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Post by Lunapocalypse on Feb 20, 2010 13:16:39 GMT -5
)(OoC: You'll need to excuse the shortness of my posts. It's difficult Role Playing a character who should be incapacitated.)(
The bitter sweet smell of pine drifted over the open road, further down the horizon harbingers of light spewed through gaps in the grey rain clouds. Ash stood beside Faith as the cool breeze barreled out of the trees bringing an essence of rain, "Okay girl... we've got wind and water to worry about..." Ash spoke under her breath and opened one eye to the clouds above, "Maybe." considering conditions ahead always brought benefits.
The scene trucks out from the view of Ash and her Nissan to see one under a dozen other cars all parked on the nature strip. All the other drivers were already in their tuners and muscle and ready to rip; one of them pulled down a window and leaned out, Italian, "C'mon Bella! Let's see how flexible you are and quit keeping us wait!" he jested. As much as it might have appeared she was preparing for the race ahead, through meditation or whatever you wanted to call it, Ash was making them all sweat. The longer they waited, the more time they had to think about what happened after the hat dropped, and the more they thought of how it could all go wrong.
The webbing between Ash's thumb and index finger rubbed up and down the door handle of the Nissan Z, her eyes closed again, "Permission to enter?" she asked, eyebrow raised and head cocked slightly. A moment’s notice and she opened the door, sitting in the driver’s seat, hands bracing the steering wheel. Further down the road, behind the cars, an extremely saucy looking femme fatale strode to the head of the starting position, 'Stupid shorts... stupid model walk...-' Ash averted her eyes and thought back to the race before having her mind cover anything else.
Once the femme fatale reached the head, all of the racers fired up their vehicles and moved into their starting position. Your position was determined by 'when' you showed up, first place was too ambitious, last was too relaxed. Ash picked a cozy little piece in fourth position; not too lazy, not too ambitious. All of the tuners around her snapped; the muscle roaring and, generally, overwhelming the tuners. Ash just let Faith purr.
She'd bite when she wanted to.
The hat went up, some Fedora/Avenger breed with its rim curled in all round, just another bit of the femme's outfit that looked stup--
"F*ck!" Ash had done it again, and this time she paid for it. Everyone was moving except for her and immediately the racer behind her was moving out from their position, "Parry..." Ash whispered, reached bite point with the clutch and punched the gas. Faith moved to the left in tandem with the driver behind her to block them off before shooting ahead.
The start was something that would be a killer in the beginning though, Ash knew this off by heart. Things started on the straight, and everyone with the power passes her; that said, all of the muscle moved around from behind. One, a Pontiac GTO (re-launch), went onto the nature strip just to get around one stupid sprinter and shot ahead of the crowd. Ash smiled; they had to get ahead early or they'd be shot in the corners, and whether any of the muscle drivers comprehended the snake coming up was over Ash's head.
Covering one curve, Ash pulled around another racing; paint coming that close to initiating old barter-
-and ahead of them sat the veil, Ash knew it'd be there. The storm that was brewing. A wall of rain slammed into the group, windscreen wipers came on, several sprinters went further ahead of the group; Ash looked over each car, a analogue ticker sitting over each as to how long they'd last going on in her brain. Granted once they went out of sight they were out of mind, it was fighting in the group Ash was in that took importance.
Faith moved if she was threatened, and further behind her a crunching sound reported. Glancing in the rear view mirror showed a tuner slowing down, forward half compartment slightly crushed and a lightly damaged muscle pulling away from it. Ash turned her attention back to the road, they were coming up to the bends; this was where things got interesting. Faith gracefully accepted Ash's commands and glided through the rain slick pine parade-
Ash panicked, turning the bend revealed the spin out one of the tuners were locked in, and they had the whole road covered. She knew this would happen, but hoped upon hope it would occur behind her.
Ash braced, leaning Faith left and right getting ready to choose which side she'd have to pull around. Closer and closer, rain skipping up from the spinout----
Ash's eyes shot open, she went to sit up in the same instance except for the weight holding her down. She held a hand to her head before lying back down, "Ch..." she reported, not necessarily an entrance to a word but a sound of protest to the pain, "...god," she rubbed her eyes, 'How long have I been out...?' she wondered like it mattered, then realized she didn't care after spotting the Chevvy in the corner of her eye; unwelcoming aura. Ash breathed out, looking around to make sure she was alone, "We can either get along or you can keep up that attitude," she moaned. Didn't matter.
Ashleigh sat up, legs dangling from the table she'd been placed on, 'Can ya believe it... actually rely on complete strangers to keep you in one piece... Speaking of that,' Ash looked about again to see where her rescuers had taken off to, "Whatever..." Ash retorted to being concerned about them, they were probably just doing something that would further keep her alive.
The table was pretty comfy for what had just happened, Ash laid back down and closed her eyes; seemed she'd woken from her rest prematurely, falling asleep again was easy.
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Isaac
Survivalist
Posts: 70
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Post by Isaac on Feb 23, 2010 19:19:49 GMT -5
This girl was lucky, a wound like that gone untreated was deadly. The blood loss was more than minimal, likely she has a concussion. Without the proper cleaning and bandaging it was likely she would have succumb to an infection and died within a few weeks. Of course, in this world a few weeks was a lifetime. When your surrounded by death and chaos all the time, time is precious.
His hands were covered in blood now, the crimson color beginning to stick to him. He was lucky that the blood wasn't his. What would have happened if it was? He'd probably have uneducated people practicing their medical skills on his head. Of course the chance of surviving that would be better than having no one working on it at all.
He watched the girls body ease down onto the table, resting for god knows how long. Isaac planned to stay at least until she was healthy again. His mission was to save lives and eliminate threats. So far he'd followed it to the letter. He hadn't spoke to superiors in quite some time. His PDA hadn't been able to get a steady satellite uplink.
The dishes in space moved more frequently, some moving out of orbit because their controlling stations were disbanded. Communication outside of physically talking was rare these days. All land lines were town, almost every single cell tower had been destroyed. His attention turned toward the man washing his hands, a good idea.
He followed suit, switching on another faucet. His hands cleared of the blood quickly, turning the spout off and reaching for a small towel in one of his many pockets. He dried his hands, the towel had become grayed over time. It had been washed but stains still filled its area.
He waved his hand as Thomas offered him some water. "I'm fine." He didn't dislike this man, but he didn't seem too smart. Gluggling down so much water when, physically, little had been done. You don't need that much water in such a short time. Its use would be wasted. Isaac drank his water in small increments, using its precious supply sparingly. He had a near full canteen on him, it could contain a surprising amount of water.
"I'm going to seal this place up." Isaac checked all the garage doors, firmly locked. It had more windows than he liked, nothing he could really do about it either. There wasn't any way to seal them, not now. At least breaking glass was a great way to signal that someone had entered the building. They each had locks as well, which remained so.
He pulled his pistol out, his M4 still slung on his back. Who knew what was lurking in here, but a Baretta would handle the small space much better. He pivoted on his heel as he peeked into each room, clearing all the small spaces he found. The most dangerous zombie was the one hiding in your hideout. He had already refilled his clips, ensuring his ammo count was back to full.
The down stairs was clear, the upstairs was what he worried. That was where the rooming area would be. Most likely place for them to still be hiding, locked in by their friends. He slowly made his way up the stairs, counting how many there were in case he needed to run back down. He was at one end of a hallway, several room, all but one were closed. He flicked on the flashlight at the end of his pistol.
Isaac slowly opened the door, listening for the signature shuffle of the dead. His eyes focused on the room, small, no places to hide. If there was one in a room, it would be in plain sight. He closed it behind him, moving to each room and clearing each. He moved a little quicker, finishing the building and returning downstairs.
"All clear." He spoke, more to himself than anyone else. He returned to the garage, everyone still in their place. Little movement had been made by anyone. "My name is Isaac. What's yours?"
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Feb 23, 2010 22:27:26 GMT -5
/./It may have been that others saw Thomas as... Well... Not so bright. But in reality, Thomas had not had a chance to properly hydrate himself in the last six hours he had been driving. His mind was too far occupied with locating a solid survivable structure to consider his daily water intake. Other factors, including flushing his now dissipated adrenal circulatory system, and a higher-than-normal metabolism, affected his water and nutrition processing. As luck would have it, his Camaro held more than enough water to sustain him for few weeks, if properly rationed. The other survivor had copied Thomas, washing his hands in another sink. His extension of an assumed commodity, and the declining therein, concerned Thomas. Was the water not contaminated as he had previously hypothesized? He took a risk as it was, coming into contact with the sullied and often granted resource. But was this risk not at great as he had though?/./
"Alright, man. Dunno how long you can survive without water, but when you go all Atacama, there's some in the backseat. Doors are unlocked."
/./There was truly no reason to keep the doors locked. The tech was all but useless to anyone except for Thomas, due to the home-brew Linux OS and lockout precautions, Metal Wave being unstealable, as an aftermarket clutch lock kept her from moving away from neutral without the electrosensitive key which Thomas kept close, and the only weapons Thomas owned were useless to others... Gungnir was too heavy and unwieldy for anyone without experience to use, and the Charles Daly was unloaded; Thomas kept the shells on his person for use on another weapon in the case of a type six escape, and to keep the weight on his shoulders and waist, instead of on the gun. Other factors played in as well, but they're nothing to write home about.
During Issac's security sweep upstairs, Thomas snuck around the hopefully vacant first floor. A noteworthy fact about this particular Fire and Rescue were the windows. While yes, they were of a larger variety than Issac or Thomas were comfortable with, they were also in isolatable areas. Downtime lobbies, break stations, and a somewhat ransacked kitchen all possessed windows. Thomas made the effort to ensure each door leading into rooms with windows were closed. he considered locking them from the inside, but they may need to access those rooms later. Leave them unlocked.
No supplies worth scavving for. Perhaps in the bay, there would be a fire axe, but that would probably be it..././
"Oh, and maybe some of those medkits I saw that dude using, if there are enough..."
/./An unspoken rule in scavving and gathering Thomas held was the same rule that applied to Mountain Dew Voltage. If there are enough, stock the f**k up. If there are only four left, take two, leave two. Someone else needed them too. The same applied here. Thomas only had so much medical supplies. Some, he would hope, he could barter away for ammo or other hardware. Scavved cellphones, chargers, anything he would need.
Through the empty halls Thomas strode, victorious in securing the first floor, spear in hand, still at the ready in case something came through the ceiling or something... Not much to report when he got back to the engine bay. With a perimeter established, and the upstairs hopefully free of Zacks, the Colorado Native could focus on more pressing matters. Namely, the exuberant amount of crimson coating his seats. Mentally, he cataloged all of the parts he needed for Metal Wave to be at %100 again. New passenger bucketseat. New rear fender, passenger taillight. New driver headlamp. the smaller stuff could wait until later. But she was in no shape to be driving around at night. Keeping the brights on attracted too much attention. For the moment, he darted across the station to the adjacent bathroom in bay, grabbing a few rolls of toilet paper and paper towels. Wasted resources: Yes. But the smell of the bleeding survivor's life stuck in his passenger seat would undoubtedly ring a dinner bell when outside. He took small trips, gathering as much of the blood as he could in the toilet paper, and took it back to the bathroom, stuffing it into the toilets. Systematically, he selected toilets to flush the furthest away from the 4" main, and proceeded closer, pushing the bulk along the 2". This ensured the entire bulk of toiler paper would flush clean, and all at once. The odd part, was how much blood he was able to free from his seats. If he had the time, he would bleach it, but he hadn't the tools or the time to rip the seat out, drag it away from the survivors as to not choke them out, and proceed. It would stay.
The rest of this downtime was spent rearranging his supplies. The front seat was not an option. Everything went in the back, and anything not completely necessary for on-the-road survival was thrown in the trunk. More weight on the rear tires. He had barely begun to rearrange everything before Issac returned from a presumably clean upstairs././
"Huh? Oh, Thomas. Thomas Belmont. Shorten that however you like. Nice to meetcha."
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Feb 24, 2010 2:57:16 GMT -5
"Isaac."
"Thomas. Thomas Belmont."
A hand raised to the ceiling, "Ash," the girl reported, still a little under the weather, "Cheers for the rescue," she added and started swinging her legs from the work bench, hands clasping the edge from her sitting position. She'd woken in time to hear that the building was clear, "And, ah, thanks for the patch up," she continued.
Ash tugged the band out of her hair letting it fall down her neck and drape her shoulders. She noticed the Thomas guy holding a scrunched up lot of red, waterlogged paper, soaking up the stuff from the Chevvy's passenger seat. Ash blushed, "Sorry 'bout that..." she appologised, probably didn't sound that genuine but it was the best she'd muster.
So the Chevvy owner was who picked her up in the first place, the other dude in the room looked like a soldier; some jarhead, outfitted as if he were on a mission; must have been the guy Thomas was talking to outside in the scramble, 'Have to keep an eye on him,' Ash thought considering her criminal background; out of the two the jarhead was more likely to have the medical knowledge, considering the metalhead look more like he'd kill someone in CPR, so in summary it didn't appear the soldier had any prejudice. Maybe a search and rescue mission?
Ash pushed herself off the table, a sudden winded feeling taking her over and pushing her back against the table; she put a hand to her head, 'Overestimating you strength...' she used one hand to guide her balance, leaning against the bench and walls, 'Take it slowly,' Ash made her way over to the Chevvy and procured her revolvers and backpack; returned to the bench, threw her backpack down, holstered the sidewinders. The effort. Having zero strength was an annoying feeling.
There was a knock at the garage doors now and again from your random carrier; Ash tried to get barings, moving into the primary hallway. Place was clear so there was no huge concern moving about freely. She aimed as best she could for the staircase leading to the second level and climbed, found the nearest doorway and crossed the room to the windows. She chanced a glance outside, looking down in the yard and across the street. Nothing. Ash went back out into the hallway and strolled to the other end, entering another room and peeked out the window.
There she was. A street down but visible. The lifeless shell of her car. Ash rested her head on her hands and paid her respects; final remnants of light vanishing; she'd go back out there after daybreak and pick up the rest of her supplies.
Ash returned downstairs, still dazed and drowsy. Seemed she was only that way when she was moving a lot though, once she sat down she was alright. Ash fumbled with her backpack and pulled out a packet of instant noodles, tearing the packet open and snapping a piece off, digging into it raw; she wasn't in the mood to cook anything properly. Ash slumped in her chair and rested her head against the edge of the table.
Ash flicked an itch in her nose, licked her lips and commenced small talk, "So what brings you two.. knights in shining armor, to the Arklay's?" a conversation would help her from nodding off, granted they both looked like unusual people which backed the idea that they wouldn't bore her to sleep, 'Here's hoping to that assumption,' she mused while chowing down on another piece of raw noodle.
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Post by otaku999 on Feb 24, 2010 19:42:00 GMT -5
(I have absolutely no excuse for my posts being so short other than I am lazy and unfun.)
"Jesus! Don't run into a room like that. You'll get yourself killed."
"S-sorry." Natalie mumbled, leaning away from the gun. She had just been so relieved to see other people, she hadn't really thought...
Idiot. Another dumbass move like that and you're dead. She sighed, shaking her head.
Natalie stood off to the side, watching the two men patch up the injured woman. Jesus, Nat, you could have at least raided a gun store or something! She shook her head at her own stupidity, noticing their guns. She still only had a pipe, though it had been working alright so far.
"Um..." She spoke up shortly after the other woman regained consciousness. "Can I, uh, do anything to help?"
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Isaac
Survivalist
Posts: 70
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Post by Isaac on Feb 25, 2010 19:30:05 GMT -5
He had begun to notice just how uncomfortable he was, physically. He hadn't showered in who knows how a long, a thing he could do regularly at base despite the infestation that ravaged the world. It was clear running water was in this build, but he didn't feel safe. His weapons and clothes were also beginning to wear him down.
Despite it being flesh eaters, he still wore a bullet proof vest. Occasionally enemies were human and usually then had guns. He had lightened his load significantly since he left base, opting out for smaller and less effective night-vision goggles. He dearly wanted to strip down to nothing more than pants and a shirt. However, he knew the risks that carried. Doing that would strip him of his weapons, tools, and protection.
Isaac sat on the nearby table, sighing and rubbing his head. His hair had overgrown its comfortable length. He preferred a much shorter cut, but he didn't feel the need to bring an electric clipper with him. Of course it was likely he could find one here, firemen always stayed in these buildings. It was sure to have an abundance of many valuable items.
"I'll stick with Tom, much easier." He was short of words at the moment, thoughts were moving through his mind. His mission was to bring saviors to a safe area, bring them to an LZ to pick them up. He couldn't reach anyone to do that, he had no plan as of now. Isaac didn't like not having a plan, a clear mission he could follow. For now it seemed all he could do is protect these people and maybe find some more.
His eyes drew to the girl as she spoke and sat up. "No problem, take it slow. You might have a concussion." He watched her disregard him and move up stairs, maybe to sleep on a more comfortable bed. He wasn't sure, nor was he going to stop her. The building was clear, nothing to worry about until the crash of a window was made.
However, she managed to come back down and into the room, a good sign she was doing rather fine. "I was dropped in with two other members of my squad. We lost contact with our superiors some time ago and shortly after things grew....chaotic. We got separated." He dreaded the thought of losing his friends, his brothers. Completely unsure if they had succumbed to the plague or were doing as he is.
"I'm here to find survivors and get them out, however, I can't do that anymore. Now I'm just traveling throughout the city to protect and help survivors that need it." His help would go especially to anyone that had to credentials to produce a cure. Of course, he had yet to meet anyone that even wanted to try and make it to an Umbrella lab. Those things were mostly taboo to survivors, unwilling to go to where the outbreak started.
Isaac looked at the girl that almost got herself killed. It annoyed him but it was obvious she wasn't trained for anything, a mere pipe with her. "As of right now, not really. However, I think we should gather what useful supplies we can in this building and take a tally of what we have. I don't know if we intend to stay here but knowing what we have on hand is an advantage. And don't steal things for yourself. Everyone needs help out here."
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Feb 26, 2010 15:58:22 GMT -5
/./White Knight? Lies././
"Well, this makes the most sense. Raccoon survived the first outbreak. If the world was covered in ten feet of snow, you come to Colorado; we're always prepared for it. Wanna survive a Zack Attack? Come to Raccoon."
/./It was an excuse././
"I couldn't stay home as it was. Too heavily populated, narrow streets. All I could see in my head were piles of dead bodies blocking the road. My old house was improperly fortified to defend against the dead. So I took to the road."
/./That was true. It was a relief to see his once incapacitated passenger moving and conscious, but he could have easily done without watching her eat raw Ramen././
"I agree with Issac. I've got a s***-ton of supplies in Metal Wave there, and I intend to take some from here too. I lack any heavy medical supplies; I only have crap for gashes and scrapes. If I were dealing with burns or s***, I'd be f**ked."
/./The informal situation did not require proper etiquette, but Thomas' cursing could have been a little less... forward././
"If I can, I'd like to take a fireaxe too. Gungnir can handle bodies, but she's not so good at busting down doors."
/./He began to get ahead of himself. One step at a time././
"Like I said though, I agree with ya, Issac. Once we have established all of the available and useful supplies that we can access, we can properly plan an escape, or lock the place up. If I can help it, I'd like to leave within the week. Not sure if we have that kinda time, though..."
/./The occasional dead hand beating on the garage bay doors was a grim reminder: between a lifeless existence, preying on modern society, and civilized survivability, scraping by with what was available was a single steel roll-up, an inch thick. It had a way of putting perspective on the situation././
"Then again, what can we do? At this point, we're surviving. It's not as if we have work in the morning."
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Feb 27, 2010 11:41:51 GMT -5
"Can I, uh, do anything to help?"
Ashleigh put one casual index finger into the air, downing the last dry piece of mi instan before speaking, "Give the firetruck a run down, open every shutter and pull out anything that isn't bolted in," she said, it would keep the girl occupied... girl; Ash squinted in thought, "... ahh, Sara... no, wait... um, I didn't quite catch your name before," Ash followed up. As a matter of fact, she hadn't really noticed her; was she there before Ash went unconcious?
A scratch to the head, which Ash then regretted discovering the cliched body language of 'confusion' wasn't such a great idea when you had a splitting wound in said area. She hopped off the table, Isaac's proposal of gathering supplies sounded like an excellent idea to keep herself occupied. With the girl digging through the fire truck, that pretty much covered the garage. Ash decided to head out and check one of the other areas of the station.
Kitchen.
Being a rescue and aid service it was likely the place held rations for people trapped in the Arklay's, rations that lasted a long time for those long hauls if air support wasn't possible. Granted the Circular River Community looked pretty isolated, odds were in her favor. She stepped into the mess and looked about, some of the tables were laden with random objects and rotten food but the place remained relatively clear. Ash shuffled across to the kitchen; opening the flapping door and pushing a chair in place to keep it from closing, she started running through dry and cold storage.
She was right, opening the first cold storage proved Ash that there were plenty of long lasting perishables. Some of the food was fargone, but it was the primary meals for firefighters staying up over night; a warm chowdown to keep them going, stuff wasn't meant to last overnight compared to the rations.
Ashleigh stepped back into the eating hall briefly, spotted a duffle she'd noticed open entrance and grabbed it. Ash went back to the coolers and dry storage and started pushing anything that had one month or longer into the bag. Moved onto the cupboards; most of the stuff were eating cuttlery and plates, a toaster...
Ash snatched a flashlight though, good stuff. She hopped off of the bench and started rummaging through the floor cupboards; pipes and cleaning detergent, air freshners--
Ash came to one of the final cupboards, opening it; her intial reaction was going to be 'woo, more useless stuff' but switched in half a second to concern. Concern for her own life. She pushed away from the open cupboard and scrambled to the other side of the kitchen all the while staring at the black hole in the cornice, it sort of covered the back wall of the cupboard and a little bit of the floor; but it was all dark, and all creepy
Ash picked herself up, but still keeping to a half crouch; she moved one step towards the hole. the surrounding wall in the cupboard was blackened; it didn't look like it was burned, some other means had been used to create it. Ash noted supidity, and flicked the flashlight on. The hole went in a ways but she could just see a back wall in the dim light. It went downwards on a slope, the back wall was completely dirt. With the flashlight now on Ashleigh spotted a little green lining the hole; grabbing a spatula from the draw next to her she held it to the goo. Straight away the tip of the spatula melted.
A silhouette scampered across the dim light in the back wall; Ash froze, then unfroze dropping the spatula and kicking both cupboard doors shut. Standing up. Drawing one of her sidewinders. Aiming directly at where the hole was.
A couple of minutes passed, Ashleighs heart rate didn't change though. One minute more and she flicked off the flashlight and marched out of the kitchen. If her heart rate wasn't going to derease simply by waiting, it meant she had to do something about it instead. Reentering the garage Ash looked about the place, her mind ticking 'No, no, no, no, no, no,' at the items she observed.
Her gaze finally rested on the firetruck; seeing as it remained in her view for longer than ten seconds meant Ash had an idea. She visited a vacant work bench, pulling open tool draws looking for a flathead screwdriver and high maintenance nail gun. Once both were located she strode back over to the firetruck.
Ash rattled one of the shutters on the firetruck, nodded while tucking her sidewinder under her left armpit, and started unscrewing the shafts holding it in place either side. As the same time Ash took the opportunity of the drawn out meanial task to explain to everyone in the room what she had discovered. Both shafts were eventually loosened, a dozen screws on the floor; Ash jammed the screw driver behind a shaft and the wall of the firetruck yanking it off the rivet joints, same for the other side. In conclusion, the shafts fell free and the metal shutter was acquired. Ash dropped the screwdriver and primed the nail gun, heading back out of the garage.
Her heartrate had started dropping, doing stuff made Ash calm a little. She went back to holding her revolver infront of her body keeping it aimed into the mess and while moving back into the kitchen. Her heartrate returned to how it was before. The cupboard where the whole is had been opened; well, half opened, but that didn't change a thing.
Ash crouched again, putting down everything except for the flashlight and her revolver. Eventually putting down the flashlight aswell.
What could she do? Sit and wait for 'it' to come out? investigate the cupboard again? Unload on the half opened cupboard door.
Ash grunted, the amount of times the word 'cupboard' had gone through her head were starting to irritate her.
She shifted her weight onto one knee, her decision made. Ash put down the flashlight while still keeping her sidewinder trained on the opening and flat palmed the floor twice. Straight away there was a scamper, the door swinging ever so slightly...
... That was all Ashleigh needed though, straight up she started unloading her revolver into the cupboard. Rounds blasting and smoke and wooden residue flying up into the air. The barrage continued as Ash switched to her second revolver just as the other started running dry and continue firing shot after shot.
Eventually the entire cupboard door had collapsed and the bench above it had snapped. Ashleigh didn't wait for anything to settle, she busily went to work on reloading; moon clips clicking, pins back in place and hammers snapped back; just in time for the air to clear.
The space under the bench was clear, asides from the splinters; the hole was still there unfortunately. Ash still wouldn't wait; as far as she was concerned whatever had made the noise had gone back into its little hole and the kitchen was clear. She picked herself up, plus the metal shutter from the firetruck, plus the nailgun, and keeping one revolver facing the hole. As soon as she was close enough she threw the shutter at the brick wall, angled at the cornice so its own weight held it up a little before falling back down, only Ashleighs foot was up and pushing it firmly against the wall before it had a chance to fall open. Then the nail gun was up against all four corners; huge thick nails speared through the metal and brick, each shot Ash felt its use deteriorate until after the seventh nail it finally coughed it. The nail was only half way in too, but Ash was satisfied.
No, that wasn't true. The green residue around the hole had definitely been acid, and it would just as quickly burn through metal as it had brick. Maybe there was a waiting time though, maybe whatever had gone through the brick had taken hours to complete its task? Ash still had to come up with some kind of contingency or alarm. She scrambled to an adjacent cupboard and grabbed a couple of cans of bug spray plus the resident role of tape; she taped both cans to the metal shutter. The idea was that if the acid came through it would have to each through the cans aswell, setting them off with a pop to let the survivors know the other-other intruders had returned.
"I really wish I had a bear trap right now," Ash moaned while wiping sweat from her brow, "What should've been a bloody safe haven is still a potential death trap. It's almost heart warming to know I won't be getting any sleep tonight," with that Ash snatched the duffle bag full of food and dragged it into the garage, closing the kitchen door behind herself, "We definitely have a pest problem, everyone. On the bright side, bag full of food for a load up, stuff would last us a couple a hundred miles out of a heated discussion," a 'heated discussion' being an 'infected hotzone', "Kitchen is off limits, moment you find anything resembling what I saw let everyone know,"
Ash ran a hand through her hair, holstering her revolvers and setting the flashlight lamp side down, "Gotta keep on my feet, gotta stay alive," Ash looked at her hands, "Should I be weirded out that I can still remember what the hypotension felt like?" it was still fresh in her mind, and now that she was calm it was taking the centre of attention; it was a scary feeling.
A soothing wave embraced Ash, warm arms wrapping around her. She looked over to the fire truck, 'Someone I can relate to,' Ash walked over to the red beast, holding back for a couple of seconds before opening the cabin and climbing inside, hands on the steering wheel, "Trying to tell me something?..." she asked candidly.
Ash's view drifted over the fuel indicator. It was a full tank. A glance at the ignition. Keys were in place. She smirked at her negative attitude, her way out was marked loud and clear.
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Isaac
Survivalist
Posts: 70
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Post by Isaac on Mar 5, 2010 18:01:58 GMT -5
OOC: Okay, I'm really busy right now with research papers and stuff like that. I will be for a bit longer. So, feel free to continually skip me until I can get active which shouldn't be more than a few weeks. Also, go ahead and bunny my guy minorly, just to move through things faster. Though, I give no permission to injury or death of my character. Hopefully I'll be back to posting soon.
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Post by RabidMaggot93 on Mar 6, 2010 5:49:25 GMT -5
((Is it okay if i join? ) Prey had been rather scarce latley in and around Raccoon city - or rather, Ambrose had simply not been searching in the right area. Several people where holed up in a Fire-station and he knew they'd try to escape. Ambrose couldn't let that happen - not with prey so close. He was currently crouched in the garden that flanked the house oppisite, growling ever so softly to himself. The cerebrus beside him where starting to get restless. With a soft growl one of them bolted across the road and hid in the bushes to the left of the building He growled again and the second lay still with a whine, and with a third sharp growl the last Cerebrus sprinted foward with a bark, attempting to distract atleast one of the humans or get them to come out but would not - he hoped - attack them. Ambrose himself lay pefectly still, waiting for the moment to strike, lips curled back over stained teeth. The plan was simple. With luck the driver would get out to deal with the dog and the one to the left would attack him when he got out and possibly kill him if it was lucky. If anymore came, Ambrose and the second Cerebrus woud be waiting. If things went bad he would flee and attack again - it was not worth his death, the B.O.W was smart enough to know this.
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Mar 6, 2010 21:01:28 GMT -5
[Easily the shortest post I've had the dismay to deliver. ._. Here ya go.]
"We have a wha'?"
/./The very short-lived downtime led Thomas to instinctively hit the net. Or try to.
Ash walking back into the main bay snapped Thomas' sight back to the real world. Metal Wave's driver door was popped open, Thomas sitting mostly in the bucket seat, left leg lazily hanging from the sidepanel. His Windows 7-inspired Linux chugging along through the possible, and viable, wireless links in the immediate area continued to prove fruitless. Worse, he couldn't find a wired port or modem in the five seconds he took to scan over the halls. Wireless was superior; he would try this first.
Ash' comment didn't register until Thomas stopped thinking in hexadecimal, and translated the message in English././
"What are we talking, mice, or those things with like, the tongue?"
/./Illustrating his remark, Thomas aligned his right arm towards the passenger window, at Ash, wiggling it back and forth as the Licker he had encountered did, imitating the strange hissing sound it had attempted to intimidate Thomas with.
Food, Thomas didn't need immediately. Tupperware, now that would be useful. All of the cans and bags of food Thomas had in the trunk would last him a good while. It was preserving them once open that would become an issue. If asked for any of the found rations, Thomas would pass politely.
Notably, Ash began to dream and drool over the 2009 Pierce Walk-In Rescue Vehicle. It's sheer size defines a zombie plow, and low gas mileage. Stops would be frequent, but a few modifications here and there could mean a veritable tank, with Metal Wave being the side-runner. It was crazy enough to work././
"You're uh. Serious. Do you even know how to run one of those?"
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 6, 2010 23:56:41 GMT -5
---"What are we talking, mice, or those things with like, the tongue?"
The query pressed across the room, Ashleigh hopped over onto the passenger side of the seat in the truck and wound down the window. Even after doing so she had to consider her answer for a moment, "I didn't get a very good look at it, but it's about ten times the size of a rat; and I'll pretend that it'd be as lethal as a Licker," she tugged on the left corner of her mouth, "Just to be safe," she disappeared back inside the cabin and started a run down of things, it'd been a while since she'd driven anything classed as Heavy Rigid; she didn't begin to think of how different it'd feel to a sprint, "Whatever it is, it's got a mean amount of bite to its spit. Acid-er, whatever it is, burned straight through a brick wall in the kitchen. I've patched it but there's no knowing whether there are other holes around the place," Ash rubbed her chin, "If there are they'd be at floor level; none would be upstairs," then leaned out the passenger side window again, "Granted, I don't really want to stick around here for very long,"
There was a moment where Ashleigh eased off leaning out of the passenger side window when roaring barks were reported outside of the garage doors. Furious, and that was only one dog, "Doesn't sound like the friendly type," Ash clicked open the cabin door and hopped out, cautiosly moving towards the metal door. The dog... or Hellhound as Ashleigh felt the title fit better, was directly outside and still going off. Ash started crouching down and eventually went on all fours herself, lowering her head to the very bottom of the door. She listened for a second, "Won't stop barking," she whispered to herself and, for a brief moment, held her nose to the hair line crack and sniffed.
Reek, "Decomposed..." Ashleigh stood up and dusted herself off, "This night keeps getting better; totalled car, creepy acid spitting giant rats, undead dogs, and now this massive headache..." Ash's eyes widened, she lifted up her right foot and smacked the heel of it against the metal door, "F*ck off!" she waited a moment to see whether or not it would have any effect. Slowly the barking lessened and eventually stopped, "Smart dog..." she whispered again while still putting all her effort into hearing what was on the other side.
"Hokay," Ash breathed and walked back to the truck, snatching the bag of food at the same time and opened up the rear. She threw it down onto a vacant seat, 'Decent amount of room in the back here...'
---"You're uh. Serious. Do you even know how to run one of those?"
Ash backpedalled, leaned out from the back door and looked over to Thomas, "I can drive anything," she left it as blunt as possible, as far as any of the other survivors in this safe house should be concerned they were in perfectly capable hands. Ashleigh scratched her head, what route would they take out of the Community though? Ash wanted to get back to Raccoon City, but whether any of these guys had the same concept was beyond her. She could be walking if they had a difference of opinion. The airport was the only viable air spot for a pickup though unless there were smaller air strips anywhere else in or around the Arklays.
Two of these three people were surviving, one had orders, and Ash had her own plans. Herself, Isaac and the girl would need to take the truck to get out of the Community alive. Ash rubbed her eyes and shook her head lightly while stepping out of the fire engine again, "So, what's everyones plans?" she asked once they were all in view... except for one. Ashleigh walked over to the Chevvy, peering inside; one eyebrow raised when she noticed the laptop, "Reckon you could get Google maps on that thing?" Ash asked, assuming it's purposes were for more than watching movies and playing games. It'd help them plot a way out.
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Post by RabidMaggot93 on Mar 7, 2010 4:53:41 GMT -5
The third Cerebrus growled but quited down, padding away into the bush to join the second that was patiently lying there, reading to spring when the doors opened. They could do that of there own accord as instinct, but they probably wouldn't be able to easily break the glass without proper footing - at the least, Ambrose could because of his superior strentgh.
Ambrose growled softly to himself. He'd tried to gain entry to one of the big metal beasts before but found the only effective way was through the glass - and though he could easily break through it, he'd risk being shot at.
He settled for simply lying still for the moment, utterly silent. His hunting instincts where kicking in now - and he knew that he'd only have one shot to make this work. When the garage door opened he'd send the two Cerebrus inside under the half open door to try and stall them, which would give Ambrose and the third hound time to get in aswell - and in the confined space he'd have a better chance.
He licked his lips as the Cerebrus beside him panted, eyes still locked on the door. Ambrose paused and quickly padded across the road and hid around the side of the garage where it met the bushes. They would smell something no doubt but they wouldn't expect him to come from this angle.
So the hellhounds lay in wait for the door to open as quietly as they could.
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Isaac
Survivalist
Posts: 70
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Post by Isaac on Mar 7, 2010 18:19:52 GMT -5
Isaac listened intently to the conversation. As usual, lives were on the line, his calling to protection was immediate. He was the only trained killer in the room, though it looked like things could easily be handled in this group. The skills were diverse, sticking together until they reached a protected area would be beneficial to all parties. His calculated mind kicked in, working on how long it would take to ransack the place and figure out a plan. They didn't have long, zombies smacking against the door was becoming more frequent. They certainly wouldn't be able to hold out for more than a few weeks. More than a few days was too much for him anyways.
He nodded as everyone broke apart to search, his immediate attention was drawn to the firetruck. Med-kits would likely be common inside the compartments. He was also hoping for another little trick of the truck, he wasn't sure if he would find it though. Isaac quickly worked through the compartments, pulling out three more aid kits. He opened each one, inspecting all the items inside of it. They were lucky, each were full.
Inside contained several strips of gauze, bandages, and cloth roles. For medication it had several vitamins, a single bottle of some numbing agent as well as a syringe to go with it. And finally, a single shot of epinephrine, just in case nothing went right. They were good kits. He shut them and neatly stacked them along side the one used earlier, setting it on the table.
He rummaged through more of the truck, smiling at what he had found. There was a large tank inside of the truck. He unscrewed the cap and attempted to look down the hole. It wasn't the gas tank, that was further back. As he suspected the fire truck had its own water tank inside of the truck. He knocked on it, it was completely full. Isaac figured a truck like this would have one, fire hydrants were obviously few in this area. Each truck would need its own water supply and a way to propel it.
He laughed, shutting the tank just as Ash came over and started unscrewing a shutter. "Bit of remodeling?" He moved to the cab of the truck and inside of it. He looked around at front, there were several controls. One of them indicated water pressure. He flipped it on, the engine would have to be started for the water to work. Testing the engine was a waste of gas, even if only a little. he flipped it off, climbing outside again.
He was about to check another room for items when several shots rang through the building. He brought his M4 up and made quick steps to the kitchen just in time to see Ash walking back. Before he could ask what it was, she explained some acid spitting rodent living in the building. Just another thing to add to the problems of this destroyed world. Danger lies in every corner.
"My plan is to stick with survivors and either get to safety or keep them safe. I'm with you guys until one of the two happens...Or I die." He looked at them both and back to the truck. "We should leave once we have gathered everything. Air ports are safe, that's our best bet. Obviously, we should take the firetruck. It's bug and bulky, but its a much safer ride."
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Mar 7, 2010 19:29:00 GMT -5
[Short poast is short. D:]
/./Plans? Plans are for those who seek death and disappointment when "plans" don't come together like they hope.././
"Don't got one. My house is gone for all I know, and I'm outta work. At this point, I'm playing it like a video game, if you'll accept the comparison. Try and stay alive until the timer runs out, so to speak."
/./He dare not comment on his desire to be in this type of situation. Ever since the Raccoon incident back in 1998, Thomas had been hopeful in a new breakout. This was where he would thrive././
"But for now, I wouldn't mind running alongside you guys. All I can do is stay alive, so I might as well do it with others."
/./Thomas' copper eyes never left the LCD screen of his Asus to lock sight with Ash. Every wireless connection was either s***, or dead. A lack of a sat-link card or My-Fi meant relying on the surrounding net. And it seemed fruitless. Ash' query concerning Google Maps pushed Thomas into a bit of a geekgasm././
"Of course I can. But I can't find a secure IP or source. I'm basejumping off of the existing short-wave on top of the station, but the frequency that I have to use in order to communicate with the tower is making net access impossible. At this point, I'm just looking for an unsecured connection. Wireless would be perfect, but if you can find a modem around here, I can jack in through the wall. And I'm sure Mr., uh, Commando over there has a PGPS or similar wireless device, but I doubt he'd let me unlock it and use it to com with the satellites. It's just frustrating..."
/./The internet is important to Thomas././
"Short answer, yes. I can get you where you need to go, or any info you need on the area, ec cetera... But the net is elusive. Unless one of you two know a high-frequency secure CC gov IP that I don't, or the trip on a DIP, we just need to wait till we can find some net, or a Best Buy, or something. If I can get my hands on a My-Fi card, or a 4G wireless, I've got infinite net until I get shut out. Till then, it's scavvy time, I guess."
/./Unless Ash and the others were used to someone who looks and acts like Thomas to be as hyper intelligent technologically as he is, they would have been taken back some. He may look the part of a simple over-garbed Goth with an IROC, but his hidden talents would prove useful in many situations. His place in the group dynamic became clear very quickly: Tech and Com. If an object required a printed chip to operate, he could bend it to his will. All of those years of experience, being cooped up in his /b/attlestation, would pay off in this long haul of survival. Hopefully.
He set his Asus aside for the time being, laying her on his driver seat as he removed himself from the IROC's aluminum hull. A quick strech of the legs, and Thomas joined in with the scav hunt. Any supplies would be useful. Most importantly, clean, potable water, and dried or canned foods. Since Ash ransacked the kitchen of what it had to offer, the scav would continue in the main bay and smaller rooms upstairs././
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