NATION

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OUTBREAK (Sandbox/Survival/Horror - IC / ALWAYS OPEN)

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Beiarusia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10598
Founded: Dec 29, 2014
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Beiarusia » Wed May 30, 2018 9:48 pm

BEHIND THE MUSIC
The Empty Bottle, Chicago, IL

The musicians were quiet for a long moment. A disheartening silence, the only sound being the croaking groans of the Infected wandering the streets outside and the absentminded tapping of the drummer's sticks on the lackluster wood of the stage. The band was suddenly introspective, a bit drunk, yet pensive all the same, hurt by this newfound reality where their abandonment to fate was all but finalized. Deep down they knew. Content to drown themselves in booze and pot, to ignore the inevitable, but the arrival of Leon Bryne had forced them to confront the abyss that was oblivion.

Put simply: they were scared.

"Fuck me." Arnold Hopper shook his head as if refusing to believe that no help was coming. His eyes, however, betrayed him as dawning realization took root. He tightened his grip on the bottle of liquor until his knuckles turned white. "Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!" He threw the bottle as hard as he could, the glass shattering on the far wall, the bitter scent of alcohol mixing with the stale air of the venue. He was on his feet now, pacing with both hands raised to cradle his head.

Hoa Nguyen hurried over, genuine worry evident on her face. "Calm down. We'll figure something out, okay."

He rounded on her and grabbed her by the shoulders, not in aggression but more-so to steady himself. When he spoke the anger had sputtered out to some degree. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were gonna be big; names up in lights."

There was a banging on the door. An infected man was leaning against the glass, slapping its palm to the glass as if wanting inside.

"Fuck off you pillock. This damn mess is your fault, so be glad I don't come out there and backhand you."

Hoa, whether drunk or high, possibly both, laughed at the comment, and the mood lightened. The bleakness of the situation lingered, like a bad smell, but it was somewhat more bearable now that a small bit of steam had been let off. A good shout was all that was needed. Breaking stuff help, too.

Kenneth Rockmeier was twirling his drumsticks in his hand. Deep in thought, as if contemplating the answer to life, the universe, and everything. "Ya know, we were hired to play a show, and one fan is better than no fans."

Arnold looked over to Leon. Slowly the cogs cranked into motion — clogged by the vast amounts of booze and pot — until the figurative light bulb sparked to life. He nodded as the idea worked its way into his mind. "Yeah. Yeah! We came here to play a gig." He jumped up onto the stage with more finesse than one would think possible for a man lost to drunkenness. His guitar lay abandoned over near the amp, a deep and shiny blue edged in black. Hoa quickly caught on and hurried to find her bass. Kenneth was already sitting at his drums, tapping a little march on the snare.

Their manager, Donald Grimer, shook his head. "We don't have time for this."

"Yes we do. We have all the fucking time in the world, loads of it, fucking tons and heaps of it, but right here, right now, this moment is ours, and it's the last one we're ever getting. So sit down and enjoy the Goddamn show." Arnold plugged in the amp. A small belch of feedback sounded.

There was no point arguing. Donald took a seat as did Leon.

Arnold stood front and center on the stage, Hoa to his left, and Kenneth a bit behind. Painted onto the bass of the drum kit was a stylized XIII. The mix system was a mess so they settled for yelling really loud instead.

"Hello Chicago!" He held onto the "O" for longer than was necessary. Hoa clapped and cheered as if trying to rile up a crowd; Kenneth tapped a roll. "We're Thirteen Leagues, and this will be our first and last show. Let's make it fucking amazing!" Arnold strummed the guitar, the noise a high screeching as he made final adjustments to the knobs and dials until the sound smoothed into something reminiscent of 90's grunge. Heavy but with lighter undertones.

Without a word the band dove seamlessly into the music. A hard intro of guitar backed by the beat of the drums and the steady groove of the bass. A quick build to an apex followed by a descending crossover to the verse, Arnold on vocals with Hoa on harmony. A sound distinctively modern yet undoubtedly influenced by the punk and grunge popularized decades ago.

They were good. Really good. Far better than expected.

"They were gonna be the next big thing," Donald said to Leon, having to practically shout to be heard over the music. "Shame, don't you think?"

More Infected were gathering now outside the main entrance, drawn by the noise, the banging of hands on glass an odd compliment to the guitar riff as Arnold ascended into the chorus, voice a harsh contrast to the airy tones of Hoa. A clash of cymbals, drumsticks a blur. The band was oblivious to the danger knocking on the door, or maybe they just didn't care. They were lost to the moment and that was all that mattered. The here and the now.

The climax, a cacophony of sound, and then a howling interruption as an overweight Infected rushed onto stage, having found its way inside through the backdoor. Donald yelled out as Leon jumped up from his seat. The Infected launched itself at Arnold, who promptly slammed the weight of his guitar into its gut. It stumbled, stammered some angry gibberish, and was killed by a skull fracture as the guitar smashed against its temple. The music stopped suddenly, replaced now entirely by the Infected outside breaking their way inside. Hungry yowls and cracking glass.

"Can we go now?!" yelled Donald, gun held protectively with the barrel pointed towards the door.

The band scattered off the stage to grab whatever they could. "I got the alcohol!" shouted Kenneth, hopping over the bar to scoop whatever bottles they had left remaining into his bag. Arnold and Hoa grabbed the snacks. Donald yelled for them to get their asses moving. Paltry supplies in hand, they hurried to the rear exit which, thankfully, was clear of Infected.

"You got a safe place?" Arnold asked, looking to Leon.




SCHOOL'S OUT FOREVER
Washington Elementary School, Naperville, IL

The woman looked a bit indignant. "I can hear you, you know?" she said, shaking her head as if wondering just how she'd been caught up in this situation. Not that she had a choice but to play along. "We have to get out eventually... I'm looking for any food in the pantry if there's any left, and it'll help knowing what I'm up against."

Cadence, again adopting the role of unofficial leader, nodded as she considered the statement. "There might be some food in the cafeteria. There's a first-aid kit in the infirmary, too. We tried to snag it but Mr. Hanover chased us off."

Although some summer programs were in session, many with a provided lunch, the amount of food to be found inside the cafeteria was likely to be little or nothing, the bare minimum considering the bulk of the school was out for vacation. Raw food, such as produce or meat, had likely expired a long time ago. Mr. Hanover had probably eaten the rest, but it was worth a shot, and if getting Sun Yunri to help meant taking her to the cafeteria then so be it. She looked capable of handling the middle-aged principal. A small detour was all. As for what they planned to do afterwards, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

"This isn't a good idea," Adam complained, doubting the woman's ability to handle Mr. Hanover.

"We don't have a choice. Staying here isn't a good idea either," Jessica pointed out.

Alex simply shrugged.

The kids agreed to help Sun Yunri in her search for food as payment for her helping them with Mr. Hanover. Since she was the adult, and seeing as how she had the beating stick, she was allowed to go first, Cadence giving directions to wherever they needed to go.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, Clement Willoughby and Crystal Wu had wandered into the cafeteria. The spacious room was dark, the overhead lights having been turned off. Posters were tacked to the walls. The tiled floor was surprisingly clean, as if mopped recently, and if either had been paying attention they would have noticed the mop bucket just outside the door filled with mildly fragrant water turned grey by dirt. The table arrangement, however, was puzzling, everything having been pushed to either side to create a small clearing with a circle of chairs in the middle. A few toys were sitting as if expecting Clement and Crystal. The cafeteria was empty otherwise.

The pair had little time to explore when the school's intercom shrilled to life. A high-toned whistle as feedback looped on the other end, followed by the thrump, thrump, thrump of someone tapping on the microphone. The voice was low and crazed in agitated intensity. "This is Principal Hanover," it said, pausing with a ragged breath, "I regret to inform you, the parents, the loving parents of wonderful children, that the PTA meeting has been canceled for tonight. I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience." A small chuckle, and in the background a hard knocking of metal on wood as if something was being dropped again and again and again in boredom. The noise stopped and was replaced by pages turning. "The PTA meeting has been rescheduled for, let's see here, ah, of course. Never. Yes, never. The PTA meeting is cancelled forever. Imagine that. Now get out. Out! OUT! GET OUT OF MY SCHOOL!"

The microphone dropped as the man on the other end smashed the metal bar into the desk. A crack of wood, and then a door slamming shut. Nothing else. Just the continued ring of the intercom left on.

Mr. Hanover was on his way.
Last edited by Beiarusia on Wed May 30, 2018 10:34 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Hastur
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 130
Founded: Jul 01, 2017
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Hastur » Thu May 31, 2018 12:44 pm

Ingrid Zakharova.
Atlas Security Division.
Twenty five days since initial outbreak.
3900 S California Ave, Chicago, IL 60632, USA.




The growls and screams of the infected echoed through the street, drawn to the sound of that stupid motorcycle. She couldn't see any yet, but they were coming. An exit strategy was needed now more than ever. She had to get out of there and fast, unless she and everyone else here would be overrun with the bastards. She exchanged a short lived glare with the biker, not really visible from behind the baseball cap, goggles and respirator covering her face, before being told to get into the car by the cop. Not a bad idea, the working police car would get them out of their faster than on foot, the noise of the engine being an afterthought now.

“Hop in.”

The Russian didn't waste any time, covering the teenager and the biker as they climbed into the car, aiming her rifle down the street as she spotted several of the freaks rounding the corner with speed as they began sprinting right towards them, their animalistic snarls and screams becoming more aggressive as they spotted prey, making a bee-line right towards the car. Once everyone was in, she folded her rifles stock and climbed into the back of the passenger side car. Positioning herself with her back against the front seat, pointing her rifle at the back window, towards the incoming infected. While it most certainly wouldn't be the best idea to fire the gun inside, temporarily going deaf would be better than everyone becoming a chew toy if they somehow caught them.

The car lurched forward, accelerating rapidly as the police officer throw her foot on the gas, speeding away from the infected that were closing in behind, not faltering or growing tried as they relentlessly trying to catch up to them, failing to maintain pace. Once they turned the corner and took cover in the gas station, it seemed like they had lost them. At least for now until something else went wrong. It seemed like luck just wasn't on her side during the few days.

“I don’t see anymore. Think we’re safe now.”

Almaza stated in between a long sigh, whom probably having enough excitement for one day. Ingrid turned, bringing her rifle down, pushing the safety lever all the way up as she properly seated herself, letting the gun rest between her legs, resting her head on the headrest as see looked up at the nothingness of the cars gray interior roof.

*“You said you wanted to get to those soldiers in the high school, right?”

Ingrid turned her attention to the cop, the question obviously directed at her, looking through the iron fenced grate that stood between her and the officer. She gave a brief nod before adjusting her cap, wiping her brow with her the top of her right hand, her forearm still covered with the Israeli style emergency bandage that was caked with her own dried blood. The bite wound still hurt, a dull throbbing pain still lingering there. Something that she knew in the back of her mind that she shouldn't be ignoring, but once she had got out of her she could start thinking about her own welfare. Although if it got infected she'd be up shitscreak without a paddle, that or the symptoms of whatever this was started showing.

“I… just, I’m with you, okay? I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Officer Ruby Almanza, I’m a patrol officer with the CPD.”

And with that, the introductions and the plesentaries started. Probably a good idea to know everyone's names within the car, rather than addressing them by visual based pseudonyms. The first to pipe up afterward was the biker. A man who looked like a cross between a member of the Village People who'd burst into song and dance singing Macho Man, and your standard american redneck with a large gut. He spoke up, giving off a salute towards the cop before peering out of the window as he continued speaking.

"I'm Whitehorse, you can tell what I do."

Strange name, probably not his real one, although it was a possibility regardless, and given the factor that the man was very possibly not the sharpest tool in the box, it wasn’t unexpected. Soon enough the conversation fell on her, it now being her turn to speak.

"Ingrid."

She responded curtly, keeping it short and sweet as she readusted herself in the seat, unfolding her rifle stock as she got ready to move. Her attention got drawn to the shotgun resting in the weapon mount in the front.

"You got the keys for that firearm officer?." She asked, pointing towards the shotgun secured within the police cars weapon mount. "If so, grab it and let's move. We are going to need all the help we can get."

She peered out the window, looking at the gas station to her right. It looked looted, but anything that it did have left over could prove useful.

"We should check the gas station first, then head out." She said, like there was an option in it for anyone else, eager to get moving. The school wasn't the safest place to be right now, but regardless of what these people wanted to do, she was firm in her own plan of getting that radio, If they didn't want to go then that was their decision. She didn't have any qualms about leaving them behind when she did get her ticket out of her. Something she wasn't keen on mentioning right now, aware how quickly people can turn on one given the chance of getting the hell out of town.

She then opened the door and climbed out, back into the street once more. Moving slowly towards the gas station with her one hand on the pistol grip as she eyed up the gas station store carefully, ready for whatever was going to be coming her way. Planning on using the sapper shovel or her knife should any infected come her way.
Last edited by Hastur on Thu May 31, 2018 8:27 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Time is a flat circle.

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Arengin Union
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 8395
Founded: Feb 23, 2016
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Arengin Union » Thu May 31, 2018 3:57 pm

Samuel Griggs
Leaving Echelon Chicago Hotel

Having left the hotel, the family of three and their new companion were now left with little option on where to go. Samuel's shotgun destroyed, he had to keep Jessie and Ian close while trusting that Zach could cover his back. They needed more weapons, and supplies, and a place to hunker down. For the meantime they had to walk. Zach asked Samuel where they were going, he himself had no idea, at best they could head west, or either north and south.

Samuel gestured Zach to get close as he took out a map from his backpack. Up north there was a the zoo, Saint Joseph Hospital, and Wrigley Field. The latter Samuel had heard was a national guard refugee center, but that was a while back, who knew how the place was now. Then south and west there was more possible landmarks, but still it was all a risky bet.

Samuel looked at Zach. "We have several options of were to go, but our main goal is to get out of the city and try out in the countryside, I think Indiana is a safe place. North looks like a death trap, but west and south are no better. Look, if we follow the 90 highway, it will lead us right into Indiana." Samuel handed Zach the map as he then opened his backpack to inspect how much food and water they had left, ammunition as well. Still had at least 50 shotgun shells, useless without the gun but they could be traded. And at least 60 rounds for the pistol, they'll have to make every shot count.

As Zach observed the map, with Jessie and Ian close by Samuel took out the magazine from the 1911 and began to load up the rounds into it. He then loaded it up and setting the safety on he holstered it. The two spare magazines were full. He closed the backpack and moved back to see the map.

"We need to find a vehicle too. Im not planning on having them walk then entire way." It was obvious he was talking about Jessie and Ian. After some more mapping, Samuel set the map back into his bag.

"We're heading south, following the highway. When it starts getting dark we'll find a place to hunker down at. Lets go."
"I do as I please"
-King Abraham Markev final words before jumping into a cage to fight a lion.

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Huntpublic
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 474
Founded: Mar 21, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Huntpublic » Thu May 31, 2018 4:33 pm

Zachary Cash
Leaving Echelon Chicago



Zach followed along with Samuel, he listened to where they were headed and that they needed to try and leave. But Zachary himself had rarely left Chicago, he had grown up there for most of his life. He knew most of the landmarks in the city, but outside of it, he wasn't so sure. But Samuel had put his trust in him, so Zach would do the same.

On the outside, Zach looked cool, cool as in feeling fine, healthy even. But internally Zach was hurting. His cut burned, he was feeling a little sick and light headed. His head was also slightly hurting. Looking at the family in front of him, he slowly clutched his arm and dealt with the unpleasantness. It wasn't a major problem but he had a feeling that eventually, it might become one. He could be infected for all he knows!

"Let's just hope that the roads aren't congested with abandoned cars or anything like that," he says looking at Samuel, waiting for his reaction.

"But, whatever. The quicker we get a move on, the farther we can get and avoid meeting up with anything worse than what we've seen before, y'know because of the night and all that crap," he silently laughed at the joke, he was expecting to see everyone else at least crack a smile, but no...

"Alright, I get it, I get it. Too soon," he put his hands up in defense. He put his backpack down and analyzed what he had to survive on, who knew when they were going to find food next. They would have to ration things conservatively in order to make the most of what they have. In his backpack, there were these remaining items.

Code: Select all
x2 Advil Packages(One was about 10% used, there are multiple pills inside one package)
x1 Gause Pads
x1 Bandages
x2 Un-perishable Food Items
x3 Hoodies
X2 Items of clothing


That's all he had, he knew this would be a long trek ahead, and he would pray that the Almighty would protect him and the family while trying to get out of the city. He decided to pop one of the Advil pills into his mouth. Just to soothe the pain he had. It barely worked, he was capable enough to walk and talk and feel good. But the pain had become a little annoying thing, like a mosquito bite. It itches initially but after a while, people would forget about it, then when they remember they've been bitten it starts to itch again.

Zach sighs, "I trust you man, I know we are going to figure our way through this apocalypse. Heh - maybe we'll find a farm out in the middle of no-where and become hillbillies. 'Cause that, that would be fun," he didn't sound too sure about the last part of his phrase. He saw Samuel look back, and he shut up and started walking along to wherever they were headed.
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Fantrum
Senator
 
Posts: 3977
Founded: Mar 20, 2012
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Fantrum » Thu May 31, 2018 11:21 pm

Madeline Hess
S Archer Ave Gas Station


Things moved so quickly. She hated that. She hated being this close to anyone, being up close was how Madi would die. When she was far away, she could stay quiet, undetected, and keep everything that might be dangerous safely in her scope. Now, she was crammed inside the passenger side of a cop car with four strangers she might or might not have been scoping out, and the rifle between her legs made things very uncomfortable! Thankfully, she didnt take up much room in the first place, so while the hulking wooden monstrosity was inconvenient, she could still move around.

They were speeding off to god only knew where, at this point Madi didnt really care. She just needed this car for one very specific thing, the people in it were just complicating the damn problem. With the car, she could be at Mom's place in minutes! Then again, maybe helping the crazy Russian clear the school really was the best option... not if she had to get up close... but still, she could help somehow. The real question however, was it really worth all this trouble? Madi had made it just fine this far with her present strategy of moving quietly at a snails pace. Sure she'd had a few close calls, but she had always gotten away. This heart pounding adventure of asking for a ride however, had already promised her a death most unpleasant.

As she contemplated her options, the cop pulled over at a familiar gas station, one shed visited in her past life. Formalities were exchanged and before Madi could even so much as speak, the russian, apparently named Ingrid, had up and left the car. She was very high speed, low drag, that one. Madi instantly decided she didnt like her, and while she wasnt about to shoot her in the back, shed need to keep her distance. Anyone that eager to run around a city full of ghouls was trouble.

After Ingrid's hurried departure, Madi hesitated at her turn for introductions. She really didnt want these people knowing her name, or anything about her for that matter, but she couldn't just say nothing. Stuttering just a second, she simply stated, "Im... Hess. Im just looking for someone." With that out of the way, she exited the car and stood to her full underwhelming height, rifle cradled in her arms. Briefly she fought with herself over the merits of fixing her trusty bayonet.

It would extend the big gun's length more than a foot, making it very impractical for getting into and out of something like a car, but the simple rod of sharp steel had saved her life before. Sure, she wasnt strong enough to really wield it like a spear, but she could take out a lone ghoul easily enough. Now if there were more than two... well that didnt bear thinking about. With a little huff, she decided against it, favoring speed over her ability to fight.

Instinctively, she scanned the buildings for a good vantage point, and was thoroughly disappointed by the low lying buildings. Not that she'd have the time to get to the roofs of any of them, but still. Luckily it appeared as though the station had been undergoing refueling when the plague hit. The bullet hole ridden carcass of an abandoned tanker truck stood as a silent sentinel next to the covered pumping stations, offering a sort of way up to its roof. Slinging her rifle, Madi spoke over her shoulder as loud as she dared, "Im going up to have a look around, please dont leave me." With that, she scaled the ladder at the back of the trailer, wondering if Ingrid would find anything useful inside as she went. Just a hop skip and a jump later, she was comfortably seated just before the lip of the overhead, glassing the road with her scope.

The chopper must have drawn off most of the ghouls, because there werent any that she could see standing around, only a few very far off sprinting toward the Intervention Center. She called down, "We're clear, but can we leave soon?" She definitely didnt want to be here, and made damn sure she was ready to sprint for the tanker at a moment's notice.
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The Grand Rift
Attaché
 
Posts: 73
Founded: Oct 13, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby The Grand Rift » Fri Jun 01, 2018 1:48 am

Shaun Wild
Day 25
St. Josephs Seminary

Shaun stood arm raised with a pipe in hand aiming for the window. As the infected came closer, the group became even more hysterical with the shrill asthmatic girl shouting at him to "Break the fucking window". However, the climatic breaking and entering never passed as a stout but seemingly terrified Asian man flung open the thick oak Seminary doors and pointed a rifle directly at us yelling Get in. Get in.

Without much thought, Shaun immediately pushed forward, assisting Lindsey to get the slowest in the group Marcus into the seminary as fast as possible. The makeshift group piled into the forsaken sanctuary, and with no time for breath, Clyde took to the task of blocking the doors from the ever-advancing horde. Shaun at this point was growing quite irritated at the constant fleeing, as he pushed his body against the door along with two of the surviving Mertz girls he couldn't help but think that he should have just stayed in Cuneo Hall.

The infected pounded at the door with what seemed to be superhuman strength compared to the type of people their evil now occupied. We all began to lose our grip, "Motherfucker", Shaun yelled with noticeable strain. "We need to move from this door soon or we will be flattened along with the door" Shaun said towards the Mertz girls. A grey and septic hand began to slip through our human defense grasping for anything that represented organic matter.

Clyde who had disappeared from the door, only to return with his dependent friends, releasing a booming "Move!" while carrying a bench. Among them was Marcus, whose condition seemed to have improved with no sweating or discoloration seen anymore on his face, despite a limp he charged forward slamming the bench against the door buying us ever more precious time for our escape plan. The stout Asian man motioned them over towards a back exit. The asthmatic Mertz girl went through first, followed by Clyde and then Shaun with Monica right against him. '

Marcus who still had slower mobility, seemingly had his adrenaline fail him as he struggled to keep up Lindsey tried to assist him towards the door. The windows proved to be their undoing in an eerie repeat of the breaching of Mertz Hall, a muddy and bloody came shrieking through a shattering window. Followed by several other of his accomplices rushed the hobbling Marcus jumping on his back and swarming what was now the former friend of Shaun. Lindsey realizing the hopelessness made a run for the door, however, it was too late the snobbier of the Mertz girls slammed the door on Lindsey's face as she reached the door even in the face of her desperate screams and Clydes urging for her to hurry up.

Lindsey, along with Marcus were lost to the horde. Two more taken and drowned in the tide of infection. Shaun focused forward on the situation in front of him had merely assumed that they were behind Monica. He didn't realize the graveness of the situation until he looked back towards the door, seeing the swarmed body of Marcus and the desperate sprint of Lindsey all vanishing behind the dark sunken door.

A flurry of emotion rushed through Shaun, anger, despair, fear, yet none other beat that of desperation. He immediately sprinted back towards the door as Monica strode past him, he could hear her banging and screaming. Shaun thought "Shes still alive! I can let her back in!, along with the constant tugging of his survival instinct, Shaun fought through "Lindsey I won't let anybody else close to me die to this."

The sounds turned though, desperation turned to terror as Lindseys screams turned to almost gargles as you could faintly hear the horde tear her apart. Shaun ran for the door anyways, only being stopped by the returning Clyde grabbing onto him and yelling in his ear Shaun Stop! There's nothing we can do for her now, we cant afford to die for her sacrifice.

Shaun began to stop struggling as Lindseys screams died out, his eyes were glossy and tears rolled down his cheeks. He looked up to Clyde and said
"A sacrifice for what...?". He freed himself from Clyde's grip composing himself and proceeded up the stairs with a furor. Clyde realizing his train of thought yelled after him "Shaun fucking don't, we just got to safety don't cause another problem".

Shaun fired back at him saying "Oh it must have been so nice for you to get over Lindsey and Marcus deaths so easily Clyde."

Shaun turned and stormed the stairs, all sadness in Shaun had been replaced by fury. Upon reaching the top locked eyes with Monica and dropping his bag he pointed with the metal pipe he had been carrying and yelled out in an accusatory tone "YOU HEARTLESS BITCH" .

Shaun continued his firey stride towards the snobby sophomore. "I'm going to make you fucking pay for what you just did you conniving whore"

The girl stood steadfast staring down the taller Shaun even as he approached, wincing some as Shaun came right up to her. However, besides hitting her Shaun grabbed her shirt collar lifting her up to his eye level and slamming her against the wall screaming in her face

"What the fuck is wrong with you stupid bitch! Why the fuck would you kill her?

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Sudbrazil
Envoy
 
Posts: 329
Founded: Jan 14, 2018
Corporate Bordello

Postby Sudbrazil » Fri Jun 01, 2018 7:37 pm

Edward A. Hastings
House at 3931 S Talman Avenue, Chicago
Vicinity of S Archer Avenue petrol station





"When mighty Roast Beef was the Englishman's food,
It ennobled our brains and enriched our blood.
Our soldiers were brave and our courtiers were good
Oh! the Roast Beef of old England,
And old English Roast Beef!”


Edward stopped humming, and bit the piece of dried meat. It wasn't exactly a proper English Roast, but he might as well enjoy the cold rations and preserves as the urban milieu was unyielding of fresh ingredients to prepare such a pleasant dish. Finishing his meal, Hastings rose from the table, gathered the plastic packages, and headed towards the kitchen. Locating a rubbish bin, he tossed all the waste into it then carefully examined the room. Tucked away in a corner was a kitchen sink, which he tested. Being pleased to see that the precious liquid still ran from the tap, he carefully rinsed his cutlery and refilled his canteen. Now, to loot the location. Edward did not expect to find anything interesting, as the open doors he’d encountered while securing the perimeter seemed to indicate that more fortunate men had rummaged through the property, but he still hoped to find something. Storing his mess kit, he lowered himself to inspect the nearest cupboard. It was then that he paused. A familiar sound had crept over the window, through the living room into his ears: a car. He straightened his figure, accidentally dropping the eating implements he was fiddling with, and headed out towards his vehicle.

It wasn't the first time Edwards had met other human beings. A few had been hostile or uncaring, others warm and welcoming, while most were just bloodthirsty mad men, the cause of all this mess. He dragged his bicycle along, and unholstered his nine millimeter and advanced carefully, hugging the walls. The car, which he identified as police, had stopped at the nearby petrol station, and a few figures, including a constable had come out. Scanning the surroundings for any threats, he meditated on how to approach the situation. He couldn't just creep up unannounced: they would shoot him out of reflexes if they were armed. Shooting as a signal was way out of question as it might attract the lunatics. Yelling would yield a same result, and he hadn't anything to toss over. Then, a mighty clattering rang out at his side as he let his grip on his bicycle slip. Edwards allowed himself to curse.

“I suppose I found a way”, he muttered, picking up the aluminium frame, and raising his voice to address the nearest person. “Good morning. Rather dreadful times, eh?”
Last edited by Sudbrazil on Fri Jun 01, 2018 7:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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The Knockout Gun Gals
Senator
 
Posts: 4768
Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Knockout Gun Gals » Sat Jun 02, 2018 6:04 am

Jin-yoo Han
WestEnd


Clearly she didn't realized how far and tiring is to walked from the church to Willis Tower. Especially Willis Tower. As a result, she took a bicycle to made her way to Willis Tower. At least it sounds really not as loud as motor-engine based vehicles. Unfortunately it was about to be midnight and thus she decided she'd better take a place of rest before continuing. There is an abandoned bar/club, WestEnd. A good place to rest. Once she was inside, the place was really abandoned. Not much to loot, and safe to say not the safest place for resting.

Luckily, as she checked to the backdoor of the WestEnd, there is a key of a car lying on the ground. And a car, which unfortunately had one Infected. A bit close to her, so she pulled her bow and arrow. The Infected reacted to her, but the Infected died as soon as he reacted to her presence. She took her arrow again, once she cleaned it with water. But not enough water to clean one, so she was forced to not took this one. 6 arrows left, and the car's remain there.

She decided to continue her travel once she took enough rest in the bar.

Code: Select all
Infected x1





Crystal Wu
Washington Elementary School
School's Out Forever


The cafeteria is really spacious, if you want to think about it. It's big, notoriously big. It seems as if the tables were arranged in a way, once Crystal take a deeper look on it. Suddenly something sounded, she looked everywhere, and spotted what seems to be a speaker. A man spoke. Apparently he is the Principal of this school, Hannover. That's it? Just one name? Perhaps a surname. He explained that...PTA meeting canceled? Has he lost his mind or he plays some fucking joke?

He continued. Rescheduled. Suddenly he became more frantic and screaming. "GET OUT!"

Crystal glanced to Clement, "We need to get out of here, now! Otherwise we maybe food stocks here!" she insisted. She gripped on her gun even more tighter.
Last edited by The Knockout Gun Gals on Mon Jun 11, 2018 2:32 am, edited 1 time in total.
The Knockout Gun Gals wrote:
TriStates wrote:Covenant declare a crusade, and wage jihad against the UNSC and Insurrectionists for 30 years.

So Covenant declare a crusade and then wage jihad? :p

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Cruxa
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Ex-Nation

Postby Cruxa » Sat Jun 02, 2018 6:10 am

Rowan Smith
Midwest Gun Shop
Day 25




"Fucking hell," he swore at no one in particular. The gun shop was abandoned and he still had very few supplies. This left him with a dilemma. What should he do? He sat to think, pondering his options for a long moment. The only safe thing was to get in his car and drive over to the high school-- and he had no idea how safe that even was. He sighed and stood again, beginning to creep back up the street to Veteran's Park.

His car wasn't far from the entrance, and nothing was around it. He scanned his surroundings quickly before opening his car door and hopping inside, immediately locking the doors and windows shut. He may have been immune, but he wasn't going to take chances with the infected, he thought as his car quietly rumbled to life.
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Exxxxxxxxxxxxxxxcellent.

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Unless you are still using magazines.
Plus, the friction would warm up your hands.
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Kentucky Fried Land
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Founded: May 11, 2016
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Kentucky Fried Land » Sat Jun 02, 2018 12:48 pm

Nancy Kirksey
Loyola University
St. Joseph’s Seminary

In mere seconds, Monica clutched at Shaun’s face in an attempt to shove him away, but the boy proved to be stronger. Nancy watched this happen, growling under her breath as her eyes widened. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” She shouted, shoving Shaun away from Monica with her arms. “Fuck you!” Monica spat, now in the process of sliding away and grabbing at her sore collar. She had begun to whimper and cry, fear having stricken her harshly. The other girl was staring at Shaun now, anger in her eyes. “You killed our fucking friends too, fuck you asshole!” The five of them in the upper room were scattered about, Nancy spitting vitriol out in between tears. Clyde seemed like he wanted to intervene in the argument, but nothing spilled from his mouth. Instead, he stirred in thought and panic near the wall.

***

Clement Willoughby
Washington Elementary School
Cafeteria

It was a strange choice to give her name now, but Clement preferred at some point rather than never. He nodded to her, putting his glasses back on and opening his mouth. “I’m Clement Willoughby. Nice to meet you.” It was decisively formal, especially considering how the two had just met each other. Last names were rarely given out and given the circumstances of the world around them, even less so. Notwithstanding, Clement still trusted her. Something in his soul, an inherent ability that forced him towards his trusting nature.

He took the flashlight carefully as not to drop it with a crashing of shattered glass, and did indeed save it as he took it in hand. He beamed it across the cafeteria, not noticing much as he approached the kitchen. “I’m…” Clement stopped speaking as his heart started thudding.

The announcement was not taken lightly.

Clement marched away from the kitchen, stepping into the ring of chairs that had been setup in a near Satanic fashion. “I’m right behind you.” He responded to Crystal’s panicked gasps, leading her towards the hallway. Come on, let’s go.”

***

Officer Ruby Almanza
BP Gas Station
Outside

Ruby nodded to her newfound friends, most of them introducing themselves with one word responses of just their first or last names. Made her feel inadequate, given the response she had given being her professional title. But that was the least of her concerns, as Ingrid noticed the shotgun she had stationed in its weapon mount. "You got the keys for that firearm officer?” Ruby’s worries from before were washed away as she grinned and nodded, before stringing her middle finger through her keyring, pulling it out on its string and jingling it.

She unlocked the shotgun from its rack, pulling it out. It was a Remington Model 870 with a wooden stock and a delightful flashlight fastened to the foregrip. The shotgun already had five shots in it, Ruby having prepared it in case of a situation she needed it ready. She stepped out of the cruiser with the shotgun in hand, gun resting in both hands at a neutral position. The others left the car as well, including Hess, who informed them of her journey upon the old tanker. “We won’t, don’t worry.” She called after Hess, pursing her lips. It was obvious that the small girl had some form of trust issues; the giant Mosin compensating for her height not helping the matters. Whitehorse was something else as well, a man who appeared to have been in the midst of a mid-life crisis a decade early, along with a few lacking brain cells of course. Whether Ruby liked it or not, these were the people she had to trust now; but her best bet was still the kid.

She approached him as he left the cruiser, stopping him with her gait. He had said nothing since the newcomers had appeared and still he was mute. Reading the room, she spoke first. “Hey Sam, you know how to drive?” She asked, scanning the environment behind him for any infected that may come their way. Samuel seemed to consider this for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah, I got my license.” He swallowed, crossing his arms as Ruby opened the driver’s side door and pointed inside. “Alright, I need you to do something for me then.”

The soldiers SOS had been quite clear. Infected had surrounded them at Kelly High School and the infected were sure to surround any who came to save them without thinning the herd first. Ruby’s index was aimed at a small box with a knob and a switch on it, the white words Whelen emblazoned on the top of the box. “That’s the siren control. When we go to Kelly High, I need you to switch it over to manual then push that switch on the left. Just press it a few times, don’t hold it down or you’ll attract every infected after you.” She looked over to him for confirmation, but he didn’t make any indication towards her. He was staring at the box, trapped in the dash. “Okay. So I just switch it to manual? Nothing else?” He asked, Samuel’s words articulate if a bit nervous. She nodded once more, reaching into the dash and switching it over to manual for him. “Here, I’ll just go ahead and get it. But yeah. And push the button. Just don’t do it until I tell you.”

“Right, okay, okay. I can do that.”

Ruby walked over to the Russian, leaving Samuel behind to study the siren while more plans were made. The shotgun in her hands made the pep in her step lighten, now weighted and heavy upon the parking lot. “The kid, Samuel, he’s gonna distract some of the infected away from the school for us. I trust him to do it.” She stood beside of the woman, looking down the street for any danger, backing up Hess. “He can’t fight anyways. Doesn’t look strong enough.” She sniffled as a curled wind wrapped itself around them, sifting the loose bits of clothing on her along. “Since the soldiers have got a radio, and you’re with Atlas. I ain’t accusing you of anything. I just wanna know if you’re trying to get out of town with that, and if we get to come with you.”

As they stood there talking, a clanging and sharp swear reverbed through the streets. In the street was a man with a bike, dropping it and pulling it back up near immediately after his spill. His British accent made her raise an eyebrow. Poshness was a rare sight in the states, especially in Chicago. She kept the shotgun trained on him, eyes stuck on his 9mm.

“Good morning. Rather dreadful times, eh?”

“Sure is… dreadful. I’m Officer Ruby Almanza, these are my… compatriots. What’re you doing around here?” There was already a load in the chamber should she need to use it; God only hoped she didn’t.

***

Mawuli “Jackie” Jackson
Approaching Willis Tower
CDC Truck

“I don’t like being in a truck full of infected people. No offense.” Jackie made this very clear upon realizing that not one, but two of the survivors in the cramped cabin were bitten. He was threatened, of course. These people were all bunched up around him, cramming him in between their sweating, dirty, bleeding, infected bodies. He looked out the windshield, eyes glancing over the towering… tower, before them.

“That’s Willis Tower, right? Let’s get out of this damn truck then.”

***

Isaiah Thompson
ALDI
A Conversation with a Killer

“So, you got any ideas for where we gon’ go now, motherfucker? Since we stuck in here and all that after you trying to blow my fuckin’ head off.”

Isaiah glared at Martin, who had now propped himself up against the counter he had previously been shooting from. Isaiah sat cross legged before him, the Winchester resting in his lap while he dug two fingers through a can of baked beans, eating them cold. Martin made no response, his head still hung low. “Wish I had a fuckin’ stove or a microwave or something. A fuckin’ fork would do me just fine too. But now I gotta eat this shit like a fuckin’ dog. Fuck’s up with that?” He shook his head, but his ears caught something wading through the air. “Hm?” Isaiah called out, the noise coming from Martin now. “What’d you say?” He asked again in between chewing on his beans, looking at him. “My truck’s out back. F150.”

“No shit? What year?”

“2009. Keys are in my left pocket.”

Isaiah stood up, dropping the can of beans on the counter. “Fuck then man, why didn’t you tell me earlier? I’m gonna get this shit packed up and then we’re gettin’ the fuck outta here, you feel me?”

He reached into Martin’s left pocket reluctantly, homosexuality brushing his mind for a moment, only to be deruled by his own homophobia. “Making me do some shit like this. I’ll be back.” He took the keys out, gripping the shotgun by its barrel in one hand, before heading towards the back to get the truck.
Last edited by Kentucky Fried Land on Sat Jun 02, 2018 6:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Hastur
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Founded: Jul 01, 2017
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Hastur » Sat Jun 02, 2018 6:44 pm

Ingrid Zakharova.
Atlas Security Division.
Twenty five days since initial outbreak.
3935 South Archer Ave Chicago, IL 60632, USA.





The gas station was quiet. No movement, no sounds from the inside. She moved carefully, rifle leveled as she approached the frames of the smashed glass doors, poking her head in as she illuminated the inside with her rifle mounted flashlight. The bright white light scouring the room gave a good indication of the state of the place. It looked as if it had been turned upside down. The display racks and shelves where tipped and thrown around the room, disregarded for having no value to whomever had raided the store. Aside from that however. It looked as if everything that hadn't been nailed down had been stolen. All that'd be left for them now was the scraps.

Typical.

She climbed in slowly, heading in through the broken glass door before beginning to search the building, the glass below her boots making a distinctive cracking noise as she moved quickly and deliberately, clearing the small gas station of any potential hostiles. Ingrid stopped as she approached the counter, flashlight illuminating the tell tale dark red liquid splattered across the counter and the plastered advertisements behind it. Something had went down in the gas station. Although whatever action had went down she had probably long missed. Slowly, she advanced and moved around the side of the counter, rifle aimed as she expecting to find a fresh cadaver stuffed behind it, only to find nothing but a large bloodily maglite flashlight.

Maybe whoever was bleeding like a stuffed pig must have left it there. Something which would probably come in handy later. She made a note of the location and moved on, continue to clear the room. Spotting a large propane tank in the corner of the room as she moved towards the back, stopping and stacking up next to the right side of the metal doorway that lead into the backroom. keeping away from the door, Her free hand moved toward the door handle, giving it a short turn to check if it was unlocked. The door remained firm, indicating that it was locked. She remained still for two minutes, listening for any movement inside that would indicate survivors or infected inside.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Perhaps whomever was working here before had locked it before or maybe they'd just left it like that. Whatever was in there however probably wasn't work kicking the door open for and alerting any infected that could be hiding nearby. Her line of thought was quickly interrupted by the telltale beep of her radio. Indicating that somebody was trying to get in contact with her. Vitaly contacting her one more. Likely for a strep. Standing clear of the door, she moved her rifle closer to her chest, cradling it. Moving her hand onto the radio.

"Что происходит?" Vitaly asked, still sounding pretty terrible as the voice was drowned under the buzzing static, the radio getting a poor signal. "Вы в порядке?"

"Дай мне секунду." Ingrid replied, picking up the mag-lite from behind the counter before heading back outside, slotting the large flashlight into an empty pouch in her vest for the time being. "Да, все хорошо."

"Ты добрался до школы?" Vitaly responded, his voice much clearer now.

"нет. Я некоторыми местными жителями. Я пробираюсь туда сейчас." Ingrid replied, watching as the police officer making her way over to her, shotgun in hand. "Как насчет тебя?"

"Нехорошо. Множество из них на улице." Vitaly sighed, obviously worried about his current situation. Ingrid would have to hurry things along if she wanted her only remaining friend to stand much of a chance.

"Хорошо. Держите головы опущенными." Seeing the cop was planning to address her about something, Ingrid quickly cut the conversation short. "Должен идти." The radio giving off the telltale beep as she turned her attention full towards Ruby. "What's the problem?"

The cop began describing what sounded like a plan, using the African American kid as bait due to him lacking in ability to put up a fair fight. The cop car being the mobile dinner bell to lure them away. Not a bad plan, aside from the fact that it'd probably get the kid killed. Before she could respond however the cop continued, moving onto talk about her work with ATLAS. Ingrid had obviously underestimated her a fair bit, or maybe her plan was just extremely obvious. Making the more than logical leap to why she'd be so keen to get to the soldiers. Whatever it was. She was smart. Probably smart enough to see through any bullshit story she might tell her. She was a cop after all, and bullshit was one of the things she had to deal with on a daily basis.

"Alright, I might have a way out." Ingrid said quietly, moving closer to the cop to prevent anyone from eavesdropping in. "I need that radio. You help me, I'll help you."

Before the cop could respond however, the abrupt sound of a metallic object clattering against the concrete snapping Ingrid into an alert state, leveling her rifle upwards the noise, flicking the safety all the way down, spotting a youngish looking man with a mustache, gun in hand, who looked like they'd just caught him with his pants down, and he had to an extent. The man had obviously been trying to sneak up on them. She kept her AK105 focused on him, aimed at center mass as he began to talk with an English accent, something particularly unusual for downtown Chicago, and the cop was quick to respond. Seeming equally as confused as her by the man, taking a friendly response. Ingrid however, was less inclined to follow the niceties.

"Drop the gun and kick it over." Ingrid ordered, her thick accent making her even more distinguishable from the police officer in addition to the plate carrier and ATLAS cap "And keep your hands where I can see them!"


Code: Select all
+1 ML300L Maglite flashlight
Last edited by Hastur on Sun Jun 03, 2018 7:01 am, edited 2 times in total.
Time is a flat circle.

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Sudbrazil
Envoy
 
Posts: 329
Founded: Jan 14, 2018
Corporate Bordello

Postby Sudbrazil » Sat Jun 02, 2018 8:26 pm

Edward A. Hastings
S Archer Avenue petrol station



"Oh, sorry. May I come closer? I feel too exposed standing in the street."

Hastings buttoned up the holster and looked around, waiting for a reply. The area was becoming too crowded for his liking, and he didn't want to stay around for too long. Groups around this size were big enough to attract attention, but generally unsuited to deal with it, especially with the tension that filled the air, blurred judgement and had only built up with the appeareance of the man. Would they shoot if he just walked away?
Last edited by Sudbrazil on Sun Jun 10, 2018 7:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Arengin Union
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Left-Leaning College State

Postby Arengin Union » Sat Jun 02, 2018 8:34 pm

Huntpublic wrote:Zachary Cash
Leaving Echelon Chicago



Zach followed along with Samuel, he listened to where they were headed and that they needed to try and leave. But Zachary himself had rarely left Chicago, he had grown up there for most of his life. He knew most of the landmarks in the city, but outside of it, he wasn't so sure. But Samuel had put his trust in him, so Zach would do the same.

On the outside, Zach looked cool, cool as in feeling fine, healthy even. But internally Zach was hurting. His cut burned, he was feeling a little sick and light headed. His head was also slightly hurting. Looking at the family in front of him, he slowly clutched his arm and dealt with the unpleasantness. It wasn't a major problem but he had a feeling that eventually, it might become one. He could be infected for all he knows!

"Let's just hope that the roads aren't congested with abandoned cars or anything like that," he says looking at Samuel, waiting for his reaction.

"But, whatever. The quicker we get a move on, the farther we can get and avoid meeting up with anything worse than what we've seen before, y'know because of the night and all that crap," he silently laughed at the joke, he was expecting to see everyone else at least crack a smile, but no...

"Alright, I get it, I get it. Too soon," he put his hands up in defense. He put his backpack down and analyzed what he had to survive on, who knew when they were going to find food next. They would have to ration things conservatively in order to make the most of what they have. In his backpack, there were these remaining items.

Code: Select all
x2 Advil Packages(One was about 10% used, there are multiple pills inside one package)
x1 Gause Pads
x1 Bandages
x2 Un-perishable Food Items
x3 Hoodies
X2 Items of clothing


That's all he had, he knew this would be a long trek ahead, and he would pray that the Almighty would protect him and the family while trying to get out of the city. He decided to pop one of the Advil pills into his mouth. Just to soothe the pain he had. It barely worked, he was capable enough to walk and talk and feel good. But the pain had become a little annoying thing, like a mosquito bite. It itches initially but after a while, people would forget about it, then when they remember they've been bitten it starts to itch again.

Zach sighs, "I trust you man, I know we are going to figure our way through this apocalypse. Heh - maybe we'll find a farm out in the middle of no-where and become hillbillies. 'Cause that, that would be fun," he didn't sound too sure about the last part of his phrase. He saw Samuel look back, and he shut up and started walking along to wherever they were headed.


Samuel Griggs
Arriving to the Old St. Patrick's Catholic Church

"So then Mike turns to me and tells me, you got any more of those?" Zach's words were followed by a slight chuckle, not too loud to attract any attention but it was heard by Samuel and his wife, Samuel had a small smirk and Jessie kept close to him, away from Zach. Despite her husband's assurance, she was distrustful of their companion and part of her wanted to take Samuel's knife and cut Zach open, but it was Samuel's assurance along with her ever so weakening health that kept her from doing so. Samuel carried Ian in his arms, Jessie holding on his arm as she tried to keep up the pace and hide her coughing as much as she could. Ian for his part had tears still in his eyes, the pain from the bite burning, but with his father keeping onto him and covering him, protecting him, Ian kept quiet, still with pain.

Ian had not said anything yet, he was nearing two years of age and yet had never uttered a word. He had developed walking, but never basic speech. Samuel hoped he would soon, in this new world communication was key, not as much as other things but it was important. Samuel looked at him, his eyes covered in dried tear trails, it pained him to see his son this way, his wife as well. As long as he lived, no matter what the cost, he would not allow anything like that to happen again.

"We're closing in to the church. We should hurry, Its getting dark..." Samuel pointed to the sign of W Adam street. The group walked carefully through Desplaines street, passing by several abandoned cars, their tires and engines gone and many of them burnt and destroyed. A massive tank stuck into the wall of the nearby school, burnt remains around it. Bullet cases spread on the street and blood as well. It was like they all had just walked into what was once a war zone, it pretty much was that.

Samuel covered Ian's face as they kept walking down the street to the church, the bell tower was gone, and there were some bullet marks on the outside of the structure, but overall it was still standing, and that's what mattered.

"We're hunkering the night there. Zach, get your knife ready." Samuel set Ian back with Jessie, with Zach standing close to the two to make sure they would not be harmed. Samuel handed his own hunting knife to Jessie with Zach covering the rear and making sure no surprises appeared. The park at the other side of the street was largely burnt, some green remained but the fighting had left it mostly like a no mans land straight out of a world war one book.

Samuel gave Jessie a kiss on the forehead and pulled his M1911 from the holster and a flashlight out of his backpack. He approached the large door, the giant sculptures of the many saints of Ireland standing and almost ominously looking at them. It made Samuel feel shame over having to pull out a gun on the house of god, but he knew god wanted them to live, and at the end of the day, it was just a building, god was always with them no matter the place. Samuel approached the door, Jessie and Ian a few meters behind him and Zach keeping cover.
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Ithalian Empire
Minister
 
Posts: 3234
Founded: Jan 19, 2015
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ithalian Empire » Sat Jun 02, 2018 8:45 pm

Daniel Beck
August 13, 2016


Run. That's all Daniel could think of, to run, to escape. To find somewhere that had some kind of safety. Didn't really matter where, just so long as he could take some time to recollect himself and think of what he was going to do next. But as of now, all he could do was run, the infected man that had noticed him was slow and obviously had some sorta leg injury as it began to fall farther and farther behind him. Daniel wasnt sure when the thing decided that there was easier meals to be had, but it eventually broke away.

Danile began to slow down and started to take in his surroundings. He was still heading south on on North Sheridan, to his left was Champion Hall and the campus of Loyola University, from the sounds of the screaming further within the campus Daniel could only surmise that the campus was over run. Inside he knew he should try to help, that it was his duty to try and help, but he also new that he was one man with little experience killing things. He felt waves of guilt as he snuck past the college, like some kinda worm tring to stay out of the daylight, the fact he was choosing to do nothing making him feel dirty.

He past Mertz hall, carefully scanning the road as he knelt behind a abandoned car. All the infected must have been farther up north or in the college, the few on the road where shuffling aimlessly around, but most where heading away from him. He decided to keep pushing down the street. On his left he saw a CVS, but it looked like some one had already looted it, there was little sense to go in and see if there was anything left. Farther down the road there was a few fast food places and a T-Mobile store. Daniel decided to hunker down a bit on the corner of West Arthur and North Sheridan, the cars on West Arthur almost forming a barricade to his back. He drew his Glock 20, nothing to special other than the extended mags he managed to get, nor was a particularity skilled with the weapon, having only fired it at a shooting range. None the less it gave him some sort of comfort knowing he could protect himself.

He saw no movement down the rest of the road, so he decided to go for it. Leaving his cover ha past the Five Guys, however, he noticed movement in the Insomnia Cookies shop right next door. It wasn't the movement of infected, far to fluid and intelligent. Daniel decided to check it out, raising his gun and going in the door.
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Huntpublic
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 474
Founded: Mar 21, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Huntpublic » Sun Jun 03, 2018 10:11 am

Arengin Union wrote:
Samuel Griggs
Arriving to the Old St. Patrick's Catholic Church

"So then Mike turns to me and tells me, you got any more of those?" Zach's words were followed by a slight chuckle, not too loud to attract any attention but it was heard by Samuel and his wife, Samuel had a small smirk and Jessie kept close to him, away from Zach. Despite her husband's assurance, she was distrustful of their companion and part of her wanted to take Samuel's knife and cut Zach open, but it was Samuel's assurance along with her ever so weakening health that kept her from doing so. Samuel carried Ian in his arms, Jessie holding on his arm as she tried to keep up the pace and hide her coughing as much as she could. Ian for his part had tears still in his eyes, the pain from the bite burning, but with his father keeping onto him and covering him, protecting him, Ian kept quiet, still with pain.

Ian had not said anything yet, he was nearing two years of age and yet had never uttered a word. He had developed walking, but never basic speech. Samuel hoped he would soon, in this new world communication was key, not as much as other things but it was important. Samuel looked at him, his eyes covered in dried tear trails, it pained him to see his son this way, his wife as well. As long as he lived, no matter what the cost, he would not allow anything like that to happen again.

"We're closing in to the church. We should hurry, Its getting dark..." Samuel pointed to the sign of W Adam street. The group walked carefully through Desplaines street, passing by several abandoned cars, their tires and engines gone and many of them burnt and destroyed. A massive tank stuck into the wall of the nearby school, burnt remains around it. Bullet cases spread on the street and blood as well. It was like they all had just walked into what was once a war zone, it pretty much was that.

Samuel covered Ian's face as they kept walking down the street to the church, the bell tower was gone, and there were some bullet marks on the outside of the structure, but overall it was still standing, and that's what mattered.

"We're hunkering the night there. Zach, get your knife ready." Samuel set Ian back with Jessie, with Zach standing close to the two to make sure they would not be harmed. Samuel handed his own hunting knife to Jessie with Zach covering the rear and making sure no surprises appeared. The park at the other side of the street was largely burnt, some green remained but the fighting had left it mostly like a no man's land straight out of a world war one book.

Samuel gave Jessie a kiss on the forehead and pulled his M1911 from the holster and a flashlight out of his backpack. He approached the large door, the giant sculptures of the many saints of Ireland standing and almost ominously looking at them. It made Samuel feel shame over having to pull out a gun on the house of God, but he knew God wanted them to live, and at the end of the day, it was just a building, god was always with them no matter the place. Samuel approached the door, Jessie and Ian a few meters behind him and Zach keeping cover.


Zachary Cash
Inside the St. Patricks Catholic Church



Zach held his knife out, carefully looking around in silence. He stayed quiet and kept his breath under control, short and shallow breaths. He walked very carefully into the Church. Everything was silent, he saw Samuel looking around with his pistol ahead also quiet. Jessie was silent too, even Ian realized that being quiet was important to their survival in this situation. Besides from a few whimpering because of his near-deadly bite in his leg Ian stayed relatively quiet. No-one wanted to encounter any more infected. Not anything more dangerous or more deadly than before.

Then they had walked into a room that opened up to a really wide and high area. It was the main hall where the church services were held. Much to Zachary's surprise there were no infected humans in it.

He whispered, "I think we are good," but his whispered seemed a lot louder than it should have been, the empty room didn't absorb sound waves very well, so it reflected them and sounds seemed louder than it was before. A blessing and a curse. The room would help them hear any oncoming creatures or it would help whatever (if any) things were residing in the Church.

Zach slowly took off his backpack, giving his shoulders its long needed rest. And sat down on a Church Pew. Leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees and bringing his hands together in prayer,

Thank you, Lord,
You have protected us during our journey to your house
Just thank you for being my savior and protector
Please continue to put your hand of protection over me, Samuel and his family
Continue to favor us in this time of chaos
Thank you, you are our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ
Amen


He leaned back on the hard wooden bench, it definitely wasn't a comfortable place to sit, and for sure not to sleep. But it would have to do, he was not going to sleep on the ground. He took some clothes out of his bag and made a make-shift mattress for when he would need to sleep. He took a sip from his water bottle, and asked Samuel, "You got anything to make a fire?". Zach wanted to get a fire up and going as quickly as possible. He didn't want to be caught in the dark if they were attacked by an infected for some reason.
Last edited by Huntpublic on Sun Jun 03, 2018 11:13 am, edited 1 time in total.
HUNTPUBLIC TIMES: The Huntpublican Military has joined the NATO planned Trident Juncture 2018, it's Amphibious Assault Forces will be working closely with U.S. Marines in a simulated naval invasion of Norway, 
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The Knockout Gun Gals
Senator
 
Posts: 4768
Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Knockout Gun Gals » Sun Jun 03, 2018 7:17 pm

Kentucky Fried Land wrote:
Clement Willoughby
Washington Elementary School
Cafeteria

The announcement was not taken lightly.

Clement marched away from the kitchen, stepping into the ring of chairs that had been setup in a near Satanic fashion. “I’m right behind you.” He responded to Crystal’s panicked gasps, leading her towards the hallway. Come on, let’s go.”



Crystal Wu
Washington Elementary School
School's Out Forever

She didn't like the thought of being at the front right now, with Clement behind her. But she has no choice, as she is the one with the gun. Therefore, it is only natural for her to be the one in the front of well...both of them. The hallway looks clear, though. "Alright, let's go outside, otherwise we may or may not be discovered by the principal.

She looked to the front door. But...this is a school. Are there any other exits, just to be safe in case he already waiting at the front door? She glanced to Clement. "Should we go...to look for other exit point? I'm worried that the principal already waiting for us at the front door," she said.
The Knockout Gun Gals wrote:
TriStates wrote:Covenant declare a crusade, and wage jihad against the UNSC and Insurrectionists for 30 years.

So Covenant declare a crusade and then wage jihad? :p

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Ubaria
Minister
 
Posts: 2693
Founded: Sep 14, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Ubaria » Mon Jun 04, 2018 10:14 am

Leon Joseph Byrne
August 13th, 2016
The Empty Bottle, Ukrainian Village, Downtown Chicago


Though the situation was bizarre and slightly unsettling, Leon didn't have the heart to decline the offer of a private show even if the music wasn't really suited to his taste, instead he remained quiet and complacent and took a front row seat alongside Donald. The band didn't seem the least bit concerned about the clamoring of the infected still present outside, perhaps even completely unaware of their existence, instead they began on their set. The music started off fairly slow at first but soon enough Leon couldn't help pumping his feet to the metronome of the drums and nodding his head in time with the bass, almost lost in the music, he forgot about his troubles for a second, even about the infected outside, that was until the crescendo of the event.

The sudden blast of music coming from the bar had agitated the infected outside and had began frantically hammering and clawing at the windows in protest and as the screech of the guitar faded, it was overtaken by the clattering of heavy footfall and the ungodly shriek of a lone infected that had managed to wander in through the back doors. It awkwardly lurched for Arnold first who was rather quick to react given his state of intoxication, wheeling the guitar around like a medieval club, there was a sickening crack of breaking bones and the sound of twanging strings as the frontman popped the infected's head like a Piñata.

"Jesus!" Leon exclaimed, dodging the falling corpse now devoid of most a head. Just at that moment, all hell seemed to break loose, the crashing of glass from behind signified that the infected had finally breached the window and were now trying to heave themselves through the gap. Donald quickly drawled a previously hidden pistol - a Glock 19 - from his waistband and leveled it at the hoard, contemplating firing for a moment before deciding against it. The rest of the band finally understood the situation and began hurrying about collecting anything they could carry, which was mostly bottles of alcohol and snack foods.

"You got a safe place?" Donald turned to Leon, a wild look of fear in his eyes.

Leon shook his head. Truth was, no place was really safe, not that Leon had come across anyway, the best thing they could do in their current state was put as much distance between the alerted infected and themselves as possible, an idea that was echoed by Hoa.

"Let's just run!" She called out, leaping from the stage, the rattling of glass bottles jostling around in her pack.

Donald complied and was the first out of the back doors, bursting out into the alley with his pistol raised. He quickly scanned both directions before ushering the rest out with his free hand. The alley was clear, but wouldn't be for long and the last place they wanted to be was trapped in a backalley. Arnold emerged from the doors and simply pointed left down the alley, the opposite way Leon had approach from initially. Donald once again took point and led the group down the thin passage, Arnold took up the rear still clinging to his now bloodied instrument, Hoa, Kenneth and Leon remained center. Eventually the alley opened up into a road, this one devoid of infected but the guttural chattering of the aggravated hoard behind them could still be heard growing worryingly closer.

"Where do we go!" Arnold asked, not wanted to remain stationary for longer than was necessary.

A collective moment of silence ensued, nobody really having a clue on which way was safest or the faintest idea of a destination.

"Just any way!" Donald replied and stormed off up the street, weaving in and out of the scattered cars and debris.

The group ran for a few more blocks until eventual exhaustion forced them into more of a stumbling pace, luckily the infected behind had lost track of them, or had found something else to chase. Donald paused outside a nearby Walgreens grocer and peered through the still somehow intact glass frontage, the doors were also unlocked after a quick test kick.

"This place looks as good as any. Quick, inside"

The place was dimly lit, the only light stemming from the tinted windows at the front, it was also wrecked. Looters had stripped the place some days prior and now the shelves were bare, except for a bottle of soda that Hoa stumbled across almost immediately.

"Hey, i got a mixer!" She giggled.

"That's the least of our worries." Donald replied and peered behind the counter, his gun going first.

"I didn't think it was this bad" Kenneth mused, kicking over some empty cans.

Leon nodded and took a seat on one of the nearby tills. "It all went to shit almost immediately." He began. "Military even packed up and left. I don't even know if the quarantine still holds."

A disappointed silence followed. Donald however produced a small red satchel and several bundles of fabric from behind one of the till desks he was searching and pushed them up onto the counter.

"Looks like somebody was saving these for later." It was a medical kit and an assortment of fabric bandages, things that would prove extremely useful.

"So is it just Chicago that's gone to shite. Or has the whole world been fucked?" There was finally a sense of panic in the guitarists voice, the shock and adrenaline, as well as the booze and drugs had finally wore a little thin.

"Dunno. No mobile signal, landlines are all disconnected. Internet access is limited because of power outages, that suggests servers all over the country are offline. It doesn't look good"

"Fuck it. Cant' we sail out of here? There has to be boats right?"

Leon hadn't visited the harbor, but it could be said that the amount of people who probably had the same idea was probably a substantial amount, finding any working boats let alone piloting them would be a task and a half.

"I don't k-" "Hey i found something!" Hoa called out from across the store, holding up a small rectangular box that looked remarkably like a radio, not the handheld kind but an FM receiver. She hurried back over and placed it on the counter, unfolding the metallic aerial that came with it and began fiddling with the tuner through various bands of static, nothing but the sound of dead air until they heard something that literally sounded like 'dead air'.

"Quickly! Go back, i heard something!" Arnold took over and dialed the knob back a few hertz until a voice crackled back into auditory focus.

"Hello again Chicago, that was Eye of the Tiger by Survivor if you somehow didn't know that and this is Dead Air Radio on 107.1fm. I know some of you folks are out there surviving yourself so there's no better song you'd want to hear i'd imagine to get you pumped up. Now, if you don't like the sound of eighties rock, what the hell is wrong with you? ... I joke. We all have different tastes right? At the moment i'm strapped for a variety of tunes and i need your help. If you come across any musical medium, CD's, Cassette tapes, USB's even. Or even if you fancy yourself as the creative type, come on down to the station and we'll be the judge of that.

Now. On with the music and we have ... Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones! ...


There was an exchange of looks by the group, the curl of a smile appearing on each of their faces.

"It's like he was talking directly to us!" Hoa laughed and skipped in glee. Talking a gulp from a bottle of her stashed away liquor.

"Where is it though?" Donald replied.

Leon was quiet before a moment but quickly perked up. "107.1 fm. That's the old Chicago Community Radio channel, their station isn't that far from here!"

"Then what are we waiting for lads!"

Code: Select all
Loot gained.
1x Short Range Radio Receiver
5x Fabric Bandages
1x First Aid Kit
1x Soda
Hit me up on Steam if you really want > Maverick Zer0. Msg or TG me beforehand so i know who you are.
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Arengin Union
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 8395
Founded: Feb 23, 2016
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Arengin Union » Mon Jun 04, 2018 2:30 pm

Zachary Cash
Inside the St. Patricks Catholic Church



Zach held his knife out, carefully looking around in silence. He stayed quiet and kept his breath under control, short and shallow breaths. He walked very carefully into the Church. Everything was silent, he saw Samuel looking around with his pistol ahead also quiet. Jessie was silent too, even Ian realized that being quiet was important to their survival in this situation. Besides from a few whimpering because of his near-deadly bite in his leg Ian stayed relatively quiet. No-one wanted to encounter any more infected. Not anything more dangerous or more deadly than before.

Then they had walked into a room that opened up to a really wide and high area. It was the main hall where the church services were held. Much to Zachary's surprise there were no infected humans in it.

He whispered, "I think we are good," but his whispered seemed a lot louder than it should have been, the empty room didn't absorb sound waves very well, so it reflected them and sounds seemed louder than it was before. A blessing and a curse. The room would help them hear any oncoming creatures or it would help whatever (if any) things were residing in the Church.

Zach slowly took off his backpack, giving his shoulders its long needed rest. And sat down on a Church Pew. Leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees and bringing his hands together in prayer,

Thank you, Lord,
You have protected us during our journey to your house
Just thank you for being my savior and protector
Please continue to put your hand of protection over me, Samuel and his family
Continue to favor us in this time of chaos
Thank you, you are our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ
Amen


He leaned back on the hard wooden bench, it definitely wasn't a comfortable place to sit, and for sure not to sleep. But it would have to do, he was not going to sleep on the ground. He took some clothes out of his bag and made a make-shift mattress for when he would need to sleep. He took a sip from his water bottle, and asked Samuel, "You got anything to make a fire?". Zach wanted to get a fire up and going as quickly as possible. He didn't want to be caught in the dark if they were attacked by an infected for some reason.


Samuel Griggs
St. Patricks Catholic Church

As Samuel took off his backpack and Jessie her own, Zach asked Samuel for anything to make a fire with. Samuel looked around the church, it was big, and the light from the sun outside shinned through the windows, it was beginning to settle, and though electricity was still functioning it was better to keep lights at night to a minimum. It could draw attention. "Yeah, I got a lighter." Samuel took out a lighter from his pocket he then tossed it to Zach who catched it with ease and began to gather wood and cloth pieces to make a fire. Samuel began to settle Jessie and Ian's makeshift beds on the wooden benches. Apart from the pain from his wound Ian seemed to relatively well besides some coughing, Jessie however was starting to develop high a high fever and also couldn't hold in her coughing anymore. Samuel began to worry.

The husband searched through his backpack, looking for the antibiotics. It was clear they were not helping, but it was better than nothing. He quickly got a hold of them and gave two pills to his wife, she leaned down on the makeshift bed and took the pills and the water. Ian kept close to her, trying to be careful with his wound. Jessie closed her eyes to rest a bit, Ian keeping close to her.

"Take care of your mom little guy." Samuel said as he walked to Zach, he had finished making the fire.

"Im gonna look around, see if there's anything we can use. Please stay close to them, I'll give you a call if I need help." Zach gave a nod to Samuel, assuring him that his wife and child would be okay.

"Also, start barring the windows. Use the benches, I'll help you when I get back." Taking out the m1911 and a flashlight Samuel walked towards the hallway leading to the rooms inside the church. He walked carefully, pistol ready and flashlight guiding his way. He found the switches that activated the exterior and interior lights, he would rather not touch them.

A few minutes passed, and it became clear to Samuel that no one was inside the church. No infected, no bodies, no one. It was like all the happiness and the faith and hope that once made this place feel special was gone, it was gone. No longer a place of peace, just another building to survive the night in. Fortune smiled on the husband as he found the lounge, looking around the table and the many cabinets empty cabinet after empty cabinet made Samuel feel as if the entire place had been looted already, but as he opened the last cabinets his eyes shined at the sight of two cans of pork and beans inside a cabinet. He smiled at the sight of the two red cans and grabbed them. He quickly exited the lounge, passing by a bike and some boxs of tools. He headed towards his family and companion, they could eat something good tonight.




A few hours had passed, it was already dark outside, a looming empty void that one would never dare to explore except the most brave or the most foolish. Samuel and Zach had managed to block all entrances, the church was cleared of any infected and besides the damage to the towers and the signs of fighting outside the church was in relatively good conditions. Samuel had inspected around the building, finding the two cans of food, pork and beans, a leftover bike and some boxes of miscellaneous tools. Zach filled the canteens and bottles of water with tap water from the bathroom's sink, he coughed a few times as he walked out of the bathroom, his body aching from the virus taking a toll on him but it was nothing like how Jessie was.

The two men had made the church's hall into a type of camp, blocking the windows and doors with piles of the massive benches around the church hall. Three makeshift beds made from the wooden benches sat around a fireplace made out of cloth and wood. Jessie was sleeping soundly, every couple of minutes coughing, she looked pale and was noticeably shivering from the fever. Samuel covered her with his own jacket, Ian sleeping on the father's own makeshift bed, close to her mother. The empty cans of pork and beans lied besides the fireplace, Zach was awake and so was Samuel, both men sitting opposite of on another, the fireplace in the middle.

"Thanks... for, bringing me along... I know your wife feels, differently about it..." Zach said, with clear shame in his voice. He still felt at fault for what had happened, how Jessie was feeling as well as Ian.

"Don't worry about it. I guess we have to try and stick together these days. You try to go at it alone... you'll probably die." Samuel answered with a calm temper. It had been a strange day, the two meeting on not so amicable terms, with Samuel not hesitating to squeeze the trigger of his shotgun at the first sign of Zach trying anything on him or his family. But destiny had its weird ways to pin the two men together.

"Uhmmm..." Zach uttered, looking at the empty cans of food. "I miss cooking food..."

"You cook?" Samuel asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah!" Zach answered excitedly, "I have this... Well, I used to have a restaurant... Cash's Food Eatery, stupid name..." Zach looked at the floor, smiling at the thought of the life he once had.

"Hey, I heard of that place. A buddy of mine at work told me about it once." Samuel said with realization.

"You kidding?" Zach said, looking back at Samuel.

"No I'm not. 'Best burgahs around dah bloc!'" Samuel imitated a robust voice as he said this, at least trying to imitate his friend from work.

Zach gave a small laugh, "Small world I guess."

"I guess it is." Samuel leaned to the bench, scratching his beard at the thought.
Last edited by Arengin Union on Mon Jun 04, 2018 2:32 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Relikai
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9477
Founded: Feb 11, 2014
Democratic Socialists

Postby Relikai » Mon Jun 04, 2018 8:23 pm

Sun Yunri
Day 24, Washington Elementary


Leaving the classroom was the easy part, especially with the loud screeching over the intercom towards the intruders. Of course, Yunri assumed that it was for her, hands tightening their grip on the grooved handle of the pole as she led the kids down, her head snapping from side to side, ears focused for the sound of a rushing attacker. She allowed Cadence to lead her, Yunri assuming that she was the leader of this small group of kids. She took in deep breaths, allowing herself to focus, the small group soon reaching the cafeteria when Yunri caught sight of a few individuals, a hand moving to hold Cadence and the rest of the kids back.

"Shh... someone's there." She whispered harshly. Unsure if they were infected or scavengers, Yunri huffed, her pole raised as she heard them speak among themselves. So far, no infected she met was actually capable of coherent speech, so for the woman this was a sign of them being actually human. Perhaps they heard the intercom, perhaps they might be of some assistance with the kids and the incoming threat?

"H-Hey!" She called out, quickly beckoning the kids to follow her closely. "Look, I don't know why you're here, but these kids need a way out. If you can help us get rid of the principal, we might be able to buy some time for them to get out."
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Insaeldor
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5348
Founded: Aug 26, 2014
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Insaeldor » Tue Jun 05, 2018 1:26 am

Julian Ryuhn
Loyola University



As the horde closed in the door was slammed shut by both myself and those i had let in. Some however did not make it. A group of young adults flowed in, some looking better of than others and some looking like straight hooligans. As the infected pressed up against the door i backed up to grab my stuff, my backpack mostly and everything that was inside it. I slung it over my back quickly trying to keep the noise down as i had worked on during my time here, not that it mattered anymore though. The second I finished doing that the doubt crept in, the thoughts of how selfish i was to worry about my backpack more that to help these people, while they had it and i needed what was in the backpack it still tugged my heart. Everything i did was wrong or could be done better, i haven't done anything that wasn't self centered and craven. This was the constant thing for, putting myself above others. Timothy 5:6 kept on ringing through my mind as this all went down, over all the screaming and dramatism. Until one of then ran up the stairs and the others followed. I didn't really know anything better to do and so i followed, taking large leaping steps up the stairs. And into the reading room for the sisters, a small upstairs room with a set of windows overlooking a small garden. I quickly helped to shut and lock the door behind us, and before much else could take place we had a group arguing and getting combative with each other.

I was still shaken up by the events of downstairs. I really didn't hear anything just the yelling. That was until I saw one of the boys grab one of the girls and throw her against a wall. I just didn’t know what to do, i didn’t know these people or what they were capable of. I again fell back i to myself for a moment. What should i do? It is after all my duty to god to shepherd go him and to lead the lost. The only thing i could think to do was to pray, just to give a sense of calm to them. I went over to the boy and put a hand on his should, this was for him but geared towards everyone in the room. Something to rebuke the primal fears and anger from us so that we could think clearly.


“Loving Father and heavenly Lord I know that prayer is simply the breath of helplessness being nourished on the bosom of the Father. And Lord I come to You lifting up the many men and women that have such a struggle with the bitterness and anger that lurks deep within their soul – and who are helpless to deal with this disease without You Lord.

Father, You alone are the one that can address their need and sever the root of their anger – for it is only as one abides in Christ that the fruit of His Holy Spirit can grow and displace the ugliness of anger and bitterness within.

Bring those that do not know the Lord Jesus as saviour into a saving faith in Him so that they can know that their sins are forgiven forever and that You paid the price of all - and for those that know You as Saviour I pray that they come to understand that it is only as we yield to Your Spirit and admit our inabilities to deal with the fruit of evil in our heart that You will are able to guide us into the paths of righteousness, forgiveness and love.”

I took a breath for a moment. Then I looked over back at everyone.

“we can’t get out of here if we just scream back and forth. Lets calm down and figure out a way to get somewhere safe.” my voice cracking a bit but my tone was soft. I hoped only some sort of good could come of this, i hope my initial thoughts on letting these people in wasn't right. Only god knew however, and id have to let him guide me through this.

James A. Marceau
BP Gas Station


The sound of me eating was disgusting to me, but even though the food was cold, stale, and old it was still something to fill my stomach, something I hadn't been able to do for awhile. I was sipping from my gallon jug as well, I'd need to go in a fill it back up soon. But for right now i just sat in the manager's office, door locked, and no lights to keep people from checking. I just wanted to eat in peace, maybe stay another night and move out in the early morning. I just hoped to god nobody came through and tried to get in.

My body tensed up, the sound of the doorknob being jiggled. I held my breath for as long as i could, maybe a minute or so, i slowly reached down and as quietly as I possibly could i picked up the pistol I had in the side pocket of my backpack. I picked it up and pointed it at the door, it didn’t have any ammo in it, it was an empty gun, it had been empty since I got it, I was just hoping if anyone bust in through the door they’d see the gun and run off. I exhaled slowly and steadily so they couldn’t hear it.

Then the talking, I couldn’t tell if they were speaking another language or if it was just the muffling of the walls. I waited awhile, maybe three minutes or so, maybe longer. They sounded like they were a group, maybe more people coming, I needed to get out of here, just do something. I can tell that I’m going to get fucked up if I stick around, They seem to be talking with someone, maybe I could just sneak off and head towards that Tattoo place across the street. Just somewhere away from here, I havent had any good experiences with survivors and I had no reason to think this would be any different. The talking got a little bit more distant and the muffling softer. I got up from the small chair I’d been lounging in. I went up to the door and softly felt around the door until i felt and grabbed the door handle, With my other hand i used my free figures to undo the small lock, my gun still in hand.

The door opened slowly and with little noise, i turned around to look and saw two women, all dressed in armor and with guns. I stood there for a moment, trying to remember where I could go to get across the street without them noticing me, It slowly dawned on me that my idea maybe was as well as I thought it was. I don’t know if there was a backdoor or not, I might have to just run past them and just run for it. But as I stepped forward I quickly found that maybe running wouldn’t be an option, not only that but I forgot backpack in the room.

Guess I have only one real opinion. I skipped my pistol across the ground towards them, hoping to god that they were friendly, they didn't look like roaming thugs. I tried to speak, but my throat was tight with fear and anxiety. I just lifted my hands up, they’d see me once they heard the gun hit the floor.

Fuck, I think i made a horrible choice here.
Time is a prismatic uniform polyhedron

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Fantrum
Senator
 
Posts: 3977
Founded: Mar 20, 2012
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Fantrum » Tue Jun 05, 2018 10:50 pm

Madeline Hess
S Archer Ave Gas Station


Madeline was used to boredom. She had spent a lot of time in deer stands growing up, after all. Of course, being used to boredom wasnt the same as being immune to it. Which she definitely wasnt. Still, as her mind wandered to what could possibly go wrong next, several things happened at once. First, and she couldnt see it, but Ingrid came out of the store empty handed. Next there was a very loud sound like someone kicking a metal pipe across the ground, and then the actual sound of metal scraping across the ground.

Madi was on her feet by the time the Englishman had exchanged pleasantries with the cop, and standing over the trio with her rifle leveled before his gun was back in its holster. The man seemed compliant enough, so she took the opportunity to make her way off the roof by quickly jumping from the roof to the tanker and then sliding down the ladder at the back. That was when she realized there was another man, standing just out of the officer and Ingrid's line of sight, just standing there... with his hands up... and a gun sitting on the ground a ways in front of him.

The sight of it all twigged something in Madi's brain. Then a single thought rose up among the chaos, damn she should have fixed that bayonet after all. She was struck by the coincidence of it all. If she hadn't been part of a situation exactly like this no less than a half hour ago she would have said this was an ambush and shot one of them by now. Or stabbed one. Or both. Before running away from the inevitable ghoul horde.

What was more, how did these two slip past her? She liked to think she wasnt retarded, at least not completely. They must have blundered up while she was watching a different section of the road... or while she was day dreaming... She liked to think it was the former. Since the latter hurt her hunter's pride.

She didnt say anything to either of the newcomers, preferring to march up to the officer, gun pointed at the bearded man, and spoke softly to them, "We should hurry, if those soldiers are on as much of a schedule as you made them out to be." Now that she wasnt facing down a load of ghouls, Madi found it much easier to keep her nerve as she addressed the older, and taller, pair of women, then she lowered her voice and looked away as she addressed the officer more quietly, "A-and I kinda need a favor..." She collected herself quickly and pushed on, "I, um, I wanted to get a ride to my mom's place after we helped those soldiers..."

She braced herself for the instant backlash, the ridicule, the insults. How could she be concerned about something like that at a time like this? It was true though, she was just that selfish. In a city full of lost souls, how dare she seek out one only important to her? As the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted even asking, and felt her face flush involuntarily in embarrassment, something she tried to cover by coughing into her jacket sleeve and holding her rifle like a security blanket.
"I expected you to be an eggplant." - Felkesjud
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Kentucky Fried Land
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1631
Founded: May 11, 2016
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Kentucky Fried Land » Thu Jun 07, 2018 5:07 pm

Clement Willoughby
Washington Elementary School
Running

Clement looked back to Crystal, the woman making an excellent point. “He probably is. That’s where he expects us to go. But I don’t know of where else there’d be an exit, other than… back in the cafeteria.” He nearly slapped himself. Of course there would be exits in the cafeteria. To lack them would be a goddamned fire hazard.

Before he could move them back, a voice called out and a woman with a few other smaller figures emerged into view. Clement’s heart skipped a beat. He watched the woman, throwing his baseball bat up in a defensive position. “Jesus!” He cried out, but stopped himself once the kids finally colored his vision. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I thought you were the principal, at first.” He looked over all of them, wincing. “I can… I can try and get rid of the principal. If you and her wanna try and get these kids out of here.” He crossed his arms, indicating both the new woman and Crystal with his eyes.

***

Officer Ruby Almanza
BP Gas Station
Outside

She listened to Ingrid’s commands, watching the man attempt to comply with her orders. “Very well, my dear. I trust that you will not shoot me as soon as I holster my firearm,” Ruby’s head tilted at this, watching as he sat the pistol in its holster. Her arms straightened, barrel of the shotgun now aimed directly at his chest. “Whoa, whoa whoa! Hands off the gun! She told you to drop it!” Ruby bit at the man, losing the trust her voice used to have. What was this guy doing with the gun?! She kept the gun trained on him now, watching his hand for any sudden movements. “Don’t make any sudden movements and put your hands on your head!”

Hess came down soon after, joining them in the gunpoint draw of… who the fuck was that?!

Ruby’s head tilted as another man emerged from the BP, herself drawing back as she threw the gun in his direction. The shrill crunch of his gun sliding across the pavement made her hair stand on end, eyes now widened and palms going crazy. Hess was talking to her now, a suggestion of getting moving on. “Okay, okay, yeah, we’ll get going. We just have to… to deal with this.” It was a stupid plan to come here; why did she do this?! Of course a gas station would be a prime spot to get robbed, and now these two were going to try and steal their shit… of course this would happen! But it looked like their group had the upper hand, at least compared to this duo of bandits or whatever the fuck they were. “You do the same as him! Hands on your fucking head!”

She looked at Hess again, eyes wild with fervor and ferocious fear. “Yeah, okay, we’ll talk about it in a minute, we can, I… I said get your hands off the gun motherfucker!” She yelled at Mr. Hastings again, shotgun still aimed at the other man.

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Wallenburg
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20322
Founded: Jan 30, 2015
New York Times Democracy

Postby Wallenburg » Thu Jun 07, 2018 7:56 pm

Steven Larson || August 13
Wrigley Field, Lake View

The soft crunching of a granola bar carried ever so slightly across the otherwise silent intersection. An empty wrapper already lay on the concrete, boasting of extra vitamins and rich chocolatey flavor. With one hand Steven held what remained of his small lunch, and with the other he propped his record against his stomach.

"Did you know Gustav Holst was a cripple?" he asked Leonard. "Could hardly write his own music. Neuritis in his right hand."

Leonard shook his head. "What are you doing with that? Music is worthless out here."

Steven looked up, smiling. "Ah, not quite. There's some guy at the radio station west of here that wants music. I'm hoping to trade this and a few other things for supplies."

"Why don't you go then, instead of sitting around out here?" Leonard wondered. "The day won't last forever, and I don't exactly need your help. I can hold my own out here."

Steven chuckled to himself, and bent down to his backpack. Unzipping the back compartment, he carefully slid the record inside and then slowly zipped it back up. "I'm sure you can, but I'm not so sure about myself. I'm not exactly the muscular type, as you can tell, so I was thinking that I should wait around here until your friend gets out of the stadium. Maybe he'll be interested in teaming up to get out of this city."

Leonard thought about it, and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's not a half bad idea, if you want to get out. Kind of depends on him wanting to go with you. Also depends on him making it out of there alive. I mean, he seems like a capable enough guy, but the field is still fucking packed. I wouldn't be surprised if he had trouble making it out. Hey, maybe you should go in there and help him out."

Steven felt the granola bar catch in his throat and coughed it out. "Ugh, what? Why would I do that? No stranger is worth that risk!"

Leonard raised his hands, "Of course not, I agree. That's why you'd also get a cut of these supplies." He gestured to the bulging backpack at his feet. "Food, medicine, you name it. Help him get out of there in one piece--with Mr. Cub's signed bat, of course--and you'll split the reward."

Steven shoved the granola bar into his pocket and thought it over. Who knew when he would next find any pharmacy or store with medicine and bandages? And after all, he hadn't heard any screaming from the stadium, so chances were that the man already in there was still alive, and had successfully made it well into the structure. Going in to help him finish the job might actually be a safer bet than wandering around the city, looking for supplies. "All right, I'll do it. No bullshit, I go in there and help get that bat, I get half the supplies."

"Absolutely, buddy. Now get in there ya fucking twig, I'll watch the entrance."


Sure enough, the other man searching for the bat had made his way deep into the stadium's labyrinthine structure. Body after body, their mouths caked in dry blood and their skulls dripping fresh blood, lay motionless as witnesses to his advance. Steven thought for a moment to draw his pistol, in case another crazed cannibal should surprise him, but he figured that even a single gunshot would send so many other infected into a craze that his chances were better depending only on his knife. Finding a solid, comfortable grip on the knife's handle, he advanced.

The path ended at a door locked by a card reader. "Fuck," grumbled Steven. He had no card with which to open it. Walking back to the infected bodies, he searched for a key card. The nearest body seemed already searched and looted, but another still wore an employee lanyard with a bloody ID hanging at its end. Gingerly, Steven loosened the lanyard from around the infected worker's neck. Infected individuals were dangerous even after death, still capable of transmitting whatever made them go crazy through their blood and other bodily fluids. He walked back to the door with the key card and swiped it through the reader.

*Chirp*

The door clicked and Steven swung it open, ready to fight any infected on the other side. Instead, an empty room met him, leading into several other rooms. Steven lowered his knife, relaxing slightly. Perhaps he would manage to avoid confrontation with any living infected while retrieving the baseball bat. Fried and salty foods littered the ground along with several soda stains and baseball paraphernalia, as if the room had been cleared out in the middle of a game, and nobody had bothered to clean it up. Unfortunately, nothing of value stood out to him. Most importantly, as Steven went from room to room, he saw no sign of the baseball bat he had come for. "Shit," he mumbled to himself. "How much further do I have to go?"

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Last edited by Wallenburg on Thu Jun 07, 2018 8:08 pm, edited 2 times in total.
PROFESSIONAL CRITIC OF ALL THINGS GENSEC
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NewLakotah
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Founded: Feb 18, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby NewLakotah » Thu Jun 07, 2018 10:45 pm

Alexis Martin
South Side, Chicago


Alexis had remained more or less holed up in the small apartment for most of the horrifying weeks since the outbreak began. He had ventured out only a few times, usually to try and get more food or any other supplies that he could. He felt somewhat safe there. The apartment was several stories up, with a wonderful view of the wide open expanse of Lake Michigan. It was a haunting view. A façade of peace and tranquility. It was both a comforting sight and one that haunted him. It had given him somewhat of an idea of hope. In one of his long sleepless nights starring out over the broad expanse of the Lake, knowing full well that traveling up along that lake, up an around the state of Michigan, would lead him right back to Canada. Back to his home. It would be a hard trip to try and work his way all that way around, but, if he could get north, he figured his chances of survival would certainly improve. He could see that Chicago with large population only spread the infection quicker. To survive he would have to get as far from the cities and large urban centers as he possibly could, and Canada was certainly ripe for that. Montreal and Toronto, and the whole Toronto, Ontario area, would certainly be a wreck. However, outside of that, and particularly north of that, the population thinned drastically. That would be where he could wait it out and survive. It would be both easier to deal with the infected, since there would be less of them, as well as easier to contain people from getting the infection, since there would be less people around carrying the virus.

That was his plan. However, carrying it out would be almost impossible. At least in his mind. Alexis was not a fighter. He had fired a few guns before, sure, but that wasn’t the same thing as surviving a world-ending scenario. He was an economist from Quebec. He had been around the world, sure. Living in Africa now for the last few years. But that was not the type of experience to help him with this. He barely knew anything about the city he was in, other than that it was huge, infested with the infected, bandits, and maybe a few other survivors like himself. But for now, Alexis had more critical issues to think about than just his escape plan. First, he needed to survive. He had a shotgun and a few shells and a bit of food and medical supplies he had managed to scrounge from around the apartment and on a few of the store runs he had made early in the outbreak. But he would need more for sure, and a vehicle. For starters a car or truck would be nice. No shortage of them around but finding keys would be important since he had no idea how to jack a car.

Alexis shuffled about the small living room, gathering his meagre supplies and stuffing them into his bag. He picked up his Coach style side by side shotgun and strapping his machete down along his leg. At least he looked the part of a survivalist. He quickly swallowed his nerves and clutched at his Rosary. He stared over at the small crucifix that was hanging on the wall, one that he had put there a few days after it had all happened. He reached over and grabbed, making the sign of the cross as he did so, and placed it in the bag. He glanced at the door than out the large windows of the apartment before beginning to recite a prayer as he headed out the door.

"Notre Père qui es aux cieux. Que ton Nom soit sanctifié.Que ton règne vienne. Que ta volonté soit faite sur la terre comme au ciel. Donne-nous aujourd’hui notre pain de ce jour; Pardonne-nous nos offenses, Comme nous pardonnons aussi à ceux qui nous ont offensés; Et ne nous soumets pas à la tentation,
Mais délivre-nous du Mal. Car c’est à toi qu’appartiennent, le règne, la puissance et la gloire, pour les siècles des siècles.
Amen."




Alexis peered out from the door of the apartment building and stared out at a deserted road. Good. He stepped out quickly, and moved down along the sidewalk. He headed inland. He had a barebones knowledge of the area around him. Behind him, to the east, towards the water was Soldier Field. It had been a hotspot for medical and emergency personnel, not to mention the national guard. No luck getting anywhere that way. Along that water front to the north was Grant Park, the large and rather nice park that was certainly overrun with dozens of the infected. To the straight north was the downtown area. The most densely populated area of Chicago and the place were the most action was, when the National Guard and police forces were still trying to keep control over the city. That was another sure death trap. So for now, he would keep heading away from the waterfront, and keeping moving himself farther and farther south. Hoping to soon get out of the seemingly endless run-on that was the city of Chicago.

The streets were mostly peaceful. He noticed a few of the infected stumbling about and was sure to give them a wide berth. He was careful to walk quietly, keeping his shotgun along his side, he finger just off the trigger; ready at any second should need it. He suddenly came to an abrupt stop. He cursed softly under his breath. He ha reached the river. Well, that blocked his way west, that’s for sure. He peered off to both sides. To the north he saw one bridge along a major road. He shook his head and sighed. Not heading north and that bridge is sure to be swarmed with infected. Maybe even a few of the bandits roaming around. He turned. The south it is.
"How smooth must be the language of the whites, when they can make right look like wrong, and wrong like right." ~~ Black Hawk, Sauk

"When it comes time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home." ~~ Tecumseh

Free Leonard Peltier!!

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Elerian
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Founded: Aug 31, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Elerian » Fri Jun 08, 2018 11:34 am

Franklin Kersey, South Side

Never in the life of Franklin Kersey had he felt such gripping terror. He’d been running through back alleys for what seemed like an eternity, shredding through what little energy he had left. He wheezed heavily as his body demanded respite, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop running yet. The fear he’d felt at the Courthouse paled in comparison to what he felt right now, he’d been rushed out of the Courthouse so fast he barely had time to be afraid. Not to mention he’d been in the company of friends back then. Friends that had all been killed or turned. Franklin had prayed to any God that would listen for aid and safety, and mistakenly believed he’d been saved when he ducked into what had appeared to be an empty storefront.

Kersey only had just enough time to take half a sip of water from his canteen and regain his breath before more infected came sauntering out of the back room. The hunt was renewed, and he was on the menu.

Looking back, he couldn’t see his pursuers, but he also couldn’t know if they still gave chase. It didn’t matter how fast you could run, or how good of a fighter you were. Your skill with a gun didn’t mean shit when two more took its place, and the fact that you could drive better than a stuntman didn’t mean anything. In the end, they always got you.

His terror came anew as rubbage began clattering back the way he’d come. Franklin let out something resembling a whimper and pressed on harder. Unfortunately, after only a dozen more strides, his feet snagged on a hunk of rubble and sent him sprawling out of the alley and into the hard pavement of the street. He quickly scrambled to his feet, but he didn’t have anything left. They were too close, and he was too tired to press on any farther

Desperate, Franklin scanned his surroundings for anything, or anyone that could help him. A short ways down the street he thought he saw a tall man toting a shotgun. Fear’s icy embrace took hold over Franklin’s heart as he looked back down the alley to see a pair of shambling infected, swiftly closing the distance. He let out a yelp and turned towards the stranger down the street, moving as fast as he could towards the man. The shamblers seemed to get angry at this and picked up the pace to match his.

With the same terrified look as a deer running from a pack of ravenous wolves, Franklin advanced down the street as fast as he was able. Confused and dazed, he tried waving his arms and cried out in a hoarse whisper hoping the survivor would come to his aid.

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