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Post by Kelathi on Jun 22, 2015 1:01:09 GMT
((Here it is! The site's first zombie roleplay. Sooo you know the drill, ask to join as me and Red already have a general plot. Better name pending. Yada yada. Lets get straight to it!))
It hit the wall, the wood splintering at the impact. The songbirds that had only recently settled in a nearby tree were abruptly disturbed, and they leapt once more into the air in a flurry of feathers and alarmed trills. Then, as before, there was silence.
The bottle remained unmoved. She huffed in disappointment.
“You’re not aiming straight. Here.”
The voice that invaded the hush was soft, yet deep. It resonated pleasingly in the ear. A soothing, familiar voice, often tinted with an edge of humour that suggested the easy attitude of the speaker. In it she heard no underlying condescension, just the ever-present, un-faltering patience.
He lifted her arm slightly, gently, and she realized that he was right. Her finger hovered over the trigger. “Now remember what I told you.” She paused, recalling his words, and breathed in deep. Slowly, she exhaled, and as she did so, pulled the trigger. The wood splintered again, closer to the bottle, but still the object of her annoyance merely trembled, and stood defiantly, untouched, glinting mockingly in the sunlight. “It’s no use!” she muttered, exasperated, letting her arm hang loose, the nozzle of the gun pointing at the ground carelessly.
“Jay...” he didn’t need to finished his sentence before she lifted the gun again, flicking on the safety and holding it in her arms carefully, nozzle facing away from them. “Sorry, almost forgot. But still! I can’t do it. I’ll never get it.” She offered the gun to the man.
He smiled softly, that familiar face she had seen every day of her life. She almost smiled too, it was difficult not to, but this time she held strong, her mouth forming an indignant pout. He did not hold out a hand to take the gun. Instead, he folded his arms. “What did uncle Aiden say to you?” she sighed, tempted to swing her arms again, but she didn’t want to hold the gun like that after her father’s unspoken warning. Uncle Aiden had told her that guns should be treated with respect and be handled carefully at all times. What else had he said? “It does not matter how slowly you go, as long as you do not stop.” That proud smile again, that despite her tantrum, put a glow of warmth in her heart. “That’s right. Now how have you been improving?” “Slowly,” she admitted, glancing at the setting sun. “And will you stop?” A grin now, she couldn’t help it. “No.”
At this, she turned, and lifted the gun again, ignited with a new sense of determination. Her finger hovered over the trigger, and just as she was about to pull... she remembered his words again. She paused. She focused until she could only hear the sound of her own breath and the beating of her heart in her ears, not the susurration of the wind in the grass, nor the twittering of unseen birds...
Deep breath. She inhaled slowly, drawing the air in through slightly parted lips. Evening air filled her lungs. The world around them was painted orange as the sun dipped lower yet, reminding her of the fleeting time. You’re not aiming straight. She lifted the gun slightly, this time, and pointed it a little more to the left. Now remember what I told you. She exhaled gently. She fired.
The bottle shattered, fallen pieces littering the ground like tiny stars.
“I did it!” She yelled triumphantly, and hardly had time to put the gun into safety, and place it on the wall before he had swept her up into his arms. Herself, a giggling mess, and her father, a tower of safety, pride radiating from him and enveloping her like a blanket.
***
“I don’t know Aiden. A gun? She’s only ten for god’s sake.” Aiden was a stocky man, a direct contrast to Max’s lean body. He was his brother’s opposite in almost every way. Whilst Max was clean-shaven, Aiden sported a pretty impressive beard. Max was dressed in a casual shirt and jeans, whereas Aiden was wearing his same old khaki trousers and his beloved army jacket, which held a multitude of pockets. The latter, Max feared, were not empty... and probably hid a multitude of knives and otherwise sharp-pointed objects.
“Jaydie needs to be able to defend herself! Max, you don’ know what’s coming! One of these day’s you’re gonna thank me for encouraging her to shoot that gun.” He leaned back, and popped a cigar in his mouth. “Aiden, you’re not meant to...” but his brother had already lit up, and promptly puffed out a cloud of acrid air, which spiraled up to the ceiling. Max could feel disapproving eyes on them from the rest of the customers in the diner, but knew there was no use arguing. Aiden often did as he pleased, even if the apocalypse which he so fondly spoke about were to suddenly arrive at that moment, he would go down guns blazing, with that damned cigar still in his mouth...
Max covered his face with his hands, cradling his head for a moment before looking back up at his brother. “What exactly do you think is going to happen in the next 5 years that’s gonna call for Jaydie to have a gun?” he asked warily, sure he knew the answer. Aiden almost sputtered out his cigar. Almost.
“Erm, oh I don’t know....” He began, voice dripping with such sarcasm that Max had to stop his own eyes from rolling. “Martial Law?!” “Oh here we go again. Aiden, if we’re gonna do this I’m going to need something stronger than this coffee.”
Aiden was less than impressed with this, and Max knew he had failed to diffuse the conversation. “Max!” Aiden paused, and looked around conspiratorially before continuing in a lower voice, leaning over the table. “Max it’s gonna happen. I just don’ know when. But these cops, these soldiers, there’s gonna come a time when the world goes to shit, an’ were gonna turn to those we thought we could trust... and they are gonna fuck us in our asses and take over everythin’. ”
“Aiden, come on, there are kids in here!”
“I was whispering. Jeez, Max! you worry about the wrong things. There’s a conspiracy right unde’ y’ nose and all you can worry about is some shitty, snotty nosed kids...”
A gasp from a nearby woman. Max stood up at this, digging in his pocket for his change. “Oh, c’mon now Max!” Aiden began, but his brother had made up his mind. He dropped the money onto the table, thanked a passing employee for his coffee and told her to keep the change. Then just before he left his brother, he stood with his hands on the table, towering over Aiden. “Listen. I don’t have time to sit around listening to this anymore. You need to stop trying to drag Jaydie into your fucked up ideas, you hear me? Stay out of our lives until you can start taking some responsibility for yourself.” Aiden did not reply. He puffed on his cigar.
His brother left.
***
When the pandemic began, the reporters seemed to be simply scaremongers, merely presenters inducing panic as they so often did with exaggerated stories, and videos of wounded people in hospital beds. The information was scarce. First it had been described as a return of severe acute respiratory syndrome, which was passed through droplets in the air through coughing. Those infected became short of breath, and complained of muscle aches, cluster migraines and severe palpitations. Later, as conditions worsened in victims, it was labelled as more akin to gangrene. For as the disease progressed, limbs began to be eaten away by some unidentifiable means, it seemed as if the body had begun premature, acute and rapid decomposition. As the disease destroyed the body, the disease simultaneously began to affect their minds. Infected became erratic, unpredictable. They began to attack their nurses and doctors, and eventually, anyone who became infected had to be quarantined, both for their own, and the hospital staff’s safety.
After a while, the disease progressed so far that the infected lost their use of sight due to cancerous growths appearing all over the body, yet mainly on their face. In these states, through some as of yet incomprehensible means, they developed an ability dubbed as akin to a form of echolocation through high-pitched groans or ‘clicks’ of their still-functioning tongues.
Countless studies provided scientists with very few answers but of those answers, it was found that the disease was not passed through water droplets at all. Rather, it was discovered that the disease was spread through lesions to the victim’s skin caused by infected individuals, such as bites or scratches. But before a cure could be discovered, or even the origin of the disease figured out, the world had become overrun. Inside a year it was estimated that 70% of the population were flesh decaying infected.
Further controversies arose. A species, presumably evolved from Homo sapiens were discovered, and through an unidentifiable source, their presence was prematurely leaked to the public. These creatures largely appeared human but harbored certain inhuman abilities. In the beginning they were protected by the government, but due to the dissension surrounding their origin and speculation of their possible link to the disease, humans did what they do best. They terrorized these people, and as a result of high tensions and a desperate bid to re-establish some order, even the government turned against them. As a result they were forced back into hiding, and have been so ever since.
Acceptance has never been a particular virtue of people.
In their laterst bid to regain control on the dwindling population of species, Aiden’s premonition had become correct. Martial Law did indeed become the norm in many cities- those that survived long enough not to be overrun by infected. Now the people suffered not only the on-going attack from infected, but also the pressure of strict rules and rations inside strongholds, so-called ‘refuge sectors’. The outside world was a mess, so most survivors willingly chose to pursue access into these areas, if they were not already boxed in, in the first place...
***
Twenty years pass.
It was raining.
He sat in a faded chair, staring out the misted window, watching the streaks run down the pane. He could see down into the street. Above, the dark clouds grumbled angrily, promising lightning later on. The scene outside was blurred, and yet it was imprinted in his mind in startling clarity. Too many times had he seen this scene, just with different people. But always the same circumstances, though sometimes people didn’t die. Sometimes.
When he heard the gun shot he did not flinch. He did not look away. A woman was screaming. The man was slumped on the floor. The perpetrators were two soldiers, dressed in military gear akin to the old-fashioned riot gear, their faces invisible behind their helmets. They were armed. One man kept his gun trained on the woman, the other grabbed her by her hair, and scanned her with his device. Max could see from here the flash of red on the little screen. The man loosed his hold, she fell to her knees. He raised his gun for a second time.
Her cry was cut short, and then there was silence.
Max had aged. But it was not just his appearance that had been marred by time. His eyes were empty most days, speaking volumes of the damage within his mind. His easy nature had been replaced by an austere countenance. Sometimes his humour resurfaced, and one might see the kind of man he used to be. The light would return to his eyes, laughter might even be emitted from his tired mouth. But those times were rare nowadays. Everyone here had faced hardship; no one questioned anyone about their pasts. Everyone had lost something, or someone precious to them.
He tore his gaze away from the two bodies out there, dying like dogs in the street, and dug in his pocket. He pulled out a photograph faded by age. His only physical link to his past. He sat there for a while, distant, disembodied from this little room, the rain pattering against the window outside. He pretended not to notice the men dragging the bodies away.
A noise. He quickly returned the photo to his pocket, and returned his gaze outside, yet his attention was focused indoors as he listened. He noticed the bodies were gone now; there was only the sound of rain.
The door opened softly behind him.
He knew the sound of her footsteps by heart. He knew her movements in detail. She approached him, and silently, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, nestling her face in his neck. He knew the curve of her face, the feeling of her soft skin against the crook of his neck, the gentle brush of her hair catching on the stubble on his chin. But his favourite part was the soothing scent that she emitted, calming his nerves. For a moment he seemed unrelenting, a man made from stone, as cold as the scene outside. Then, suddenly, he turned, embracing her. Without a word he swept her up, and carried her to the mattress on the floor. Her face was shadows, but she smiled in the half-light.
At the end of the world there are few pleasures. Yet, they are the only things that keep you sane.
((What happened to his daughter? Mystery mystery!))[/i] [/font]
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 22, 2015 22:44:53 GMT
(Meh, personally I really like the title. :D)
In even this despondent world, there were many things that could be considered pleasurable. Some were even still scorned by this chaotic time. But there were some simple pleasures that were perfectly innocent, yet fully freeing. Such was the joy of riding a horse. To feel the power of the muscles below rhythmically pulsing in time to the steady drone of hoof beats, the rise and fall in motion that was a strange sort of lullaby. The wind in one’s hair, the scenery passing by in a magical mix of high speed yet plenty of time to study the view. The great black beast’s hooves pounded into the earth as he ran, his breath in heavy grunts as he nearly flew over the land. His rider was only slightly heavier than the saddle and bags combined, but managed to ride with clear skill. How else could the lack of a bridle or bit be explained?
Despite the euphoria of racing along, soon it came time to slow to a cautious walk, the stallion’s breath slowly fading to a near silent whicker. The compound waited ahead, a veritable fortress against the unwanted members of their species. Creatures designed and cursed to wipe out their own. It was why the two half-fae were able to travel relatively unopposed. Relatively, as not all humans had yet be turned.
“C’mon, Kirill, it’s only for a few days, at most,” Katya noted, adding the last emphasis at the irritated snort. Rather than continue at an angle, the horse huffed and began to walk towards the small, heavily guarded entrance to the compound. They both could see how difficult it was going to be to escape later, given that only soldiers seemed to be headed back out of the compound. And they were ready to kill anything that wasn’t human.
Katya readjusted her oversized, pocket-laden jacket around her, finding her heart beginning to race a little as one soldier began to walk out to meet the horse and rider. He held up a hand, to which Kirill stopped – eventually. Katya did not seem overly phased at the annoyed soldier, who had had to move out of the way to avoid being walked over. Instead, her acting was superb.
“State your purpose here.”
“The last town I was in was overrun. I’m trying to meet up with other survivors,” Katya responded in a clean, if accented tone. The man looked up at her suspiciously. “Which town?” On cue, Katya looked away for a moment. “Northglenn, out west.” The soldier seemed satisfied with the quiet answer, motioning for her to move forward. The ruse was sadly a very solid one; Northglenn truly had been overrun, about five weeks before. A handful of survivors, she had been told, had managed to make it to the compound, creating a convincing cover story for her as she made her way towards the gate. The real test was coming. Thanks to the nature of the origin of the virus that these humans feared so greatly, their test was not always a given pass. Kirill tensed as she slid off, allowing the soldier to scan her. For those few moments, the sound of her heartbeat thudded loudly in her ears, waiting and watching the scanner. No red… please no red…
“Move on,” was the gruff order as the scanner blipped, sensing the woman was clean. She moved forward, silently letting go of the breath she had held. The horse followed her without any cue, evidently well trained as no one seemed to give them much of a second glance. The only thing to draw curiosity from the two was that the horse was indeed wearing only a saddle, and a uniquely pale coloring on part of the woman. Her pale, nearly white hair was pulled into a multitude of braids, now cascaded into a single thick ponytail. A band held back stray hairs, hiding the tips of her ears while a bandana fit snugly about her neck. Beyond these, her loose, long clothes were nothing remarkable, pockets hung loose and only half were still usable. The horse’s legs were flecked with mud, showing a long, weary journey where the dust had merged with the sweat. Two slightly bedraggled strangers, nothing special or new about that. Not in this world.
What was new was the purpose to which they traveled, not simply seeking shelter but something. With wide, pale golden eyes taking in every detail around them, Katya was able to maintain a friendly enough appearance to approach various people on the street, always asking the same thing: “Where can I find Aiden?”
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 23, 2015 12:50:14 GMT
“Ready for some grub?”
She was curves and smiles as she dressed. He lay in the bed, his hands placed behind his head as he watched her, that look of contentment on his face, the blessed few moments before the memories of his past flooded in. If it wasn’t for the peeling walls and the decrepit state of the bare room with its single mattress... he could almost imagine this was how life was now. That outside there was a bustling city, the sound of cars darting around busily instead of being abandoned, rusted skeletons on the broken street. He imagined that the early morning filtering through the window was accompanied by the sound of songbirds, barely audible above the drone of the city. She changed in the warm morning glow. Back into her war-torn clothes.
His smile faded slowly. “Yeah.” He muttered in answer, and she could see the beautiful moment was gone, and he was plunged back to reality. She pulled on her shirt, and sadly, walked over to him as he pulled himself up to sit. He paused at her approaching form, and she sank down back into the warmth of the blanket, the strength of the cage of his arms. “Grub can sod off.” She whispered, to which he laughed gruffly. They stayed there a moment more before he stirred again. “Come on. They’ll be wondering where you are.” She laughed humorlessly, but pulled away too. She finished getting changed, and by the time she was pulling on her boots he was also clothed. They both stood up, and she came towards him.
A sound reverberated from the distance, cutting through the quietness. A low drone of a siren, akin to the ones used in WWII that had been used to signal air raids. They stared at each other. Thankfully, it halted, then played a second time, before fading away altogether. Relief flooded through them both, understanding the significance of the call, and he enveloped her once more. Then, gently, he pulled away and placed the riot helmet on her head. She snapped down the visor,obscuring her face. She picked up her automatic rifle.
And now she was just another soldier.
“I love you.” Her voice was muffled, but the meaning was not lost.
“I love you too.”
***
In response to the call, armed soldiers flocked to the command centre, a large building in the middle of the city. It was no random congregation, but an ordered march. Soldiers of each of the different locations in the city first lined up in their predetermined designated areas, before all marching together to their target. The streets cleared. Where there was a large concentration of soldiers, it was not where people wanted to be. For this was often the time for an increase in random checks for forged ration cards, or even checks for infected... By no means was the entire army required to answer the summoning call, the sector was defended at all times, but now mainly around the outskirts. This gave the inhabitants time to themselves. It was filled as such: People who did not want to deal with the illegal activities of the city stayed in their homes. People that did were free for a short time to congregate secretly, just as the soldiers did, but for an entirely different purpose...
It was to one such group Max made his way to now, crossing the street quickly. Most of the soldiers will have left by now, but it always paid to be wary. He came towards a building that used to be an old diner, the front windows were smashed, and inside tables and chairs lay upturned. It was much like most of the buildings in the sector. There were still streaks of blood, brown with age and now immovable stains, on the floor, or sometimes spattered up the walls. He entered through the gap where the door should have been. The outside boasted nothing of interest but behind the counter, there was a small entrance to the cellar beneath. The man standing at the counter waved him in, and continued to stand guard, ready to knock on the hidden door if danger appeared, in which the cellar would explode like a disturbed ant’s nest through the back door that led into the alley behind. Alternatively he was there to question any newcomer, and make an informed decision if they are to be let down. Max was a regular, so there was no need for the endless questions designed to find out if the newcomer was a soldier in disguise.
Beneath, things had already begun. Stalls had been set up in the gloom, the light provided through the dusty yellow bulbs on the ceiling, powered through the use of a military generator that had been stolen years ago. On these stalls were cigarettes, forged ration cards, and items such as chocolate and magazines. All rare commodities that people managed to steal, smuggle and sell. Max walked past them all, right to a stall almost at the back. On this table there were boxes. He did not need to look inside to see what this man was selling, and they were boxed as so for a reason. Whilst the selling of cigarettes and ration cards was illegal, the selling of guns and other weapons was punishable by death. A sealed box ensured a quick escape, rather than having to take the time to pack the merchandise up when in a hurry. Seeing Max approach, the man smiled, opening his arms in welcome. “Max! Long time no see. Thought you’d stopped coming to our little meetings?” Max smiled mirthlessly, and they embraced quickly. “Johnny, nice to see you.” As the man pulled away, he swept his hand over his unnamed boxes. “Come to inspect the wares? Got a little revolution on your hands, maybe?” he joked. He would only sell to those who were spoken by word of mouth to be trusted... by those he trusted. Sometimes he sold to various revolutionary groups, who were against the military and wanted a government reinstated. Sometimes he sold to people outside the city. But he did not sell to random civilians. He only wanted people who knew what they were doing handling his guns. “I hear your trade has gone down, recently.” Johnny’s face fell at Max's comment, and he grimaced. “You heard correct. I hear the Fireflies are all wiped out now.” The Fireflies were the first of such revolutionary groups. Whilst they had managed to cause quite a stir, they seemed to have gone down almost soundlessly, just another pile of wreckage in this derelict world.
“I heard the same.” Max replied. Johnny signed the cross over his chest, and then slapped his hands on the table gently. “Now!” He began again, sunnier now. “What can I do you for?” Max did not need further encouragement. “Where did you come from this time?” Johnny’s eyes lit up understandably, and he suddenly became very serious. After a pause, he dug in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one to his friend, who declined, so he continued with his own. People were not strictly allowed to smoke in here, but Johnny was welcome most anywhere, and people generally allowed him to do as he pleased, within reason, to ensure he returned and continued trade. Lighting his cigarette, he took a long drag before speaking. “I jus’ come from Eastshore Pax. Quiet place, on account of all the infected. Completely overrun. Not just from them though.” He took another drag. “Mercenaries?” Max prompted. His friend nodded, and continued. “Mercenaries, bandits, raiders, murderers, whatever you wanna call ‘em. I’ve heard some disturbing things. But I also heard...” He paused, weighing Max up for a moment, as if deciding whether to disclose the information. Max was an old friend, he didn’t want to put him in danger. But he reasoned, he was just as likely to put himself in danger anyway, with or without Johnny’s words...
“I hear they got a few kids there. And someone who... might fit the description you gave me.”
Max didn’t say anything for a while. The first bit of information was surprising, as children were rare in this world. In the cities, numbers were controlled rigidly. Outsiders were allowed in if it meant possible new recruits to the military, or if they had items that may be valuable trade. But children were often seen as a liability. Outside such sectors they rarely survived anyway. They must be being protected by the mercenaries. Surprising information, but not particularly important. The second bit of information was the part that interested him... When Johnny offered a cigarette again, this time Max took it. His movements were automatic, the motion of lighting the cigarette familiar, soothing, despite the fact that he hadn’t smoked in almost 10 years. “I’ve got to go after her, Johnny.” Johnny nodded understandably, and added helpfully. “Jus' don't be disappointed if you don't find what you're looking for, there's lotsa women out there that fit your description. Also, Lar ain’t gonna be impressed. Anyway, listen... If you are gonna go out there let me kit you up first. I’ll take this moment to finally repay my debt.”
Max’s thoughts were running a mile a minute. No, Lar was not going to be pleased. But he had to do this. If there was even the slightest chance... He took one last drag, which, to his own surprise, finished off the cigarette. He dropped it to the floor and crushed it with his foot. “I need to speak to Lar first. Where shall I meet you?” They exchanged details, and Max entered the streets once more.
***
Sector 5, as named by the military, but known by the rest of its inhabitants as Wesbrook, did not take kindly to strangers. Even after the infected sensors cleared the two, people were reluctant to speak to them. Where did they come from? Who were they? Questions the people kept to themselves, but were evident on their faces as they stared coldly at the newcomers after their own question. Either they did not know who this Aiden was, or they were reluctant to share the information...
A few of the soldiers at the gate had been eyeing up the horse. They wanted it, but would not take it unless they had orders from above, or unless they felt the people who owned it posed a risk to the sector. So for now, the two strangers were allowed to wander around freely with the creature. This is how Max came to notice them. The clipping hoof-beats were not a common sound in the city, and therefore the little group was sure to draw attention. He had been waiting in the shadow of an alcove, sitting casually on the step whilst he waited for them to pass by, lighting another cigarette. They were obviously new here. Poor souls. He could understand the draw to the city, a chance of being protected from the outside world and all it’s horrors. But it would be incredibly difficult, even impossible for them to leave again, should they wish.
Unless, of course, you knew the right people.
((Will keep the name then ))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 23, 2015 15:11:40 GMT
“Stupid humans… you’d think we were going to bite them,” Katya growled under her breath as she returned to Kirill’s side, the whickered response making her roll her eyes. “We were scanned, otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Humans have no faith in anything but their guns,” she huffed, referring of course to her own choices of weapons. Hidden under the bags and blanket on the horse was a bow and quiver of arrows, daggers hidden in virtually every usable pocket on her. Another whicker, ears swiveled forward as the horse regarded the woman. She seemed to think for a moment; “Aye… to be asked to play courier with this package, rather looks like faith in us, doesn’t it? Makes me wonder why.” As she walked on, however, it was clear it was a mystery that she would only solve by following through. She had heard, of course, the tales of horror that had happened to her ancestors at the hands of humans, intermixed with the stories of how her family line survived. A rare breed made even rarer, but not yet extinct. Trusting humans… it was about a fifty-fifty chance.
The odds of finding this Aiden seemed lower than that, however, given the looks of distrust. While Katya had remained completely polite – at least by her own standards – the people had only offered “I don’t know,” “Never heard of him,” or just a simple “Sod off.” That one, at least, had been more honest. Biting her lip, Katya scanned for more people to ask, finally spotting a stranger in an alcove. She could smell the smoke from across the street, wrinkling her nose before she could school her expression. Confidently, she strode out to the man, followed by a more cautious Kirill. “Excuse me, sir… do you know where I can find Aiden?” she asked, although she was half convinced the response would be just the same as any other she had gotten. The other half of her was the rationale behind asking the stranger.
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 25, 2015 2:31:13 GMT
Unfortunately for Max, instead of passing by, the woman approached him instead, the horse trailing behind her. He cursed in his head, standing up slowly, using his height to its full advantage. Maybe it would be enough to cause her to clear off- he didn’t have time for an exchange. He needed to get to Lar preferably unseen by any soldiers, which wasn’t likely with this damn horse around... He was ready to provide some indifferent answer to whatever enquiry she was sure to put forward, the new ones were always the same with their endless questions about how the city worked, what the rules were... etcetera.
But her words stopped him in his tracks.
“Excuse me, sir… do you know where I can find Aiden?”
He looked at her properly, now, studying her face especially. In the faded mist of his memory, he did not recognise her. Perhaps someone else had set her up for this? As the thought entered his mind, his gaze flitted down the street briefly. But who? Her question may have seemed innocent enough, but it was ironic that she would approach him asking for some ‘Aiden’, after all these years... The pause he gave her was telling enough. He took a drag on his cigarette, suddenly no longer in such a hurry. He needed to know what this girl wanted before he could go ahead with what he was going to do. Besides, he didn't know how long the summoning would take. If she were let out early, Lar would wait for him back at their room anyway.
“Who’s askin’?”
How much did she know about Aiden... and his line of work? How much did she think Max knew himself? Or had she been asking people on the street anyway? All questions that he needed the answers to before he could proceed happily about his business. Or, at least, as happy as you can be in a place like this...
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 25, 2015 4:14:58 GMT
As soon as the stranger stood, the horse’s ears went back, a deep grunt escaping him as he followed behind the woman more closely. She, on the other hand, looked rather calm. Simply standing wasn’t as intimidating as some of the other body language she had seen that day already.
The body language he gave her after the question spoke volumes. He clearly paused, even glanced away from her as if expecting someone to be lurking nearby. Katya’s eyes widened, suddenly excited. His answer tried to be noncommittal, but the change hadn’t gone unnoticed.
She moved close, clearly not overly used to personal boundaries of others, staring up at him with an ‘aha’ expression. “I’m asking,” she replied, then paused herself. “Oh… um…” Katya started, looking away as she tried to remember. “I’m an… old friend and a new… no, from another place,” she tried to repeat; a code of some sort, clearly. She bit her lip, waiting for the stranger to respond with the other part of the code.
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Post by Kelathi on Jul 1, 2015 9:44:33 GMT
She did not seem fazed by his imposing height; rather, she merely stepped closer to him. Despite himself, he was impressed, but he was also simultaneously annoyed. It did not seem he would be leaving anytime soon... When she replied with ‘I’m asking’, he almost laughed, a small smile twitching onto his lips for a moment before he regained his composure. It was such a strange thing to hear from such a small, apparently harmless individual... The next words she uttered seemed stilted, as if she were reading from a sheet. That’s when he was sure it was his brother she was referring to. It was so like Aiden to have a coded message passed around, he thought bitterly... Well, he didn’t know the answer, but he’d see what information could get from this woman. He had no intention of seeing his brother after all this years, especially after the unsavory last time they met. However, if he was in any trouble...
He dragged for the last time on his cigarette. Disappointed that he had not properly enjoyed it due to the distraction, he dropped it to the ground, crushing it beneath his foot. “What mess is he in now?” he commented, half to himself. Before she could answer, he heard a noise. A scuffle of feet, maybe? It was not worth taking the chance. Alert now, he glanced down the street. He wanted to continue this conversation... But they would not be alone for much longer. The last thing he wanted was a routine scan from a couple of stray soldiers, even though he knew he was clean. There was no guarantee that the scanners never made a mistake, after all...
He stepped down from the alcove, passing her, and entering the alleyway just round the corner. “Come on. We’re not safe to talk here, and there’s someone I think you should meet.” He assumed she would follow, despite him not being able to finish her coded message. By the look on her face, he guessed it was the most information she had received in a long time.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 1, 2015 16:32:14 GMT
Katya’s expression betrayed her excitement at finally being able to use her code. It immediately twisted into one of disappointment and irritation when it wasn’t returned. “That’s not the code,” she noted softly but aloud by accident, slipping back into her mother’s tongue as she took a step back, suddenly mistrustful of the man. He had meanwhile gotten distracted again – what, was he an imbecile or something? – but she didn’t say anything. Better not to bother those who were mad. By either definition.
Besides, she was the one looking for this Aiden. How was she supposed to know what he was doing?
When the man moved, Katya quickly made her way back to Kirill’s side, his ears pricked at the same noises that the man had noticed. The man’s words, however, made her pause; had to meet? But he hadn’t used the code! Of course… he didn’t look like the code-using type. And maybe he was going to take her to someone who’d have the other part of the code…
Biting her lip, Katya followed, Kirill snorting his disagreement while walking beside her. They’d been traveling for some time, and were now rather in the thick of things. Might as well follow down the rabbit hole, as her father would say…
(kinda looking forward to the moment they say Kirill can't come with Katya cuz he's a giant horse cuz there's a secret to go with that... heehee)
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Post by Kelathi on Jul 2, 2015 14:53:41 GMT
((LOL at her calling him an imbecile XD Why do I have a feeling she’s gonna be a handful? ;D ))
She had hesitated for a moment before following. So she wasn’t completely ill accustomed to the city, however the fact that she did come with him showed that she was desperate. This suggested that his assumption had been correct; Max was her first promising lead in a while.
The clipping of the horse’s hoofs were a telltale sign of their whereabouts, Max just had to hope whoever it had been that they had heard would not bother following them down a darkened alleyway. He considered lighting another cigarette, but decided he would wait. He didn’t have much to bargain for another pack, so it would be better to treat his last few sparingly.
They walked down the road in silence, the sun obscured by the tall buildings on either side. Eventually the alley opened up, and Max scanned the street quickly before stepping out. Turning the corner, he stopped by a garage door. He flipped off the lock, which turned out to be broken, but had been carefully placed so that it was not apparent immediately, and pulled the door up easily. It rattled as it swung open, the sound echoing down the empty street. “You can keep your horse in here for the time-being, it can't follow where I’m taking you. Also it’s your best bet if you don’t want it to be stolen.”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 2, 2015 16:28:57 GMT
Had Katya known the man’s assessment of her, she’d have tried to beat his brains out and feed them to the first clicker she could find. Not that she could even if she put her heart and soul into it, but she would have tried.
Kirill was as cautious walking along as the man was, tail flicking a few times as he steadied his pace. There was little to do to hide the hollow sound of his hooves against the paved street, but he kept any other noises from escaping him. Katya stayed close to the horse, but kept her eyes trained on the man. Kirill would watch the area, she would watch the stranger. At the garage, her eyes lit up, clearly thinking this would be a secret entrance somewhere. Her father’s love of spy novels was clearly inheritable to anyone who knew the family. The man’s remark, however, got her to pause. “What? But… oh… ok,” she said slowly and uncertainly, looking to Kirill. The horse snorted at last, shaking his head as he went inside. She walked in carefully after him, ensuring no one was in there. Satisfied, she turned to the man.
“Be right out.” Katya and Kirill moved back into the dark space created by the garage, the horse essentially vanishing with his black coat. Katya struggled with something, the jangle of metal audible before she began to strain. Her grunts were soon followed with a strange sort of soft crash and strangled yelp; evidently, she had issues moving the saddle. She emerged a few moments later dusting her hands, one set of the saddle bags slung over her shoulder, and a little more dust on the knees of her pants.
“Alright, lead the way,” she said as confidently as she could to the man, hoping for some reason that perhaps he hadn’t heard her struggles. As she walked back into the alleyway, she was followed by a shaggy black dog who kept at her side with no signs of a leash or other means of ownership. Actually… after the crash with the saddle, there was nothing to suggest a horse even resided in the garage, save for the saddle safely hidden in the dark.
(Oh, you gave me an opportunity really fast XD heehee)
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Post by Kelathi on Jul 2, 2015 17:29:03 GMT
((I’m awesome hehe))
He walked a little away as she and the horse entered the garage, keeping his eye on the street yet as casually as possible, but at the crash and the yelp he turned to look back towards the garage. He narrowed his eyes before sighing, turning back to the street and crossing his arms. How hard can it be to put a horse in a garage? When she re-emerged, he stepped forward and closed the garage door, the gloom concealing the horse. He placed the deceitful lock back carefully how it had been previously, and as he turned, he saw the hound. He paused, it was not unusual to see dogs in the city, but strays were usually destroyed, or rescued by the citizens. It did not look particularly threatening, so he did not comment on it. Stranger things had happened.
He led the woman back to the old diner which he had only recently left, stepping through the dilapidated doorway, the door itself hanging despondently on it’s hinges. The man behind the counter did not regard Max as kindly this time, which was understandable. He was busy studying the woman. “Who’s this?” He stated suspiciously. Max stopped a few yards away. “She’s looking for Aiden. Can you send Johnny up?” The man looked from Max to the woman, then back again. With a grim look, he pulled out a FarSpeaker from his pocket, evidentially stolen from the soldiers. Mobiles were obsolete now, with no one to keep the servers up, making generators the only source of power, which were usually reserved for the soldiers. The only way to communicate long distances now was the FarSpeaker, a more reliable breed of the late walkie-talkies.
The guard pressed it to his ear. “Yes, ‘s me. Yeah I got Max here with some girl. Yeah. Something about Aiden. What? Oh... okay. Alright. Yeah, bye.” He dropped the object back in his pocket. “Johnny’s comin’ up.” He stated. Max was momentarily taken aback. He was leaving his store to come and talk to them? Either he didn’t want the woman to see the stock, or what they had to talk about was not for just anyone’s ears...
Who was this woman?
They could hear the hatch lift up, and promptly, Johnny appeared. He grinned at Max, stepping out from behind the counter. "Didn't expect to see you back so soon." He joked. Then he turned to the woman.
((Have pmed you))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 2, 2015 18:28:37 GMT
(Very yes :D)
Katya was hesitant to enter the building after the man, her pursed lips showing her concern as she slowly entered. Coming into a camp that had access to the sky was not so bad. Going inside… or worse yet, underground… that was far more problematic.
As usual, the dog went largely ignored, sniffing at everything while waiting with Katya. The man they had been following went up to the guard in the old diner, playing the middle man. Of course, hearing a different person be asked for in her search for Aiden made her tense. Was this not the right place after all? Was this man going to get her into trouble?
She jumped back when the hatch opened, as if convinced that the figure coming up would be a clicker ready to attack. It was, however, just another human, although Kirill’s ears did lay back and Katya could feel rather than hear the start of a growl. His reaction to seeing the woman did not help.
“Ah! Been expecting you,” Johnny noted with one of his customer friendly smiles, not at all dissuaded by her lack of response. “You’re Katya, right?” She nearly twitched at hearing her name; “I’m here to see Aiden,” she noted firmly, clearly unsettled with the situation. This was NOT what she had been told. Johnny, however, seemed to know this already. In fact, he knew enough to not even take a step towards her, not having to see that she was within inches of running away. “The plan’s had some… last minute changes. But, friends indeed are friends in need,” he added with a bit of a smile, Katya’s eyes immediately lightening up. The code! “I’m an old friend from-“ she began, but Johnny waved his hand. “That’s fine, darling. Let’s go somewhere a little more private.” Katya glanced down at Kirill, who looked back up at her with as much uncertainty.
(Floor is yours :D)
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Post by Kelathi on Aug 10, 2015 22:11:59 GMT
The exchange between the two was strange. The woman obviously had never met Johnny, and yet he acted as if they were old friends. Something was going on here… but despite his curiosity, it was nothing to do with him. He turned to leave, sure that the situation was now in hand, when Johnny placed a hand on his shoulder. Max stiffened, but not through fear. An old memory resurfaced. He turned slightly to face the man, who rather strategically took his hand away. “Don’t be leavin’ so soon, man! Remember that conversation we had earlier? Makes sense to kill two birds with one stone and talk now.” He explained cheerfully. At this, Max glanced at the woman. They were going to talk in her presence? Why did this concern her? His suspicions had been correct. Something was occurring… something that involved them both. So Johnny was going to repay his debt by kitting Max up, but in return, he was going to ask a favour. A favour that involved the woman.
“Will this take long?” Max responded, more gruffly than he had intended. “I haven’t had chance to speak to Lar.” At this, Johnny laughed flippantly, and began to walk away, leaving the two little option but to follow. As he went, he threw over his shoulder, “Why do y’ need chance to speak to Lar? You already know you’ve made up your mind.”
Johnny’s logic was undeniable*.
Max had indeed already made up his mind. But he needed to say goodbye to Lar before parting ways. She would not accompany him, he was sure. He wanted to believe that she would, but Lar was a home bird, no matter how dysfunctional the home. She had fought tooth and claw to stay posted in this sector, to be with him, but also because she felt more grounded when she stayed in one place. He would make time for her, of course. He would not just disappear without a word.
But Johnny was not one to wait… So he followed their shady companion into the street.
He led them down an alleyway, stopping at a pile of trashcans. With a wink in Max’s and the girl’s direction, he rapped on the cans in a very specific sequence. Above, a head popped out of the broken window, merely a flash of blonde hair before the individual disappeared again. Then, the wall seemed to move. There was a door, but on the front, broken bricks had been cemented to the outside, providing the best form of camouflage. A woman, evidentially the bearer of the blonde hair in the upstairs window, regarded them all with hardened eyes, before disappearing back inside, allowing them to follow. Johnny led them in, and yet down one more level into the cellar. “Dooooown the rabbit hole!” he chirped.
They stepped inside.
Down the rabbit hole, indeed.
There were guns, of course, but these were not the pistols sold in the communal cellar. These were rifles and shotguns, machine guns and a range of other gun-shaped weapons that he could not identify. There were heavy-duty crossbows, endless rows of nail bombs of all sizes, unlit Molotov Cocktails and melee weapons such as baseball bats laden with nails, metal poles and fire axes.
Countless memories ignited. Johnny had been watching him, calculatingly, a small smile slipping onto his lips. “I’m sure it goes without sayin’ that this stays between us three.” He spoke with a glint in his eye. “Well then!” he clapped his hands suddenly. “Max, kit up, you’ll need it. And replace that flea-bitten rucksack of yours; you’ll need somethin’ more heavy duty to carry around the goodies that you’ll need. There’s also health kits right at the back, bandages and even anesthesia for them more messy jobs. We got everythin’, water purification tablets, skinnin’ knifes, bow an arrow or crossbow, whatever takes y’ fancy.”
“Johnny… I…”
“Trust me, you’ll need it. It’s harder out there than you’ll remember. The infected population has boomed, as have the numbers of bandits and all manner of bastards that you might run inta.” This was said with a scowl, the memory of the outside world all too fresh in his mind. Meanwhile, Max’s patience was at its end.
“Johnny, what the hell is going on?”
Johnny paused, before grinning, leaning back against one of the tables. “Sorry, Max. Thought I might be able t’ hypnotize you with all these goodies and make you forget there’s a reason for you to be here.” He winked at the woman. “But ye’re straight to business, as always, so I’ll no longer beat about the bush. Our friend here.” He motioned to the woman. “Needs to get to Aiden’s rathole. You need to get to Eastshore Pax, which jus’ so happens to be the place of the last sighting of Aiden. I want you to accompany her safely, and in the meantime, you’ll hopefully find what y’ve been lookin’ for over all these years.” His eyes glinted at his own ingenuity.
Suddenly, his eyes finally lay on the dog that had accompanied the woman... and comically, he near jumped out of his skin. "Fuck! What the fuck is that? Is that a dog!? Did that come with you?"
*((MY LOGIC IS UNDENIABLE. Always reminds me of IRobot XD Let me know if this is difficult to reply to!))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Aug 11, 2015 6:41:36 GMT
Johnny’s interactions with their guide did not settle either Katya or Kirill. What conversation earlier? Who was Lar? Why wasn’t the strange man with her code leading them back where he had come from? Katya again looked to Kirill for guidance, but the dog was only as experienced as she. Even so, he lead the way, following carefully as he sniffed everything they passed. Reluctantly, Katya finally followed, sticking close to Kirill.
Their joint tension did not lessen as they were granted access to this secret lair, particularly as it became clear they were going down. Down was a trap; up was access to the sky. Katya, surprised and admittedly a little curious as she looked about at the sheer magnitude of weapon options, looked worriedly at Johnny at his happy little warning. She immediately knelt beside Kirill after the clap, scratching his ear and whispering softly to him to keep the growl from escaping. Kirill did not like Johnny. Katya was too unsure of what was going on to make up her mind yet.
She had stood up again and been lurking behind their original guide – Max, as Johnny called him – as he had lost his patience and demanded to know what was going on. Katya’s expression revealed her innocence about what she had been told herself; “Aiden is not here?!” she asked as soon as it was mentioned, but her question was ignored. Kirill had been eyeing Johnny warily after the question was asked, only to let loose of a deep-throated growl once the man freaked out. Katya immediately fell to her knees to settle the dog given their limited situation, looking up at Johnny with a strange answer to his question. “Yes, he came with me,” she replied, focusing on settling Kirill rather than answering what he was. “He always comes with me,” she added, glancing at Max. Well… if they were going to be traveling with the man, she might as well make certain things clear, even if she wasn’t sure it was safer to travel with him in the first place. It was unsettling to think of what various “things” the man was looking for…
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Post by Kelathi on Aug 12, 2015 21:39:44 GMT
'Aiden's Rathole' An understatement, at least.
The site at which Aiden had adapted to call home was a zombie-infested ex-military zone, one of the largest in the state. It had been the base of the Fireflies before they had been all but eradicated. The base itself was relatively small, and one of the safest zones around... because it might kill you to get in. Just outside the walls were armies of infected, former occupants of the sector. If you did, somehow, manage to get past the hordes, the inmates were safe as they were up to their eyeballs with booby-traps such as hidden electric trip wires, strategically placed nail bombs and proximity mines... The place was an impenetrable fortress, which is how it earned it's name 'the Rathole' in the first place, because it's said that only rats can make their way safely in and out.... The rumour was that since the downfall of the Fireflies, Aiden had barricaded himself behind the walls. Whether he was alone, or had company and was plotting a revolution of his own was unclear. Whether he was even still alive was not a question easily answered, either. But if he was, Eastshore Pax is where he would be. Amongst the other issues, the brothers hadn't spoken for years, there was no guarantee that Aiden would greet him with a hug... or a bullet with Max's name on it.
"What's my payment?" All these thoughts had only taken a brief moment. He did not seem fazed at all by the woman's four-legged companion. As long as he would not be expected to feed it, and it stayed quiet when infected were around, she could bring as many animals as she pleased. Johnny recovered quickly at hearing Max's words. "Bloody hell Max! Is kitting you up and giving you a family reunion not payment enough?"
"You've also given me a one-way ticket to the afterlife. If I'm about to embark on a suicide mission, I want to know it's worth it." There was no guarantee that either of the people Max and the woman were setting out to find, would even be in Eastshore Pax. Johnny turned to the woman, "He's joking!" he assured cheerfully. When his gaze returned to Max, he became much more serious. He took his business very seriously, after all.
“I’ll give you 10 ration cards and 2 packs of cigarettes.” Both of these would be important for trading and bribing on the road. Meanwhile, Johnny rummaged in his pocket, pulling out one of his own packets. He slipped out a cigarette, which he proceeded to light as he waited for Max’s answer. An answer that almost caused him to choke.
“I want at least double the ration cards, and 3 packs of cigarettes.” Johnny shook his head. “I don’t have that many, Max. You can have 12 cards, but I’ll square on the cigs.” This time, it was Max’s turn to shake his head. “You wanna send me into the Rathole for 12 cards?”
“Jesus, Max! I can go up to 14, but that’s it. I got other mouths to feed.” He took a puff on his cigarette, and leant back against the table, his exhalation sending the smoke circling ponderously up to the low ceiling. His companion appeared to consider this offer, running his hand over the smooth, varnished wooden split limb of a crossbow as he did so. “Okay…” he began, “I’ll drop to 8 ration cards. But when this is all over I keep this crossbow.” Johnny laughed, clapping his hands, and offering his hand out. “Deal!” he announced, and they shook. “Man, for good faith you can keep whatever you an the lil’ lady can carry. I ain’t got no shortage of weapons.” Max smiled. They might even survive out there.
“I’ll go get your goods. 3 packs of cigs too wasn’t it? Have a mooch around, but be careful, it’s all loaded. More ammo’s in them boxes back there, it’s all labeled.”
Max needed no further encouragement. He located a rucksack, much sturdier than his own but not too large to carry. He picked up one for the woman, realising suddenly that they had yet to be introduced. "So, who are you?" he asked, not unkindly as he handed her a rucksack.
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