The Warren
-Collaborative Rp by Jonasvault101, Silly Cat, and Yttrium


Cast:

DB Assassin

Jonasvault101

Mr SmileySmile

Shadow Strike

Silly Cat

Terrier

Venix_445

Yttrium

*IMPORTANT: Please do not post yet. DB and then Jonas will post. Once Jonas is finished then you guys can follow his lead, thank you. Also if their is any questions, feel free to PM Jonas, Silly, or me and we will be sure to answer your questions. We are sorry if you did not make into the Rp, it's not because we didn't like you, we just have enough space in this Rp, it's already past it's limit.

Welcome to: The Warren

Population: 0

Day 0

http://img201.imageshack.us/img201/6058/citymapkansasedit.jpg

News:

Day 0- Meet at the Market!

Samuel, Bunker 25 feet Underneath his house.



It was only a few weeks prior that Samuel had been laughing and drinking his day away with his friends and fiance, who he had found out was pregnant only 2 months beforehand. The young chef-turned-contractor had heard the blaring scream of the air-raid sirens only minutes before the sky was alight with flames of Chinese warheads and bombers. Only by a divine miracle had he burst through his houses' door and ran down to the bomb shelter, making it in just as 4 bombs decimated the city. The whereabouts and fates of his pregnant fiance and his friends were, and are, unknown.

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

Samuel sat in a large leather chair, smack-dab in the middle of the 12x16 room, his cot in the corner surrounded by empty beer cans and soup cans. The stove in the corner had a small pot on it in which day old stew sat and steamed as Samuel waited for it to reach a suitable temperature. The room was cozy, despite its size. Samuel himself was in nothing but his birthday suit, why should he have to dirty up his clothes when nobody would see him wearing them, it also cut down on water usage, and Samuel only had a small tank that he could use 3 times a day before he had to induce the recycling and purifying process.

Samuels' mother and father were both engineers for Vault-Tech, his mother had died when a bomb went off during the reclamation of Anchorage, and his father was in D.C. at the time the bombs had fallen. But extreme precautions had been made to see off Samuels' survival. The small shelter was doing its job well.

But Samuel couldn't just sit in the small metal coffin forever, his house had several nearly indestructible radiation monitors set up around it, all of which had been signaling to him throughout the morning, that rad levels were now safe enough. Samuel was now pulling on his gear, he finished it off by throwing on his leather duster and putting his aviator glasses on, the glasses were suited perfectly for protecting his eyes, as he hadn't seen sunlight for weeks. Slinging his SKS over his back, along with his old pack stuffed with water, food, and other survival necessities, he turned off the lights and began walking up the metal stairs to his house.

Inside the house, it was entirely charred, the roof was gone, the windows busted out, the house was just a charred skeleton of its former glory as a 2-story 70 year old relic. The sky was clouded over by great black clouds and deep brown hues that cast a dim and eerie light over the city. Samuel walked onto the street, it was a scene he had never imagined, the charred bones and eerie imprints of children and advlts alike littered the streets, cars cluttered the area, some were slammed into each other, most likely indicating wrecks caused during the panic.

Christ... how many bombs fell? This was one of many questions that raced through Samuel's head as he stared out across the city, his house was in a neighborhood that sat atop a hill, it gave a remarkable view of the carnage. After a few weeks, there were still fires raging in the tall buildings at the center of the city, ash blew in gusts as the radioactive winds picked up. Samuel pulled a scarf around his neck and pulled his duster around his body tighter. He began walking down the deserted street.

There wasn't much about the town that was familiar to the 17 yr old. Sure, he remembered the streets, and even some buildings were recognizable, but it wasn't the same town he'd grown up in. It was probably midday when Samuel reached the town square, the old market where many an immigrant and local alike tried to hawk goods and whatnot. It was dead, and Samuel was tired, so he found some wood and struck up a fire, throwing a can of stew on it for some lunch.

Samuel then began playing his harmonica, normally he'd be more wary, but he figured he was most likely the only person left in the city...

OOC: I know its long, but I like to be thorough.

Cain was outside working the field, when the sirens came. His father had gone out to the market early in the day, and Cain wasn't sure when he was going to be back. So instead of waiting for his dad to come back he just ran for the tornado shelter, like he was taught in so many drills. Positive this was a drill Cain was siting on an old and faded couch when the bombs actually hit, the shelter shook at the explosions and shock waves.

The shelter was never really equipped to deal with a nuclear fallout, so supplies were pretty sparse. Not knowing when he would be out, Cain decided to eat sparingly, but even doing so gave him only a couple weeks of nutrition. After four days of no food, and one day of no water Cain decided the best way of survival was to go outside. Opening the door and stepping out into the sun, Cain was unprepared for the sunlight as he had been in a much darker environment. Falling to his knees form dizziness, Cain had to wait for a few minutes before his eyesight re-adjusted.

Walking to his house, which was nothing but a bunch of sticks now, he found a puddle of water. It was dark and sooty, much like the sky. He tried forcing it down his stomach, and it almost immediately ejected it. Deciding it would easier to drink after eating, Cain went into his pantry, not much was left, but some peanut butter had survived. The first bites he had to struggle to get down, but after that it became easier, he ate the half the jar right then.

Deciding to save the rest of it later, he put it in a pack he found in the shelter, it was the only thing in their. Searching around his house for other items, he found his father's gun. A pristine Mosin Nagant, or it was. Now the metal look rusted, the wood rotted, and the whole thing seemed to be able to fall apart at any point.

Never knowing what could be next, he took the gun with him along with the little available ammo. Going back outside, he found that he could now force some of that disgusting water down his throat. With only half a jar of peanut butter to sustain him, Cain headed for the local town, hoping to find food in the market.

He live pretty far from the town, and it was hard going. The wind kept blowing ash all over him, no matter how hard he pulled his duster over him. And the ash also found it's way into his lungs. He kept coughing violently, it felt like he was tearing them to pieces. It was evening by the time he got close to town, he could swore he heard the sound of a harmonica, but he figured he was going crazy.

As he neared the town square, he thought he could hear people speaking.

I should say hi.

Instead though he fell to his hand and knees, ejecting the water and peanut butter. Wiping his mouth, and trying to smile, Cain looked up,

"Hey, hows it going?"

Boredom was a small word compared to what Jonathan was feeling. Sitting on a small camping stool, looking at the roof of the bomb shelter, or the ground, depending what way you look at it wasn't exactly what most people would call fun.

He had already resolved days ago do try and go out to see what exactly happened, or what as going on. He definitely wasn't going to last where he was, with the few provisions he had.

Jonathan sighed, he slowly stood up from the stool and walked over to the shelter's heavy doors. After double checking that he had everything he might need Jonathan pushed the doors open, and walked out.

Although the sky was dark, the light was still too bright for his unaccustomed eyes. His eyes began burning as soon as he stepped out making him cover his sill burning eyes with his hands. He had to wait a few minutes before he had the guts to slowly open his eyes again.

As he his eyes adjusted he say the city. It was devastated. Buildings blown out, remains of cars on the streets along with debris. The sky was covered with dark clouds; the sun barely visible; dust, ash and sand was everywhere, filling his lungs and making him start coughing. He pulled his scarf around his face, blocking most of the debris from entering.

He knew that this was what he was going to see, destruction and hopelessness, but the mind is a confusing thing, he tried to be optimistic, tried to keep his last shred of sanity, thinking that there was going to be some small sliver of hope, something to keep him pushing. Yet now that he saw all the destruction he didn't loose that glint of hope, the will to stay alive. There had to be something out there.

Then the faint sound of a harmonica reached Jonathan's ears and without much thought he started to walk towards the sound.

"Am I going crazy, or is the sound really there? Why am I walking towards it anyway," He thought. Yet he still kept going, unsure of what else to do.

Before long he was already at the sound's source, and he wasn't the only one there. There were two other people, the one playing the harmonica, and one standing next to him.

Standing back he kept slowly inching forward, unsure if he should speak or not.

Underground, adjacent to her house otherwise and only away by a few feet, Katherine had been starving. There had been ten, maybe fifteen minutes of absolute chaos that she had experienced. Stuffing whatever food she could in a bag, grabbing a canister of water and clothing she thought she might need the most. In those moments, no thought had been toward her babysitter-or even her uncle-as much as it had been toward utter panic as the sirens had sounded.

Then, two hours of anxiety and disbelief-as the bombs flew across the world. Crashing, explosions, it was all too easily heard from even as deeply underground as she was. Even after it had all been over, the teenager had found herself stuck in her bunker. Even after she had no food, and eventually no water, in the small space she remained. After all, there was no sign from outside that all was well-or, more realistically, not fatal. So, Katherine Adler found herself doing little more than sleeping and slight walks around the underground room for another week. It was then that she began to realize, ever so slightly, what had happened to a true extent. The fact that the chances of her only family being alive were slim, at best. Whatever her life, or future, had been or would be was no longer even possible.

Even after crying so many times, the emotional wounds hadn't healed any. Finally, after so long, Kathy had to face facts. She could stay in the safe bunker, away from whatever was awaiting her outside, and starve. Or, she could risk it and have some meager chance for living longer than maybe another week or so.

As miserable as she felt, death wasn't an option for her-and there was only one option that promised any possibility she wouldn't die. Even if the possibility was low, it was better than zero percent.

Having packed whatever she had left, including a blanket and a few other things, she reached the bunker's exit. Her heart pounded, and she felt weak from a lack of nourishment, but she forced the entrance to open after a little effort. It was what she saw when she surfaced that perhaps allowed her to completely realize the true tragedy of the situation.

There was so many powerful emotions that seemed to nearly suffocate her, as she passed through the demolished town-a place she no longer could call a home. Shock, disgust, sorrow, anger, fear. Nearly all things aside from happiness. The area was clearly, highly radiated-and thus far no sign of life could be seen. Only death-whether it was the imprints of where people had been as the bomb impacted the earth, or the actual rotting bodies and their pervasive malodor.

Yet, she was sure something or someone threatening was out there-and so every step was prudent, quiet. The one, smart thing she had really done before she went into her own shelter from the bombs was grab a gun. Suddenly she appreciated all the practice and obsession she had had for the object in earlier times, as she had some ability to aim and shoot. Whether or not it would be of any use, she didn't know-but even if it wouldn't, it made her feel slightly more at ease.

She began making her way around town-looking for some sort of food at water, mainly, at that point.

It was then that a harmonica's tune reached her ears, and her hazel colored eyes widened. Positioning herself slightly and raising her gun somewhat, she looked over to a man-back turned. Having not yet cocked the gun, but not yet lowered it either, Kathy remained somewhat tense.

Clearing her throat, the fifteen year old raised her voice in a way that was as confident and demanding as she could manage, "Who are you?"

Then, she noticed two others approaching, with her face betraying her supposed confidence to express her surprise and confusion. Even more so, fear.

She lowered her gun slightly, although barely, as so far all seemed friendly and unacquainted. Still, Kathy took a bit of a step backward in case.

Suddenly, the girl wasn't quite sure what to say-or what to ask, for that matter. Before, Katherine had been nearly positive everyone was dead. After a few moments of hesitation, and thought, the girl inquired, "...You all survived?"

Stupid question, but the many powerful emotions, along with her desperate need for food and water, didn't exactly give her the ability to think with much clarity.

Dan was inside his house, laying down on an old sofa, watching television. He was half asleep while watching it, and was trying to fall asleep. The sounds of the television however, kept him from falling completely asleep. The television was broadcasting another propaganda show, about how the Chinese Americans have been transported to containment camps, and the effects of it. Just as the commercial break began, a faint sound could be heard. Then, it began to get louder, and louder. It was the bomb sirens, the sound that no one wanted to hear. Dan did not want to believe that the sirens were going off, and was just a ringing in his ear, however, the sirens kept on getting louder, and he could hear the sound of explosions in the distance.

Panicked, Dan immediately ran down into the basemant, stumbling down the stairs. He was terrified, hearing the sounds of panicking citizens, gunshots, and screams. The sounds seemed real, but Dan didn't know if what he was all hearing was real, or just his mind playing tricks on him again. He ran up to the door that connected the shelter to the basemant. Upon opening it, he slid down the ladder, darted to the shelter entrance, and sealed it shut. Finally in the shelter, Dan went into one of the cots, and tried to fall asleep.

It seemed like forever, living in the shelter. Dan, struggling to survive just in the shelter, had been listening to a Ham Radio, hoping to hear sounds of anyone still alive. All he heard were the sounds of static, and light humming. Inside the shelter, there was only two weeks of food and water, along with with some extra supplies. Knowing this, Dan had tried to prepare himself to get ready to go outside. He gathered a small amount of food and water, with a small first aid kit. There was also a 10mm pistol with some spare ammo, along with a flashlight. Getting his supplies together, he stuffed them in a hiking bag he kept in the shelter, and opened the shelter door. He began to climb the ladder, and could immediately smell a horrible stench. There wasn't any specific way to describe the smell, other than it was worse than anything he had ever breathed in. Opening the door to the basemant, he was surprised to see the basemant mostly intact. The only thing destroyed was the few small windows. Dan began to climb slowly up the stairs, that creaked upon each small step he took. Opening the last door, he was horrified with the sight.

The house was nearly gone. The whole second floor was gone, as if it never existed. The first floor was barely intact, with only a few walls withstanding. A car had crashed into the house, with the lights still on. The driver, however was dead, with a smear of blood on the windshield. The look of all of it terrified the young man. In a hurry, he ran into his room, and gathered some spare clothes. Leaving his room, he opened the spare closet, and gathered some extra emergency supplies. A roll of duct tape, and crowbar were also taken. Following this, Dan took one final look at the remains of his home, and left.

It was night, and Dan had been walking for several hours. He had finally gotten towards the city, hoping to find survivors. There wasn't anything in sight for a while, until he saw a light in the distance. Upon approaching the light, he found out it was a fire. The sound of a harmonica passed through his ears, and the light sounds of people talking. He got closer to what seemed to be a small group of people cautiously, and waited for someone to respond.

"The Savage Model 99 used a rotary magazine to hold the cartridges. Unlike other magazines which use metal plates and springs to push the cartridges towards the bolt, the rotary magazine uses a spring-loaded spool with grooves to hold the cartridges. The Savage 1895 took advantage of the spool to include a counter to indicate how many shots are left. The Model 99 continued using this system for many years. Another benefit of the rotary magazine was...

Collie Entragian sits in a a reinforced box. To each side are tons of soil, above him the right side of his house exists only as a memory. The left side of his house is a collection of rocks and pipe. Collie turns the page.

"...the 99 is chambered in many calibers, the most common being the .300 Savage round. The original intent of its designers was to offer a cartridge that could approach the ballistics of the .30-06 Springfield, while at the same time utilizing a smaller case that could be cycled through a short-action lever rifle....It soon became a popular deer and medium-sized game cartridge among North American hunters, and by mid century nearly every major US firearms maker offered a .300 Savage chambering in at least one of its rifle models."

Collie puts the issue of Guns and Bullets down.

It had been some time since the sirens called him down here. Father had been out in the Highwayman probably picking up loose women. He knew what father did when he left, Collie didn't dare bring it up because he knew a good whooping would come...and he had his suspicions about his mother's tumble down the steps. He also knew that that siren meant get yourself to the shelter immediately. Forget the tools, forget your friends, grab your gun and get in there. Collie had done as he'd been taught.

A man could only spend so much time in a little box like that though. The wind wasn't as loud as it had been and the air didn't smell funny anymore...and besides Collie had read through all the Guns and Bullets, most of the Big Book of Science, and had dog-eared the pages of Dean's Electronics so much that there were small triangular pieces of paper scattered on the floor. Reading helped Collie to keep bad thoughts out it always had. He could spend no more time here though.

Collie gathered his books, raided the closet for ammo, and put his rifle in its sling. He pushed open the heavy iron doors and stepped out into a Wasteland.

Damn if it wasn't bright out here.

Collie walks through his front door out of habit though there is little need for it with the house all but blotted out. He starts walking toward town. It's a long ways off and while Collie is NOT afraid of the dark he is certainly not a fan.

My parents were good people. They worked hard for good pay. My father built for a Corvega factory, and my mother entered all the shipping manifests and paper work that needed to be done. I'd bring home the good grades. MY father would brag to Mr and Mrs Jones at they neighborhood parties. I also was on the Football team, Quarterback. Tack that on the wall, dad. But sometimes I felt he loved what I did more than me. They bought into the whole 'Chinese will take away American values' and 'Protect young patriots' and whatnot. That led to our shelter being built. I was home packing boxes into my [censored] ol' [censored] mobile to move when the sirens started. I shrugged it off as testing. It was only after I saw small white blurs on the horizon did I drop my boxes and piss myself running out to our shelter. I jumped half the stairs after closing the door. I felt the Earth shake, as if the ground was splitting.


The room was small, but I didn't care. It gave me enough room to exercise, at least. The room was cold stone, gray...lifeless. My parents didn't have color in there. They didn't even bother to lay down carpet! I'm no diva, put the bunker get to ya. Most of my days are spent exercising, sleeping, and having deep meaningless, time-killing thought on why fire is red and ice is "blue." Some days, I get drunk, as it helps relive the boredom of sitting in a bleak room all day. Some of the...er, plants, I brought also help. I etched in "Eli was here, 2077" in the wall with my Machete I had for mountain trips. Food and water were sometimes issues. We had already stocked it, in case. We had a well pump installed, so water wasn't as big of a problem as food. But I say that loosely. Some days, it just didn't work. More so now since I broke the handle off it in anger two days ago.

I'd have to leave. Not something I'd thought about during deep, meaningless, time killing thoughts.


I put on my mountain jacket, hat, and the machete on my back. I walked up the dusty stairs to the door above. I braced myself for the worst, and turned the knob. Locked. I banged against the door, nothing. My only choice was to hack the door down. I took out my machete and swung at the door. With each swing, splinters of wood came off, and bits of light blasted though. I finally took one heavy swing, falling down and out as it made contact. I picked myself up, being greeted with painful light and horrid stenches. It was too much to take in. I vomited. I wiped my mouth off, while my eyesight cleared. I saw, my interpretation, of hell. Buildings gone, on fire, only the steel frame left...eerie to say the least.


I walked the streets where the children played. Some old house had corpses on them, still rotting. Horrid. I never imagined...I made my way down the road, eying the area. I heard a poorly played harmonica in the distance. I searched around me, not finding anything. I was rummaging around some house on high ground when I saw the silhouettes. I made my way lower, behind some debris and an old car. Peeking my head out, I saw a few people. Not knowing if they were looters, I kept quite. If they were to spot me, who knows...

Samuel sat on the ground, fluting away on his harmonica, the fire in front of him was crackling and he had taken his soup out of the fire and cracked the can open. He ate half the can, deciding he'd stay the night in the square and finish the stew off in the morning or later that night. It wasn't after ten minutes of him playing 'Piano Man' that a another person stumbled into sight, and threw up on the ground. The person smiled awkwardly and managed a greeting.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" The man said.

"Umm... hi. Fine I guess, can't really say I'm enjoying the weather." Samuel said, managing a chuckle. He'd never been all to good with people, but being that the circumstances were bleak, he saw no point in being shy, but he was cautious.

"Sit, please. Names' Samuel, you?" Samuel asked the man, waiting for him to take a seat by the fire. The night had begun to grow oddly cold, although it was just the beginning of Fall. Heh, Fallout ! Thought Samuel, he'd always had a bit of a dry-dark sense of humor. It was only a minute or so after the newcomer had arrived that a very young girl approached them, she was pretty, and couldn't have been any old than 15 or 16, not but two years younger than Samuel.

"Who are you?" She asked, holding her rifle steady towards the ground, she seemed skittish but confident, " ... You all survived?" She then asked. Samuel stood up and beckoned her over with his hand.

"I'm Samuel, and ya... apparently we did survive. Come over here, its getting cold out and god knows what's lurking around the city. I have food and water if either of you need any. Made the stew myself, and canned it." Samuel said, sitting back down and throwing another can on the fire, sparks flying up as he did.

"Its good to know at least you two survived, I wonder if there are others. Again, I'm Samuel. And pardon me for being a bit jumpy, I wasn't expecting much is all." Samuel said a bit sadly, he was good at hiding pain, part of his insurmountable resilience. But the deep grief he felt at the loss of his fiance, and his child he would never see, was more pain than any bomb or bullet could ever cause. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at the gold masonic ring on his finger, one she had given him. He quickly wiped away the tears, and threw more wood on the fire.

Dan approached the people by the fireplace, and looked at them. Three strangers, talking to each other, just as alert as he is. All of them were around the same age as him, and seemed to be friendly. Hoping they were, he sat nearby, and took a moment to think.

Before saying anything, he thought about everything that has happened so far. He was alone, in a dark cold shelter, not knowing what happened to the rest of the world. His parents, wherever they were, probably have disintegrated, along with the rest of the country it seemed. The idea of them being dead hadn't really hit him until now, finally seeing other people. Now, some tears struck his cheek, as he thought about his parents. They were really all he had, seeing as how most of his life was spent with them. Dan was home schooled, as he was considered not mentally sane enough to go to a normal school. He never really ever had true friends, and didn't have any pets. With his parents dead, he had no one left he knew in this new world.

Dan wiped the few tears from his eyes, and looked up at the strangers. He built up the strength to raise a smile, and spoke.

"How are you all doing? It's good to finally have some company."

The man had responded with his name, Samuel, and gestured toward a place in the proximity of the fire. When he had commented that '...god knows what's lurking around the city,' a shiver ran up her spine. That was a large portion of what scared her. A smile, however, splashed onto her face at the mention of food-appreciation flooding her face. Although it lasted somewhat shortly, before a more serious one replaced it. Still, Adler's attitude became faintly more friendly.

After that, the girl relented and put away her gun-though it remained close to her hand. She took a deep breath, shaking for a moment before regaining her composure. After that, she didn't appear so afraid, eyes no longer wild like some cornered animal. Yet, she was. While there was relief at the sight of apparently friendly people, the world had turned into a frightening and grim place. A couple of smiles wouldn't change that.

The brunette approached the fire, sitting nearby the others-though still not too closely, as her fears had not totally ebbed away. "My name's Katherine, or Kathy. Whichever you like, I guess...erm...mind if I have some of that food and water you were talkin' 'bout?" Her tone became a little sheepish as she made the request, not exactly used to asking for help from anyone besides perhaps her uncle. Who was likely dead. Though such a thought was pushed away. Kathy was tired of having to cry, it had been bad enough doing that in the shelter of her's.

For the most part, she focused on the fire. On the warmth which helped take the edge of the noticeably colder temperatures that had set in since the sun was slightly blocked out by the smoke-more eerie remnants from the two-hours bombardment of nuclear explosions. On the way the light made her deep, reddish tan even more vibrantly colored. It was far more comforting to see something familiar, like a fire, than the drastically changed world about her. Still bleeding from its wounds in ways she doubted would ever heal in her lifetime.

She heard Samuel stating, "Its good to know at least you two survived, I wonder if there are others. Again, I'm Samuel. And pardon me for being a bit jumpy, I wasn't expecting much is all."

Naturally, her eyes-filled with greens, browns, and yellows-rose to look at and speak with the older individual. During which she caught him wiping his eyes. Feeling sympathy, but not wanting to have to delve into what was obviously going to be a painful subject for most(if not all) of them, she looked back to the fire and managed an ensuring and broad smile. "It's alright, I wasn't exactly polite about introductions...this whole thing has been keeping me a little scared. I was expecting hostile survivors at best...and I doubted there'd be anyone else alive in the first place, honestly." Looking over to the other, Cain, and paused. She had caught sight of his...incident. Which resulted in her asking, "Are you okay?....Earlier...you didn't seem like you were doing great."

Then, she noticed two others-who hadn't spoken yet. Both male, and probably older than she was. They didn't have guns, or some other weapon in their hands, or a crazed look-so she was being optimistic, and expecting they weren't out to raid or kill everyone. Though she was definitely still somewhat jumpy and cautious, she tried to be friendly. "Hey...nice to see more people. Who are you two? I'm Katherine, or Kathy, if you didn't hear me earlier."

A small smile, partially agreement and partially to be sociable, appeared as one sat down. "I've been a lot better...but I was worse about five minutes ago, I guess. So-my life's improving at the moment." Slightly dry humor, there.

"How 'bout you?"

Then, at the corner of her vision, she had spotted something moving quickly-and once again Katherine tensed. Becoming, yet again, even more suspicious. "Did you all see that? Something moved..." Her dark eyebrows lowered, mouth forming into a slight scowl in concern. Was it someone friendly? Was it even human?

Dan looked at the other survivors, and their scarred faces. It looks as if each and every one of them has gone through Hell. He began to think about how it must have been for them, and how they survived so far. It has only been a few weeks since the bombs dropped, but since then, almost everything has changed. He opened his backpack, and pulled out his pistol, along with the flashlight and a roll of duct tape. To try to divert himself from the sounds he kept on hearing sounds in the distance. He didn't know if they were real, or just his mind playing tricks on him again. Dan has always had to deal with his problems, including hearing things that aren't around. He remembered the first time it happened, when he was at a funeral for his grandmother. Upon looking down at the coffin, he heard the sound of his grandmother calling him. No one believed him, and his parents were scared of his response. Ever since, he has heard sounds of people, sounds of violence, and sounds of his parents. However, while taping the flashlight underneath the barrel of the pistol, he heard one of the survivors speaking to him.

"Hey...nice to see more people. Who are you two? I'm Katherine, or Kathy, if you didn't hear me earlier."

Dan stopped for a moment to look up. Across from him, was the young woman who spoke. He could only see her face, lit up by the light from the fire. He looked at her, and smiled.

"Nice to meet you Kathy. My name is Dan, but I guess you could call me Danny."

Dan looked at the other men by the fire. They also seemed just as cautious as Kathy, some of them eating.

"By the way, it's good to finally see some people."

Then, as he finished talking, he heard the sound of something moving nearby. The sound seemed to be real, and got him alerted. Katherine also seemed to be alert of the presence.

"Did you all see that? Something moved..."

Dan finished taping up the flashlight and gun, and looked up. Kathy seemed to be alert, looking around. Whatever it was, he began to get nervous. He held the pistol tightly. However, he knew he couldn't start to make any actions yet, as he didn't want to scare the other survivors and make them think he was crazy. So, Dan took a deep breath, and looked at Katherine.

"Yeah, I think I saw it. I don't know what it could be though..."

I couldn't help but eavesdrop on them. Other than the idle conversations, all they did was eat. I couldn't move around much, seeing as how I was already confined to a small area. I was laying on my side, diddling my lips. Some wind blew into my face, I almost coughed. I was so afraid, no matter how tough I may be, they had guns. I had a simple machete. I had peeked out once more, there were four there. I was a little ways off, the words were faint, but understandable. I focused in to the words, mostly giving each other their names. I stood up just enough to bend my legs so I could squat walk around. I tripped over a rock putting my hands out to catch myself. I grunted on impact. I looked at my hands, they were scraqed and already bleeding. I heard them discussing the noise, and a flashlight shown around the area.

"[censored]" I said to myself.

I pulled out my machete, ready for a possible fight. I'd only used it against weeds and snakes, not men and women. I stood up, holding it as if it were a gun, waving it around a bit.

"Don't shoot..D-don't move!" I said.

Samuel watched as the young girl sat down, asking for the food and water Samuel had offered, he immediately fished the hot can of stew out of the fire and popped open the lid, then pulled a water bottle from his pack. He set both items in front of the girl, giving her a smile before turning back to the fire. He reached a pocket knife into the can he had opened and pulled out a meaty chunk that he happily popped into his mouth. If there was one good thing to be thankful for, it was good cooking.

Samuel turned to the man who had arrived, "You want anything?" He asked him, still waiting for his name. But before he could answer, the girl, who was named Kathy, noticed two other men approaching the small campsite.

"Well hot damn, looks like I know how to pick a campsite?" Samuel said with a grin. He reached into his pocket and fished out a small blue, he popped it in his mouth and grimaced as the little thing touched his tongue, it tasted god-awful. But he knew the effects well, and it relieved his terrible panic attacks that plagued him ever so often.

Kathy was looking a bit skittish, and suddenly she jumped, looking over at a building where a noise had spooked her. "Did you all see that? Something moved..." She said, a panicked look on her face. Samuel had pretty sharp ears, and was normally rather steady and calm, especially since the drug he'd taken was kicking in, but due to the new environment he too was feeling a bit frightened. The darkness that was setting in was more terrifying than being in a cave.

"Uhh, you two, in the shadows, get the hell over here and grab some wood for the fire. I don't know what's out there, but I don't think I'd like to find out." With this, Samuel got up and grabbed his rifle, he pulled the pin back and let it fly forward, chambering one of the 30 rounds. He motioned for Kathy to get behind him, he picked up a burning log while keeping the rifle pointed out in front of him. He then flung the burning wood out across the market, and a very unsettling set of shadows darted away from the flame. They almost looked like walking skeletons.

"Alright, get around the fire. Nobody's going anywhere." Samuel now had a frightened tone in his voice, he piled more wood onto the fire, and picked up a few of the burning logs, flinging them in different directions. The sound of footprints scurrying across the market was all to real.

OOC: Screw the bandits, we're going for ghouls folks!

OOC: woohoo im in what a nice suprise to came back to after a good weekend, i will post my first a bit later sorry for the OOC will keep that to a minimum from now on

Collie has pretty well forgotten about everything that had occupied his mind those long long days in the shelter. Walking through the remains of his hometown is decidedly surreal. For the first time Collie is happy that his family lived on the outskirts of town. There is enough death and horror in that sparsely populated area, lord knows what must wait in the heart of the city. The sun has all but finished setting when Collie meets another survivor for the first time.

"Haahhh....heeeeeeh.....heeelp?"

Collie walks to the wounded man, his pupils dilating to an almost comic degree as he gets closer. This man should be dead.

He is nvde, but his chest is covered in a criss cross pattern, the stitching of his shirt burned into and melded with flesh. Tears stream down the mans upturned face as Collie takes to knee at his side.

"Help me get up son? There's people nearby, I can hear the music."

Collie could hear it too now, now that he listened for it.

He gets back up on two feet then bends down taking the man's arms in his own and helps him up, eyes searching for any hint of where that music is coming from. A scream brings him back to the situation at hand.

Collie looks down to find himself holding something foreign but altogether familiar. Holding his arms up in front of his face he inspects the item closer.

Gloves?

Collie wretches into the dirt as realization hits him. The burned stranger has broken into sobs now. His flesh is weak and slips from his body with ease. There will be no more music for him. His time in this new wasteland will soon end.

"Kill me...please...I can't go on."

Collie throws the flesh on the sand in revulsion, surprised to find it still grasped in his hands. He wipes the blood and bits of charred flesh on his tan khaki pants.

Can I do it? Can I kill a man?

"I'm sorry...I can't kill you stranger"

"Pleeese.....please, there are dogs out there and...other things...it's almost night, you can't just leave me out here to be eaten..."

Collie pauses, He has a point

"You...you've got that rifle, it would just take a second, please."

Collie shoulders the rifle and aims it at a shaking crying wreck of a man

"Wait! My name is Evan, I would know your name before..."

"My name is Collie"

*gun shot*




The sound of harmonica music is easier to follow now. It is dark now and Collie can see the light of the fire they are gathered around. People, hopefully not horrifically dsifigured people.

OOC: sorry didnt gt this up last night fell asleep at the keyboard, and sorry if its a bit long, had some cathing up to do. And hopefully its ok


Zoey sat out in the sun reading a magazine. Her father was out on tour in Alaska aiding in the fight against the "Reds" as many people called them, so this left her to tend to the house and look after herself. Which she believed wasn't a problem, she was eighteen after all what eighteen year old couldn't look after herself? Looking up at the sky the sun shone brighter, pulling her father's aviators off of her top she put them on instantly making the light easier to cope with, looking back at the magazine she got bored with it and tossed it to the side.

"Oh crap" Zoey murmured to her self, running into the house she killed the gas on the oven, opened it and looked at the pizza she had been cooking. The thing was charcoal twenty minutes and gas mark six, not fifty minutes. Dropping the now burnt pizza into the bin she walked back outside to an unusual chill. Putting on the leather jacket which really didn't cover her up anymore than her top did she went inside, at the moment the door clicked shut it started. The sound no one wanted to hear, in a flash Zoey had grabbed a bag and gone to the kitchen and grabbed what she could and leaping down most the steps to the basemant she went into the shelter and slammed the door shut locking it.

The next two hours would be the longest of Zoey's life, for the first two days she just sat there thinking of her father, if there had been a fallout here then there was most certainly one in Alaska. She felt alone. On the third day she finally managed to eat and drink something, why she'd wasted time getting things from the kitchen she didn't know the bunker was well stocked up. Two more days past before she opened a cabinet to see and MP5 with some spare ammo. Over the next week she taught herself how to take it apart and put it back together with her eye's shut while thinking deep thoughts about what was going to happen and of all the people she'd lost.

Two weeks later the built in radiation sensor's said it was safe but un-advisable to go outside. But she couldn't sit here any longer, gathering up as much food and water in the a bag as she could and grabbing the MP5 and the three spare clips she walked to the door. She froze, what if there is no one else there? what if its just nothingness now? Shaking her head she puled up the courage to open the door. The roof of the basemant was still there and cautiously she walked up the steps and opened the next door. Her house had been nearly completely blown out, she was awe struck. She could of walked out the missing wall but out of some strange respect for something, she went for the front door that still stood in the frame, as she grabbed the handle the door fell away from her.

The streets where littered with cars, glass and debris. The worst of all skeleton's and bodies. Wind kicked up plenty of dust, it stung Zoey's lower back and stomach as her top and jacket didn't cover her there but at least her eye's where protected by her father's aviators he had given her Thanks dad she thought as a small tear trickled down her cheek. Pushing through the streets and debris she made it further into town when the sweet tune of music to her ears, which was abruptly broken by a gunshot in the distance. carefully moving on through the town it got darker, the music had stopped but she pushed forward to where she last heard the music maybe there where other survivors she thought, she only hoped. The thought of spending her life alone in this place scared her.

In the distance Zoey could see a fire, as she got closer she could hear people talking. Maybe this meant they where friendly? edging close steadily keeping her weapon slightly raised a young girl jumped up claiming to have heard a noise in the opposite direction of Zoey Thank god didn't want them thinking i was going to hurt them she thought. One of the men through a burning piece of wood into the darkness spitting out strange shadows all over

"Ummmm hello? over there by the fire, I'm friendly! Ive got a light on this thing if it will help?" Zoey couldn't believe she'd just spoken out loud to already panicked stranger's, way to startle them more. Zoey awaited to see if she'd even been heard.

Kathy would have smiled, albeit shakily, in return to Dan's and his introduction-but by then there were more concerning and pressing matters at hand. At the sound of the voice, it could be recognized as a human-female. In the distance, she stood with some object-very possibly weapon-or other. The voice was shaky, scared-just like all of them appeared to be. Katherine had already noticed she wasn't the only one shaken tremendously by all that had happened-and was happening.

Still, the threat alarmed the fifteen year old. Sure, she seemed scared-but it could either be a bluff or, much worse, someone attempting to raid or harm them...and they were just new to it. No doubt there were plenty of people like that out there, killing and pillaging through other people for the first time in their lives-just to survive.

In response, her rifle was raised slightly-directed to the unknown woman who had made the order to not move. In a grim voice, with confidence that Kathy had to slightly force into her voice, she remarked, "If you're out here to hurt us, or take what we have...I'll shoot your head off." The girl had never shot a person, and in all reality she was somewhat frightened. Not that her aiming might fail, she had notable ability in that skill, but rather that the person might truly be hostile. More so, that she might really have to kill people every day, just so that she herself wasn't killed. Or what was the closest things to friends she had right now. These people, so far, had been remarkably kind to her-she wasn't willing to let them get murdered if she could stop it.

She was frightened of this new sort of world. A place that was earth, her hometown, yet nothing like it.

Then, she took more notice to other things, moving about in eerie and strange ways. It was almost human...but.....was it?

Despite herself, a girl who was generally happy to take care of herself almost completely, she didn't argue when Samuel gestured for Kathy to get behind him. Keeping her own weapon out, trying to be prepared for whatever was seeming to surround them, Katherine jumped in a way that surprised her when she heard a gun shot in the distance. "What the hell was that?" she asked, softly and almost under her breath, as her alert hazel eyes darted toward the source of the sound. Who exactly was it that they needed to worry about? It was beginning to seem like there were a massive number of threats nearby, and it was starting to concern her-to say the least.

Then, yet another human voice-

"Ummmm hello? over there by the fire, I'm friendly! Ive got a light on this thing if it will help?"

Adler shifted around slightly to see someone she-not too shockingly-didn't know. Her grip tightened around the metal she had already been holding with such care, as she tried to calm her now numerous anxieties. After a pause, her voice-no longer so confident, and wavering on occasion, answered.

"If you don't intend harm, I highly suggest you get your butt over here-because there's something around us nearby that doesn't seem all too friendly." Glancing over to the other woman, her thin, dark eyebrows lowered and her face gave a somewhat concerned yet solemn look. "You might want to come over too, lady...Don't try anything." While Kathy knew it could all be a misunderstanding, she didn't want to take chances. It was hard to trust anyone in the situation they were in-but at that point, there was no better option.

Without another comment, she immediately took the water allotted to her by Samuel, forcing herself to swallow the rushing chunks of water. Dehydration and starvation were not good options, especially then, and she didn't want to give anyone-or anything?-the chance to catch her delusional just because she decided to hold off on eating and drinking a little longer. Perhaps the people with her now meant well, and were good people, they seemed like it at least...but there seemed to be just as many, if not more, hostile things now. So, Katherine couldn't be stupid.

It had been then that she realized she had been trembling, and at that moment tried to restrain it. This wasn't the time to be weak, that would be the kind of people who would die here.

Scarfing down a good deal of the portion of food, she remained standing, gun nearby and not yet ready to fire-through loaded. To say the least, she probably didn't seem very lady-like at the moment. Yet, at the moment that was at the very bottom of the large list of her worries. Manners meant nothing if you were dead. After hurriedly cleaning herself of whatever mess she had made in the process of eating, after no more than a few minutes of doing so, the young brunette returned to doing her best to keep watch on the area about them.

Her eyes continued to repeatedly survey the area, trying to see the things scurrying nearby with more clarity-and occasionally checking on the direction in which she had heard a bullet split the air in such a disturbing way. All the meanwhile, the brunette had her tensed and forcibly collected self stand nearby the main fire and the other friendly people she had only recently been acquainted with.

"...How long are we going to stay by the fire, trying to hold off whatever it is so close to us? We won't be able to keep it up forever..." She hoped those among the group, older than her, would be able to offer her some great plan-because at the moment her mind was an absolute, terrified, blank. While Kathy had the ability to manage to force herself to keep a calm attitude for the most part, despite her eventual falters in doing so, Adler wasn't able to think of what to do. At that point, the focus was more on shooting whatever might come too close without warning.

I had many things running through my head: Who are these people? What are these noises I hear? Why is she calling me a woman? Maybe she couldn't see my beard, or face, for that matter. Was it my voice? I don't think I have a girlish voice. I didn't see why see thought that. Either way I took a few more steps, lowering the machete a bit, but it was still in view. I heard footsteps, not of me, nor they. I was sweating already due to earlier today's heat. I was losing my grip on the machete, my hands were shaking, sweating.

Did the Radiation turn me into a woman?

"If you're out here to hurt us, or take what we have...I'll shoot your head off."

I didn't know what to do. After all, she a gun. Most of them did. I could run out, machete in the air, lookin' scary, and get shot up like Bonnie and Clyde. 'Cept, I'd be both. Someone else came by, talking about some light. I wasn't paying attention. they all had their eyes dead locked on me, or the area around the fire. I heard footsteps growing louder. I walked close enough to the fire to where they could see me. I still held my machete firmly in hand.

"I don't plan on getting myself killed, but you need to put them guns down." I said.

I walked a few feet closer, "I was wondering-"

I was cut off there, something had tackled me to the ground. I fell on my back and it was already on top of me. Dear Lord, I didn't know what it was, but it was terrible looking. It smelled of rotting flesh, the smell I'm now all too familiar with. I reached my hand up to its neck grabbing it. Taking my other hand, I brought my machete to its neck, digging it inward. Blood was pouring onto my chest, and thankfully, only my chest. It was mangled in the neck, dead. I pushed the limp body off me, getting up and running over to the fire. I drew my machete back out, blood flying off it as it swung. The footsteps grew louder. I was afraid, for the first time in my life (Other than first leaving the shelter). Would I survive? I could give a rats ass about them, but me? I hope. Being dead would really piss me off...

Dan was trying the best to remain calm, as the rest of the survivors began to panic. All of them were trying to remain calm, at least they were trying, yet some were indeed nervous. Dan was just as nervous as some of the other survivors. He barely knew these people, and had never met any of them in his life. Yet in this dangerous situation, he felt kind of relaxed, being with people who were going through the same thing as he was. So while nobody noticed, Dan raised a little smirk, thinking about what to do next. Holding his pistol tight, he heard sounds from a distance that did not sound good. The sounds consisted of some screaming, followed by the sound of flesh being cut, then someone breathing deeply.

Nervous, yet intrigued, Dan stood up immediately, raised his pistol nearby the sound, and used his flashlight to find the man who was involved. It was one of the men who was nearby, trying to get to the fireplace, which seemed like the only safe place right now. Yet, even the camp was starting to feel unsafe. Looking at the man from a distance, Dan talked loud enough so the man could hear him.

"What the hell just happened? Why are you covered in blood? Answer, now!". Dan was starting to feel his stomach rise as he saw the man, just as terrified as himself, covered in blood, wielding a stained machete. He didn't know who the man was, but was uneasy about seeing him in the state he was.

Stop being such a damn cowardly little [censored] Collie. Act like a [censored] man for once. You're just like your mother.

Collie Entragian is afraid of the dark. His time in the basemant had been acceptable only because of the light his father had installed, it was nothing like those times in the closet when he....

Collie is afraid of the dark and so he runs toward the light. Around this small campfire stands a small group of people, one of whom is wielding a bloody machete. Collie doesn't really want to shoot him..well...no not really.

Most of the people in the group see him coming and some ready their weapons in case he becomes a threat, as he gets close enough to see them by the flickering firelight he slows down to a jog and then finally a walk.

Walking into the reach of the light of the flames he hears these words,

"What the hell just happened? Why are you covered in blood? Answer, now!"

Collie stands beside the man asking the question spooking him a bit, but someone standing next to you when you are staring down a man with a bloody knife at least a foot long is always comforting.

Collie raises the rifle to approximately the man's chest level.

"I don't want to kill again mister, but I'm not no [censored], I'll do it if I have to."

OOC- Oh, sorry. D: There's a really complicated answer for why I thought your character was female in that last post of mine, but yeah...embarrassing. Won't do it again, though. x)

---

"I don't plan on getting myself killed, but you need to put them guns down." he had said. The stranger, who she now realized was male-the fear really was getting to her head, apparently, and him being in the distance perhaps hadn't helped. Maybe some sleep would do her good-though as weary as Katherine felt at that point, sleep wasn't really smart at the moment.

Still, at the comment about guns, the Hispanic girl grimaced, allowing her attention to be lost from the situation to glance at the man with a knife in his hand. "Are you stupid, or crazy? Something out there isn't friendly, around us, and I'm not about to put away my gun so that whatever it is can kill me. Besides, I'm not gonna shoot you-unless you give reason for it." At that, she raised her gun slightly-though it wasn't pointed at the bearded man at that point, but instead at the darkness. Acting like a thick cloak of blackness, and it was hard to see anything past the brilliant light of the fire.

Her focus was partially given to the man as he continued speaking, but it was when some hideous, unidentified....thing leaped onto him and interrupted whatever he was about to say that she was giving nearly complete attention toward him, a short, quiet gasp of shock blurting from her. Cocking the gun, she had been prepared to shoot the...thing-it was like something from a nightmare. Repulsive, with skin seeming to slide off, combined with that foul stench of carcasses-as if there wasn't enough of that already.

Then, the man killed it-coming back to the group somewhat bloodied. The girl's reddish brown face looked faintly dumbfounded, faintly in disbelief-and a new source of reason to fear for her life had formed just like that. Within a moment.

"You....alright?" Kathy wasn't any sort of doctor, she based most of what she thought one's health was on their opinion. After all, she had never never fancied, let alone considered, a medical career.

Then the others seemed to have been oblivious to what had happened, that the man was bloodied because he had just been ambushed by some sort of thing-they had witnessed it themselves. In his defense, she stated in a somewhat stronger manner, "Hey-now-he just got attacked by some sort of freak of nature....We all saw it, the guy wasn't far from ourselves when he got ambushed like that. The last thing he probably needs is us harassing him about it."

Looking over to the still unknown man, she commented, "You might want to stick closer to the fire...and the people with firepower." No doubt, he had impressive skills with a mere knife-but there were more out there. If multiple things like that attacked him, a machete wouldn't save his life. At this point, she didn't want to experience watching one of the few survivors being killed by what looked like zombies-only real.

Taking a small bit of wood, and lighting it, she threw it farther ahead in attempts to scare off whatever the creatures were again. It wasn't a permanent solution, as she had just seen, but it made them back up...even if only temporarily.

At the mention of one of the men saying, "I don't want to have to kill again," Kathy's look gave a sort of questioning and weary look.

"Kill again? You've killed...humans?" If he was just talking about birds, that wasn't such a big deal-usually. Killing humans, however, would be considered a red flag.

"You might want to get you're butt over here!" stated the young girl, Zoey was all to happy to oblige.

"Its probably not a good time for introductions, but I'm Zoey. What the hell happened to you?" Zoey looked at the man with the knife and bloodied up chest. A scream howled from the darkness, but it was a scream of no animal. Raising her weapon she flipped the switch on the tactical light of her weapon and illuminated the darkness in front of her, shadows flung left and right from the mess of debris. Then something scuttled in front of the light and then back out, to quick to work out what it was.

Dropping her bag to the floor Zoey quickly grabbed a bottle of water and drank a bit to calm her nerve's, scanning the are with her light whatever it or they where, where hiding well. This scared Zoey to no end as they could probably see them and could ambush them at any point. Suddenly a creature stood in the light long enough for her to see, it was revolting flesh dripped of like water as they moved in grotesque way's. They where husks of what used to be human, Zoey was pretty sure these things did not mean well and had no humanity left

"Hey guys look" She whispered

"Its disgusting, like some type of zombie or ghoul i don't think they mean well, what are we gonna do?"

Collie replies to the frightened girl,

"I think the guy I shot was maybe one of those, but it wasn't hostile...maybe it wasn't hostile yet. He asked me to do it...."

Collie ducks his head a bit embarrassed

"That guy was nice though...he wanted my help. I don't think those guys," he motions to a pair of forms leaving the decrepit building in a low slouch, "I don't think they're nice at all."

He stands as near the fire as possible both for protection and for warmth. The desert is a harsh place to live. Temperatures that soar during the day plummet come night fall. After a moment warming himself Collie approaches the body of the machete wielding man's attacker to get a better look.

The skin of the man Collie had shot had been burnt and crisp. Like sausage cooked too long. His clothing hangs in tatters, some of it stuck to the body by some form of putrefied bodily fluid. This ghoul or zombie or whatever it was was wet. This meant two things to Collie, first that they were inside when the bombs fell and second, that to retain as much moisture as they had they must spend a good deal of time inside...or they must have some way to stay hydrated.