|
Post by JazzBuddah on Oct 27, 2011 15:12:57 GMT -5
((OOC: need an extra player by chance? Let me know if you're interested))
|
|
|
Post by Caliber on Oct 27, 2011 17:30:02 GMT -5
Allison stood behind the bar, gathered a few beers, and passed them around. She firmly shook Johnny's hand, then set a beer in front of him, but he didn't look interested. Regardless, she left the bottle there, were he to change his mind. As Allison reached over to hand Taryn her beer, she instead requested some fruity-sounding drink, sounding completely serious. Allison froze in place, confused, wondering whether or not she was serious. She didn't have to wonder for long, however, as Taryn immediately grinned and took the beer, telling Allison that she was joking. Once everyone had a bottle in hand, save for Johnny, Allison dropped a few metal bottle openers on the center of the counter top.
Allison then retrieved a glass of her own, and a bottle of whiskey from beneath the counter, briefly ignoring the excessive questions about her plan. She poured herself a shot, then raised the glass to her lips. Before drinking, however, she had a sudden realization.
"Oh... wait, sh*t!" she said as she set the glass back down. "I forgot! Don't get too buzzed, we've got sh*t to do," she told them.
Allison picked her glass back up, and stared thoughtfully at the liquid within, trying to decide whether or not she should drink it, for fear of not being at her best during her plan. Allison grunted out a sigh, deciding not to indulge herself, then poured the whiskey back into its bottle.
"Before I go into more elaborate detail about my plan for this place, we've gotta take care of the stragglers outside and in the surrounding buildings," Allison told the group, now leaning against the bar table. "Last night, the infected were getting a little restless, and that can be bad for business. So, we're gonna kill 'em. There's a five-story apartment complex in the building next door, above and on the opposite side of the cafe. Those two buildings are my main concern. While we're in there, we'll also be able to scavenge a little bit of this and that."
Allison paused, thought for a moment, then began speaking to Ceaser.
"Ceaser, you and I will head up the cargo lift behind me, come out through that vacant shop above, make our way around the back alley, and then enter the apartment complex. We'll work our way up floor-by-floor and gather what we can, killing any infected in our way."
Allison immediately redirected her gaze to Taryn and Johnny, then continued speaking.
"Taryn, Johnny, you two can go out the main entrance and work your way to the cafe. I scouted the place out last week, and there were a bunch of zombies holed up in the kitchen. If the cafe proves no trouble, I want you two to then work on clearing out that parking garage across the street. I didn't get a chance to scope the place out yet, so be prepared for anything."
Allison then focused on the group as a whole, and continued yet again.
"If you've got suppressors, use them. Otherwise, use something sharp... or blunt. We don't need to be attracting more infected to the area. I've got my AK over there with an integrated suppressor, but no subsonic ammo. Without subsonic ammo, that son of a b*tch still makes one hell of a crack, and that would no doubt attract every infected in the building to my position-- so, same goes for you, unless you've got a suppressor and subsonic ammo, don't risk a shot unless you have to. I've got a few radios which each of us can take, in case anybody gets in trouble. Like I said, we'll be splitting up into pairs, so stick together as best you can."
Allison realized that she'd been speaking rather quickly, and that everyone had arrived only minutes ago, but it was necessary to get started as soon as possible, to insure that everything got done before night fall.
"Being the middle of December, the infected don't spend too much time outside, due to the harsh weather. Even though most of the snow from last week's blizzard has melted, they're probably still holed up in doors, so don't underestimate a small building and assume it only contains a few of the walkers. Also, downtown Raccoon City is known for an occasional dog or licker now and again, so watch the shadows."
Allison took a breath and studied the group's reactions.
"Any questions?"
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Oct 27, 2011 18:06:14 GMT -5
Ceaser picked up his beer and held it to his lips, taking a drink before he stopped short at Allison’s sudden outburst. He set the beer back on the bar and sighed. Oh well. Least he had a cold beer waiting for him when he got back.
She laid out a plan, pairing herself and him up to clear the apartment building. She laid out the general ground rules that he was sure they already knew, at least himself and Taryn. The other guy, maybe. He didn’t know anything about him. He reached down and picked up the bag he had brought with him, unzipping it and taking the items out of it. If they were going to scavenge, he might as well be the pack mule. He took his AA-12 out and set it aside, along with his vest. It would just be dead weight. If he got bit, it wouldn’t be in the chest, he was pretty sure. He did start strapping his elbow and knee pads on, however. He was a street fighter above all else, and he used all parts of his body when he could.
Allison asked the group if they had any questions, and he just shook his head as he pulled out his 1911 and brass checked it. He would be a moron if he went out without a gun at all, even though he didn’t have a suppressor. Winning a tough fight and then having to run was better than losing a tough fight and getting eaten. He slipped it back into the holster, the hammer cocked, and pulled out his main weapon for the little outing.
The trench club, as he called it anyway. He’d made it himself when the going was tough, and it had held up nicely for all of this time. Solid oak, it was hard to find a length of wood stronger than this. With inch long wide headed bolts inside to make striking surfaces. It was odd to see such a piece of junk in his collection of otherwise pristine and modern equipment, but this was the only piece of sentiment that he allowed himself.
He gave it a small practice swing and set it on the bar, taking one more drink of his beer. Three drinks of beer wasn’t going to do anything to him. And if it did, it was probably drugged to begin with.
“I’m good to go.” He said as he pulled out a few magazines from his bag and slipped them into a pouch, which then clipped onto his web belt. His bag was empty now. His vest and primary weapon, along with its drums, were sitting on the bar. But the place locked. He was sure it would be ok. And if not, he wouldn’t be missing anything that couldn’t be replaced.
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on Oct 28, 2011 15:18:25 GMT -5
Taryn took a few swigs from her beer and then set it back down on the table. What Allison said made sense. You can’t have a bar open with the undead eating the patrons before they arrived. They’d probably have to clear out that parking garage several times until they blocked off the lower levels.
“I have just one more mag of subsonic 9mm”, she said, hitting the release on her SIG and dropping out the magazine. From her belt, she grabbed another one and slammed it in the grip and chambered the first round before putting it back into her holster. “But I’ll leave the rest of the stuff here.”
She laided her shotgun on one of the tables and beside it she placed her SL-8. Then she checked out her machete and made sure her K-Bar was in place. Lastly, she pulled on a heavy black sweatshirt and pulled the hood up, tucking her hair into it before tightening it down. She had seen people with long hair being dragged to their death by it. Then she grabbed her flashlight and dumped the rest of her gear on the bench in the corner.
Looking over at Johnny, she smiled. “The sooner we start, the sooner get back here and finish our drinks."
|
|
|
Post by NotAvailable on Oct 28, 2011 22:19:03 GMT -5
Johnny nodded at Allison's directions before turning to head back out to his car to get his things. Before he did, he heard Taryn commenting at him and smiled at her. "Sounds like a plan, sweetheart." he told her before gesturing toward the entry way.
"Just let me grab a few things outside. I'll meet y'all out there." he told them before wandering off. He didn't have a problem going melee on the undead bastards. He's spent enough time doing crap like that to survive zombie prison.
Upon leaving the Bar to the chilly air outside, he'd made his way passed a couple of empty garbage cans to get to his car. Opening the door, he seated himself inside, momentarily, grabbing at a few esential things. A pack of smokes, his hat and then plucked the photograph of his sister off the windshield, sticking it into his jacket pocket.
"Alright, flashlight and my crowbar. My other sh*t's on me aaannnd, I'm good ta go," he mused to himself, getting out of his car and gently shutting the door, careful not to catch any unwanted attention.
|
|
|
Post by Caliber on Oct 31, 2011 12:36:14 GMT -5
Allison began to gather her things, as the others continued to gather theirs. She moved out from behind the bar and toward the two sofas on the opposite wall of the room. Her rifle still sat on top of her folded jacket in the corner of one of the couches, where it had been when the others arrived. Allison lifted the jacket out from under her rifle, unfolded it, and slipped it on, pushing one arm through at a time. She then lifted her rifle off of the couch and slung it over her shoulder. Finally, she retrieved the four "walkie-talkie" radios off of the small end-table between the two couches before returning to the bar. She reached across the Bar to Taryn and set two radios in front of her.
"Here," she said. "Go meet up with Johnny outside, and make sure he gets one. Radio in when you get out there, and we'll get underway."
Allison sat down on one of the bar stools and lifted her rifle off her her shoulder, then set it on the bar. She reached into the lower left pocket of her coat and pulled out two spare magazines, then set them beside the rifle. Allison lifted the rifle up and flicked the mag release, dropping out the magazine. She made sure it was filled to its capacity, then shoved it back into the rifle, where a round was already loaded into the chamber.
Standing back up, she slung the rifle back over her shoulder, then shoved both magazines into her pockets. Turning to Ceaser, she handed him one of the two remaining radios, before moving back behind the bar and toward the control panel on the wall that controlled the cargo lift. Allison flicked a switch and the 4x7 foot lift began lowering from the ceiling. Upon reaching the ground, Allison stepped onto the lift and awaited Ceaser to join her before flicking the switch again and sending them to the surface.
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on Nov 1, 2011 14:52:43 GMT -5
{{OOC - Hey I didn't know if we wanted to do two posting cycles at the same time where I can respond to NA without waiting for Caliber and Mikey and they could do the same thing, or would that be too confusing?}}
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Nov 2, 2011 23:31:42 GMT -5
(Sounds good to me. I think we’re all smart enough to pick out one post from another. Ladies?)
Ceaser stepped over to the lift when Allison did, hearing the slight groan of the metal at the near four hundred pounds of weight it was lifting. He waited patiently for the list to take them to the top, snickering at a sudden joke that popped in his head.
“We’re just missing the muzak.” He said with a grin. They made it to the top floor, the area bare with several metal shelving units placed there with no pattern. A couch was against the far wall, and he smirked.
“Nice place. I’m seeing a lot of potential.” He said, taking a look around as he followed her lead. When they reached the door to the outside, he stopped and squeezed his club tightly to prepare for what was going to happen.
“Ready?” He asked, stacked up to the door.
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on Nov 3, 2011 10:27:36 GMT -5
{ooc - cool. Then I'll just post after Courier/NA}
Taryn grabbed both of the walkie talkies from Allison and nodded. She turned the channel over to the 2nd channel.
"We will be on channel 2." Then she headed for the door. As she opened it, she felt a little naked, looking back at her guns still laying on the counter. But it was probably for the best. Each shot might bring another dozen or so zombies out toward them.
Outside, she found Johnny just getting out of his car. As he approached, she tossed him a radio. She attached her to her belt and held her machete in one hand and her flashlight in the other. She nodded in the direction of the cafe, which happened to be the door next to the bar.
"Ladies first, I take it?", she asked.
|
|
|
Post by NotAvailable on Nov 3, 2011 18:19:46 GMT -5
Johnny caught the radio in his free hand then slung his metal bat over his shoulder, smiling at Taryn before waving the radio infront of him. "What kind of gentlemen would I be if it were anyother way?" he asked.
As the two wandered next door to the cafe Johnny caught a shambling, lone, undead near around the corner of it, it was maneuvering around an old garbage can, knocking it over and creating a rather large noise.
Pointing his bat at it, he chuckled. "I'd say that's our first victim today, ma'am."
((There's no cafe in the Downtown area sooo, I'm just assuming we're going to post the cafe thing here, eh Rhinn?))
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on Nov 7, 2011 15:29:58 GMT -5
(Yep, that sounds good)
Taryn motioned for Johnny to let him know that he could have first shot at the walker. While he did that, Taryn worked with the door. Breaking a window would have been easier, but it might have attracted unwanted attention towards them. So with a little jimmying and the use of one of her knives, she was able to pop the lock on the door and swing it open.
"Let's go", she said, stepping through the door with her flashlight up and her machete at the ready. The chairs and tables had been scattered all over the floor and overturned as people has rushed to be rid of the place. Taryn moved off to the left, intending to sweep around the side of the sitting area to the kitchen. Even with the low light, she counted no more than 10 tables and 30 chairs and most were moved off to the side. Only a zombie mouse could hide there, she thought.
At the counter, she took a quick look over it to see if anything would jump out at her.
Nothing did, but something was shuffling around in the kitchen. Whatever it was kept bumping into stuff and then thud against the door and wall and then go off somewhere else.
Taryn tensed up by the door, ready to kick it open. She looked behind her to see Johnny and then nodded significantly in the direction of the kitchen.
|
|
|
Post by Caliber on Dec 8, 2011 23:37:32 GMT -5
[Chapter 2: ] [/u][/i][/center] It had been nearly two months since Allison had contacted the other mercenaries. Through an immense amount of effort and dedication, the group managed to clear the surrounding buildings of infected and secure the streets. After scavenging several shops in the downtown area, they were also able to find enough supplies and odds 'n ends to fully furnish The Bar-- which was now lined with vending machines, sofas, a flat screen television, tables, and several other appliances. The building above the bar, which the elevator lift leads to, is now functioning as storage for the incredible amount of food that Allison and the other mercenaries had managed to gather. After blowing a hole through the wall, the upstairs building now directly connected to the cafe (which had been cleared out and barricaded)-- this gave The Bar a functioning kitchen, where they would be able to store and prepare food for either themselves or customers. 8:34PM, February 17th The Bar was booming with business. Several survivors-- mostly mercenaries-- lined the building. There were three or four small groups lounging around up in the entry hallway, and another few in the actual lounge, in front of the bar counter. The radio in front of Allison was blasting away, playing relatively calm music-- the kind you might hear at a Vegas casino. The television, mounted on the wall in the corner of the lounging area, was playing an old sports game tape. Despite being outdated and pre-recorded, and the fact that the entirety of both teams and everyone in the crowd were likely dead, the men in the lounge were thoroughly entertained, their voices booming with score that either team made. Two of the men in the lounge were loudly arguing with eachother, and the conflict between them was slowly escalating. After a storm of curse words, both men arose from their seat. Allison stood behind the bar counter, rag in hand, polishing up the counter-top in a circular scrubbing motion. Her Krinkov carbine sat on the counter by the cash register-- unloaded. Several empty thirty-round magazines were stacked beside it, along with multiple boxes of 9x39mm cartridges, ready to be loaded into magazines. Looking up, she noticed the commotion, and the two men, who were now pushing eachother. One of the men threw a punch, and the other man retaliated. "HEY![/i][/u] Allison roared angrily, her voice booming like a clap of thunder. The building went silent, save for the sounds of the television and radio, and all heads turned toward Allison-- except for the two men, who continued fighting. "Ceaser!" she called over her shoulder. "Drag these f*ckers outta here."
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on Dec 12, 2011 18:38:27 GMT -5
Taryn put down the glass of beer for the burly guy in front of her and stopped to look at where the ruckus was coming from. She put her hand under her tray... most regulars knew that her throwing knives were there... and that she was deadly accurate with them. A few of the patrons saw her do that and that they would be in the line of fire from her position and moved back just slightly. Others took bets on if the guys were stupid enough to defy Allison.
Not many people did that and were still considered "alive" the next day.
Taryn knew that Ceaser could handle both of them but they always backed each other up. She couldn't see Johnny, so she headed over to where she could either grab the door for the men who would soon be flying out of there, or to attack from the rear, if they proved to be stupid.
As she got into position, she felt under her tray until the handle of the blade was firmly in her hand. It would take but a second to have it out and fling it. She caught Ceasar's eye and nodded that she was ready.
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Dec 13, 2011 2:56:41 GMT -5
Jesus… Couldn’t there be a night that went by where there wasn’t a fight? Apparently not. Same s***. Two or more idiots would get into a disagreement that was fueled by booze, and someone would throw a punch. And the rest was history.
Stalking over from his position near the door, he shot a glance to Allison and then to Taryn. Both had his back, both were armed. He knew about Taryn’s knives under her tray, and he knew Alison kept her revolver under the bar. He kept his 1911 at the small of his back, hidden under his BDU jacket. Every one of the four owners of the Bar were armed at all times.
He made it to the pair of morons and behind one of them. He towered over one by a foot, the other by several inches. Just as the shorter of the two was about to wind up for another punch, Ceaser hooked his arm at the drunk’s elbow and clapped his hand onto the man’s throat. Using the back of his belt for leverage, as well as his superior size, he lifted the man into the air almost a foot and sent him air bourn across the floor. He landed with a heavy thud and a wheezing noise that sounded suspiciously like someone trying to catch their breath was heard.
The second, thinking Ceaser was on his side, only had time to let out a small smirk and start to taunt the other when Ceaser showed him just how wrong he was. With a quick uppercut, Ceaser sent the man to the ground with a few less teeth and a head start on his beauty sleep for the night. He looked at the other one in time to see that he was alert, reaching into his jacket. Ceaser reached behind him and yanked his 1911 from it’s holster, snapping it in front of him in time to see the grip of a Beretta come out of the man’s jacket.
The retort of the big bore weapon sounded four times. The first shot entered the man’s forearm. The second, chest. Third, throat. Fourth, just below the nose. A straight line up, the result of using the recoil from rapid fire to one’s advantage. Quickly making his way over, Ceaser moved the gun out of the dead man’s grip with his boot and turned to put his aim on the other drunk. He was still unmoving on the ground.
|
|
|
Post by Caliber on Dec 13, 2011 3:29:14 GMT -5
Allison glanced over to Ceaser as he made his way toward the fighting men. She made eye contact with him, then Taryn, and then glanced around for Johnny, but he wasn't in the room. He was likely still up by the entry way, letting people in and out.
Ceaser charged one of the men and attacked him. Allison watched as the scene played out, keeping her hand on the grip of her revolver in its holster. After Ceaser had tossed the first man to the floor, and knocked the other unconscious, the situation seemed well on its way to being defused. However, this turned out not to be the case, as the conscious man on the ground had suddenly reached for the handgun that he kept in his jacket pocket-- the same handgun that he had been flashing around for the past two hours. Allison remembered the man's piece. It was a Beretta 92FS with a stainless steel finish, bright green Tritium sights, and polished pearl grips-- a gun that is very hard to miss, and was very easily visible while it was being drawn from the man's coat.
Allison immediately tugged her large-caliber, break-action revolver out of its holster, cocking the hammer with her thumb as she began to raise it. However, before she could take aim, Ceaser had whipped around and pulled out his fifty-caliber 1911. Before Allison could blink, Ceaser had unloaded several rounds into the man's body. After a brief silence, the bar immediately entered a state of chaos, as people shouted and ran for the door.
Allison dropped her revolver onto the bar countertop, then placed one hand over her face and the other on her hip. Rubbing her forehead, she cursed.
"Damnit... not again," she grunted under her breath, irritated.
A similar incident had happened with the first few groups of visitors that had hung around the bar after it had been established. One man had gotten a bit too drunk, and decided to gun down his cheeky female companion. Allison had put a bullet in the man's head, and the bar was evacuated. This time, however, it was looking as though evacuation would not be difficult at all, as most people were already charging out of the building.
"F*ck it, we're closed," Allison said loudly enough for anyone who had planned on staying to hear.
It didn't take long before the building cleared out. Several beverages were scattered around the floors and tables, and the place was a mess.
"I think we can all agree that a new rule needs to be established," Allison spoke up, as her companions began to surround her. "Nobody is permitted to enter with a weapon of any kind-- except the four of us, of course. All weapons will be temporarily confiscated up front, then brought behind the bar. Everyone will have to retrieve their weapons from me before leaving. Sound good?"
Everyone seemed to be in agreement. Allison glanced across the room at the unconscious man, then at the dead man.
"Let's clean this up," she said, holstering her revolver and walking out from behind the bar counter. "Somebody get that guy's Beretta, too. It's a beauty," she added.
|
|