[IC] Life finds a way.

[The Vekta-Helghast Empire]

Out of Character Thread. Theme. Character Roster. William Clarifont - The Vekta-Helghast Empire. Madeline - Fantrum. Charlie - The V O I D. Samuel Kowalski - Independent States of Tula. Hack - The V O I D. Mouse - The V O I D. Jimmy Barrow - United Human Planets. Turner - Calindelo. Derek Forester - Skylus. Kaylin Brewer - Dyelli Beydi. Daniel Entemont - Tectonix. Alexander Washburn - Granis. William Clarifont, December 2nd, 2039. Morrison, Colorado, 17.5 Miles from Denver City-Center. For twenty long years he’d wandered the ruins of the old world, for some of it he had the fortune of company - but those days had been long passed. He’d seen hundreds of people die, either at the hands of others, by weaknesses in their immune system, or in the darkest of days, starvation and thirst. But the latter two had grown increasingly rare, as mankind once again found its natural ability to hunt returning and its immune system strengthening in face of decreased levels of hygiene. In many ways, the outbreak had been a blessing - it made mankind stronger, nature was sadistic like that - in order to gain strength, it had to push us to the brink, wiping out the vast majority of the population, leaving only the strongest among us. At least, that’s what William told himself - he had to believe that there was some reason for the morbid extermination of his people, of everyone he knew and loved. He had to have some hope, some faith in the abilities of himself and what few others remained. Such hope was all that could keep him going, especially at times like these - when from atop the ridges overlooking Morrison, he saw the overgrowth and wreckage below. The streets still scarred by the initial panic and chaos of the outbreak, cars clogging the highway, decaying slowly but surely - skeletal remains littering the streets, picked clean by encroaching wildlife and the elements over decades of neglect. More intentional damages such as bullet-holes and craters from military actions during the brief period of martial law, when the nation fell into seemingly civil war and people struggled with determining who was in charge anymore. A constant reminder of the darkest days in his life - forever refreshing the haunting images that lingered in his nightmares. He’d been following Mt. Vernot Creek from route 70 southwards, edging his way around Denver - he wanted to get a lay of the land before risking any ventures into the city, and the outskirts were always the best place to look for supplies if you were planning on doing some urban exploration - people often neglecting that those who fled the city initially, didn’t get very far and brought essentially everything they owned. Or anything they perceived would be valuable in the aftermath of societal breakdown. In addition to this, the outskirts tended to have an abundance of military hardware from the failed quarantines, not that particularly much of it functioned anymore, but it made for good spare-parts and salvage. Here in Morrison also had the advantage of high-ground, with its mountain ranges spanning all the way through Utah, up to the Idaho state border. Sure, it was a tad tougher moving around, but at least it gave you some peace of mind, knowing it meant fewer people and a drastically lower rate of people taking you from behind. Don’t get me wrong, William enjoyed the company of others, but as many used to say in the old world, “Desperate times, call for desperate measures.” And once decent people, could be driven to some seriously heinous acts if they were struggling. And he’d encountered his fair share of deceitful and devious folks on the road. Some almost taking his life.

[The V O I D]

Boulder, Colorado
Approx. 28 Miles from Denver
December 2^nd, 2039

“Uncle Charlie! Uncle Charlie! Where are you? I found the last ones, holed up in some- motel.” Mouse got Bone Saw's attention, and he looked over at her. Bone Saw smiled brightly under his helmet, and then he took a moment to discipline Mouse.


“Mouse, I thought I told you to call me Bones when we're with the others.” She seemed to blush and bow her head in respect, in asking for forgiveness. “S-sorry, Bones.” Bones chuckled slightly, and then he walked over to her, ruffling her hair. He waved Hack over, who was silently looming in a corner. Hack walked over obediently, and Bones picked Mouse up, plopping her on Hack's shoulders.


“That's alright, Kiddo. Just remember, we're almost to Denver. Why, if we walked all day, we might even get there today! But we won't. First, we've got to take care of the troublemakers you've found. Then, we're headed towards Denver. Hack, you know what to do when it comes time.” Hack, for his part, simply grunted his agreement. He barely talked, and even if he did, it was usually only in response to Bones. Bones walked towards the motel that was pointed out by Mouse. They, together with a few of his other Strong, had cornered the last survivors of the small encampment that had previously been set up in Boulder. Time to determine if they were worthy to be considered Strong.


“Hack, get the door, would you?” Bones smiled. Hack simply took Mouse off his shoulders, putting her down next to him, and then walked up to the door of the motel room the survivors had put themselves into. Hack kicked the door, hard, and the door pushed back - snapping sounds indicating that the hinges were breaking. Not very surprising, they and this building - like the rest of the town and the world - hadn't been well maintained in decades. With another powerful kick, the door came right off its hinges inward. Hack held his ax tightly in a grip, entering the room first, growling slightly at the survivors. Bones walked in, Mouse at his side. Bones looked over the survivors: one man, a woman, and another person he couldn't discern one way or the other.


“So. You're the troublemakers that my little poppet found. What are you scared for? You survived. But I can see it was a fluke, just by looking at you. You're cowards. Weak. Hack... looks like we get more food.” Bones chuckled sadistically, as Hack grunted an affirmative and walked over to the group. The man stood, almost tried to fight, but a swing from Hack is all it took to slice the man open. A few more hacks and the man was in pieces. The woman and the unknown didn't survive much longer after that. What little meat didn't touch the floor was collected by some of the others, put into bags of meat and salted/filtered with alcohol to cleanse the meat. It would be eaten later. Bones turned, walked around the motel; he found a ladder. It seemed sturdy enough.


After climbing to the roof of the motel - it was a small town, Boulder - he looked out towards the southwest. Or, at least, the direction they'd been heading in to get to Denver, using old signs and maps they occasionally found, but were sometimes lost. Bones smiled.


“Denver, here we come. I wonder if you'll offer any new Strong for me?” Bones knew it wasn't all that likely, but maybe. There was hope, after all. Even if Denver didn't have any, he was sure they'd run into more settlements between Denver and the East Coast, eventually. But for some reason... Bones felt confident that Denver would have just what he was looking for. The thought put a smile on his face, as he returned to the others and they began heading out.

[Skylus]

Gee, I've never been this early to a IC thread before...

Derek Forester
December 2nd, 2039
Remains of the Forester Estate; Gilead, Maine

The setting sun cast a red glow on the once well cared for property, its beam of light shining down on the still well kept mansion tucked away in the woods.
Inside its stone walls was the remnants of a once proud British styled fort, with dust showing that various objects had been hanging for so long before being taken down, leaving an area where the wall had been untouched. The whole place seemed to be untouched, but if you looked closer, you could still see bloodstains everywhere, various objects broken, wall paper torn in places.

The layout of the mansion was as such: the foyer lead into the sitting room, which was on the right. To the left was the parlor. Directly ahead was the kitchens. The basement steps were located near the back door. Upstairs were numerous rooms, one being an armory, one being a bathroom that miraculously still worked, a laundry room, storage closet and three bedrooms.
The house sat nearby a lake, around 50 feet away from the back porch. There were remains of a barn around 15 feet off to the side, and this is where we begin our tale.
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The barn wasn't cold, thanks to the hay everywhere.
It was also a good place to store food, because food attracted rats and such things, and after a while, you got used to eating whatever you could find.
Some nights, the owner of the land would go hungry.
But not tonight.
"How much does this thing even weigh."
Because tonight, he had somehow managed to capture a full grown buck.
Derek Forester, only 19, had spent the last five years living on his own, off the land, defending the house and property from unwanted visitors, both animal and human alike. But tonight, he hoped that no one would bother him, because this buck would feed him for days on end, perhaps even two weeks, if he was lucky enough.

He had dragged the beast from the barn into the house by now, and somehow got it up onto the stainless steel island, which had been used in the past to prepare game, like Derek was about to do now.
There was a drain in the table to collect blood, it would go into a holding tank for later use, whether for dye or blood pudding or other things.
Derek reached to his side, pulled out a small dagger, tossed it in the air once and caught it by the hilt, then began to begin the process of skinning the buck.
I can use the fur for clothing, blood for dyes and food, bones for planting material, the antlers for weapons....
After the long process of skinning was done, Derek was up to his elbows in blood, but he didn't care - he had been killing things for too long to even think twice.
He then began to cut away at the muscles and fat, his dagger making long cuts in the bloody meat.
Graduis, his pet hawk, flew in through an open window and sat on a perch nearby, eyeing carcass.
Derek didn't even look up.
"You want some of this, don't you?"
The bird began to bob his head up and down and made a screeching noise.
"Alright, here."
Derek cut off a very tiny piece of meat and blindly tossed it over his left shoulder, his hawk catching the morsel of meat in his mouth and swallowing it.
After several minutes, the muscle and fat was cut away and Derek deemed that he was done with the carcass for now.
He turned to the sink behind him and cleaned himself up, taking off his blue cotton shirt in the process.
Derek then left his dagger on the table, motioned to his bird and the two went upstairs for the night, wondering what tomorrow would bring in this strange new world.

[United Human Planets]

Jimmy stood in the old bedroom and sighed, looking down at the couple that lay on the bed in front of him. They were mostly just skeletons now, but there was some scraps of clothes and wisps of hair still clinging to their frames. An empty pill bottle, and two wine glasses sat next to them on the bedside table, now moldy and cracked with time. It was a common site in the world, the little tragedies that scattered themselves all across the United States, and likely all across the world as well. It was sad, but for Jimmy, having been born and raised in the post outbreak world, and having seen the little tragedies plenty of times before it all became unspectacular. Like seeing a dead deer on the side of the road after being hit by a car. It was sad for a moment, but a minute later the little tragedies were forgotten as he picked his way through houses and cars, never being quite sure where he would end up the next day but loving it the whole time.

Jimmy sniffed, and ran his sleeve under his nose. It was dusty in the house, and he figured it was about time he got going anyways, before he started sneezing enough to wake the dead themselves. He swiveled around on the worn heal of his cowboy boots, and began to stride out of the building, his boots clipping on the hard wood floor's with every step. On his way back down the hall, Jimmy stopped briefly to open the door to the bathroom and take a quick look around, searching for anything that may still be usable. He rifled through the cabinets and drawers, but in the end the only thing he found was a bottle of rubbing alcohol with so little actual alcohol in it that it was pretty much useless.

Jimmy made his way back downstairs in the waning daylight, stepping lightly over the skeleton of a dog, (or maybe was it a wold? Hard to tell after its skin was gone.) He made one last sweep through every room in the house, sniffling on the dust, and finding nothing useful his second time through just like his first time through. He made his way through the kitchen, past the door broken inward off its hinges, and stepped out of the ugly suburban McMansion he had been scavenging and looked out at the gray sky overhead of Highland Ranch Colorado. He could see the Denver skyline splashed across the sky in front of him, standing monolithic like stonehenge.

Jimmy looked left, and saw a pair of dogs growling and circling around one another. They seemed far more interested in each other than in Jimmy, but he still felt like it would be best to try and avoid them. He looked right then, back at the Denver skyline. Jimmy sighed again, but smiled a little to himself despite his mild frustration. Cities were winding, unending corridors with nothing to eat in them and frequently a higher propensity for violent inhabitants. But, at the very least it would be an adventure.

Jimmy hefted his bag so that it was resting on his hips and not his shoulders, before leaning down and picking up his rifle which he had left leaning against the house wall next to its door. He slung it around his shoulder, before picking up his bow as well, which he slung over next to his rifle, pressed lightly against the arrows that stuck up out from his backpack. Jimmy started down the driveway of the McMansion, his boots clocking on the pavement, and lifted his hat from his head to scratch his scalp. The hat, along with his boots, was Jimmy's prized possession. He had found it in an attic in Texas, unopened and still new in its cardboard box, place away from the rest of the random detritus that was stowed away up there. As soon as Jimmy had seen the brand name on its box, he knew it was a keeper. He had taken off his New Orlean Saints hat and tossed it out the broken attic window like it was garbage, and delicately, lightly took the top off the Stetson box to reveal its contents. A Beautiful, practically mint condition cowboy had sat inside. He had lifted it up like he was Indiana Jones at the start of Raiders Of The Lost Ark. He looked inside of it, and marveled at the leather strip, and grinned like an idiot at the writing inside. "American Buffalo Collection."

Jimmy walked down the road into Denver, walking briskly and with a purpose. He felt his pistol bounce against his leg, the butt sticking out from his right side pocket. The two canteen's that hung from his backpack clunked together, and he could hear the water sloshing against the metal. In the distance he heard a brief flurry of gunshots, followed by a brief pause and then another flurry of gunshots. Jimmy perked up then, and rotating his head form side to side, checking to see that there was no one around. He saw no one, but still he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was probably nothing, but Jimmy felt it was best to keep and eye open. He walked on, heading North West into Denver from Highlands Ranch Colorado.

[Fantrum]

Tamarisk, Colorado

Madeline hunched lower and pulled her greatcoat tighter to her against the blowing cold. God did she detest winter, the only reason she hadn't fled from this frozen hellpit was the vain hope that she might one day return to her lost home in the mountains. As it stood, she had already attempted to make the trek over the imposing crags that formed the great Rocky mountains, and that venture had almost cost her her life. She had learned a hard lesson, that in winter the mountains became an impassible fortress for anyone travailing alone and without the support of a large group.

Of course, she should have known this, but the thought of being stuck in Denver for the winter wasnt a cheerful one. Plenty of people still called the blasted and desecrated graveyard home, and not many of them took kindly to strangers. And not without good reason. If her wandering had taught her anything, it was that someone you meet at random will just as likely shoot you as say hello.

It didnt make her life any easier since her goal was the airport, it had been the site of a massive military operation, in conjunction with Buckley AFB, and she wanted to take a poke around it. She'd scouted it from afar a few times in passing through the years, but had never gathered up the courage to actually enter the area, nor the base. Maybe she would find some shelter too, the way she figured, at the very least it was a good place to hole up until winter passed and she could continue to Aspen.

Currently though, she trudged through the snow along route 8, a road called Morrison road if the rusted sign was to be believed. The map situated in her backpack had pointed her in this direction, and since Morrison had been right where it said it should be, she didnt distrust the map. She needed to keep her eyes pealed however, just because she had made it through Morrison without incident didnt mean her life would stay that way. She lamented that there wasnt a way for her to cover her tracks left behind in the relatively light snow, but there wasnt anything she could do about that. Her white great coat would have to do.

The bed sheets she'd tied around her backpack and legs helped conceal her shape too, along with the added benefit of keeping her warm. She knew from experience that it would only get worse from here, seeing as January was right around the corner, and if she didnt set up a good hideout before then she would be a goner.

With her gear clanking reassuringly against her back, Madeline continued on, ever vigilant eyes scanning the horizon around her. The open spaces around the highway were a killing ground, so she stuck to cover where she could, it would be much easier to move around unseen when she made it into the city proper, but she couldnt help feeling terribly exposed, and without a firearm, well, she preferred to not think about that and absently touched her right shoulder. No, guns were loud and gave away your position. Not to mention how high maintenance they were, her bow, named Eva, was more than enough for self defense and hunting. Albeit at a much closer range than afforded by a gun.

Still, it didnt stop her from wishing she had one just in case.

[The Vekta-Helghast Empire]

William Clarifont, December 2nd, 2039.
Morrison, Colorado, 17.5 Miles from Denver City-Center.

He’d sat atop the ridge for sometime, just taking inventory and scoping out the town below. An hour, maybe two must’ve passed before there was any sign of life - and it wasn’t the kind he was hoping for. As he hauled his backpack over his shoulder a faint rumble could be heard behind him - at first it gained nothing more than a glance over his shoulder, he’d heard similar sounds for hours, but never saw anything - he always just thought it’d been the wind blowing through the hills. Oh how wrong he’d been. The rumbles, or should I say growls - soon returned, only this time they were much closer. They must’ve been only a meter or two behind him - a group of four, maybe five grey wolves glaring at him, fangs on display for all to behold. His heart sunk, and slowly he reached for his ice-axe by his hip, backing up, the slope slowly taking him before he fell into a total backwards tumble down onto the CO-8, the beasts rushing down to try and circle him, but he was fast to his feet - unfortunately, not quite as fast as he’d liked. The beasts cut him off from retreat and he was forced to edge closer to Morrison, at this point - totally unaware of another person’s presence, who must’ve just passed in the few moments before his tumble, while he’d been packing his things.

He lowered his torso somewhat as if to brace, watching the beasts closely as he shuffled back, ensuring they couldn’t surround him - knowing that such circumstances would surely mean his death, ”Hey there pups.. There’s no need to get bitey.. I’ve got plenty of food to go around, eh?” Clearly the beasts had no ability to understand or even a want to understand his futile attempts at communication - as they only seemed to gain momentum in their approach, causing him to lose some of his footing in his hastened retreat. Seconds later the first of the wolves bounded forwards in an all-out offensive, leaping in an attempt to clearly go for William’s neck. Quickly he hurtled onto his back, bringing up his knees and hurling it over his head, axe scraping its side as it was forced from atop him. Shortly after another two beasts approached, his feet flailing in an attempt to boot them back, only to find one boot lodged in the maw of one, and the other furiously attempting to repel the second beast’s offensive. Then the final two beasts finally made their move, one rushing up to go for his arm, getting a brief grasp before finding itself with a pick to the brow. His heart raced beneath his chest, breath unsteady and totally terrified, knowing that this was a situation clearly not leaning in his favour. His axe struggled to dislodge itself from the fallen wolf’s skull, and the one he hadn’t been able to strike found its teeth lodged in his sleeve, fortunately not clasping the arm itself, merely pulling at the fabric, making his struggle to free his weapon that much harder.

With little options remaining, he went for a more primal response, roaring in the face of the beasts as they went for him, the one he’d tumbled earlier getting a bit of a fright, clearly not anticipating the yell. Forcing it to stumble as it retreated, yet kept in striking range - a claw coming forwards and leaving a shallow scratch across the side of his head before finally the ice-axe broke free. A quick woosh could be heard in the air as the axe walloped the creature that’d clawed at his head, the blunt, wide side of the axe whacking it, causing a fair amount of pain, but no breakage in the flesh or lethality. Forcing the beast, to once again retreat out of range. Yet the air still filled with the growls and snarls of the pack, their teeth gnawing at William’s feet and left arm. But they soon grew wiser. The one he’d been fending off with the base of his foot lept aside, dodging an incoming blow before jerking forwards - straight into William’s thigh, the terrifying fangs piercing straight through his weakened pants, leaving a significant gash along his thigh and a blood-curdling scream of pain in the air.

[Fantrum]

Tamarisk, Colorado

She heard it almost before the sounds of battle reached her, a wolf pack. They normally didnt let themselves be heard until it was too late, as she had learned on the outskirts of Chicago, but these were clearly not after her. Slowly rotating her head around she located which way the commotion was coming from, directly behind her. Drawing her bow, she crouched low and started to move quickly, quietly, towards the raging battle.

But then she stopped. Who was she to intervene in nature's work? They werent stalking her, indeed they had their prey. If she left now she certainly wouldnt have to worry about them coming for her. But what if it was she who was being mauled by a ravenous pack of wolves? Wouldnt she want someone to come save the day for her? As unlikely as that was to happen, she did.

Once again the snow crunched under her boots as she ran, and came upon the scene not a hundred feet from her. The small girl froze again, this time watching the struggling form of a man as he desperately fought for his life against insurmountable odds. Her breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes on it. There was still time, she could just turn around and leave, he had already killed one and badly wounded another, but the others had moved in for the kill, and it would be over in a moment.

"Fuck!" She whispered under her breath, gritting her teeth together as she notched an arrow. "Fuck!" She said again, louder this time. "FUCK!" She yelled, not quite at the top of her lungs but enough to grab the animals attention. The first one had enough time to perk its head up before it caught her arrow in the neck, felling the beast instantly. With practiced ease, Madeline notched another arrow even as the wounded one and another not actively engaged in killing the man rushed her. Her arrow loosed and flew true, punching through the animal's skull and lodging in its head, the wounded one fell dead.

Now the last one was coming at her too, but she had more pressing matters as the closer wolf lunged. In a flash of silver her sword came out, just in time to block the thrashing jaws an inch from her face. With her free hand she grabbed the wolf's throat and parried it away, cutting its mouth with her sword as she yanked it free from its mouth. Now the second one was upon her, and together they faced her. Swallowing hard, she assumed her fighting stance, dominate foot forward and feet spaced apart.

The slight movement was enough for the lead wolf, and it lunged for her again, but this time she had her weapon already out. Ducking low, she brought the blade across its soft underbelly as it jumped over her, feeling its viscera spill on her. But she didnt have time to adjust because the last wolf had seen its opening, and it comped down on her arm just above the elbow, dragging her off balance and onto the ground with a yell.

Pain speared her mind as it started to crew and thrash madly, trying to take her arm off. She could feel the tendons in her left arm start to strain, but still she kept her composure. Using the beast's weight as leverage, she twisted her body around and stabbed the wild animal in its chest, then she broke out of its grip and straddled its back, yanking out the sword and bringing it down, into the poor thing's neck from above.

Panting hard from the exertion, Madi scanned around for any stragglers that might need to be dealt with before taking stock of her own injuries. Her left arm hung limply and blood steadily dripped from it, nothing to worry about for right now, but soon shed need to bandage it. Slowly, deliberately, she walked toward the man, stopping only to retrieve her arrows from the rapidly cooling corpses.

She stood over him, blade still in hand, and looked him over. He had a nasty bite on his thigh and a cut on his head but otherwise looked fine. "Can you walk? We cannot stay in the open for long." She looked over her shoulder at a nearby building, a pre school of sorts, it looked pretty worse for wear but would do to shelter them for the time being.

[Dyelli Beybi]

Outskirts of Denver

Kaylin had reached the eastern edge of Denver five days ago. She had been travelling without a map, heading generally in the direction of the mountains. She hadn't been aiming for the city and it had taken her somewhat by surprise, only becoming aware of it when she had cleared a creeper from one of the old-world green and white road signs and found herself next to a turnoff to 'Denver Int'l Airport'. She had considered avoiding the town; there would almost certainly be people in it and the graves of the old world made very easy ambush spots. If Denver were host to a major population then it would attract bandits into the outskirts, like flies around a carcass and with the breakdown in infrastructure, most of the inhabited cities were insanitary disease pits anyway.

On the other hand, Colorado was dry, her canteen was close to empty and she knew there was a river that ran through the town. She had skirted the centre of town and on the banks of the South Platte river she had encountered a young couple with a child in tow. She didn't ask their story, they didn't ask hers, but they had shared a campfire for the night and in the morning she had traded a half a block of soap, which they only looked mildly enthusiastic about, for a look at the pre-plague map they were carrying. Apparently there were quite a few bodies of water in the area including a couple of large reservoirs up in the foothills of the mountains that promised to have both a supply of fresh water and provide a lure for game. If she didn't freeze. That might be somewhere she could stay for a while, particularly if there were a few like-minded people looking for somewhere to start afresh. She considered staying with the family, but they were heading into town looking for a remnant of a dead civilisation. It didn't appeal to Kaylin. The old world was dead and for all its technological marvels had been fundamentally broken. There was no point trying to resurrect it.

That morning they said their farewells. Kaylin headed west for the mountains, the family headed north for the former city's centre. She had camped alone, again the next night in a building that appeared to have once been a restaurant attached to a golf course. The grass had long since withered and become pocked with so many small bushes that you would never have known there had been sport played here but the ancient, rusting buggies gave it away. As night fell she began to feel the distinct pang of loneliness and she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake by not joining with the young family, at least for a little while.

The next day she stamped out the embers of her fire, shouldered her pack and picked up the trail west again. She was following a dual carriage way out and away from the city when she heard a distinct canine yelp. What had made the noise? Was it a coyote? Someone's dog? Perhaps a wolf? There was snarling and then a human yell, male, not far off. It sounded too far away for Kaylin to be of any assistance but she decided to load her crossbow just in case a pack of marauding predators decided she would make a good lunch.

Kaylin's crossbow was an ancient design, with a lever to pull the string into place and a stirrup to keep the weapon steady with your foot while you were doing that. It was a medieval weapon, re-purposed for a new world. It wasn't all that useful if you were making your own rifles and gunpowder but Kaylin didn't know how to do that. With a grunt of exertion she levered the string into position then slotted a quarrel into place. There was a scream then more more yelling. A woman. Peculiar, she would have thought most predators would avoid a group of humans.

She came across the scene of the fight sooner than she expected and stopped dead. There was blood, lots of blood, but more importantly there were three dead wolves. Who left three wolves just lying around for someone else to skin and eat? She took a few minutes watching from the perimeter, then, when she was sure nobody was about to come out and claim them, darted over to the carcasses.

If she were going to skin them, preserve the hies and dry the meat she would need to be here for a few days but it was worth it. Wolf pelts would be quite a trade-worthy commodity. But first she would need some wood to make drying racks. Taking hold of one of the dead wolves, Kaylin dragged it away, concealing the carcass out of the eye-line of scavenging mammals and birds. There were still plenty of things that would be able to smell the body, but that couldn't be helped. The second carcass was more interesting. There was an arrow stuck in it. Whoever had shot it had put it through the creature's skull. If they were using a broadhead (Kaylin didn't bother trying to remove it, it was of no use to her) that was no mean feat and spoke of someone who was considerably stronger than her... in the excitement of finding the carcasses, Kaylin had not been as cautious as she usually was and was completely unaware that there were other people close by, although they were almost certainly aware of her by now.

[Calindelo]

September 14, 2039
"Turner"
Ashcroft, CO


I drove around the roads of Colorado, hoping to find some food, water, or gas. The truck is nearly out of juice, and i'm sure i'm going to leave my truck, that would be a shame, since i drove that thing ever since i step foot on Colorado.

Luckily i stumbled upon a small town called "Ashcroft", as the sign on the road to the town says. I parked my truck at the side of the road and looted some of the houses on the town, i found nothing of value, except for a rusty Bolo or Machete.

Behind one of the houses, i saw a sedan with the engine running and its driver seat door open. I approached it and investigated, someone's here. Someone hid when i arrived at the town. I looked around for clues, and i saw a house at the edge of the woods, with something reflecting, then i realized, like what Mark said, it was a sniper scope. I immediately went into cover without making it obvious, and hid behind the wall of a house.

I peeked every few minutes and moved once the sniper was gone. About an hour later, i arrived at the house of the sniper undetected. I quietly opened the door and entered the house, i went up the stairs silently and i went to a bedroom door, i grabbed my pistol, i kicked the door as hard as i could and the lock broke and i aimed my gun at the people inside and i saw an elderly man and a young adult man, before the elderly man could react, i shot him in the chest, along with the young guy. I dragged the two outside. I figured that the bodies will smell, so i dug up a small hole and i pushed the bodies at the hole.

I started burying the two, and as i was burying the old man, i noticed something shiny on his left pocket, i grabbed it and i realized it was keys, i finished up and looked for locked doors in the house, and i was amazed of the stockpile of ammunition, food, water, and guns. I returned to the sedan and realized that the car has 2/3's of its tank full, Maybe staying here isn't a bad idea.

December 2, 2039
"Turner"
Ashcroft


I woke up and i put on my windbreaker, even if it doesn't protect me from winter,      i still wear it since it looks good on me, even though no one will judge me. I grabbed a can of spam and i sat at the porch while eating the canned meat with a knife. Other people would like to just stay inside and warm up, but not me, i like  the cold.

I noticed a car at the snow heading towards the house, i didn't even try to hide, i just sat at the porch fearlessly. The car stopped in front and a man, around the early 30's, came out of the car, holding a M16 rifle.

"Please... my family needs food, do you have some?"

"Yeah, yeah sure. But what's in it for me?"

"How bout' guns? I got a lot of them..."

"No." I said before taking another bite from my Can of meat.

"Gas... Yeah gas! How about that?"

After thinking about it for a while, i said "Yeah, sure, what the hell. How much we talking?"

"A can of Gas for 10 of those you're eating."

"10? No, 7. Final offer."

"Well... uhm. That's a deal."

Something was off about this guy, like he's outright scared. I told him to stay at the porch and i stood up and turnt my back on him and opened my door. I hear a gun cock behind me, i turned around and the man was aiming his automatic rifle on me. I am beggining to get furious.

"I have a new deal, how about... you tell me... where you stash your food... and you live..."

"Don't be stupid... I will end you." I said while walking towards him fearlessly, he was clearly scared shitless. I grabbed his gun by the barrel and threw his gun on the snow. He started crying.

"Please... don't kill me... i'm just scared and hungry..."

"Heh Heh Heh... if you're hungry, grab this with your mouth." I said after i cut a piece off the Spam with the knife and offered the meat with the knife. He first looked confused, but cooperated, probably because of his hunger. He opened his mouth to eat the meat with the knife, i pushed my knife into his throat, he kneeled down from choking on his own blood, and i whispered into his ear, "You should have pulled the trigger." I kicked him off the porch and he eventually died.

I noticed he wasn't alone at the car, as he was with his daughter and wife. I grabbed the man's M16 and opened the passenger seat. Out came a woman, she was clearly upset, as she attacked me as i opened the door. I was left no choice but to just shoot her. I shot her at the stomach, she survived the shot, but in pain. I opened the car's back passenger seat and found a girl, around 13, in shock. Clearly the daughter of both people. I pulled her out of the car using her ponytail and i just gunned her down, in front of her mother. I went to the bleeding woman and said, "Any last words?" She replied with "Our group will put you down". I shot her in the head with no remorse.

I didn't believe that woman's claim about a group, i mean, why would they be scared and alone in the middle of Colorado looking for food? Doesn't really makes sense to me. I siphoned the car's tank and took out the engine and put it into my truck, for emergency purposes.

A few hours later, a van stopped near the house and started firing at the house, since i haven't "cleaned up" i used the car earlier as cover and used the M16 for defense, it was like a few minutes of bullet exchanges until one of them threw a grenade, i quickly ran inside the house, the explosion destroyed the car and the front of the house, i gathered all the supplies i need and got into my truck, went the other road, and escaped. My plan is to go to Denver, because if that happens again, i need a group myself.

I should have believed that woman.

Void

[The Vekta-Helghast Empire]

William Clarifont, December 2nd, 2039.
Morrison, Colorado, 17.5 Miles from Denver City-Center.

As the engagement came to its end, thanks to a stranger sallying forth in his time of need, William gradually shuffled into an up-right sitting position, glancing over his own, bloodied body. Thankfully, it appeared most of the mess wasn't from him, but there was one very clear and looming concern - his thigh. His eyes lingered over the wound for a few moments, totally oblivious to the girl's question - his hand reaching down to gently paw at it and get a grasp of how serious his condition was - thankfully the breach didn't appear to damage any major arteries, but it was quite lengthy and split into two parallel wounds, rather than one large one. Both standing at around three inches in length but less than a centimeter in width. He took a sharp inhale as he pressed down on his injuries - finally taking notice of the woman standing over him, he couldn't help but gulp. For the first time in years, he was entirely at the mercy of another and subconsciously knew that standing up wouldn't be fun. The rattle his head took from the clawing leaving him slightly disorientated and the wound on his thigh pulsing with pain already, and he hadn't even tried to stand yet.

"I.. I don't know.." He finally commented in response to the girl, "I don't think it's too deep, but fuck is it painful.." With that brief comment, he hoped to rise to his feet, getting up into a semi-crouched position, with his wounded leg hanging slightly lower than the other - his face tensing up in clear agony as he attempted to push himself higher up, his breath growing heavy and erratic. It wouldn't be long before his leg gave out to the pain - his hand instinctively grabbing onto the woman as to prevent is fall, "Sorry.. I just.. I lost my footing.." It was at this moment, he glanced over his saviour's shoulder, noticing another woman had arrived - she must've only been a few feet away from them, how he hadn't noticed sooner was totally beyond him, he coughed faintly, "I presume.. She's with you..?" He commented, hauling himself up a tad more.

[Tectonix]

Yakutat, Alaska
December 4th, 2039

The house was certainly not some luxury estate — the garage door was splintered in some places, the porch had a a few holes where carpenter ants had eaten away at its surface, and the living room couch was sunken and mildly stained from years of use. However, to Daniel, it was the best place he had ever lived. The two-story house's front door led directly into the living room on the left side, and a small bathroom on the right. The living room was adjacent to a partition that separated it from the dining room, with wraparound windows granting it a perfect view of the Yakutat Bay. To the right of the dining room was a sprawling kitchen — Daniel had always tried his best to keep it nice and tidy, but it always seemed as if the cut-up remains of a beet or carrot just stayed on the countertop, no matter how many times he cleaned it. The stairs were just slightly ahead of the downstairs bathroom, which moved up and over the two-car garage. There were two guest rooms, another bathroom with shot plumbing, a study with another wonderful view of the bay, and the master bedroom where Daniel stayed. Even though the entire town was already caked in snow, the winter blizzards were soon to come.

---

"Who knew that these camellia sinesis shrubs could actually grow up here?" Daniel sipped his bitter green tea, still trying to get used to the flavor as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. From his vantage point in the dining room, the ice was clearly setting in for the winter. However, the Gulf of Alaska was generous this year, so Daniel roughly predicted that he had about a week before the harbor had to be shut down for good. Many of the boats had rusted away long ago, but he personally maintained two boats — a small riverboat named the Sockeye, and a slightly larger vessel named the Yakutat. The Yakutat was his favorite boat of them all — for without it, he'd be perpetually stuck in the tiny Alaskan town.

After finishing his breakfast of salted potatoes, Daniel got up and slipped on his winter gear. A heavily-insulated parka, gloves, ski mask, bulky pants and steel-toed boots were the most he had been able to pick from the abandoned houses and shops, but it served him exceedingly well. Outside his house, a large snowplow sat ready for use — he'd found it off near the town hall, and with it, he was able to plow the few roads that Yakutat had so he could walk normally. After spending about an hour plowing through the snow, he rounded a turn off the main road and entered the Yakutat Airport. The runways were clear enough of snow, a chore that he fulfilled every week or so. About an hour or so later, Daniel found himself jogging up and down the length of the runway. His breath left floating wisps of condensation behind him, and by the time he felt tired enough to stop, his ski mask was damp with sweat. Entering the airport terminal for a minor reprise from the cold (the only heated place in the town was his own home, thanks to the large fireplace in the living room), he took off the ski mask and wrung it, making sure it was as dry as possible before continuing on his way.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the sun winking off the fuselage of a small plane inside the open-air hangar connected to the terminal. The gates were clearly open, and he got up off his bench to go and close them. As he walked past the small Cessna, he subconsciously picked up the thick book that he'd left there yesterday and began to pick up where he left off.

...The Cessna 185A has, with adequate reserve and alternate fuel, a flight radius of about 600 to 700 nautical miles. There are several supplemental type certificates (STC) available to add more fuel. Many STCs are available to increase the 185's performance and utility. One allows the installation of larger 8.50 tires, another is for replacement of the engine with the 300-hp Continental IO-550, and one is a "speed mod" with fairings and fillets...

[United Human Planets]

Jimmy awoke with a start, and coughed in a hacking way into the pale morning light, eventually spitting a glob of phlegm large enough to choke a horse. That would teach him to sleep in a dusty old house. But he couldn't complain too much, It had been getting cold lately, and soon he would have to start sleeping in houses weather he like it or not.

Jimmy sat up, and looked around the living room of the house he was in. He had made it just inside the city limits of Denver before it had gotten dark, and he had been forced to shuffle his way into a nearby apartment building, feeling his way along the walls and just barely able to make anything out in the dim light before he found a house that didn't have dead occupants already there. Jimmy pushed the quilt off of his legs, revealing his legs and a pair of pink yellow Spongebob boxers. Jimmy slid his feet into his boots, and put his sheep's wool jacket over his body. He stood, and made his way out onto the porch. He was on the second story of the building, but there were porches for all the houses on both the first and second floors, with stairs that led from the ground up to the second floor porches.

Jimmy breathed in the crisp morning air, and pissed contentedly onto the grass below him. He watched as the sun climbed up into the sky, orange against the pale blue atmosphere. When he was finished, he turned and walked back into the apartment, and sat on the couch again next to his quilt. His mother had made him that quilt when he was little, and it was the only thing he had brought with him from home when he left. Jimmy hoped that one day he would have children of his own, and he would be able to give that quilt to them. He looked around the room for a minute or two, just getting used to being awake again and not asleep, before kicking off his boots and pulling his bag closer to him. Jimmy pulled a pair of pants out of the bag, and put them on, before putting his boots back on and tucking the hem of his pants over them. He stood, and wandered into the kitchen and started looking around. He didn't expect to find much, but it was better to look and be certain than to just assume otherwise.

Jimmy picked through all of the floor cabinets, before moving onto the fridge. He opened the refrigerator, and finding nothing opened the freezer next and promptly slammed it shut again. He didn't know who the last occupant had been, but they had clearly not brought all of the meat with them, and it was now rotting and putrid in the decrepit old freezer. Jimmy stumbled out of the kitchen, coughing and gagging, trying to not throw up from the smell. He stood doubled over in the hall for a minute, catching his breath and breathing sweet sweet non putrid air.

When he couldn't smell the meat in his nose anymore, Jimmy stood up straighter, and decided to check out the rest of the house. Other than the living room, where had been sleeping, there was a short hallway with a bedroom on each end and a bathroom in the middle. Jimmy chose the bathroom first, and rifled through the cabinets, eventually finding a strip of gauze. He stuck it in his pocket, and made his way to the room on the right. He dug around, but found nothing of use, and instead made his way to the room on the left, where he found his real prize. There, sitting on the dresser, was a half full bottle of whiskey. Jimmy could remember the old folks talking about how valuable a 10 year aged whiskey was before the plague, so Jimmy could only dream about who he might be able to get out of a 20 or more aged whiskey. For all he knew, he might be able to buy a little kid with it if he really wanted too.

Jimmy grinned like and idiot, and took the whiskey with him, before making his way out onto the porch. He pulled the sliding glass door open, feeling the crisp air hit him again, when he saw his dream step out in front of him like God himself had decided to smile on Jimmy that day. A horse stood in front of him, grazing on the tall grass of the apartment complex. A saddle already sat on its back, a few stray pieces of camping material clinging to the saddle. Jimmy gawked, and put the whiskey down on the porch, already forgotten in the name of fresh transportation. Jimmy noticed that there was a single workbook hanging out of the left side stirrup, a makeshift spur attached to its heal. Jimmy wondered absentmindedly where the owner of the horse could be.

Suddenly it dawned on him, the boot still hung from the stirrup, almost as if the rider had been dragged along for sometime before his foot eventually fell out of the boot and the body was left forgotten somewhere else. He thought back to the gunshots he had heard yesterday, and he wondered if the horse was somehow connected.

Jimmy started slowly making his way downstairs, and the horse glanced up at him apprehensively. Jimmy stopped as the horse looked at him, a look of concentration on his face. When the animal went back to its breakfast of grass, Jimmy set forward again. He hit the grass under the apartments porch, and started out towards the horse. It looked up at him again, and made a slight neigh and backed up, its eyes looking a little more frightened.

Jimmy stopped again, and crouched a little lower, holding his hand out. "Whoa there," he said, his voice hushed and quiet. It surprised him a little, the sound of his voice. He hadn't spoken in at least two or three weeks. "Im not gonna hurt you, Im a friend."

The horse watched him apprehensively, but stopped backing away. Jimmy made his way forward slowly, keeping his hand up and quietly talking to the horse, until he was right in front of it. He reached his hand out, and lightly touched the front of the animals face. The horse briefly bucked its head back, but Jimmy quickly brought his other hand up and held under the horses jaw, and continued to stroke the horse. It calmed soon after. Jimmy grinned widely as he stroked the horse, looking it over for any sign of sickness or injury, but it seemed like it was alright and perfectly fit.

“Your not so bad are you?” said Jimmy, grinning widely. He made his way around the side of the horse, and pulled the boot out from the stirrup and looked it over. It was leather, though he suspected it was fake leather judging by the cracked paint look of the creases.

Jimmy looked back at the horse, and it lifted its head from the grass and looked at him, a fluff of green sticking out of its mouth. “You think you wanna come with me?” said Jimmy.

The horse didn’t respond, but Jimmy didn’t care. The horse was truly a prize. A prize so great, he had practically forgotten about the whiskey already. He made his way back to the horses front, and stroked its nose once more before taking the reigns in his hands and leading the animal back to the porch steps, and tying them to the railing. The horse ding even seem to notice, and just commenced eating the grass, not paying any more attention to Jimmy now that it felt confidant he wouldn’t hurt it.

Jimmy himself made his way quickly back up the stairs. He was exited by his new companion, but the boot hanging front the stirrup worried him. If its original rider had been killed, it was likely that the killers were still lurking in the area somewhere, and he wanted to get away from that danger fast.

He took the stairs two at a time, coming to the top and seeing his whiskey again, he picked it up and carried it inside. He sat on the couch, and pulled out his other two pairs of pants and wrapped them around the glass bottle, before putting the bundle back into his bag. He quickly gathered up his gear, rolling his quilt, washing and putting away his mess kit, putting his pistol in his pockets and slinging his bow and his rifle over his shoulder before heading back outside.

He pulled the few extra things still clinging to the horses saddle off, and threw them on the ground around him in a heap, before getting to work tying his own things on. In about 20 minutes, he had finished, and Jimmy pulled himself up onto the horse.

He had ridden before, but it had been years ago, and Jimmy swayed in the saddle as he tried to catch his balance. It would take him awhile to get used to the process of horse riding, but he had enough of a background that he understood the basics. With a slight kick of his boots and a smile, the horse was off, and Jimmy jerked backward.

He nearly fell, but managed to catch himself and pull himself back on. When he felt confidant, he reached forward and stroked the horses neck. “Its just you and me now buddy,” he said. “Just you and me against the world, just Jimmy and. . . uh. . . Horse! Just Jimmy and Horse riding across the land, kicking up sand, sheriffs posse’s on our tail cause we’re in demand.” Jimmy giggled a little to himself then at the quote. He had first heard the Beastie Boy’s as a kid when he was still living in Louisiana, and Paul Revere had always been his favorite song by them.

“Yeah,” he continued. “Jimmy and Horse, off to conquer america.” He continued talking as he and Horse traveled onwards, a near constant stream of thought soliloquy. He decided that he liked Horse. Most humans would have told him to shut up after a while, but Horse didn’t seem to care at all. Horse was just happy to have a protector, and Jimmy was just happy to have someone listen to him rant.

[Fantrum]

Tamarisk, Colorado

It took a lot of Madi's self control to keep from jerking away from the man as he grabbed her for balance. Partly because this was a strange man in a strange land, she was wounded, and he had grabbed that wounded arm. And that hurt like a mother fucker. Through gritted teeth she managed to help the guy to his feet, hissing in pain the whole time.

Ice gripped Madiline's head when he asked about a second person. Voice barely above a whisper, she grunted, "I travel alone." The way she figured, if the second person wanted to kill them, they would have done so before they had been noticed. Slowly, so as not to get shot for her troubles and to keep her rescuee from falling on his wounded leg, she turned to get a good look at the newcomer. It was indeed a woman, and though she toted a crossbow, Madeline had a gut feeling she wasnt going to use it on them. Thankfully, Madi really didnt want to kill anyone today, or in general.

She had rarely killed before, and then only under great duress, as it wasnt something she enjoyed doing. Her humanity was the only thing that kept her from joining the animals laid low in the snow around her, and she had no intention of that happening anytime soon. Carefully, she leaned down and cleaned the blade with the pelt of a wolf that had been nailed with an ice pick and sheathed the instrument with practiced ease. Still conscious of the blood trickling down her arm, Madi cradled it and took a few steps toward the decrepit pre-school, stopping only long enough to make sure her companion hadnt fallen on his face.

Turning again, she called back to the unknown woman, "Keep the wolves." And continued on to the school. As much as she would love to chat, she had sprung a pretty serious leak, and needed to take her warming clothes off to get at it. Obviously she couldnt do that out here in the open, so the school would have to do. Whether or not the man followed her wasnt really as important to her as patching herself up, but she couldnt help an inkling of concern for the hobbled man, just as she felt for anyone she came across.

Madeline wasnt an idealist. She knew for a fact that most people were vile and wicked, deserving no more than an arrow in the neck. But had that always been the case? There was a time, a time grandpa would tell her stories of during the long nights spent hunting game, when people could greet each other in the streets. No one carried weapons for fear of attack at any moment, food was never an issue, and even if you fell on the hardest luck of your life, there was a way out. Nowadays one mistake would be the end of you. And that one mistake for Madeline was simple, she desperately wanted to believe in the better nature of people. Maybe that was what made her go out of her way, and even spill her own life for people who would never do the same for her, or maybe it was just her narcissistic need to be seen as a mysterious hero who walked a lonesome path, spreading justice wherever she went.

Madi had a feeling it was the former. Despite her need to care for her fellow human, she also knew she needed to keep moving, and she could move faster alone. Ultimately, however much she believed men could do better given the chance, she was safer by herself. A lonesome road indeed, but a safe one.

[The Vekta-Helghast Empire]

William Clarifont, December 2nd, 2039.
Morrison, Colorado, 17.5 Miles from Denver City-Center.

As his rescuer mentioned that she traveled alone, he couldn't help but sigh, allowing a single word to escape his lips, "Fuck.." Clearly expecting the worst - but the woman who'd saved him's casual approach to the situation seemed to relieve him greatly, even giving him the courage to allow a slight smirk. "Yeah, just be sure to send me those two via Fedex, they're mines. Know what, I'll come by your place, just leave your address and phone number.." He seemed to comment rather calmly, clearly trying to break the tension before following along with his saviour, giving a light snicker. Sighing with relief as they made those first few steps away from the new arrival, tensing up slightly as he expected some kind of response.

He kept a steady pace behind his saviour as she made her move, hopping his healthy leg along while limping with as much haste as he could muster as to try and not slow her too much (not that he thought she'd wait for him, should he fall behind - but he'd rather take his chances with the woman that saved him than the new one with a massive crossbow), his voice grew a tad hoarse, no doubt due to the pain shooting through his body. Quietly he shifted his pistol from his rear end to his front, tucking it into his belt once again as he spoke, "Hey uh, thanks for.. Well, not letting me become dog food back there.. It's uh.. Rare to find someone who wouldn't let them just maul me then loot my corpse.. Then again, for all I know.. You're just a sick motherfucker wanting to kill me herself.." He concluded with a light chuckle, clearly hoping to just lift their spirits before once again starting to speak, "It's William by the way.."

It didn't take long for him to get tired, shuffling along like that with the pain shooting through you and uphill too was quite the struggle. Though, he still managed to get about three quarters of the way before breaking a sweat, despite the crisp winter air. Yet through a sheer force of will-power, he kept up the pace, even forcing an attempt at conversation, "So how long's it been? Y'know, traveling alone.. World's not exactly great for lone wanderers.. As I stand a testament to.. It's been.. Maybe fifty, sixty days for me.. Bandits. Took out the other boy I was travelling with.."

[Fantrum]

Tamarisk, Colorado

He was trying to make conversation, of course he was. It was only human to do so. Still clutching her gimpy arm, Madi sighed inwardly and turned her head as she walked, watching the man struggle. Reluctantly she slowed her pace enough for him to keep up more easily, but didnt offer herself for him to support himself with.

At the mention of her possibly being a murderer she flashed him a glare that could melt the snow underfoot, then relented and chuckled softly herself, "Honestly the wolves would have been after me next had you not distracted them." Her gaze turned just a touch more serious as she lied through her teeth, "It was really just more convenient to take care of them while they were busy having a meal." How this man had allowed himself to be overtaken, was beyond her. She hadnt seen him with a gun, but she was almost certain he had at least one somewhere on his person.

That meant he'd been caught completely unawares. Poor guy, it was a wonder how he'd lasted this long. Maybe he was just lucky? That must have been it. How else could he have stumbled through life this far? Smiling absently at the thought, she returned to the 'conversation.'

"Im..." The small girl hesitated, she didnt want to give out her name too much, it tended to come back to her in the long run. But what should she say? Thinking quickly, she cleared her throat and continued, "Im Hess." She didnt look at him as she spoke this time, choosing to stare at the ground instead. At his question, her mind flashed back to her old mentor, Lucas. She didnt let the sadness she felt from his memory show however, "About four years." She said softly.

Sure she had spent the odd day or two with groups or individuals every now and then, but she never let it last past that. Not since Lucas had perished so suddenly had she spent any meaningful time with a companion. For the most part, she enjoyed it. The silence of wandering the wastes alone allowed her to reflect on her life, her choices, and why she did what she did. But she couldnt run from the fact that every time she met someone in the wastes, someone she didnt have to run from or kill, her desire for friendship grew exponentially. No matter how she fought it, the void inside her heart was infallible, and she was reminded of how lonely she could get in every face she saw.

That didnt matter now, it didnt help to get all philosophic in front of strangers.

[The Vekta-Helghast Empire]

William Clarifont, December 2nd, 2039.
Morrison, Colorado, 17.5 Miles from Denver City-Center.

Her chuckle seemed to be enough to ease the tension for him, allowing a slight smile to come across his face, it'd been far too long since he'd heard another person's voice, or more importantly another person's chuckle. He'd always loved the company. He couldn't help but smile a bit more widely as she spoke about the wolved, "How charming. Lucky for you I make good dog-food, huh? Though, shame you weren't a quicker shot." He once again offered a snicker, motioning to her hand, "But still, I thank you. If you weren't so opportunistic, I'd be dead. Or at least a lot uglier. Not that I'm particularly pretty now." Although he self-deprecated, he certainly wasn't the ugliest man in the world - his face was well defined with a strong jawline and cheek-bones. And he had no real major natural blemishes, the only real off-put being the dirt, blood and God knows what else. And the fact he could do with, at the very least, a trim - his beard was uneven and not particularly cleanly.

He offered another smile at the mention of her name, "Hess, huh? Alright, I'll bite.. Lovely name -Hess-." He commented, clearly unconvinced - quickly shuffling closer as she slowed to a more reasonable pace for him. Staying relatively close, but not close enough to cause any major discomfort, "What's it stand for, Hessandra? Or is it a last name, in which case.. Sprechen irgendein Deutsch?" He asks rather enthusiastically, his accent turning completely. As if he were naturally of the tongue.

He seemed to shift awkwardly as she mentioned how long she'd been on her own, admittedly he'd had great fortune in the years since the end, at least as far as company went - rarely had he been alone, at least by comparison to so many others, he'd even met someone just the year before, who'd been alone since day-one. But they'd preferred it that way, unlike William. He almost needed the company, to be alone and vulnerable had to be his biggest weakness - he despised it, even if it did make things easier. The ease of feeding just one mouth never filled the void of Human contact, "Four years, huh? Fuck. By choice, or just shit luck? Don't know if I could ever go that long, think I might lose it.. Not that I haven't come close on occasion - That's the only downside to company.. Sometimes things don't turn out the way you want." Unlike her, he clearly had zero problem with getting philosophical around strangers.

"And sometimes they're just cunts." Nor crude..

[Independent States of Tula]

Samuel Kowalski, December 2nd, 2039.
Morrison, Colorado

Ten years, Samuel had been alone for ten years, constantly moving and constantly watching the people around him. That's how he stayed alive, he kept himself hidden but knew where other people were, and rarely if ever did he ever reveal himself. To do so was to invite death, to do so was to invite a knife in the back or a cut throat in his sleep, and so aside from the random bandit needing a bullet in his head so Samuel could keep moving...the survivor kept to himself for the better part of the decade. Unsurprisingly this didn't help his talking skills, what little he'd once had anyway, and it wouldn't surprise Sam if he would be hoarse from lack of use if he was to speak now. Not that he would now, now there were three people on the road leading up to Red Rocks Elementary School, which just so happened to have a man named Samuel wearing camouflage for the woods silently perched on the roof and observing them through his magnified scope of his AR-15.

He'd watched since the man was attacked by the wolf pack, watched as the first woman came to help him, and then as the third obliviously began trying to steal a few wolf corpses. Samuel couldn't help but roll his eyes at that, people would be people, they'd make mistakes and they'd do so just trying to survive in this world. As Samuel continued to watch the three individuals he took note of the two wounded ones who'd fought the wolves starting on their way towards the school who's roof Samuel was currently occupying. Sam frowned at that, he hadn't been wanting company, and so he slowly pulled back from the edge of the roof to hide himself from their sight, checking his rear to see that the door to the roof was still barricaded as he'd found it. That's how Samuel had gotten to the roof, when he was searching the school he found that the door to the roof wouldn't budge, and so thinking he might find something up there he circled the building to find a ladder leaned up against the backside of the school opposite the road leading to it, unfortunately nothing was up there and the whole building had been a bust for Sam.

However, Sam had made a mistake, he'd decided that despite the school being a bust he'd camp out in it for the night to avoid the cold winds...he'd left his backpack with all his supplies in one of the old classrooms inside. Now there were two or possibly three people coming for that building, and Samuel didn't want to give them his stuff. He had two options, either go down the old creaking ladder and try to rush back into the building before they got in...or sneak in from the roof after de-barricading the doorway and try to sneak past them once they were in so he could get out with his things. It was a tough choice, speed or stealth? Mentally cursing himself Sam went for the door, crouching over to the blocked off doorway Sam began removing the old wooden school-desks and chairs that were blocking it, trying to do so as silently as possible, which meant as slowly as possible...probably more than enough time for the two or three people to reach the building and enter it.

Now, it was just a matter of being quiet, Sam kept his rifle up and turned on the RMR on top of the optic just in case he had to use the trusty weapon...and then he slowly began making his way down into the school.

[Fantrum]

Tamarisk, Colorado

Madi found herself growing uncomfortable as the man launched into his little tirade. Not for any fault of his own either, she just didnt know how to respond in any way that would carry the conversation. Not that she was enjoying the minute amount of talking that was going on. Really! She could indulge in it now because she knew, as sure as the gray sky above, that it wouldnt last. One way or another she would end up alone again. In reality she welcomed it, it was something she knew. She was comfortable with it, it was her rut and she was always able to go back if need be. Now spending time with a living, breathing, human being? That was different. The situation could go in so many directions it was impossible for her to plan for them all.

A sad frown crossed her face at the thought. Salvation appeared as they reached the school, saving her from having to reply as she drew out her sword and pried open a half closed door with it. The hinges screeched in protest, having been almost rusted into one solid peice of metal, but they allowed themselves to move for Madi's body as she shimmied into the crack and forced it open wide enough for William to fit.

The inside wasnt much better than the out. The stench of mold and decay filled everything with its musk but no other smells reached the woman's nose, a good sign. Holding her weapon out in front of her, she cleared the first classroom she came across and slipped into it. Half rotten wooden tables littered the room, some turned over and some crashed in half, but all sized for a tiny person to sit at. Which makes sense, Madi thought, this is a preschool after all.

Already feeling lightheaded from blood loss and exhaustion, Madi set about breaking up some furniture for a fire. In no time at all, she had managed to light a small fire in the center of a ring of more intact tables. With the warmth provided by the fire, Madeline sat, cross legged, and tenderly removed her outer layer of clothing, bomber jacket and all. Carefully removing the clothing from her still gushing wound, then she pulled out her canteen and poured water on the bite. She didnt have any alcohol to sterilize the wound, so she would just have to pray it didnt get infected. Lastly she wrapped it in a band of white cloth taken from her backpack as tightly as she could manage. She thought about cauterizing the bite, but figured it wasnt bad enough to warrant that sort of attention.

Then she removed the white sheets she'd tied around her legs and set them draped over one of the tables to dry, the whole time pointedly ignoring conversation until her chores were done. Finally free of all her winter layers, Madi spread out her greatcoat and laid on it, folding the still glistening sleeve underneath it so she wouldnt be in a pool of her own blood. She'd have to unroll her bedspread later, but for now this was what she needed.

She felt free again, in nothing but her shirt and makeshift skirt, and her mood lightened accordingly. She even let her hair down from the rough pony tail it had been in. That was when she remembered she wasnt alone this time around. She almost felt bad having left William to his own devices while she cared for herself, almost. She sat bolt upright and checked to make sure her weapons were within reach before visibly relaxing again. She'd let her guard down before, and it hadnt worked out. She coughed and gingerly tried her voice out, "So... um... William," She didnt normally start the conversations but there was always a time to try, "Where are you from?"

[The Vekta-Helghast Empire]

William Clarifont, December 2nd, 2039.
Morrison, Colorado, 17.5 Miles from Denver City-Center.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" He questioned in a hushed tone as they made their entry into the Elementary school - the decrepit halls' unfamiliar layout sparking a tad more care in his step - making sure not to make much noise, always watching where each foot was about to land as to evade unnecessary sound. Staying incredibly close to her back before following her into the classroom, where he soon parted ways with her - heading to the opposite end as she set about making the fire. He quickly sprawled himself out atop the teacher's desk at the head of the room, removing a spare belt from his backpack to wrap around his upper thigh tightly. Then immediately after he removed a sewing kit from his pack and a small stick, coated in bite-marks. Sticking the piece of wood in his maw, he quickly went about stitching his leg shut, following a brief coating of water, his breath unnatural and staggered as he looped through his own flesh.

As he concluded his self repairs, he couldn't help but let his gaze drift, watching her as she loosened her hair and sat herself down, a certain curiosity coming over him. He arose rather slowly, before intentionally and rather openly removing his pistol from his belt, laying it out on the desk, along with his bow. He kept his ice-axe dangling by a bungee cord from his belt, and his skinning knife in his boot. Before limping a bit closer, maybe to around half way down the room, where he took up a seat. He'd meant to remove his main weapons in-front of her as to build trust, knowing it was difficult to build a positive relationship when you're hiding weapons from one another.

It was then he took up the opportunity to respond to her, eyes scanning her for just a brief moment before he allowed himself to relax, "I was born in Lubeck, Germany. My parents were Germans, they'd been living in West Virginia at the time but were visiting friends. So I had the fortune of being both American and German." He gave a brief smile as he concluded his answer, nodding towards her, "And you? Miss Hess? I mean, I've never heard of a name starting with Hess, so I can only assume it's a last name. Or totally plucked from thin-air. In which case, I can't really blame you.. Trust's a hard thing to come by these days.. Especially when it feels like everyone's out to get you." His voice was soft and genuine, almost seeming disappointed. Yet he seemed to ramble a tad, inside he was feeling really nervous, if he was being honest with himself. He didn't know this woman, or what she was like as a person and yet - he had an overwhelming desire to avoid being left again. To avoid the haunting silence that came with traveling alone.

"But between you and me, I've a feeling you're not out to get me. Or you'd have killed me on the road. And I'm sure as hell not out to get you.." He motioned across the room to his weapons casually, his voice continuing in the soft tone as his earlier words, "Unless I'm totally wrong and you're just really into dragging your kills out." He offered in jest to lighten the tone, giving a bright smile.

[Calindelo]

December 2, 2039
"Turner"


I followed the road and i eventually arrived at Aspen, the guys from the van wasn't following me anymore. I got out of my truck and looked around. The town was picked clean, no one is here... This place hasn't been touch for some time now. I opened the trunk of my truck, and was devastated. From having a secluded place to live with tons of food, water, and ammunition, i was left with a 2/3's full gas can, a bottle of water which is not even full, 3 canned meat, and a half eaten slab of meat.

I sat down at the ground and i let all of my rage out, i was out of it. Eventually, when i calmed down, i got inside my truck, wiped my face with my hands and started the engine. I figured there's supplies in Denver, being a major city and all. I drove my truck and headed to the Interstate 70.

Around 3 hours later, i turned right to the state highway 470, i figured it was a good idea to look for supplies, at the residential areas first, i was staring on the nearby town when something caught my eye, in the distance, i saw two people, they're injured. I pulled over at the 470 flyover and jumped at the trunk of my truck, i grabbed my sniper scope to investigate. One man and woman, very armed and looks like they've been through hell, unlike those pussies i killed back at Ashcroft.

I almost feel bad for the girl, as she was obviously nervous from the guy. She reminds me of my girl back then, and i don't know why, but she awfully looks similar to someone... moments later, they walked towards the other way from my direction, as i was looking at them, i saw another figure in the distance, at the roof of a building, i assumed it was a sniper, as it was aiming his rifle at them. The unknown figure quickly went down the building as i looked at it, it's unlikely that it saw me and i just marked it as a coincidence. A few minutes later, the two entered the building. I smirked and whispered to myself, "This is going to be interesting..."

VOID

[Fantrum]

Tamarisk, Colorado

Madeline instantly regretted starting the conversation this time around, what should she say! Gulping nonchalantly she leaned back against the overturned table behind her and thought for a second. Watching the man disarm himself had only done a little to set her at ease, and while having him without weapons was a nice step in the right direction, Madi didnt let it get to her. Being as short as she was, he was no doubt much more powerful than she was, despite being incredibly lean from her time in the wilds.

She could run and lift her own measly body weight but the much larger man would have no problem overwhelming her if it came to a grapple. Shaking her head, she cleared the toxic thoughts from her mind, but couldnt help touching her sword every now and then for reassurance that it was still there.

"I was told I had been born in Grand Junction, west over the mountains." She replied hesitantly, "But I lived most of my life in the mountains," She omitted a great deal of her story, choosing to only reveal what she needed to. "It was only five years ago that I came down from my home and started to explore."

She let an uncomfortable silence fill the room before she answered his second question, not lying to the man, but not quite telling the truth either, "It doenst matter if you've ever heard it before, it is what I choose to call myself..." Which was true, she had on occasion gone off her last name as her first, even preferring it as of late. Not that she really got the chance to use it, travailing alone as she did. "But... If you must know, it reminds me of my family." The heavily scarred woman looked away, inadvertently exposing her left side and her grizzly reminder of Lucas' demise. "I left them to adventure and find civilization."

It took only a second for her to get her emotions under control again, but the slight crack had shown itself, however slight. Then she was back to her own self again, "You keep insinuating that Im a cold hearted murderer and gimp arm or not youre going to find out how good I am with this blade." Though she said it with the ghost of a smile, the smile didnt reach her eyes. A fire burned there, a warning as much as a promise that even if she was a little socially awkward, she wasnt afraid to do what she said she would.

Her deep green eyes were the only place she couldnt hide how she felt, windows to the soul for sure. The old saying was true at least for her, and anyone who could read them, could read her like a book. Luckily for her she had a habit of not looking at her company, not that she did it on purpose, it was just her nature to be on the lookout for any trouble. That, and she really didnt like making eye contact, if made her feel squeamish on the inside.

[The Vekta-Helghast Empire]

William Clarifont, December 2nd, 2039.
Morrison, Colorado, 17.5 Miles from Denver City-Center.

He couldn't help but fall silent just as she had at the mention of leaving family, his head nodding ever so subtly as if to show relation, one of his hands idly dragging its finger tips along the desk to his right, injured leg stretching right out in-front of him as to get slightly more comfortable, his left hand idly dragging along his thigh, atop the crudely stitched wound, only speaking up once again as she spoke of her ability with a knife, giving a light snicker, "Someone's sensitive.. Ever thought that I'm maybe throwing you off my own trail by constantly bringing it up?" He grinned brightly, shaking his head as to dismiss his own comment.

He'd let the silence linger once again, but only for a few moments, "So, where you headed from here, Denver? Or you heading further afield? Personally I haven't a fucking clue.. Thought I might check out Denver, but uh.. I've seen quite a few firefights around the outskirts and I don't even want to think about how bad shit is in the city center.." He took a moment's pause to think, or at least - try to. In all honesty he wasn't sure where to take things from here, he got the impression she really didn't want to converse and yet, he couldn't help but be curious about her.. She'd stopped to help him when she could've quite easily just left him to his fate. And his gaze reflected the curiosity, eyes constantly looking her over and trying to meet her gaze whenever it arose.

It was then he reached down for his bag, rummaging around in one of the smaller pockets - he'd take a few moments but eventually he'd remove a still sealed chocolate bar, keeping it between his two hands as he slowly rotated it - inspecting its packaging for a while. He'd found it back in Omaha Nebraska and kept it close ever since - he recalled the taste from his childhood, I suppose it was just one of those little pleasures you could get from life in this new world. Once incredibly common and easy to come by, it was now a rarity - a beacon of hope in some regards, a sign that no matter how bad life got - you'd always have the little things to help you get by.

[Fantrum]

Tamarisk, Colorado

Loss. Everyone had experienced it in this new and terrible world, and seeing in the man her own reflected feelings moved her somewhat. Her demeanor changed, ever so slightly, and she warmed toward him. She wasnt ready to trust him, let alone tell him very much about where she was from or what she was doing in life.
But the shared experience helped her ease into the situation a little better. Truth be told, she could feel it in her bones that given a few more days she wouldnt want to leave William's company.

Even though she still suspected and mistrusted him, he was starting to tick the right boxes. Mostly that he hadnt tried to kill her and while he was getting on her nerves constantly talking, he hadnt made any advances on her. In fact he seemed quite behaved around her, a welcome change when it came to males these days. Most guys lost their minds at a prospect, and more often than not lost other parts when they attempted to take her by force. The never meant to kill anyone that way but sometimes the only way to deter a would be rapist was to sink your sword hilt deep in their chest.

Suttering deeply at the vile memory, she tried to get her mind back on track by answering his question, again almost truthfully. "Im heading to the old air force base on the other side of town." Of course she wasnt going to tell him she was going to the airport but didnt want to completely mislead the poor guy, since he seemed so genuine. "I was hoping to find some shelter and maybe a little loot there for the winter." He kept searching for her eyes, and she found herself more and more consciously avoiding the contact. Even though she found his constant gaze unsettling and even a little appraising, she wanted to look into his eyes, if only to gauge his response better.

So she did the unthinkable, and looked directly into his blue eyes. Almost forgetting to speak as she concentrated, "It isnt safe to roam the moors of Colorado during the winter, and I already tried to get over the mountains once this season." She couldnt do it anymore and broke the contact feeling physically exhausted from the effort. "What about you? Why are you here getting eaten by wolves?"

Now she stared into the fire, finding safety in its licking flames.

[The Vekta-Helghast Empire]

William Clarifont, December 2nd, 2039.
Morrison, Colorado, 17.5 Miles from Denver City-Center.

William couldn't help but allow a sigh to escape his lips before pushing himself to his feet and limping to the other side of the fire from her, slowly lowering himself onto his backside, keeping his wounded leg stretched out before him and his healthy one tucked in so that the base of his foot met the thigh of his wounded leg, eyes keeping themselves locked on the woman opposite as they always had been, the continued curiosity in her actions and words drawing him in, if she was analytical and a decent people reader - his eyes would speak a thousand words, his gaze wasn't as sharp and steely as you'd expect from a man of his build, it was soft - almost slightly glazed. A subtle sadness lingering behind his consistent positive attitude and approach to conversation.

His hands quickly ran down his face as she asked the question, giving a quick rebound once they reached his chin back up to his brow before dragging back through his hair, "That's a very good question, Miss Hess.." He spoke uncertainly, "I'm not sure if you could tell, but wildlife and I don't often get along, so I was thinking about maybe visiting the zoo.." He offered a light snicker before continuing on, "Honestly, I don't know why I'm here. I've just been.. Walking.. I lost a lot of people back east and I guess.. I've just never found anywhere to settle since. Sure, I've traveled with people since then and I love the company, but they'd eventually settle down somewhere, bad things would happen, I'd survive.. Somehow.. It's certainly not because of my combat prowess, as you can testify.."

Once again a brief silence would be allowed to fall, the faint crackle of the fire the only sign of life - but again, he'd attempt to shatter it, his gaze drifting from her to look down at his hands as he spoke, both idly fidgeting in his lap, "You know, you kind of remind me of an old friend of mines. I think I was in Iowa at the time I was with her, so that must've been about.. Two, three years ago.. Just something about the way you carry yourself, your more.. Reserved nature.. Your eyes.. We'd been camping out in Unity Point Hospital, in Fort Dodge - don't know if you've ever been there - but anyways, it was, believe it or not almost a reverse double of this situation.. I'd found her on the Kenyon Road Bridge, over the Des Moi-.. Er.. Moinus.. No, that's not right.. Moines. That's the one, the Des Moines River.."

His tone once again lit up, a near constant smile on his face as a sign of fond memory, "She was being attacked by these two guys with bats, getting the absolute shit kicked out of her. So I show up, at the time carrying a lead-pipe and my knife. Whallop the first guy, take a punch from the second. And she gets up, grabs the first guy I hit's bat and I fuck you not, in one swing - CRACK - guy hit the dirt. Then, just as I'm about to ask her if she's alright, she draws a handgun on me and shoots me clean through the arm.." He rolls up his left sleeve, revealing about an inch scar on his mid-forearm, "Bullet goes clean through and hits the first guy as he recovers and tries to flee." He couldn't help but shake his head.

"Anyways, we went to the hospital after that, salvaged some bandages - people always forget about those when scavenging hospitals, they go for meds and shit like that, always forget the bandages, spools of thread and things like that. So I spend the next forty minutes fixing her up, and clearly the adrenaline had still been in my system - because I totally forget that I've just been shot through the forearm. Luckily it was just a flesh-wound and she'd shot me with some shitty 22 LR round or something. I might as well have cut myself cooking.. Exaggerating, obviously.." He snickered once again, shaking his head, "To cut a long story short, we must've spent at least three days in that hospital with me basically having to do everything for her.. Of course, that's a more extreme and one-sided situation than this one.. But this whole thing's just reminded me of it. I must've traveled with her for over a year after that.. She was a woman of few words, but.."

His tone turned slightly somber as he allowed his words to trail off, quickly changing the subject once he realized the path he was going down, "I'm probably boring the shit out of you. I can already tell I'm getting on your nerves with how much I talk.. I guess I'm just a bit anxious.. I don't usually ramble on for so long. But uh.. It's been too long.. Since anyone's just.. I don't know, it sounds stupid - but.. It's rare you get the opportunity to actually talk to someone. Out with them trying to rob you, kill you or otherwise do you harm.." His hand quickly rose, his thumb stroking one eye as his index and middle finger rubbed the other, his heart having sunk a tad.

[Skylus]

Derek
December 3rd, 2039; Gilead, Maine; the Forester Estate
The Raid

Derek was ripped from sleep when the house shook. Seconds later, there came a loud BOOM, as if someone was trying to blow up the front door.
He laid there on the blanket covered floor for a while, then got up, and crossed the room silently to his closet, where he picked out a light green t-shirt and blue jeans, then dressed himself. After this, he would normally clean himself up in the bathroom, but because his house was being attacked, that was out of the question. Fortunately, he had set up a very crude version in the corner of the room, he rarely used it, save for when the pipes froze, or such as now.
Several minutes later, Derek had managed to clean himself up a bit and was now reliving himself via a wooden bucket.
But as he was doing so, he got an idea.
An evil idea.
"...I always wanted to do this..."

There were three of them, all men, around his age. They were currently trying to figure out how to get into the house, when some sort of liquid rained down upon them, soaking all three of them to the bone.
"WHAT THE HELL?!!!" one of them shrieked as he began to hop up and down from how cold he was.
The oldest one grabbed the jumping guy and shoved him back.
"Quiet! Someone's here." the man lifted his gun and start to point it at each window.
"If they're smart, they won't show their face."

At the top floor, a window slowly opened and Derek looked down upon the three, the bucket sitting on the windowsill.
"I'd appreciate it if you left."
The leader simply gaped up at him.
"You....You....YOU BASTARD!!! I'LL KILL YOU!!!"
The guy actually ran into the door and fell back into the snow.
"That was comical. Anything else?"
"SHUT IT, ENGLISH!" the guy yelled as he got up.
He jabbed a finger up towards Derek.
"You walk around here acting like you own the place, but you don't. Anything within twenty miles of our base is ours. And your house is smack dab in the middle of our territory."
Meanwhile, the guy that hadn't talked at all silently raised his gun and fired.
------------------------------------
The three guys were screaming at each other.
I won't tell you what they said exactly, but basically they were cussing each other out via the worst curses.
Meanwhile, Derek awoke in a pool of his own blood - he had been shot in the right shoulder.
The men's voices floated up to him and he merely listened.
"Hey, look, we got the door open, let's just go in, see what's left..."
"No. I'm going to kill him, he'll die anyway from that bullet in him."
"...Do you think he even knows any medical stuff?"
A snort. "Who knows?"
He heard them walking around the house for a while and then they were climbing the stairs, then one of them was standing in the doorway.
"Nice setup you've got here...That buck on the table will feed us for a long time, oh," he raised the dagger that had been on the game table since the night before, "thanks for this." The guy looked at it, then at Derek. "We're taking the house now, maybe you'll live, maybe not...Actually...I'm gonna get the bullet out...So..."
Without any warning, the guy threw the dagger at Derek and everything was gone.