[Laura-Lee Gerwing]

Samuel Plainview
Whittier - “Plainview Manor”
10:50AM

The sky was clear, and the air was a brisk cold one. It never snowed or rained anymore, it always just seemed to get very cold in Alaska now, with the land always looking the same. Sam had never seen snow fall before, nobody since the bombs fell had, the only snow that was left in probably the entire former United States, was high up on the mountains, situated on the many small glaciers that were at one time, huge and even more dangerous than before.

Quietly, Sam sat in his chair outside on his porch, looking out to the sparkling water. The sun really shined on the water, and Sam turned away to look at the mountains that surrounded the rear of the town. Lucky for them, the mountains surrounding the town acted as a natural wall of defense, and was one reason why the tribal hordes hadn’t made it to town so quickly. The only way to town that didn’t risk losing half your men in the process, like one did if they tried going over the mountains, was the tunnel that went right through the mountains, which also put anyone on the offensive, at a bit of a disadvantage. Luckily, the tunnel was secured by militia, and had been for awhile, since it was the way anyone who was everyone, came into town. Or once did, before the war started.

As he sat there in his chair, looking at the scenery around the town, Sam’s mind slowly began to drift towards the issue of war. Like everyone in town, he was in high spirits, and sure they would win when the day was out; but he had no disillusion that many on their side would die in the process, compared to the amount to tribals that were estimated to be on their way. But as his mind ran through the events leading up to the war, like the other towns in the area forsaking Whittier, which was on everyone’s mind, and everyone in Whittier was angry about, a young man came rushing towards his home.

“Good morning, sir!” Henry said with a wave.

Henry was Sam’s go-to guy for message running, and had been ever since he met the young man and saw that his speed at running was pretty incredible. He proved himself even more on the training field, when Sam was passing messages between Group Leaders, and was the key to helping them work cohesively, and win the mock battle in the end.

“It’s a fine morning, Henry,” Sam said with a smile.

“Message for all Section Commanders sir, from the Council of Four. What do you think it is?”

Sam took the letter and shrugged, “Don’t call me ‘sir’, you know I don’t like that. I may be higher ranked than you, but when we’re off like this, Sam does just fine, understand?”

“Yes sir,” Henry said smiling. Sam just shook his head and pulled out the letter to read. “What is it?”

Sam didn’t answer right away, he hadn’t been able to even get past the first sentence. He quietly read it to himself, and when he was finished, folded it back up, looking to Henry.

“Seems one of the long patrols got ambushed last night. They’re all in pretty bad shape by the sound of it, but they’re all alive for now.”

“Is that all?”

Sam shook his head, “Let me finish. Since the doctors have been able to get them stable, Jeremy Olds, has given a full report about the attack and what they witnessed.” Sam’s face got a little unnerved, as he paused for a minute before saying.

“It seems we’ve got the entire horde of tribals coming down on us. And I mean their entire villages, not just a few war parties, by what Olds said. They’re not too far either, just a few miles out given the long patrol’s position at the time of discovery.”

Henry’s face nearly went pale white, as Sam told him the news, clenching his fist as his mind put the news all in order, and what it could mean. The outlook suddenly seemed grim, and the two of them knew it, even more than it had before.

“Henry, listen to me,” Sam said looking at his runner. The young man had a look of nearly pure fear. “Don’t worry about the numbers, it’s how they use them, and being as they’re tribals, they’re not going to be too good at fighting up face to face. You and I have both known that for awhile. They’ve never fought our patrols face to face, always sneaky and from the shadows. They won’t be able to do that out there on the walls, they’ll have to meet us face to face, and if they push us back, they’ll be bottlenecked in the tunnel, giving us the chance we would need to take them down.”

Henry nodded, a little less nervous and scared from the news, as he was before. His fist eased up, and he leaned up against the guardrail, crossing his arms.

“Besides,” Sam added, “we’ve got a contingency plan. The sappers put explosives in the tunnel, remember? If we get pushed back out of the tunnel, then it’s, ‘welcome to your new tunneled grave, tribals!’” Henry cracked a smile and finally eased up, taking a breath as Sam tucked the letter away in his vest pocket, and pulled out a cigarette.

“Regardless of all that though, I want you to send a message to the Council of Four. Ask them if we’re to begin assembling the Sections. Come back to me when you’re done.” Henry nodded and ran down the steps, hurrying to the government building.

[Jamie Moysey]

John Halsey
Whittier, AK
Whittier Outskirts
10:15 AM

John had awoken early, like he did every morning donning his usual clothes, and headed to the outskirts of town to watch the sun rise over the mountains in his favorite childhood spot. John enjoyed watching nature, or what was either left or mutated of it, which led him to become the de-facto hunter, along with his main job as the carpenter. John enjoyed his time and his life here in Whittier, but he knew of the brewing storm as did most of the town. As he watched the smoke grow closer daily, he knew the militia would soon be put to the test. Everyone's survival depended on their success...

"Aw Hell," John groaned as he shimmied back down the tree he had used as a vantage point over the area for many years in his hunting excursions, "we don't have much longer." John grabbed his trusty old hunting rifle and his bag and headed back for his shop in the middle of town. As John walked down the main stretch he nodded and gave a comforting glance to those he passed. John met up with his friend and squad mate Gavin, and they pvssyd until they reached his shop and began to work. "Hopefully the council will let us know more today, Eh?"

"Maybe so man, maybe so," replied Gavin.

[Rhiannon Jones]

Andrew Hill
Whittier,AK
Andrew's House in Whittier, AK
10:00 A.M

"Ugh..." Andrew said while he rolled over, he brought his hands to his head and ran his hands through his hair. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, letting his eye's adjust to the sunlight. He stood up and streched, leaving his bed that laid on the floor. I need a new bed. Andrew thought to himself. He turned his head to see his closet open and his armor there. He walked over to his closet and pulled out the leather armor. He put it on over the clothes he slept with and he walked towards the door.

"Hey, Andrew? We've got to guard the market today. You almost ready to go?" Said Andrew's best friend, Jason Hell. Jason walked in and saw Andrew looking at him. Andrew looked at Jason, he had his grenades on his belt and a rifle on his back. He was in his leather armor he recieved from someone that Andrew never knew.

"Yeah, just give me a mintune to get my guns. Help yourself to some nuka-cola in the fridge." Andrew said while walking past Jason, he walked into his living room and looked behind his libary. He grabbed his Assault carbine and 9mm pistol from behind it and checked the clips. He put the rifle on his back in a holster and put the pistol on his waist holster. He grabbed the two extra clips for both and stuffed them in his back pocket. Jason walked back in with two Nuka-colas and threw Andrew one. Andrew caught it with ease and said "Thanks." Andrew cracked it open and took a drink.

"Okay, the rest of the squad is in the market. Their waiting for you to assign them routes." Jason said while walking towards the door. Jason opened it and walked out into Whittier. The town they were both born in. "Ah, Whittier, you cold ass town. Only expolison warm your cold heart."

"Ain't that the truth. Anyway's let's go." Andrew said while walking out with Jason. They talked about their childhood and many other subject's before reaching the market. "But dad it's called the twist!" Andrew said while telling a joke.

"HA!" Jason laughed, "That was pretty good, but anyway's were here man. Nick's over there" Jason pointed towards Nick who was on the roof cleaning his rifle. "And the rest of them are here."

"Okay, Jason, I want you to guard the general store with Hugh and I want Dalton and Jay to walk around the outskirts. I'll be walking around making sure nothing goe's wrong. Now, let's go." He walked away from the group and started his route.

[Nathan Hunter]

James - Whittier - Morning

James watched the sun rise from behind the snow-capped mountains, for a moment he forgot about the tribals and lost himself in the rays of golden light illuminating the town. He stifled a yawn, he wasn't at his best anytime during the morning. He slung his rifle over his shoulder, If there's another attack I want to be prepared, the tribals attacks had been growing more and more frequent.

He walked out into the town, people were still milling around. As usual The Tribals were the main topic of discussion. "I heard they eat their dead, like bones and everything, stew 'em up in a pot and just eat 'em, like it's normal," one woman was telling her friends. As the threat of attack grew so did the absurdity of the stories about their enemies. It's only natural, people are trying to demonise them, I wouldn't be surprised if some of these rumors were started by the council themselves.

As he was heading to his next repair job he saw two members of his squad the Nate siblings, Jessica and Josh. "Hey James. Have you heard? Another patrol was attacked, if this goes on any longer they're going to have to mobilize the Militia."

"How much work do you two have for today? Anything urgent?"

"No, sir!" They replied together.

"You know I hate it when you do that. Round up the rest of the squad, we're going to have a little impromptu training session. Meet me back here in thirty minutes." He watched as they ran back to town, he waited for them in the courtyard in the center of town, an easy place for them to find him.

[James Rhead]

Harry was awoken by the loud – almost obnoxious – snoring of his brother Hutch in the single bed beside him. Groggily, he rolled out of bed and pulled the blinds, the splintered floorboards creaking under his lumbered steps. The morning light poured into the bedroom; Harry turned to see Hutch still sprawled across the bed.

“C’mon, get up,” Harry ordered, kicking Hutch’s leg sticking out of the bed. “We got [censored] to do.”

“Huh… what?” Hutch replied croakily. He sat up against the headboard rubbing his dried-out eyes.

“Dammit, Hutch, look at you! You shouldn’t be out drinking; you’re hanging like a [censored].” Harry rolled his eyes and pulled over his woolly jumper, while Hutch stumbled out of bed, butt naked.

“Eugh, my head,” Hutch grunted. “Pretty crazy last night.” He even let out a weak laugh.

“This isn’t funny, Hutch. [censored]’s going down here and the town needs you. I need you. We’re on call, dammit.” Harry fell back into a small armchair and let out a lengthy sigh. “This is pathetic; you’re twenty-eight. What would Pa think?” Harry paused for a moment and then his eyes widened slightly. “Speaking of Pa…”

Harry darted out of the armchair and through the old bungalow to the living room where Danny Patton, Harry and Hutch’s pa, lay slumped over the grimy couch’s armrest, drooling. Harry groaned and helped his pa sit up.

“You’re better than this, Pa; drowning your sorrows in cheap whisky ain’t you. C’mon, now.”

“Oh, sorry, son. I didn’t mean for you, well, –“

Harry waved his hand. “It’s okay, just… get yourself a glass a water or something.” Danny complied reluctantly and, after a yawn, made his way to the kitchen. He was a short, rather portly fellow, like his father before him; Harry and Hutch always wondered where they got their height from.

Checking behind him first, Harry took a swig from his pa’s whiskey bottle. God knows I needed that. He slumped into the couch and ran his hands through his hair. Stressed was an understatement, for Harry. Ever since his pa’s caravan went out of business, the old guy had lost just about everything but his heart – and even that was failing, literally and metaphorically speaking. Heart-breaking, really. A few years ago he might’a been eligible for the militia. He’d fight all right. Oh, he’d fight.

Harry’s face lit up a little at the sight of his Alaskan husky Rosie walking through the archway to the living room. “Here, girl!” he whistled her over. Rosie’s ears perked and she bounded over to Harry, licking his face. “Who’s a good girl? You are! Yes, you are! Okay, okay, off the face, off the face!” Harry laughed and gently pushed Rosie off him and the couch to the floor, where she sat at his feet. He turned to face Hutch, who was standing in the doorway.

“You’re dressed? Good, let’s go.” Harry stood, careful not to knock Rosie.

“Bro, my head is freakin’ killing me. Can we please give it an hour or two?” Hutch pleaded, holding a cold flannel to his head?”

“Are you out of your mind?” Harry asked, genuinely shocked. “Look, if you’re head’s that bad, then go to the clinic and get the doc to prescribe you somethin’ with a bit more kick. But we’ve got to get you a new weapon – and you’re a fickle bastard, so that’ll take some time. If we piss around too long all the good ones will be gone; they’re selling fast, for obvious reasons. My squad isn’t gonna be lagging behind, understood?”

Hutch sighed. “Yes, sir,” he said with a sarcastic salute.

“Good. I’ma check on Pa first. Go get your shoes on.” Hutch complied without much resistance.

“Ah, don’t you worry about me, sonny,” said Danny from behind. “You and your brother just get out there and give those [censored] loin-cloth barbarians hell! Patton style!” Danny let out a wheezy laugh and gave his son a hearty shove toward the door. “Go, go!”

“All right, all right. You just take care, yeah?”

“Just go!” Danny exclaimed.

“Right, going.” Harry addressed Rosie before he left. “Later, girl!”

Rosie replied with a single bark. Satisfied, Harry slung his Mossberg over his back and shut the rickety door. He basked in the sunshine for a brief moment. The air was cold and unforgiving, but the sight of the lake glistening in the sunlight always raised his spirits.

“Right,” Harry said to Hutch. “You get your messy self sorted out at the clinic, then meet me at the store. I’ll be getting some repairs done and browsing for your new weapon. Take too long and I’ll choose it myself, so don’t piss about.”

“Fine, in a bit, then,” Hutch replied.

The two went their separate ways. It didn’t take long before Harry heard townsfolk chatting about an ambushed patrol – the anxiety could be felt on everyone. Apparently, however, there were no fatal casualtie. Harry clenched his fists and cussed inwardly. [censored]’s about to hit the fan… Better get the team assembled and soon.

[Lauren Graves]

Wesley Cook - Clinic [10.50A]

Unfortunately, Wesley was already awake working on his injury log. Since the first battle he had been keeping tabs on anyone that had been injured and what their ailments were. Mostly bullet wounds, the ocasional shrapnel, and some nasty lacerations for those who had gotten too close. He kept it in order to make sure he had the right prescription for the right people, and it was the easiest way to find out who was who in the small town. It was boring work, but it was better than what was out there. He knew he had to get ready to leave some time soon though, but with intentions to head out to his house and pick up Sebastian. He picked up his rifle and other gear from his dresser and suited up before heading out.

On his way out he walked past two rifleman smoking and talking, both walking fully armored.

"Something goin' on today fellas?" He inquired.

"Yeah, there's been a new field call. Squad members supposed to party up." The piggy-backed off each other, trading sentences in response to Wesley's question.

"Where are we to be garrisoned? And what for?"

"Don't know, sorry."

"Yeah, orders just issued, all we have to do for the time being is grab our gear and get together."

Wesley was already on his way to his old house, where his family still lived. The door was unlocked, as was every door in Whittier. Locks had long since deteriorated from the frame, and there's nothing for a robber to steal even if he wanted something. Wesley entered the room, walking past the living room into the back, where his mom and pop were. His dad was laying at the bed, as he'd been every day for the past few months. Wesley hasn't seen him in any other place in the house since. He doubted if the old man's eroded leg muscles would even be strong enough to support him. He walked over to his mom and hugged her and kissed her cheek.

"Hey ma, you know if Sebastian's up yet?"

"Ahhh, I don't know, that homme fatigué, he's downstairs." She responded in her French-Canadian accent. Wesley headed for the door to the basemant, opened it, and shouted out "Sebastian, let's go, field call!" He walked back to a counter and leaned on it, placing te ACOG sight on his rifle while waiting for his little brother of ten years to come up.

[Stephanie Nieves]

Samuel Plainview
Whittier - Plainview Manor
11:10AM

Some time passed as Sam waited Henry’s return, his attention was turned to the beauty of the land while he waited, looking over to the town as well to see some people going about their business. It was hard times in Whittier now, especially since the caravan’s had ceased their route, and diverted to the other towns in the area, probably uninhibited much by the roaming tribal war parties that were no doubt out there, looking for Whittier Militia members to ambush rather than a caravan to knock over for supplies, just as they had the night before.

The thought really got to Sam, as he lit himself a fresh cigarette and started pacing a bit on his porch. But then the sound of quick footsteps caught his attention.

“Another letter, sir,” Henry said running over, and waving it in his hand.

“Good,” Sam said stepping down from his porch to take it.

Henry handed it to him, and caught his breath as Sam opened and read the letter from the Council of Four. To his surprise, they weren’t looking to assemble the Section’s just quite, but the possibility was definitely up for debate by the tone and wording of their letter. When Sam finished, he folded it back up and tucked it into his pocket, taking a slight drag off his cigarette, and blowing the smoke out his nostrils.

“Well,” he said calmly, “it looks like the Council isn’t ready to bring the Section’s to full strength, so we’re going to just have to sit on our hands until they call.”

“You mean we’re not going to go check out the pack of tribals?” Henry asked a bit displeased.

“Don’t be so eager to fight, Henry, we’re not up for assaulting them, we haven’t got the manpower in the militia alone, to attack them. It’s why we’re defending the town, and just patrolling the outskirts, rather than forting up out there.”

“Guess you’re right,” Henry said scratching his chin and pulling out a nuka-cola from his back pocket. “Anything else you need from me?”

“No, I think you’re okay to go do your thing. But just be ready if I come calling, understand?”

“Always, sir,” Henry said finishing the rest of his nuka-cola before rushing off to town.

Sam smiled and dropped his cigarette, rubbing it out with the toe of his shoe, before walking back into his home, lighting another. The wind was starting to pick up, and getting colder as it blew off the top of the mountains, and came down along the small inland coast. Sam grabbed his coat, and figured he’d best head onto main street and the market area to see what the news was, and maybe grab something to eat at the saloon and diner.

When he got to main street, the town’s people were going all about their business. Some were talking about militia duties, others about the tribals, and some were going on about the latest rumors and gossip, most of which pertained to the talk about tribals and their ways. But Sam just ignored it all, smiling and greeting people as they passed by and smiled or greeted him, going about their business.

As he walked, he passed the local general store and noticed a couple of men from his Section, under the command of Andrew Hill. They were busy guarding the general store, and quickly noticed Sam as he approached.

“How’s it going fellas?” He asked.

They both saluted and seemed a bit surprised Sam would talk to them. He figured it was his rank in the militia that made them nervous.

“Fine sir,” one of them said. Sam couldn’t remember their names, but they sure knew his.

“Working late today, or just getting on?” Sam asked.

“Just starting,” the other one said.

“Where’s Group Leader Hill?” Sam asked, taking a quick glance around.

“Patrolling, sir.”

“Oh, alright, that’s good to hear. I’ll leave you boys to it then.”

The two smiled and gave swift salutes as Sam gave a quick one back as well, and turned to the saloon. Inside the saloon, there wasn’t very many people, the place was nearly dead. And by the sound, one could have sworn they were in a graveyard if it hadn’t been for the low volumed radio playing some music.

“Ah, Sam, how’s it going?” The owner, Lionel, asked putting away a cleaned glass.

“How about some breakfast, huh? Make it a beer and caribou steak.” Lionel nodded and passed the information to his cook, as Sam took a seat by himself at one of the tables.

[Janeth Valenzuela Castelo]

At Harry’s brisk pace, it didn’t take him long to reach the general store. He nodded and smiled at the two guards, who he instantly recognised as Jason Hell and Hugh Jackson. Even though he would have liked to, Harry didn’t stop to chat and carried on into the store.

The shopkeeper looked up from the counter at the ding of the door chime. “Mornin’, Harry!” he said cheerily. “Anything you need?”

“Not this instant. But I will need to take a look at your weapons inventory when Hutch gets here from the clinic.”

“The clinic?” the shopkeeper replied quizzically.

“Don’t even get me started,” Harry said dismissively. “Hey, is Bob back there?”

At that moment, a short black man in dirty coveralls stepped out from the store’s workshop and into the doorway behind the counter, a wide grin on his face. Bob Mahoney was Harry’s combat engineer on the field and a wizard at repairs, but, more importantly, one of Harry’s closest friends. His optimistic demeanour and jovial deportment kept Harry in high spirits. Known for his adventurous side, he earned the crude nickname “Ballsy”.

“Harry, my man! What’s good?” Bob asked as he removed his gloves and approached Harry.

“Hah, not much, if I’m honest. Hutch was on the piss last night and because he hasn’t been coming to you for weapon maintenance, we’ve got to buy him a new rifle. And by “we” I mean “me” – I’m the one paying for the damn thing. After all those cheap hokers, he’s [censored] skint.”

Bob chuckled, “Aww, man. That reminds me of that time he proposed to that Clarissa [censored]. Brilliant.”

Harry shook his head, “Tsst, Tragic’s more like it. [censored] profligacy is what it is. I can’t believe Pa never found out about that.”

“Heh, yeah. How is the old guy, anyway? Danny, I mean.”

“Like [censored]. He hasn’t been the same since the caravan went out of business. He just sits on that couch all day. It’s sad, really. At least he’s good company for Rosie.”

“Ah, well I’m sure he’ll back to his old ways when we start kicking some tribal ass, eh?” Bob said comfortingly. “Oh, damn, speaking of that, did you hear about that ambushed patrol? The one that got attacked last night?”

“Yeah, it’s the word of the day. No one died, but still; we shouldn’t be sittin’ on our asses like this. We should be taking the fight to those… vile savages.” Harry exhaled. “Bah, no point complaining; Pa’s sent countless letters to the mayor. He probably doesn’t even read them anymore. Anyway,” Harry paused as he pulled his Mossberg over his shoulder, “I need some repairs on the ol’ shotty. Just general stuff; you know what to do.”

"Cool, I’m on it. Free of charge for you, bud,” Bob said with a friendly wink.

“No, I’m not having any of that,” Harry said insistently. “These are hard times and you always earn your caps.”

Harry tried to force a bag of caps into Bob’s hand, but Bob pushed them back into Harry’s with considerably more force.

“Exactly,” Bob said. “These are hard times and there are people out there at the butt end of all this mess. Like your pa, man. Those caps should pay for at least another week’s dosage of medicine for him.”

Harry smiled. “I love you, you know that?” he said and jokingly kissed Bob on his forehead.

“Ah, lay off it!” Bob pushed Harry away, himself giggling rather like a school girl.

“Am I interrupting something?” said a voice from the shop’s entrance.

Harry turned to see Hutch with a mocking grin. “So, you’re all sorted?”

“As good as I can be. You found me anything yet? Oh, hey, Bob.”

“Hey, man,” Bob said before addressing Harry. “I’ll be finished in twenty minutes or so. Stick around.”

Harry nodded but remained focused primarily on Hutch. “Anyway, yeah, look for yourself,” Harry said as he gestured to the gun wall.

Hutch scanned the wall with his eyes momentarily before pointing at an M4A1 which appeared to be in near enough mint-condition. “That one.”

Harry cringed inwardly at the price tag but refrained from any sarcasm; he wanted nothing but the best for his squad - and that was especially true in the case of his brother.

“All right, good choice,” Harry said as he tentatively lifted the rifle off the wall.

The two paid for the M4 (using a fairly large bag of caps) and made their way to the old park benches by the lake, to wait for Bob to finish with Harry’s Mossberg.

[Rachel Hall]

Wesley Cook - Humble Abode [11.10A]

His brother entered te living-room with half of a carrot sticking out of his mouth, the green cap still on it, dark brown hair left curly and unfurled. His hair came from his mother's side. Wesley didn't acquire such . . . assets. He took from his father. Sebastian on other side was spoiled with good hair, good looks, and a good life. Wesley was glad that he hadn't really endured struggle or sacrifice, that he was born here in Whittier, and not back in the wild merciless Canada. Sebastian wouldn't be the same, he would be different.

More like me, Wesley thought.

Another good trait he received from his mother was the ability to cook some good food. He cold somehow manage to make squirrel stew exquisite. No thanks to the miniature garden he ran downstairs where he did his real hobby; farming. Kind of odd for a farm in an apocalypse, especially when the crops were in your basemant, but to each's own. This was the reason Wesley wasn't surprised to see a carrot in his mouth.

"You know, you would make so much more money if you didn't eat your merchandise."

"Well, considering how much I got down there," Wesley spoke with the carrot still in his mouth, which made the stalk bob violently. "Plus, I won't be working all too much what with me being a soldier now." He said, smirking. Wesley shook his head in minor frustration. If it was up to him, Sebastian wouldn't so much as shoot darts, but he was a man, and he made a man's decision, so Wesley at least ensured that Sebastian would work under him. Today couldn't have been more than his sixth day on the militia.

"You're not a soldier, you are a militiaman. Soldiers are trained for war, as an occupation and not a part-time requirement."

"Whatever, I still get to shoot [censored]."

"S'il vous plait, les garcons. Language!"

Wesley gave him a look of annoyance. "Time to go, anyway. Bye ma!"

With that the two left out and headed towards the defense line.(BOA)

"Let's head to the front of the town. Nashville's no doubt out there riddling some poor rock with .50 cal rounds."

[Soraya Davy]

Alice - 8:15AM - Country Side House

Towards out on the far country side, away from the main city a small lodge built upon a few generations of people was occupied with a new resident.

Alice, they called her, what she called herself. She was typically new, yes, not entirely though a stranger to war. Afterall, its bowls laid out all around her rusting and detelerating. The rust of the new world was ever present. Its crushing blow to the throat of society, still present to this very day. No, not in the landscape, or surroundings, but in the people. By people - the mutated and disfigured. Those disabled by the waves of radiation. While America chose the wealthy and those presistant, it shunned itself away from those outside. Some, disbelievers, others.. weak.. poor.. defenseless once the bombs fell. Then after that, anarchy, chaos, destruction and war of cities, and they never bothered opening their doors to help those in need. Those dieing or worse. Suppose that the Old World only had time for the believers.


'So where does that put me?'


She asked herself those simple words, to simple, with no simple answer. Awoken on the side of her bed, peering up into the roof of the room, as achy wood creeked and crackled with every shift of movment, of balance, just like it had done the millions of times before. She tried to remain silent, but the wood gave her away - startled her thought. She often when she awoke gave herself these small fifteen minute spaces of void process or thought, before starting her day. Thought through what she did the day before, how it would effect her now, thought about the choices of ones centuries ago, and the outcome of now. For, she did not want to make the same mistakes the Old World had favored. The most among those being favoritest, the wealthy and famous. As they let the farmers - the ones who fed them - parish. Surely. Upon reaching her desinated fifteen minute mark, the answer she came up with was the most typical and often one.

'Suppose I'm just a survivor,'

She with that, answered her question, to an extent, it did not make her happy, in any way, it did not unfamish her dieing need to be a somebody among nobodies. But who was she to think that? Nobody.. just like everyone else... just another survivor of nothing but destruction. She knew too, that sooner or later, destruction catches up, and that was when you die.

svcking in her breath, despite the air being cold, a small fire in the fireplace kept it from being completely like the outside, maybe even microwave it to a worse condition. Hold it up. But she knew she had a job to do, so that was what she did.

A few minutes after the fifteen mark, she mocked a sit-up lifting her spine to get her nose just close towards her knees, repeated a few times, before getting up and releasing herself from the grazing of going up and down on her shoulder bones. Opening her mouth wide, departing the jaws, she allowed herself to yawn, as she looked around and began to change and gather her things for the daily run. A ten mile hike up a mountain trail, it was fairly steep in some points, took a while, only problem that being was the tribals. She afterall spend most of her time on the outskirts or here tightying up her home room, her den, to avoid getting nervous from those such tribals. She didn't ever think they'd make it past the cave.. if they did, well, boom. Simple. Or was it? That was the only way in or out, she knew this, and to explode it would most defadently kill everyone here. Only way in, for Tribals, only way out for caraavans, who typically seemed to avoid the small town, with the tribals, and the bitter cold, it was frostbite to the head waiting to happen.

After doing her typical chores, she gathered her leather fur coat and began to trot out, eventually, in which, she felt a sly uneasy feeling, as though being stalked.

Ever so often, her hair on the back of her neck stood upright, as her gut twintched, one point in time she could swear she saw a shadow overlapping hers. She of course, quickly dismissed it as paranoya from the tribals.

Nether the less, in due time she reached the beginning of the trail. Where she would decent to the summit of a ridge that had a perfect view of the city, as well as some lakes. With her, was a male, his name; Kim.

Kim was an average fello, quite, didn't talk much, was an expert too at making pesamestic quotas. If you didn't know better you'd take him to be some sort of POW or Vet from the war. Nether the less, with a nod they started their decent to the semi-summit.

Along the way, she felt that ever present gaze along her spine. It irritated her, tore away at her skin it seemed, it was either the paranoid senses going off, or it was the cold, numbing away at it like bat saliva before it milked you of blood. Milked, that was how she felt.. being used.. couldn't explain it better. She didn't say anything though except for mindless conversation until she was about two and a half up the trail. She didn't say anything then until mostly because she watched him, he didn't show a sign of it.

"Hey man.. some one.. I dunno.. feel like we're being watched? Or is it only me?" She twitched at the words some what, her muscles tense like they'd been the whole way, unable to rest from such paranoice.

"I knew you seemed uneasy... " He spoke roughly, as he looked and peered about,"Don't seem like human, might be a animal checking us out. Oh well, nothing we can't handle." He ensured, but Alice didn't completely rest just because his words.

When God gives you the blessing of being warned, you listen, and you prepare. That was what she did.

For the rest of the walk, she didn't talk, or continue in her mindless convos with him. They was pointless, for some reason, it was as though they didn't need too. They just connected in a form of telepath.

Alice - 10:42AM - Mountan Summit

Upon reaching her destination, the summit, she sat down uneasyily as she gazed out afar towards the city. The sun was fairly high by now, and with it's embrace it warmed up the earth, it's radiant beauty now still present, despite the ash and rust the war left behind. She called the world at that time still The Old World, before the war, and before the bombs even had a possability of falling. Back when men where gentlemen, and some weren't not all killers.She never the less, remained silent, and gazed out.

Though, she left her guard down, and with a suddle burst she jolted her head over her shoulder, left then right, right then left, uneasyily almost standing upstraight, she glared into the pines just behind on the opposite side of the trail. Easy consealment for any ambushing Tribals, she addressed that the first day she got up here.

"Don't tell me its eating away at you too... " Kim said forlornly, as he stopped gnawing on his sandwitch he brought.

"What?" Alice asked with the hint of annoyance - not at Kim - but towards those bushes.

"You don't know?"

"What the Hell do you think?" Alice spoke uneasy, cursing was a irregular thing for her, but the whole trip she felt different and uneasy.

Her words were met by a silent glare that said it all to her, the words were primarily an asset.

"A group of soldiers were attacked the morning.. " He said below breath, in front of his face the still frozen to an extent air moleicules cooled to match the air, expressing that action through a form of mist.

"Did-"

"No, the Tribals disbanded before anyone was killed, injuried, yes.. killed, thankfully not." Kim said, as he took a small chunk out of his sandwitch.

Upon the conversation, it triggered a chain reaction to her.

"Awe man... " She said as she shifted off the leg of the small wooden picnic area she placed herself upon.

"Right.. you gotta go to the Clinic." Kim said, with yet another exhail of breath, this time in the shape of a sigh, so it lingered a little longer hoovering above and in front of his features.

Quickly, she was off. He in persuit of her, leaving behind his sandwitch, ironically.

[anna ley]

Dylan 10.30

The Nate siblings took longer than he had expected to return with the team and the Alaskan cold had begun to nip at his extremities. "Sorry we took so long boss, Cub here was otherwise occupied." Josh winked as he explained, Jess's cheeks flushed a bright red. "We found him keeping unsavory company." Josh was holding Jacob down by his ear. "He was a little reluctant to come with us."

"Let him go Josh." As he commanded Josh let go of his ear, the boy straightened out rubbing his now very red ear. "We can't blame him for finding someone to help him warm himself against this harsh cold now can we?" He reached into his pocket extracting a beaten packet of cigarettes and a steel lighter, he quickly lit one up. If he was honest he didn't enjoy them as much as he used to but he considered them a part of his image now. "So," he sent a long stream of smoke above the heads his squad, "the tribals are rallying again, the militia is all that stands between them and the city."

"No offence boss but we know all this. Can we hurry this up so I can get back to my girl." It was cub, his ear still glowing.

"Not yet. You might know all this but what have you done about it?" He looked around the squad, "We need to be at our peak when they get here, from now on you will do as much exercise as you can, jogging and other cardio" he winked at Jacob. "We are going to be the best damn squad in the Militia." He lifted his hand to a one finger salute "Dismissed." His five man troop returned the gesture, turned on their heels and left.

His stomach made an angry growl. "Perhaps some breakfast." he started lazily making his way towards the saloon in town.

11.20

After being waylaid several times along the way James finally made it to the saloon. It was quieter than he'd been expecting. "Hey Lionel, scotch please mate." he threw some caps down on the bar as he sat on one of the stools. Lionel swept the caps up as he placed a tumbler of scotch in front of James. The whisky was a new development, he'd never really drunk much but the cold air seemed to enhance the flavor. Across the room he spotted Sam Plainview, he grabbed his scotch and carried it over to the commander.

"Good Morning sir, Any news from up high yet?"

[Stacey Mason]

10:41 11:10

Alice - 11:05 - Nearing the Clinic

Alice along side Kim to accompany her was nearing the town of Whittier, the looming paranoince vanished with the rash thought of having to get to the clinic. Speeding inbetween the trees, dashing back and forth as she slid by, jumping over thorn bushes and dodging the trees. Traveling through the outback was relativly easy for her, since she and her generations of family members had learned to travel through the outback. Keen spots that showed where thorn bushes where, ideal clues that depicted what laid over the herizon. She didn't have to be told these things, it was in her blood to know. Blood, that was one day bound to be spilt. Rather it be by the enemy - a friendly fire - or like so many others.. their own hand.

It was by far less easy to travel like so to Kim, it was unnatural for him. He had been raised in a populated city south of here, and traveled here as a mercenary to a pack of caravaans. Eventually, he couldn't bare himself to part. Thus, he left his companions go ahead, continue the road that may or may not ever end, it was uncertant what was around the corner - rather it be a steep fall - or a cliff - or a friendly community. It was just to uncertant for him to continue he supposed. Nether the less, grown weary of the road, he settled in Whittier. Come the time to show his possability to them, he joined their army - their milita. Since, he had been with two other grunt groops. Along side Jerome. But, that didn't matter now. What did matter, was making sure this group stayed alive. Especially, since there was brothers in this group.. kin.. blood brothers. Ready to spill one another's blood for what ever means necessary.

Struting, legs stiff from the cold, her head facing forward as a white hollow wind of nothing but void frozen air burst through the leather and fur on Alice's body, as she struted forth into the town, was only greeted by trading of glances and the worrying voices of fellow citizens that made it's announcment through gossip.

Some cannibilism, others barbanic behavior, among the women spurred a often occurence in this world of theirs.

Woman slavery. Something of an often browsation among women. History, showed how often. Athens of Greek, not slavery to that, more of merriage slavery. Other things like that, was often in this world. Most of which where just communties that made their names through slavery, as so often the case. For what ever reason.

These spectulations especially troubled her, but that was all they was.. right? Spectulations? She - and the women of Whittier, preyed to a god who may or may not be up there. Their results? None exhistant. But among the gossip, out of the shallow screams unhearable to the rest, only by her, she heard a whisper among the voices.

"I heard a few of those soldiers were hurt... bad.. especially one."

This, put a pep into her step, as the sight of an male figure, tall, thick muscled, and as always - with the girls.

"Jerome!" Alice spoke sharply, as Jerome pulled off of one of the - no - one of the many girls he was courting.

"Hey girl!" Jerome greated, in return, only met by a glare, behind him, a glare turning towards Alice of the girl he was talking to. "Ignore her." Jerome added on, as the girl rolled her eyes and trotted away.

The rashness of getting to the clinic was interupted as she glared at him, additude short.

"Dude, really? Don't you remember what happened last time you was dating more then one woman?"

"What? Its all fine!"

"Oh really? What happened to Alexus?"

"Oh that [censored]? Not me man..."

"And Alliana?"

"Sh-"

"What about Jane?"

"Well sh-"

"Don't lie."

A moment of silence from the woman, as she turned to glare at Jerome, her eyes wide and her arms crossed

"Womanizer!"

"Tell me about it." Spoke Alice as the woman trotted off.

"Hey! HEY! Wait up!" Jerome pulled his shoulder off the building that he leaned upon, and stumbled, acted sloppyly, he made the mistake of turning to look at Kim and Alice.

"Jerome! Are you DRUNK?"

"No!"

Before Alice could shout again, Kim tugged shortly on her shoulder, and pulled her off the conversation. Ownly to flip her head back around and glare as well as lip a few words


'I will talk to you later.' it spoke.


And off she was again, as she trotted down the road and stayed outside for a few seconds catching her breath. The morning air was still crisp.. so as she steadied her heart rate, she finished off with a deep intake of breath, holding it oh so long, letting it linger in her lungs and extract all the oxejin it could, before letting it out, again, a small silvery line of especially thick mist lingered around. as she leaned up against the side of it, she panted, Kim still right at her side.

[Shaylee Shaw]

There wasn't much notable discourse between Harry and Hutch as they sat by the lake, waiting for Bob to finish working on the shotgun. Harry was too busy thinking about the recent ambush. There has to be a follow up; it only makes sense. Morale here is at an all-time low - I know if it were me on their side, I'd be prepping for a full-scale attack right about now. They're probably consolidating their forces this moment, and yet the Council does nothing. Not even any lousy defensive fortifications, 'cept that [censored] tunnel - and that's a last resort. Harry clapped his hands and stood up from the bench. Whatever the case, I need to round up the team.

"I'd say Bob's done by now," Harry said to Hutch. "Make your way to the saloon, have something to eat, and wait for me there. I'm gonna get the team together for a little training session, so tell Alice to gear up; she should be there at his time."

"Then it's just the misfits left, correct?" Hutch remarked insolently.

"Hey, watch your mouth. Leon and Paul are valuable members of our team. More so than you, I dare say."

Hutch scoffed. "Leon? Valuable? That pansy ass couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. His gun may as well be a damp cloth."

"Can it, Hutch, and just do what I said. I'll meet at the saloon in five. Try not to piss of Alice while you're there, yeah?"

"Whatever, man," Hutch said curtly.

Harry watched Hutch for a moment as he strutted off towards the saloon. Dammit, he can be such a [censored] sometimes. Pa never did spank him hard enough. Trying to remain focused on the bigger picture, Harry cancelled the thought and made his way back to the general store, where a shop assistant was cleaning the windows, and Bob stood chatting with the shopkeeper behind the counter.

"You all finished up?" Harry called to Bob at the sound of the door chime.

"Yep, this bad boy's ready for action. I wish I could stay and chat but I gotta job. Blast some heads for me, brother!" Bob shouted with a fist pump as he turned back to his workshop.

"Bob, wait." Bob peeked back round the door, an eyebrow cocked. "I was just thinking about last night's ambush, and I reckon it might be a precedent for something... bigger. I dunno, it's just an inkling. In any event, I want us ready. I think a training session today would be beneficial. Nothing too intense, but we have to keep up."

"Say no more, baby, I'm all yours." Bob then looked to the shopkeeper. "Tell that young honey from earlier, she'll have to wait. Duty calls!"

"That's what I like to hear!" Harry said, enthused. "And besides, I wouldn't be blasting any heads without you, anyway, would I?"

"That you wouldn't, that you wouldn't. I'll get my [censored] together now."

"All right, I'll be at the saloon with Hutch and Alice. See you in a bit."

Harry exchanged goodbyes with Bob and briskly walked through to the chill to the saloon, hands shoved deep into his pockets. The cold was nasty but not intolerable. What was unbearable was the forlorn air about the town. What were once bold prospectors could be found lying on the streets - their only source of income having been denied to them. They couldn't find jobs as hands in stores or down the marina because no one had the means to pay them, so they took to begging and in some more lamentable circumstances, thievery. The children of Whittier didn't even seem to enjoy playing anymore; often, the case was they were too busy crying about their daddy or mommy who had been killed by a tribal war party. Whittier's streets were deprived of all positivity, to be replaced by despondency. And that will be irrevocable if we don't make a stand, and soon.

Harry adopted a more affable deportment and pushed through the saloon's flimsy doors. Hutch and Alice were talking at the bar, and Harry caught sight of Section Commander Plainview with James, a group leader, at a table. Harry gave them a pleasant wave and walked over to Hutch and Alice.

"Hey, Alice," Harry greeted. "You doing all right?"

Alice slid off her bar stool and gave Harry a friendly hug. "Yeah, not bad. Last night was a little hectic, no thanks to your brother here. But I'm sure he's told you all about that?"

"He has. Or at least he's told me enough," Harry said, looking at Hutch sternly, as a father would his boy who'd been caught red-handed.

"Yeah, well, let's just say it's amazing Lionel hasn't made him pay damage reparations."

Harry looked over his shoulder to if Plainview was watching.

"Damage reparations? Idiot, Hutch." Harry slapped Hutch on the back of the head, truthfully hoping no one would notice. "Anyway," he said, focusing back on Alice. "You're all kitted up, so I'm guessing you know what's up?"

"Yes, amid his corny chat-up lines, Hutch briefed me on the plan. Can I just say, 'thank you'. Anything to get me of this dump is greatly appreciated. I swear, each day I have to put up with more of those... disgusting drunken reprobates. Did I tell you that one was sick on me the other day... just as he tried to kiss me!"

"I've told you before; you bring those guys to me. I'll show 'em what's [censored] what," Harry said, almost forcefully. He heard Hutch's jeering laugh.

"And I've told you not to treat me like a little girl. Did I neglect to mention that I broke the [censored]'s nose?"

Harry smiled. "You did, but I take your word for it.

Like many of Whittier's townsfolk, Alice was also detrimentally affected by recent events. She had always worked the saloon as an entertainer, but the passion for her line of work was rooted in its prospecting side. Alice would scour old pre-war buildings for musical instruments, holotapes and, occasionally, sheetbooks. Her scouting abilities favoured her endeavours and, more recently, they have provided invaluable in the war against the tribals. In time, she became a crack shot, hence Harry's decision to designate her squad marksman. Physically, she wasn't anything remarkable (her beautiful red hair aside), but her singing voice was divine, and Harry found great pleasure in her performances, even if her 'off-stage' demeanour was much more crude.

"So," Hutch said. "Who or what are we waiting for?"

"Just Bob," Harry replied. "He'll be here any minute."

[Elisabete Gaspar]

Mayor James Poke
Government Building - Mayor’s Office
11:20AM

The room was calm and still, as Mayor Poke quietly sat at his office desk, looking out the window that peered to the town. From his office, he could see everything, which made everyone in town jokingly call him a “God,” for the view. But suddenly, as he sat there looking out, the calm and quiet was interrupted by the sudden swinging of his doors.

“Mayor!” A man said rushing in. In his hand, was small paper.

“What is it Daniel?” Mayor Poke asked turning around.

“Message sir, directly from the front just a couple minutes ago.”

The news caught the Mayor’s attention quickly, he knew right away that it could be nothing else but what he feared most. Dozens of thoughts raced through his mind, as he took the paper in hand and started looking over it.

“My god,” he said in a low shocked voice. “Does anyone in town know about this?”

“No sir, no one but you. It was brought straight from the front to this office. What is it?” Daniel asked.

“How could the patrols have missed something like this, so late?” He looked to Daniel with a stern agitated face, yet fear also showed. “Who did we have out on patrol? Who’s Section?”

“Plainview’s I think? Wait, no, not his. Tweed’s, I think? Yeah, it was Philip Tweed’s Section out patrolling. They took over for Randolph’s Section after a squad of his got ambushed, remember?”

“Has anyone else seen this letter?” Daniel shook his head. “Then listen to me closely Daniel, you have to get all of this, and I can’t sit here wasting time repeating myself.”

“Yes sir, I understand,” Daniel said knowing that the worst was about to be said.

“Send a messenger each to find Plainview, Randolph, and Tweed. I don’t care what they’re doing, I don’t care where they are or where they’re going for the day, I want them found immediately. Tell the messengers their message to the men, is this: ‘Prepare the Section’s immediately, this is not a test. Gather all the Groups in their Sections, and meet at the front line wall. Bring every box of ammunition, every rifle that can be spared to defend the front. The Tribals are finally making their move.’”

Daniel quickly wrote down everything the Mayor said, ending the message with a quick tap on his page as he rushed out of the room to find the messengers. He didn’t have to look far, a trio of them were already standing around together chatting about something.

“You three!” Daniel exclaimed, catching their attention and everyone’s around them.

“What is it?” One of them asked.

“You’re on duty, so jot this down quickly, it’s for the Section Commanders.”

The messengers nodded and pulled out their own pad of paper and pencil. Quickly, Daniel relayed the message to the messengers, double checking to make sure they got it before sending them off to find the three Section Commanders. Time was running out . . . time had run out, Whittier was about to lay it’s hand, and everyone would be there to see if it was a good or a bad hand.

[Matt Fletcher]

11:10 - Jerome Elijha - Household

Jerome trotted down the line of houses, his brown colored eyes darting between the houses as he bypassed others. Oblivious of the news. He just kept trotting along, his head turning left, then right, left, then right, in an ever so pattern of untapped motion. Sliding past blocks upon blocks, until he finally reached his settlement, Section 1, house 122... as he gazed upon it and his undamaged lawn - the envy of the housing section - he couldn't help but to pull his lip back to a frail smile, as he began to trot up his drive way.

Out from behind the wood door, as it opened, a seven year old boy. African American, lean, and hyper. Upon his father's arrival, he jumped up and down steadily and anxiously. His hands planted on the translucent glass, as he gibbered up and down until his father had opened the door, greeted by a wide open hug, and silence. Wrapping his arm's around his son's shoulders, he did a typical bear hug and lifted his son off the ground, spinning some what playfully as he fell back onto the couch. His son looked at him happily as he slid off his lap, and smiled real wide.

"Dad!" He smiled, as his feet planted against the ground.

"Son... " Elijha Jerome muttered as he leaned forward.

"Why didn't you come home last night?"

"Things... son... things... "

"Well.. I suppose your home now!" The boy smiled as he re-planted his arms on his father's shoulders.

Jerome solemnly looked over the boys shoulder through the door window, blinking his brown eyes as he got up and set the boy down upon the ground. Walking over, he placed his hand on the side of the door, and peered out the glass.

A beautiful lawn, a wonderful son, a great house... what more was there to ask? Simple. Really. A mother to his son. All he ever really wanted was a wife and mother to his son. Not one.. disloyal.. like the last. Hanging his head from his shoulders dimly, he placed his gaze upon his feet as his grip on the side of the door loosened. His son, glared. Issac.. his son.. glared at his father in a moment of bewilderment. He'd waited all night for his father to return home to him, yet as so often the case he didn't.

Jerome took a deep breath, and exhaled, as he lifted his head to look towards the sky. Another moment of silence, as he looked afar into the bypassing clouds. Then, he shook his head, and shut the door.

Alice - 11:10 - Clinic

Sitting in a ball like position, her legs pulled close to her chest and her head laid out on her knees as she looked out to the passer byes. Her green eyes darting between one, then the other, as she waited blissfully. Kim, next to her, leaned up against the clinic side and too examined those going by. Examining their state of hardship, listening to the mumbles and gossip among the crowd.

The crowd favored crude words, rather it be about the tribals, or one another. Nether the less - hard words - hard hearts. Alice began to think about the often topic in her mind; The Old World. Questioning things like what it was like... times of bliss and unification.

I wonder if they ever had a time period where there wasn't war.. were there wasn't death, or blood. For there to be complete tranquility. A nation of tranquility and bliss.

How she wished and preyed it to be that simple.. it never was.. never would be.. never could be. It was simple nature, domination, like dogs, they always had to test the dominants and leaders for weaknesses, and if they uprooted or discovered of otherwise estimated a weakness, they'd pry at it. They would pull it apart. Until a new establishment was renewed. Rather they remained the dominant or not, was depending on how deep they got.. and one's outcome. Then, she began to wonder about what would of happened.. what went wrong?

With their tanks, and their bombs, why couldn't we stop? Why couldn't we just cherish the fact that we were still alive? Resources? If we could of got our head out of the clouds and seen just what was going to happen - what predicament - we are now in.. would they of grouped together and *shared* or would they continue at the others throat just.. like.. dogs.. Then, the civilians and soldiers, just pigs sent to slaughter by the war.

Then, she realized the answer was simple, it wasn't a matter of "would we of stopped" but "could we of stopped?"


~*~
Henry Jones - 11:15 - Nearing Clinic

Henry had appeared from around the corner, and trotted towards them. His hands in his pockets and his clothes typically skinny around the skin. His blonde hair flashing and reflecting in a way against the sun's radiant arrays of light. As he looked down at Alice who was laid out in a ball upon the ground - her back against the clinic and her legs pulled tight - she shifted her head off her knees to gleam back up at Henry. Bliss, between the two, all that was needed. Henry's features shone with a question mark type of personality. As Alice glared at him with a void expression as a return. Kim, entered phase and after a quick turn between Alice, and Henry, he looked back at Henry, and spoke.

"S'up little bro." Commented Kim.

"Nothing.. really.. " Henry broke the stare to look at Kim.

"Hows training?"

"Not bad.. not bad... " Henry muttered.

"Seen Jerome or "Killometer"

"Jerome was heading to his house, as far as I know Siento is AWOL."

Kim and Alice both continued staring.

"Good to know... good.. to.. know.. Command?"

"Nothing yet."

[Betsy Humpledink]

Andrew Hill
Market
11:20 A.M

Andrew walked through the market and towards the store. He saw his friend Jason standing next to Hugh. Both of them saluted Andrew and Andrew said "At ease, Hugh, I need you to walk my route. I'll switch you. Make sure you talk to Dalton and Jay. Tell them to be here in twenty minutes"

"Alright sir." Hugh said before running off with his hunting rifle.

"[censored]ttt. Nice to see you again officer!" Jason said sarcastically, Andrew looked at him smiling.

"[censored] you. You wanna get a drink?" Andrew said while grinning.

"Hell yes. I'm parched, you should know Samuel Plainview stopped by. I think he went to the saloon. Henry also stopped by, He grabbed a rifle or something." Jason said while nodding.

"Hell, everyone seems to be stopping by. Let's tell Nick to watch the store while we get drink." Andrew said while looking in and telling the store manager he was taking a break. Andrew and Jason walked towards Nick and told him to watch the general store. Andrew walked into the saloon and took a seat at the counter. He saw Samuel Plainview and walked over to talk to him.

"Hey Sam! How are you? Any news?" Andrew said while hearing Jason ask him what to order for him. "I'll take a Nuka-Cola and a whiskey shot."

[Sara Johanna Scenariste]

Samuel Plainview
Whittier - Lionel’s Saloon & Diner
11:20AM - 11:25AM

After a little wait, Lionel walked over with Sam’s plate and beer, the smell of the caribou steak really lit Sam up as he looked it over and took in sight of the sizzling slab of meat.

“Thanks a lot,” Sam said, starting to cut in.

“No problem, have a good one,” Lionel said walking back to the bar.

Sam cut himself off a nice piece and started eating, the meat was good, well cooked for a place that didn’t look like it would have food worth eating, but Sam ate it with pleasure, washing it down with his cool beer.

As he ate, he was suddenly approached by a younger man, with hair that was by the looks of him, normally unkept. It was James Mathews, one of the Group Leaders in his Section.

“Good morning, sir. Any news from the higher ups?” He asked sitting with Sam.

“No,” Sam said cutting another piece of his steak, “all seems to be quiet. All except for the ambush of course, but I’m sure you already heard about the long patrol getting it? Luckily nobody died, and yet it’s still the talk of the town.”

Sam paused and forked in piece of meat, chewing it well before washing it down with some beer again. He had a second swig of beer, when Harry Patton came walking in and noticed the two of them sitting there together. He gave a slight wave, and Sam gave one back before turning to James again.

“How have things been with your Group? I heard the other day, you’ve picked up the exercise regiment a bit more on them? Just be sure not to tire them out too much, we wouldn’t want them falling asleep at the sight of tribals . . . but the sight of tribals would probably be enough to wake anyone up.” Sam let out a little laugh as he finished his steak, and washed the rest down with what was left in his beer.

“Lionel!” Sam called, raising the empty bottle. Lionel nodded and returned with a new beer, taking the empty plate back with him.

A moment later, and another Group Leader walked in, it was Andrew Hill, along with one of his grunts. He came walking over, asking for some news as well.

“No,” Sam said, “no news yet. Hopefully we get something soon though, it’s really starting to get to me, just sitting in this town.” Sam took swig of his beer. "I am however, glad it wasn't anyone in our Section, that got jumped last night. I can just imagine the morale Tweed's Section is in right now, after hearing how bad that Group got hit."

Sam paused and took another swig of beer, sitting with the two at the small table.

[CArla HOlbert]

Andrew Hill
Saloon
11:25 A.M

“No,” Sam said, “No news yet. Hopefully we get something soon though, it’s really starting to get to me, just sitting in this town.” Sam took swig of his beer. "I am however, glad it wasn't anyone in our Section, that got jumped last night. I can just imagine the morale Tweed's Section is in right now, after hearing how bad that Group got hit."

"I hear that." Andrew said while seeing Jason sit next to him. He handed him his order, he took the whiskey shot quickly. Washing down the digusting liquid with Nuka-Cola "Good liquor. Anyways, Samuel, meet Jason. He's my best friend and my second in command. Here's to hoping we can beat the [censored] out of those tribals, huh?" Andrew raised his glass and awaited the groups response.

OOC: Sorry about the shortness. I didn't have much room to move besides that. I'll have a longer one after your post Strange.

[Loane]

Jonas McCabe
Bay-side Home
10:32 a.m.


Through torn cloth curtains, a bright light shined in the eyes of a rather hungover man. It was Jonas McCabe, Irishman at heart, born in damn-and-blasted Kansas. Made his way north years ago and hasn't left since. The night before, he'd been at the saloon with a couple of his squad-members. One of which he was... involved with romantically. Either way, he'd gotten hammered, so now he was to pay the price. "Lord have mercy on my wicked soul." Jonas said in a sarcastic tone, putting on his best Irish accent.

He shaved a bit of stubble, keeping his growing goatee in order, washed with what little water and soap he had, then dressed in his usual attire. He wore his combat gear and side-arms all the time now, knowing the situation Whittier was in was torture. It was waiting for the inevitable that was the worst of it. [censored] it, when it happens, we'll give em everything we have. Even if it isn't good enough... His mind trailed off as he lit the cigarette and slipped on his dark Aviators.

Swigging some water and popping a Med-X, Jonas stepped through the door of his humble sheet-metal&driftwood home, and continued down the street. Maybe he'd just take a day to relax. Go by the diner and get some irradiated-apple-pie and coffee. But not before he stopped by the clinic and got a refill on his 'meds'.

Breakfast of champions...

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

Clinic
11:30


The ground crunched under Jonas's boots, the sound comforted him in a strange way, like a familiarity. As he neared the Clinic, he saw a friendly sight awaiting him. It was Alice, as well as the brother and sister, Kim and Henry Jones. Jonas had known the three fairly well, but not as long as they'd known each other. Even though he'd been there for some time, the young man still had the feeling of an outsider, every once in awhile. Despite this, he always tried his best to be friendly and personable.

"Evenin' Alice." Regarding her first, simply for her status as Group Leader, "Henry, Kim, good to see ya. Say, any o' you seen Sam around." Jonas lit another cigarette. He took off his Aviators and sat on a bench in some shade. "Wonder if there's been word from the other Sections."

[Curveballs On Phoenix]

After a few minutes of blank meaningless conversations among each other, Alice half-dazed jumped slightly at the approachment of Jonas, her deep green eyes shun bright for a second as she randomly blurted underbreath; "I wasn't sleeping on the job sir no!" but quickly phased out of the semi-dream and yet semi-realistic state of consciousness.

Catching almost adrift words from Jonas as her head some what awakened the brain, she looked up at him from her ball like position as he went on greeting the others. Shaking her head slightly as she hurried to awaken her inner self. Still.. she was so tired. Taking in a deep breath, she let the cold air linger inside herself as she looked at Jonas blissfully.

"No.. nothing... " Her words spoke with the ever slightest hince of drowsyness.

"And no, havn't seen Sam either.. might wanna check the Saloon.. I know how people love.. just love.. to drink in times of depression and war. Just eases the pain away." Kim quoted forlornly, yet again.

11:20 Jerome Elijha House 122; the Elijha Settlement

Isaac, a young seven year old watched as his father made him breakfest. His small and scronny frame peering over the oven to watch. Then back at dad, his brown eyes in the shape of a puppydog's.

"What?" Spoke Jerome casually

"I already ate... " Isaac said, looking at his father.

Jerome arched his neck back as he looked at the bacon & egg breakfast he was preparing.

"What?"

"I already ate, you was gone and I grabbed something... ate it."

For a second, it occured to Jerome that his son was being forced to pretty much do something that the casual seven year old wouldn't have to do. Sure, he could do it when he had his father around - but.. he wasn't around. He seemed to never be around either. Thinking, as the words played through his open mind, he didn't notice when his hand dropped he just grazed the hot pan. This, he yanked away and pulled his wrist up close to 'svck' on the burn. Looking around, he spotted a small plant that he had catered since it was young and youthful, and trotted over and just slightly nipped the edge of it off, the dead part, and began to rub the herb on his burnt wrist. His lips pulled back into a frown as he squinted in pain.

Isaac, watching his father rub the plant part on the burnt area, glared at it for a second upon second motion, his chocolate eyes peering at the wrist, as he turned towards the cooking food and took his stool and placed it below, and began to continue cooking the eggs and bacon. Dad, watched in astonishment, as he leaned forward and began working on the bacon. His one hand seemingly tied behind his wrist mentally.

[Dan Scott]

John James Speirs-Whittier-Home-11:20AM

"Wake up boy!" Thomas screamed at the top of his lungs. John freaked out rolling right off the crummy bed, in the process he tangled the sheets around his legs and was temporarily trapped. "Up and at 'em sonny boy!" Thomas shouted again, thsi time not quite so loud. John was rolling around prying at the sheets with his hands untangling them from his body. He got them off and stood up, he was in just his briefs, Thomas was standing in the doorway to John's room, smirking and sipping water from a bottle. The pair looked at each other for a moment, John was staring at Thomas venomously, Thomas was smirking and occasionally giggling.

"Why? Dear God why?" John said.

"Oh well because its almost midday and you should be up doing things, like shopping, we're out of Brahmin milk, and eggs, and maybe you could get us some fresh produce, and some of that caribou steak in that sauce, mhmm that was good." Thomas laughed, but then quited and added, "but seriously."

John sat down on the bed and grabbed his pants, he pulled them on and started doing up his boots, "Of all the people to wake me up it's you, your an old man, you should be weak, you should be asleep, and nwo you've ruined my beauty sleep." John pulled his black hoodie down across hsi body and got up to leave.

"Your beauty sleep eh..." Thomas remarked.

"Oh [censored] not this again." John whined

"Eh, language, anyway if you are having your beauty sleep, then you're looking beautiful for a girl eh, a girl? Eh."

John sighed deeply and went into the other room, he snatched the purse of caps off the broken table. He continued on to the door, Thomas was trotting along on his footsteps listing of all manner of items they needed, items which John needed to go buy. He opened the door and stopped in the doorway turning to Thomas. "You know you can be annoying as hell sometimes." Before a snarky remark could come out of the old geezers mouth John spun round slamming the door shut. He could hear Thomas' shouting:

"You'v let in a slight chill, and get me that steak with the sauce!"

John thought to himself, No good, dirty, rotten, useless, stupid, bat[censored] insane, old man.

[Harinder Ghag]

Wesley - Clinic [11.20A]

"Sebastian, I gotta run to the clinic to check on a few things, and by the looks of it," Wesley looked past his brother at the armed men and women squatting and standing by the side of his building. "I might be serving clients. In the meantime, try not to shoot anyone." Wesley was already on the way to his building. "Oh," he said twisting his top half towards his brother, "And no drinking."

He approached the people sitting on the side of his store. For most people, he recognized them by their faces from the occasional section meeting. This was the case for the lot in front of him, save for Alice, which he only new fleetingly through business, as she worked with him part-time in the clinic.

He walked up to them, weapon slung behind his shoulder, keys in hand.

"Hello there, Alice." He said, nodding to her. "Hello, everyone else." He said, nodding briefly to everyone else. "From the looks of it, nobody here's actually news my services. If you want to loiter there's the saloon right next door."

Wesley hesitated, there was no need to be so rash with these people, they weren't doing any harm. But to any effect, he had a busy schedule. "Or better yet, you guys can stay here, hopefully it'll scare some of my punk-ass patients away. Alice, you Ok? Are you coming in?"

He opened the door using his keys, then walked through the entrance t the back where he placed his rifle down. Wesley wasn't an [censored]. Typically he only spoke to people in genuine, albeit slightly jaded kindness. He didn't mean to interrupt the flow of things, and by calling Alice in he allegedly left the guys out to roast, what with the only female presence leaving them to talk about . . . well, war.

"All I got in here is old newspapers if you all want to come and sit down. I'll be out in a few so its your call. Alice, are you here for something?"

[Sista Sila]

Alice slid off the platform in front of the Clinic, as she stood up right for a second, streched out, and trotted in, Kim shortly behind her, as Henry followed. Like little ducks they came in, following momma duck, though Alice would highly frown upon it if some one called her 'momma.' Nether the less.. she sat down in one of the waiting chairs, crouching over slightly as she clamped her hands together, and looked towards her shoes.

"Bri-" Before she could continue, she was rudely interupted.

"Imma.. imma go look for Siento and fetch Jerome." Upon Henry's words Alice met them with a cold stare into his eyes, knowing his wrong do, he slid out.

Kim, who had sat a seat or two across, watched as his younger brother slid out, his legs crossed as he followed his brother leave. Tapping his feet some what from the at time idle sound, he began feeling etchy in a way. Watching as through the open door - leavings of Henry - people passing by.

"Just a briefing.. I'm pretty sure you done caught word of the ambush as of last night.. so.. feel free to enlighten me." Alice spoke pestered by Kim's constant tapping.

[Loane]

James - The Saloon

“No,” the commander replied between bites of steak “all seems to be quiet. All except for the ambush of course, but I’m sure you already heard about the long patrol getting it? Luckily nobody died, and yet it’s still the talk of the town.” James had only heard of the attack on the patrol through the graqevine and he had previously been hoping that the rumors had been exaggerated.

When he finished talking Sam took another piece of steak. James's attention was pulled to the door as one of the other group leaders entered the saloon. Ahh crap, what's his name? Henry? No, Harry. Patton. That's it Harry Patton. James had done his best to have as little to do with the other group leaders as possible preferring the company of his group over his fellow leaders.

“How have things been with your Group? I heard the other day, you’ve picked up the exercise regiment a bit more on them? Just be sure not to tire them out too much, we wouldn’t want them falling asleep at the sight of tribals . . . but the sight of tribals would probably be enough to wake anyone up.” Sam laughed a little. News sure travels fast in this town. Still if he thinks I'm going to let up on them now he's mentioned it then he's seriously wrong, we need all the training we can get.

“Lionel!” The commander called, waggling his empty bottle. The Bartender took the hint and brought over a new one and removed the empty plate as well.

One of the other group leaders, Andrew Hill, came across also asking for news. From what James could remember Hill was a similar age to himself and not a bad leader by all accounts.

“No, no news yet. Hopefully we get something soon though, it’s really starting to get to me, just sitting in this town.” Sam took swig of his beer. "I am however, glad it wasn't anyone in our Section, that got jumped last night. I can just imagine the morale Tweed's Section is in right now, after hearing how bad that Group got hit."

"You heard right," James said, "I've got them doing extra physical work for now, they're going to need to be at their best." James took a sip of his whisky, swirling the clear brown in the bottom of his glass. He quickly knock the remainder back and pushed the glass into the center of the table.

"Do we have any idea what the tribals are planning?" before he could continue he realised something about his glass was off, it wasn't lined up. The grain of the table ran parallel to him with large spaces roughly the size of his tumbler, almost subconsciously he aligned the tumbler edges with the grain of the table. "And, what are they going to do with Tweed's section? After a hit like that they'll be below strength for a while, does that mean the rest of us are going to have to pick up his slack?"

The glass on the table was still bothering him, no matter how he looked he couldn't get it to line up with the grain. He signaled Lionel across, "A new one please, on the rock if you will," James pushed a few caps into the bartenders hand.

[Danel]

As they waited for Bob to arrive, Harry and Alice sat at the bar discussing recent tribal activity, while Hutch dined on a hefty steak and egg breakfast. Apparently, Plainview and the other group leaders were also chatting about the on-going hostilities. Harry, however, did not join them, in an effort to cement the solidarity of his group, and because there was more space around the bar.

"You want anything to eat or drink, Harry?" Lionel asked as he walked back behind the counter, plates in hand.

"A glass of water would be nice, bud. And I'm sorry about my idiot brother here. I heard about last night." Harry slid some caps across the counter and turned to Hutch - whose cheeks began to redden - and looked him in the eye. "You better have apologised."

"Ah, forget about it," Lionel said, placing a cleaned glass in front of Harry. "We were all young once, eh?"

"That's true," Harry conceded, "but difference is, Hutch is 28."

Lionel just laughed and continued on with his duties. Before Harry could settle into his drink, he heard Andrew Hill speaking above the other saloon patrons, seemingly in an attempt to ignite the fire inside his fellow militiamen.

"Here's to hoping we can beat the [censored] out of those tribals, huh?"

Harry grinned and raised his glass, splashing his pants in the process. "I'll drink to that!" he declared loudly, hoping to raise the spirits of those around him. At that moment, the saloon doors swung open and Bob stepped forward, outfitted in leather armour and equipped with devices around his tool belt that Harry could not begin to discern the function of.

"Lookin' sharp, ain't I?" Bob said.

"Whatever you say. Come sit down." Bob complied and took up a stool between Harry and Hutch. "We'll get over to the barracks and rendezvous with Leon and Paul in a minute; fat ass here's just got to finish his breakfast."

"Piss off!" Hutch cursed, spitting food all over the table. "I'm going as fast as I can."

"Well, go faster. No time to waste; I've told you that."