as she hadn't really answered his question at least not directly. She soon again spoke but now of mop handles and his own knife as an improvised speer as well as her ability to get into tight places, he picked up on her mentioning she had already killed some of these infected herself so that told him she would be able to at least do that if it came down to it. After she spoke she stared at him, waiting it seemed for him to say something.

"Hmm, your ideas and such are good for the future and to keep your mind active but don't let them overshadow your plans to get food, water and shelter first. Your armor idea would be better if you had to defend yourself against other people with melee weapons which is a possibility." Otto paused and ran his hand through his beard. "Leather worked stuff would be better against the infected though." He pondered on his own thoughts of her armor ideas. "As I said, I have no real plans on leaving you to fend for yourself in this environment I just wanted to know if you had any extra skills that we could use to our mutual benefit as well as how you acted given this current situation and from what you've said I believe we should be fine for the time being." Otto again stopped speaking as he listened to the shuffle of infected feet before another thought struck him. "I'll teach you some things as we go along to help you if this is something long term, this plague."
 

DuracellDuality

Edgebabby
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I'm a little of both, it depends on the mood.
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Any.
Genre You DON'T Like
None.
"Hey, Hector."

He's dreaming again, has to be. He hasn't heard her voice in years -- longer, even. She was taken from him long before the plague, but she died a second death when it all happened. He'll never forget it. He'd taken a short break in the shadows of an overturned car at an one-way street, careful not to make any noise to attract the bastards shuffling about behind him. He was no closer to the light, and every time he seemed to get close to it, he'd blink and there it went -- further on down the horizon line. Maybe he's just getting old. Maybe he was just filling his mind with something else other than her nagging, persistent voice, like a broken school bell. And just like all the way back in the day, it snapped him from his peaceful break -- brrrring! brrrring! went her voice, until they settled on the back of his neck, raising every last hair.

"C'mon Hector, wake up. You gotta go."

"Gretchen?" his voice was louder than he would have liked, but thankfully it didn't draw any of the zombies towards him. They simply continued to walk around, unaffected by the mumbling of an old man. "Wish I'd stop hearing your voice one of these days."

He could almost hear her response now, something like 'Not bloody likely.' along with a laugh and a punch to his arm. He could feel that, too, like a memory of tomorrow. But she was right, he had to go -- they stopped, finally, looking up at the sky like turkeys during rainfall. He only had an hour, he had to get some supplies, otherwise he wouldn't last much longer. So he pulled himself up, almost quite literally by his bootstraps, and kept going, back through the city streets.

Back the way he came.

*

He eventually came to a store, and looking through the windows, he could see it'd been ransacked by looters and zombies looking expectantly for food. It looked like there was some sort of a struggle here recently, too, but no blood. Wonder if someone did some spring cleaning for once. That got a chuckle out of him, which he promptly stopped, covering his mouth. He was too old to laugh normally -- it always came out as a hacking, loud sound. Not the sort of sound you want to make during something like this. But the store was empty, and the streets were packed with immobile zombies, maybe he was safe. He stepped away from the window, looking around for anything he might be able to use or eat, eventually spotting a loose bag around a bike -- some of the cans had fallen out but seemed otherwise unharmed and okay to eat. Fruit, some vegetables, even a can of beans. How lucky for him. He remembered Gretchen being allergic to beans, always made her nauseous. Not in the fun way, either, like that song went.

"Hey, these are free for the taking, right, buddy?" he said with a grin at the nearest zombie. He poked a bony finger at its shoulder, then pulled it away, a grimace on his face at the feeling of it -- not cold, not warm, not even there. It just felt ... like silly putty. "Eugh. Guess so. Thanks for the feast."

He grabbed the cans he could and went back to the store, trying to open the doors -- some shopping carts in the way, but they didn't give much resistance. Thank God for that -- he didn't want to be outside eating when the light started again. He pushed the carts back in front of the door and sat down in one of the aisles, opening one of the cans that had a pull-top, and started to eat. Once he finished, he'd have to go back out, and get to that light before it was too late. Something was nagging at him -- something worse was coming. He didn't know what, didn't know if it was actually going to happen or if it was just the worries of a world-weary old man.

But still . . .

TIME UNTIL NEXT WORLD EVENT 'MYSTERIOUS STRANGER': 17 HOURS, 30 MINUTES (1 MINUTE AND A HALF - BRIAR ROSE & OTTO CLEARING TO THE ROOF, 1 HOUR AND 3:30 MINUTES - HECTOR MOVING TO THE STORE AND BARRICADING HIMSELF IN)
 
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