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Post by .Merios on Jul 20, 2010 12:54:13 GMT -5
Matthew stood up straight, taking his a jagged breath as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The horde was gone- the room was littered with undead bodies and gore streaked the walls and flooring. He got himself in a bad situation and others had to waste their ammunition to help him out of it. Matthew looked at his left hand, the four slugs still in between his fingers. He broke his shotgun's breach and dropped two shells into the barrel, flipping it back up and moving his left hand to his belt and placed the shells back into the box, snapping it shut afterward.
He didn't notice as Aya pulled out her phone, illuminating a bit more area but not as strongly as another flashlight would have. Matthew quickly grasped the flashlight on the under barrel attachment slide of his shotgun and slid it off with a click. He brought his right hand, which was still gripping the shotgun, into the left side of his jacket, holstering it. He listened and watched her introduce him to a man that was now able to be seen from the dim light. Matthew reached down with his right hand (flashlight in his left) and grasped his Mateba, lifting it up and, with a flick of his wrist, the cylinder slid out of the autorevolver. He tipped it upwards, Aya was now speaking of her career in a Private Military Company. Matthew stopped for a moment.
No. She couldn't be.. Could she?
He bent down, retrieving an speed loader for his revolver with his right hand, grasping it in between his fingers. He shifted hands, holding the revolver in his left and the flashlight and auto loader in his right. He slid the loader into the cylinder, snapping a small plastic piece off and pulling it back, tossing the remains of the loader to the ground. He flicked the revolver back up, using his thumb to spin the barrel once before switching hands again, sliding the Mateba back into it's resting place on his right side. He shone the light on the man, illuminating him fully, then pointed it at the ground, allowing for Aya, Ty and himself to be seen. Matthew's scarf had drifted a bit, so his entire face could be seen as well as a bit of his neck. A slick of blood was oozing down near his right eye from a fresh vertical slice and drifted down his face, following the contours of his scarred mouth.
"Well, Tyson," Matthew said, outstretching his right, gloved hand, "You saved my ass, so you're okay in my book," he said with a smirk.
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Post by Mikey on Jul 21, 2010 3:25:10 GMT -5
“Firefight over, zombies dead, day saved.” Tyson said when all the gunfire was done, in the garage. He looked around and watched Matt come over, proving that the rapid gunfire from the mans revolver and shotgun hadn’t been panicked as Tyson had first thought, just very skilled. Interesting.
“We do good work.” He said, smiling and looking down at Aya. He then looked at her when she introduced him to Matt, saying he was second best. He looked at her with mock annoyance. “Second best, my Aunt Fanny.” He piped in before flipping the shotgun over so the feeding gate was facing up, pulling shells out of his pouch and feeding them in. Again, he overloaded it to six shells and slid it into the holster on his back. A holster made from a soft range bag cut in half and secured over his shoulder to sit flush against his back. When he needed to, he could get creative.
He then slipped the Desert Eagle from its holster and slid the magazine out of the weapon. He checked the rounds and saw two left, total of three. Sliding it into his pocket with the others, he pulled out a fresh fourteen round magazine. Almost a foot long, it reached past the butt of the weapon, a whole five rounds or so that wasn’t covered in the handle of the pistol. He slipped it back into the holster and saw Matthew holding out his hand, saying how he thought Tyson was a good guy in his book.
“Thank god for that.” He said, taking the mans hand in his and shaking it a few times. “When do you get a second chance for a first impression?” He said with a smirk. He looked back to Aya and then looked at them both equally. “So what are you guys here for?” He asked. “Food, a vehicle, shelter for a nights rest?” He asked. “If so, your in luck. I happen to have all three of those a couple floors up.” He said without thinking. He thought for a moment, and corrected himself. “Well… The trucks down here, food and shelter are up there.” He said. “I aint that strong.” He laughed.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jul 21, 2010 7:24:23 GMT -5
A sound of protest mixed with ecstasy came from Aya as she imagined her head against a comfortable pillow, "I could do with a warm bed after so many shoddy nights in the swamp," her light flicked off once she had her bearings, "Although the water fern matris was nice after a while. It sort of hugged you back," the sound of a door opening and closing, keys jingling; hazard indicators blinked in the darkness and not long after headlights were switched on, toned down to low beam, "That's better," pushing her fringe over her ear. The sign saying 'Valet Office' made it really easy to find the box containing guests car keys.
"I'm just studying infected wildlife," Aya answered, returning to the two; she shrugged a little, "Sort of a vacation. I don't hold a lot of respect for the human race anymore. Time by myself sounded like a good idea," crossing her arms, "Kind of a nomad gig. Louisiana isn't a lenient place for doing research, though," shaking her head in resent, "Almost makes me wish I'd gone anti-clockwise around the states. It's gonna suck having to return for the wet season..." Louisiana's constant climate made this sound a little stupid, Aya went ahead to elaborate, "The wetter one," speaking about the summer time.
"Matthew on the other hand..." her sentence cut short after Aya realized she didn't really know why Matt was in the States, just that he had gotten sick of Germany, perhaps it wasn't far from her own excuse, "Dropped out of orbit?" she went comical, her attention span dipping, "Well anyway, I hadn't decided to stay put but since you've got a nice hub going here Nawlen's sounds a little more appealing," her arms swung a little, fidgeting as she rocked on the balls of her feet, "'Less you guys are as sick of it as I am,"
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Post by .Merios on Jul 21, 2010 12:58:18 GMT -5
Matthew turned away once the man let go of his hand letting them talked amongst themselves, scanning the room. There were literally bodies creating what seemed like a second layer of flooring. He looked back towards the garage, noticing the Valet sign lighting up like a beacon. He turned back to them when she mentioned his name. He smirked, dropped out of orbit; it was near the truth. He didn't want to stay here too long, but seeing as he was among friendlies as opposed to hostiles, it was a welcome change of scenery.
"Ever heard of the Bundeswehr?" He paused, then continued, "Ran into them in the countryside in Germany. Made contact with a pack of Organics, they tore through a seven-man special ops team, leaving 2 left. We had a few others tagging along in a convoy that got hit, it was filled with young survivors. I was fortunate enough to be there when it happened and helped get rid of the leader of the 'Weapons." Matthew scrunched his face up, giving a look of disdain, Twenty men in the convoy. Two survived. Total of 5 of us were left by the time the creature took off. I had to leave- I wasn't going to stick around when the mad Russian started swinging."
He stepped a few feet forward, walking past the two and towards the garage, but stopping short. He sighed for a moment, looking at the heavy metal door he crunched like a wad of paper. He quickly looked away, hoping not to draw any attention.
"So.. Cars? This way?" He said quickly, pointing towards the garage door as he hurriedly started towards it.
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Post by Mikey on Jul 22, 2010 14:06:27 GMT -5
“Same here…” Tyson muttered when he heard Aya talk about lack of respect for the human race. He had to admit, he’d met more than his fair share of total pricks.
“Hell, I’m always sick of this place, but I aint here on vacation.” Tyson said. He wanted more than anything to get out of here, be able to go and be a part of humanity again. Hell, didn’t matter if he was going back to a place like PMCD and going back to infected zones on a regular basis, he would still be able to go back once the job was done.
Matt piped up about his experiences in Germany, a run in with the Bundeswehr, a convoy of folks, and some Russians apparently. Sounds like he’d had his fill of all of Europe. Tyson didn’t blame him. Politics around there, good god. It should be illegal for so many countries to be in such close proximity of each other. Hell, you drive for long enough in one direction, you may end up braking a federal law you didn’t know about.
He was ready to start saying something else, but Matt started to walk off, and then walk back in another direction a bit too quickly. He was an odd one… Or he was trying to hide something. Tyson went along with it. Didn’t want to spook him or get him angry, he must have had a reason. Tyson wasn’t all that worried anyway. He could take care of himself against a lot of stuff, a human was the least of his worries.
He looked at Aya with an eyebrow up, looking at Matt one more time. “Over that way, we can get out and to the lobby.” He said.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jul 23, 2010 0:54:31 GMT -5
)(I get the feeling we all have different ideas of where everything is. Sack me for contradicting, but I've made a map so nobody has puppies when characters start walking in the wrong direction. Cut off unimportant areas of the hotel too.)(“Hell, I’m always sick of this place, but I aint here on vacation.” A clap emitted as Aya made a single applaud, "Excellent, then I'm ready once everyone else is. I think all that needs checking is the means for transportation," she spoke fast and with an oddly posh English accent, "You could decrease your carbon footprint by traveling with Ty in his truck," jesting, "Could also help with agro we might pull going cross country. Otherwise pick a unit," the keys that had been used to turn on the headlights flew in Matthews direction. "I need to go and get my bike, it's about a block away," she began to strut the length of the garage, "We'll meet in front of the hotel before heading out, then take the nearest interstate West... hopefully neither of you detest Nevada," as far as she could tell Ty or Matt didn't have a reason to beg to differ; Ty was probably used to dry heat with the Dragonfly HQ being setup in the 'hot-as-sh*t' spot they called Baghdad. Matthew would just need to man up if he prefered colder climates. Garage door. Aya looked about for a means of opening it; a button or a lever; nothing rightly stood out except for a small switch on the North side which she flicked a couple of times, 'Power mustn't be connected properly,' looking back to the Valet office. There might be a means in there, but Aya shrugged it off. She crouched down digging her fingers into the under piece crinkling the metal like paper and pulled the shutter up. A part of the girl didn't want to waste anyones time or put her two companions in jeopardy, she jogged off towards the dark alley her Luna was parked in entering from the adjacent side of the block in the mask of hindsight. Turning the corner in the small lot behind the apartment complex issued a sight Aya wasn't particularly fond of, 'Laughing. Gunshots,' you find a nice bike and you go ahead and nab it. They'd pulled all of her belongings out of their pouches too. Temper rising. She watched as one of two men attempted to do something to the keyhole. As if feeling the lasers from her eyes one looked up and patted his friend on the shoulder, "It seems we've also stumbled across the driver," hijacker #1 probably continued on from small conversation with his friend, speaking up in an Irish accent to make sure Aya heard him, "Maybe we could get the keys?" he had some serious intuition, both of them slowly walking towards her. A whisper of cool wind passed through the alley, a piece of loose discarded fabric flapping from a dustbin close to the Ivory girl. Aya yanked it loose and began to wrap it around her left arm; this made the two men cackle, one of them asking, "What the hell are you doing that for?"It seemed his intuition wasn't as impressive as Aya first thought, "I don't like getting blood on my clothes," her voice dropped low and became something darker, a different animal; it was as if the walls were speaking, amplifying her voice for her, making sure she was heard. The hijackers froze up leaving the window of time open for Aya to blink towards the first, her shoes skidding to a halt as her fist smashed through the mans stomach. She brought her foot up to his chest pushing him off her arm. The second man backed up, holding his hands out in protest; Aya wasn't prepared to give pity though, circling him towards the wall. As she grew closer, his pleas grew louder, right up until the almighty force collided with the mans face vaporising his head and embedding the upper half of his body into the wall. 'Minor splatter I can deal with, though,' Aya tugged the once beige/now red cloth from her limb, flexing. Going through her belongings was like searching a womans purse, that sort of chivalry she didn't appreciate, replacing all of her objects and slipping the Springfield into its scabbard.
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Post by .Merios on Jul 23, 2010 2:02:53 GMT -5
Matthew was turned away as he headed towards the headlights, the actual structure of the car coming into question due to the dense black of the atmosphere behind it. He had his flashlight, but he had since slid it back into it's leather loop on his belt. It hadn't come to mind, so he dismissed any thoughts about using it. A set of keys soared into the air and he quickly caught it, grasping the bundle of objects. He turned it over, leaning into the light and bathing his hand in it, his eyes landing on the key lanyard with a logo- it was a Chevy. He turned his head to watch as Aya strode out of the garage like she owned the place, directing them to Nevada. He didn't have any open objections, so he kept to himself, circling the headlights around to the side of the car.
Curiosity overwhelmed him- the light gave him just enough to have a faint outline of the car shining them. He smirked, loving her style. He finally reached down to his waist, pulling up his flashlight and lifting it, shining it over the length of the car. He could tell the make and model just by the way the curves met with each other, straightening out into a beauty.
"Black betty.." He whispered to himself.
He opened the car door, the black color of the car almost camouflaging him as he slid inside, sitting down on the leather seat. He turned behind almost instantly to get a good look of the back seat. He then sighed with relief, moving to press the key into the engine and switch off the light. He stepped out, shutting the door quietly and looking to Tyson and then the way Aya went. He nodded to Tyson as he passed him, heading in her direction- he just had to ask her where the door was. She answered his question without even saying anything- the ease in which she lifted the heavy shutter intrigued him. He crouched low, which seemed irrelevant considering he was in pitch black darkness inside the garage.
He followed her out, cautiously staying behind her and moving slowly. She headed through an alleyway alongside an apartment complex and turned a corner into a parking lot. He slinked up to the edge of the building, flattening up against the brick. Tyson was moving through his head now- did he follow him? Did he have a reason to? His thoughts were interrupted when he leaned a little bit out of the corner, watching as she spoke.
"I don't like getting blood on my clothes."
She was wrapping something around her left arm. He could see in the distance two men were fussing with her bike. In a flash, she was in front of one of the men, a streak of blood exploding outward of his back and spraying onto the ground as she pulled him off her arm, dropping his limp body to the ground. His eyed widened as she circled the other, his cries getting louder and louder until her arm collided with his head, his entire body sent into the brick wall, his head seemingly disappearing with a splash of gore. Matthew has seen this sort of behavior before- in himself. He backed up a few paces, taking in a jagged breath. She's.. He didn't take another moment to theorize.
He quickly turned and jogged back to the garage, taking a moment to pause and collect himself at the now-opened garage door. He couldn't tell if Tyson was around anymore- the light was completely gone. He lifted his flashlight from his belt and found his way through the garage, stopping when he got to the commandeered Impala. He walked to the door and opened it, stopping and turning his head back towards the garage door, squinting, bringing his left sleeve to his forehead and wiping a bead of sweet from his forehead. He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him and putting his hand on the key in the ignition. Before turning, he hesitated. Should I even go with them? He wasn't sure he should risk his freedom running with.. With a monster. What am I saying? He turned the key, the engine roaring to life and dropping to a loud purr as he reached down with his right hand, bringing the car into gear and switching his flashlight off, throwing it in the backseat along with his backpack. He drew over his seat belt and clicked it in, pulling forward towards the garage door.
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Post by Mikey on Jul 23, 2010 3:20:07 GMT -5
(I was trying to be vauge. Sounded to me like he was walking out, and then walked back to try and avoid showing that he had demolished the steel door.)
“All right, Mary Poppins.” Tyson said with a laugh, poking fun at her fake British accent. “Gimme fifteen minutes, I’ll be out front.” He said, having already timed how long it would take him to get up the stairs and to the room. Four up, three down. He estimated eight minutes to gather everything. He could always say it was for some kind of tactical purpose, but he didn’t have any evidence to back that up. Truth be told, he had just gotten bored one day and timed himself from the lobby to his penthouse. That same day, he had alphabetized his MRE’s and built a house of cards that had taken seventeen decks. Six attempts and having it fall down had prompted him to tape the cards together.
The fact that she lifted the garage door with one hand intrigued him, but he figured not in the same way it did Matthew. Tyson knew she wasn’t quite human, but besides recovering from a hole the size of a Licker’s tongue into her back and out her chest, he had never seen her do anything out of the ordinary. Sure, she was damn quick, pretty strong, tough as hell. He’d always just chalked that up to her being that damn good as a soldier. But apparently, it wasn’t so much training as it was her.
He took off from the group, not needing backup and knowing the other two didn’t. Aya for sure, and Matt looked like he could handle himself if their minutes old firefight was anything to judge by.
He acended the stairs at a quick pace, using them for exorcise more than once in his long stay. He got up the steps, past the barricade that he didn’t bother puttng back, and checked the hallway for the second to last time. Again, as it had been the several dozen times before, it was clear. He got to his room, opened the door with th key, and walked inside. He took a look around for a moment, in the living room where he spent most of his time. Just slept there on a matrass he had taken from the bedroom. The shelf was lined with MRE’s and there was the huge display of cards in the corner. He silently wondered if he was going to miss this place, and shook the thought from his head. The more he thought of it, the more he wanted to get some gasoline and leave a trail from here to the door and light this b*tch on fire. He hated this f**king place…
To the bedroom he went, yanking the blanket from the bed. The matrass was gone, instead a big metal case was there. It looked like a brief case, in a way. It was rectangular, it had a handle and two latches. That was the end of the similarity. More like arms cases, reinforced steel. Inside, the thing that set him apart from other mercenaries laid, unused and probably feeling lonely. It used to be Tyson felt like it was a part of him, his better half as he liked to think of it. The half that got s*** done, that ave bad guys a new thing to be scared of. He really hoped he would get the chance to use it again. If he was lucky, against some Sincell boys.
He hefted the case that weighed two hundred pounds plus pounds with relative ease, getting it up on his shoulder and bracing it against the side of his head. Ignoring the pinching pain in his ear, he took it out into the main room. He dropped it on the ground and opened the latch. Not worried about breaking anything, he started to drop MRE’s in any space they would fit. If anything in that case was going to break from a five foot fall, he certainly didn’t need to wear it into a combat situation.
When the case was so full it wouldn’t close without some persuasion, he latched it and hefted the now over three hundred pound case. This time he held it by the handle and put his arm up, letting his hand bend back to his shoulder to support it.
It didn’t take long to get back to the lobby, and then in front of the building. He kept the truck there, hidden in plain view. A piece of s*** Ford half ton, damn near no paint left. Missing a passenger mirror, cracked tail light, broken out headlight, cracked up windshield. But the phrase “don’t judge a book by its cover” had to have been made for that truck. Someone had dumped at least ten grand under the hood. Tyson had only noticed it because, when he had first found it, it’s hood was up. All the shiny chrome and sleek steel parts had caught his eye, and he knew he had found his vehicle. It had even had gas it in, a bonus. He threw the case into the bed with a clang and got into the drivers seat. Pulling the keys out of his pocket, he started it up and reveled in the roar of the engine. He saw an Impala come out of the garage, knew it was Matt. The Impala… Sure, it might have been fast, but it couldn’t take a hit worth s***. Tyson could plow this thing through a horde of zombies and not even scratch the paint. Well, only because it didn’t have any paint, but the body would be fine.
He figured Aya heard the engine, and true to his word, he sat there and waited for her.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jul 23, 2010 10:56:52 GMT -5
Albeit damaged, the key fit the ignition with a little percussive maintenance; it had been bent a little. When the Luna fired up she stuttered slightly, indicating her distaste of the vandalism, 'Sorry girl,' Aya pushed the stand up and rolled out into the street, she held her fringe on the approach to the hotel stopping it from slapping her face.
Two vehicles stood out; a Chevy and a Ford. This was one demented convoy. The Chevy seemed made for Matthew; the Ford? Aya sized it up, 'Ty could do better. Although he wouldn't pick it without reason,' she was confident the truck wouldn't weigh them down. Her Luna? Aya would be scouting ahead, zipping about to make sure their path wasn't overlapped with a mass of carriers. It dawned on her that communication would probably be helpful, but they could leave that until later.
Leaning against her bike, "Should be enough light to make some decent distance," Aya shouted over the engines, "We'll find a suitable spot to hole up after the edge of the sun leaves the horizon," the trip would be long, but if they kept on top of their game and reduced sleeping hours they'd make it in just over three days. Aya nodded once more, saluting casually as usual before pulling her hood over her head, pinning one side to the other with her hair clip; incognito.
)(Road trip to Nevada. Engage.)(
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Darth Revan
Zombie Hunter
The Dark Side
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Posts: 222
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Post by Darth Revan on Apr 7, 2013 20:44:43 GMT -5
-Abigail Marie Bertrand has entered the Abandoned Mardi Gras Festival (2020)-
"Wow, this place is enormous."[/color] Abigail said to herself in fascination as she traveled through the remnants of what others might have viewed as a glorious carnival. Looking around, it was clear that in its prime the carnival must have been a blast. However glamorous it may have once been, though, it was clear that nothing had survived the test of time. Constant exposure left the rides as rusted skeletons of their former selves. It was a shame, really. In her teenage years, Abigail had always wanted to attend the New Orleans Mardi Gras festival. Now, she was there for a much more practical reason: to find food for a group of survivors she had met earlier.
As she continued walking through the area, Abigail kept her sub-machine gun ready to fend off anything that may be lurking around. Her caution proved to be beneficial when she turned a tent's corner to be met by a small group composed of about five walkers. She fired five shots, one bullet into the head of each walker. They all dropped to the ground as the blood drained from their bodies, forming red pools around them. "Well, that wasn't too hard." she said with a proud smirk before carrying on.
Abigail walked into an abandoned food stall, hoping to find even the smallest of scraps to bring back. She opened one of the cabinets within the stall. It was completely empty. Next, she moved her hand to the handle of another cabinet and tugged it open. Nothing. "Damn it."[/color] she cursed and questioned why she was searching to begin with; it's been eight years since the infection took over. If she actually managed to find anything, it would be rotten.
"Whatever,"[/color] she said, "If I'm going to do this, I might as well be somewhat optimistic about it." With those words, she continued her scavenging.
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Post by Dark Nomad on Apr 8, 2013 0:00:31 GMT -5
Connor had been avoiding the festival grounds for weeks now. He knew that most of the food would have been rotten and the animals would have avoided it as well. There wasn't going to be anything worth finding there and nowhere to hide if needed. The sound of gunshots that rang out didn't solidify his want to search the carnival. Though if whoever it was that shot was now dead, their gear was now up for grabs. Bullets, guns, food and anything else they were carrying was now laying on the ground.
Connor readied his bow as he started into the carnival. He was ready for anything to jump out and attack him. He didn't see any walkers about which meant they had followed food or were dead. Again. He kept low and along any walls that he could and made sure the coast was clear before moving from cover. He was stealthy but also a tank when it came to fighting. A deadly combo.
When he spotted the girl he knew nothing good could come with her being around. She openly fired guns and spoke to herself. He raised his bow and lined up his shot but for unknown reason decided to talk to her instead. "Better not make any sudden movements." He said simply to her as he kept her lined up in his sights. "Why're you going around shooting for no reason? Walkers and most likely anything worse will be here by nightfall if not sooner." He said bluntly as if she had no idea how the end of the world worked. Almost like it was her first day in the world. "You should probably get out of here if I was you." He said before releasing the tension of the bow and turning to leave.
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Darth Revan
Zombie Hunter
The Dark Side
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Posts: 222
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Post by Darth Revan on Apr 8, 2013 9:46:27 GMT -5
Abigail was going through a refrigerator when she heard the nearly silent stretching sound. Turning her head, she discovered the source of a noise; a man had drawn his bow which was aimed directly at her. Almost instinctively, Abigail began to raise her weapon towards the man, but restrained herself from attempting to fight at the sound of his voice. She glanced back over at the man to find his bow was still at the ready. Although it annoyed her, she recognized that there nothing more to do but follow his demands, and if an opportunity arises to strike, take it.
Abigail remained mostly quiet as the man nagged at her for creating noise; every now and then she'd let out a sigh similar to that of a bored teenager sitting in a classroom. In reality, Abigail found it humorous that this man was lecturing her. She'd think that the man would realize that if she's been around for eight years she'd probably understand what she's doing by now. When the man stopped talking and lowered his weapon she pointed her UMP towards him before speaking herself. "Man, you'd think that if I'm still alive eight years after an apocalypse I'd know what I'm doing."[/color] she said in a manner that was somewhat cocky, yet somewhat playful as well.
She kept her weapon raised at the man until the ground began to shake ferociously. "Oh, s***."[/color] she muttered. The ground continued to quake; a sign that things were about to get out-of-hand. Abigail leapt from the spot she had been standing almost milliseconds before an enormous worm poked out from beneath the ground. A fourth of the massive creature's body remained underneath the ground, while the rest of it was met by the scorching heat of the sun. It attempted to slam it's weight upon Abigail, but she moved too quickly as she began to put some distance between herself and the worm while firing into its mouth.
"Hey!"[/color] she yelled at the man whom had threatened her earlier. "A little help would be nice!"[/color] By now, attracting walkers would be unavoidable, so she had no qualms over her shouting.
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Post by Dark Nomad on Apr 8, 2013 10:49:37 GMT -5
Connor thought about leaving her there but knew if she died quickly that thing would attack him. He laughed at her and said "You'd think after 8 years you would know what you were doing." He slung his bow over his shoulder and started using his M16. The higher powered three burst shot made it angrier than the ump. Once he emptied the magazine he slung it back over his shoulder. This thing was mean, hungry and durable and wasn't going to go down without a fight. Connor continued to shoot the creature with his pistol as it lunged at him. He side stepped in and knocked it off course with a heavy punch to what the figured was it's head. He quickly used this split second to jump at it with his machete and started hacking at it.
The creature had a huge chunk missing from it's neck-like area much like a tree being chopped down would. Quickly it burrowed back underground but the other end popped up and showed a big set of teeth identical to the other end. This side seemed more mad than the last and lunged at the pair who easily dodged it and Connor started in on this side but was cleaver about it. When he got on it's back he started to shoot arrows into it's back. He knew the soft flesh would be easy to shoot through and then it got stuck into the ground. Soon enough this end had been pinned down causing the other end to come up, leaving the who creature vulnerable.
Connor wasn't about to leave without his arrows but he didn't want to waste more time than he had to. He started back on the spot where he had started earlier. "Kill that end!" He ordered the girl. By the time he was done carving up the worm, he was covered in its disgusting blood. When it was finally dead he took his arrows back and checked the area. He was sure walkers would be around for sure but the closest one was still some distance away. "Like I said, you'd better get going." He said to her before he turned to leave. It wasn't going to be safe here in the matter of an hour and the only two true safe spots in New Orleans was his hiding spot and the Voodoo Priests house. That crazy man had lived for eight years in the same house. Many had come to him for refuge and found it.
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Darth Revan
Zombie Hunter
The Dark Side
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Posts: 222
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Post by Darth Revan on Apr 8, 2013 11:50:28 GMT -5
Throughout the fight with the worm, Abigail was aiming into the mouth of the creature with her UMP. While the man's assault rifle may have packed more of a punch per bullet, her submachine gun was still powerful. The creature attempted to slam its weight on top of Abigail once more, but she easily tumbled away from it. By now, the man and her forced up the other end of the creature, and the man shouted at her to kill the other side. "It'd be my pleasure."[/color] she said with a smirk and hopped on top of the worm.
Now atop the creature's back, she sprinted across with relative ease. Upon reaching the other side, she front-flipped off the worm and landed into a soft patch of grass. In retaliation to the pain the man was causing on the other side, the worm lashed back and forth like a baseball bat attempting to hit Abigail. With precision, Abigail fired the rest of her weapon's magazine into the squishy inside of the creature's mouth. Splashes of a sickening red blood came dripping out of the mouth as the behemoth crashed to the ground. When its moving slowed to a stop, Abigail sighed with relief and replaced her UMP's empty magazine with the last one she had. "Well that was a fight."[/color] she said as her heart rate began to slow down.
After regaining her calm, she turned to the man, who was yanking his arrows out from the worm. "Thanks for the help."[/color] she said as he was reclaiming them. Moments after the man finished he turned away and told Abigail she'd best get going once more. "Gotcha."[/color] she said while turning in the opposite direction and beginning to walk. It saddened her that she was going to return back empty-handed, but there was legitimately nothing that hadn't already been scavenged.
A few minutes had passed of her walking before she was engulfed by thoughts of the man again. Whomever he was, he was definitely a formidable fighter. Maybe I could bring him to camp, she thought and turned back around. He was still visible, but rather far away. Perhaps he has nowhere else to go. At that thought, she sprinted back towards the man.
What must have been eight-hundred meters she ran in about thirty-three seconds; she couldn't help but feel slightly grateful that Tricell gave her these powers. Had they not forced her to kill, she might have actually appreciated the company. When she reached the man, she stopped in front of him. "Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot, after all, you aimed your bow at me."[/color] she said, jokingly. "But there's a group of survivors I met earlier who could use a guy like you. You're a damn good fighter, and people like you could help the survive another day."[/color] she said with a friendly smile.
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Post by Dark Nomad on Apr 8, 2013 12:52:27 GMT -5
He let her finish speaking but something about her definitely felt off. He also wanted nothing to do with groups of people. "Let me stop you right there, hun. The day a man approaches you with his hands in his pockets is the day you fear what he is going to do to you not if he is going to shoot you for drawing on him. People are the reason the world ever got this bad, especially large groups of people. Survival of the fittest is what the game has become because of how much the world helped people who couldn't take care of themselves. You're obviously capable of surviving, to an extent, but a large group will get you killed." He said to her. There was sincerity alongside annoyance in his voice as he explained things to her.
Even though he said that and his gut was saying to turn and walk away, which he was cursing himself for, the look in the girl's eyes made him go with her. The puppy dog eyes still were able to make him change his mind. "Fine, f*ck it, let's go." he said as they turned to go back into the direction she was headed earlier. He had no idea where they were headed and his gear was all stored where he had been hiding at night.
"So what's your name and where are we headed? I'd like to know so that way when I get the chance I can grab my gear that I stashed away. Know what, let's take a detour to grab my stuff." He said as he guided her around a corner towards where he was keeping stuff.
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