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Docks
Nov 20, 2008 0:32:18 GMT -5
Post by .Merios on Nov 20, 2008 0:32:18 GMT -5
The docks are full of used boats and capsized canoes and personal watercraft. Two football field length wooden platforms rise from the water and allow the boats to dock on the planks around it. The keys are usually within the houses themselves, along with some fuel. Though, it's unlikely you'll be able to get more than one up and running without a day's effort. As a long term escape route, this might be a possible route.. But zombies don't need to breath and are usually lying in wait underneath water- other monsters can possibly be waiting within the ships themselves so it's all up to fate. The river itself is mined, too, so there is little use for the water as a drinking source- it would be contaminated with methane and the diseased flesh of the undead underneath.
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Docks
Dec 22, 2008 20:27:28 GMT -5
Post by italianstalion86 on Dec 22, 2008 20:27:28 GMT -5
Dinario cautiously strode through the wasteland before him, still shocked about the death of his pilot. If one of those things could creep up on Vinchenzo like that...he didn't feel safe anywhere.
Moving slowly, his gun drawn, Dinario made his way away from the docks and to the edge of the city...or at least what was left of it. He had to find out where the Stillaro family would be having their meeting , but he hadn't a clue where to look first. If only he could find other survivors, maybe they would have a clue.
Dinario's aimless path was eventually shadowed by a towering stadium. A good place for a meeting? He would have to check it out, it was the only "lead" he had so far.
[Dinario leaves the docks and walks to the outside of the stadium]
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Docks
Dec 22, 2008 21:36:37 GMT -5
Post by Metal Head on Dec 22, 2008 21:36:37 GMT -5
As the USS Hawaii slowly surfaced in front of the Raccoon City docks, every exit hatch on the topside of the submarine was opened and TFP soldiers began to climb out of them. Soon the decks were partially covered with sporadically placed TFP soldiers who opened fire on zombies on the docks. By the time the sub had reached the docks, most of the zombies in the immediate surrounding area were permanently deceased, and the TFP soldiers began to flood the docks with personnel and equipment.
Officers began to bark orders to setup perimeters since we were the entry team that would be clearing the docks for the rest of the TFP. About, twenty minutes after securing the docks, I found myself walking aimlessly around the dock area, watching as TFP personnel set up a defensive perimeter.
(Jacob Ehrlichmann, the USS Hawaii, and the Transported Soldiers are now at the Docks)
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Docks
Jan 28, 2009 22:48:27 GMT -5
Post by thegunny on Jan 28, 2009 22:48:27 GMT -5
The van quietly pulled into the front of the self-storage facility after its drive from the University, slowly turning and backing up towards Terry's cab-trailer. Terry stopped and parked it for a moment. He turned and said
Someones going to have to get out and help guide me in to hook her up while I drive the Van backwards. And we probably should go check out the Storage facility manager's office and apartment so we could get some food and supplies... I don't keep food in my trailer other then some bags of beef jerky and a couple M.R.E's, but that won't be enough. And I don't keep any food whatsoever in my storage unit.
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Docks
Jan 28, 2009 23:11:07 GMT -5
Post by The Pirate Girl on Jan 28, 2009 23:11:07 GMT -5
Mirian looked up as terry announced someone would need to guide him in. As no one else had immediatly stepped up she chose to. "Umm.. i can..." she said a little unsurely. She opened up the door and hopped out, leaning back in to grab her crutches. She left her pack there and closed the door. She walked slowly around to the back of the van, making sure to look for anything that even looked like the creature that had come out at her in the library. Mirian stopped when she reached the back of the van. "You ready Terry?" she yelled hoping he heard her.
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Docks
Jan 29, 2009 4:52:43 GMT -5
Post by therisingstar on Jan 29, 2009 4:52:43 GMT -5
(BACK! I was in Thailand for five weeks... no internet access. I'll catch up and post as soon as possible).
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Docks
Jan 29, 2009 7:56:32 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Jan 29, 2009 7:56:32 GMT -5
(Dang. We got two people coming back from the dead. Welcome back.)
Mikey watched Mirian hop out of the van to help Terry with the trailer. Silently wondering why exactly they were taking the entire thing and not only a few things they would need, he rationalized that the entire thing was filled with things they would need. He sure hoped that it was worth it. Listening to Terry, he said "I'll go check the building." He said, opening the door and stepping out.
Pulling out his seven shooter and checking for the fourth time in an hour to make sure it was loaded, he started his trek to the building marked "office". Just inside of the door, he smelled something awful. Coughing once and holding a hand to his mouth, he resisted the urge to run outside and puke before venturing on. Looking around, he saw what could have been causing the smell. A huge pile of blood with a trail was right behind the counter. Walking around to find out where the trail went, he was met with a sight that again made him gag.
A zombie that was missing not only it's legs but most of it's torso was enjoying a snack inside a small stairwell. Mikey could only assume that the stairwell led to the apartment, and sighed. "Fu*king figures..." He muttered, being heard by the zombie. Slowly and clumsily, he tried to turn and crawl out toward him.
Sighing and aiming his revolver the several feet, he made an easy shot into the zombie's face. He walked foreward, and for good measure, shot the man the zombie had been eating in the back of the head. Once he got upstairs, he looked around for a bag of some kind. He found what looked like a large vinyl suitcase and grabbed it. Hauling it to the fridge, he saw that most everything was still good. Taking anything that was bottled or had an unbroken seal, he went to the cuboards and took most of the canned stuff that didnt require cooking. even if they found a way to cook something later, he was pretty sure that if they did any eating, it would be on the run.
When the suitcase was full, he sipped it up and heafted the now 50 or 60 pound pack onto his shoulder before walking to the door. Pleased to see that both of the dead zombies had remained dead, for now, he stepped over them and outside.
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Docks
Jan 29, 2009 21:12:21 GMT -5
Post by thegunny on Jan 29, 2009 21:12:21 GMT -5
Terry stuck his head out the window and yelled back
Yeah, I hear ya
The two of them worked to quickly get the trailer hitched, Terry waiting for her to get in and then Mikey before driving forward and turning towards the front-gate of the self-storage units part of the facility. Terry reached out of the window and typed in his pass code into the keypad to the vans left, and then drove through the gate as it opened, the gate then shutting behind him. The entire facility was walled/fenced, with only a front and back gate requiring pass codes as the ways in.
We'll be grabbing some extra stuff from the indoor storage unit I have... mostly clothes and mechanical junk that may be useful for long term survival, but theres also a bunch of extra ammunition and a Sporterized M1 Garand there, plus some extra supplies like gas and oil... stuff that I used to keep my van running. We might as well come from this place as well equipped as possible.
After a short drive he starts to pull over to the side towards the doors leading into the internal storage units.
(http://www.westfloridaselfstorage.net/store_photos/873/slideshow/hemet-self-storage.jpg
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Docks
Jan 29, 2009 23:24:45 GMT -5
Post by therisingstar on Jan 29, 2009 23:24:45 GMT -5
“Um, let’s see. We’ve survived yet another zombie attack. We’ve claimed our weapons. We’ve found a vehicle. We’ve had zombies chasing us; running, crawling, jumping zombies. We’ve been stopped by the police. We wasted our precious time having some sort of clichéd, pathetic, witty little interlude with the cops who had pinned us to the floor. Oh yeah, then we let some disabled girl—who can barely walk, let alone run—join our already pathetic little survivor group, so that she can die anyway, because having her with us… limits our chances of survival. But, oh wait,” Sara stopped for a second, taking in a breath, “all you two are bothering to look out for are your bedroom benefits.”
The passing events had only had Sara becoming more and more disgruntled. After her horrifying encounter with the zombies in the car park, they had managed to find their way into Terry’s van. But of course, right on the count of Chaos Theory, they had found themselves being stopped by the police; and addressed by some Italian-looking cop who looked as if he had been pulled right out of The Godfather, who had pinned them to the group and had them there whilst Mikey and Terry decided to tease him like a bunch of juveniles.
Typical. Obviously with the entire city ruined and their lives so easy to snuff out, the male population would be so susceptible to reality; so easily reformed back to their former lives, even if only for short instances. Terry, who was making a HUGE deal about being in charge, was so quick to accept Mirian, a girl who was on crutches, into the van despite all his, “we need to get out of here as quick as possible” speeches. You’d think someone in their twenties would have managed to put a cap over his hormones.
With her mobile phone broken, Sara had lost all connection to her family. Frantic questions blurred her mind every few moments—Are they alright? Are they alive?— but she was forced to put them away. It wasn’t logical to deal with them in her current state. She had to focus on herself, and Mikey, and Terry… and the cops, the zombies, the roads, the cars, the university, Mirian, Raccoon City… everything that seemed to be getting in the way.
She found herself strangely jealous and wary of Mirian, their newest addition. Maybe it was the fact that she was another female to the group… or that Terry had been so quick to help her. After all, hadn’t it been her who had approached Terry first? This is stupid, Sara thought, mentally kicking herself, we’re all in danger, the city is ruined, people are dying every second and I’m getting all jealous over this girl who I barely know.
Sara slumped down into the van, annoying the cramped feeling that played around her stomach as she did so. Her knees were grazed from being pinned down onto the floor by the stupid cops and they stung like hell. Her fingers were blistered from having to pump petrol back into the vehicle and her mind was clustered with conflicting thoughts, problems and emotions. She sighed, glaring at the other three people around her in turn and rested her head against the side of the van.
It was going to be a long night.
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Docks
Jan 30, 2009 0:45:14 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Jan 30, 2009 0:45:14 GMT -5
"You got that shotgun in there too? Because I seem to remember you promising there was a shotgun around..." Mikey said, slightly eager to get something a bit bigger than his revolver. He was out of the van yet again after depositing the case of food in the back. And all the while listening to Sara bi*ch and moan about this or that. He was sure she was just blowing off steam in her own way, but goddamn it if it wasnt annoying.
Griting his teeth so he didnt say anything and make more than a couple of people mad, he busied himself with the physical labor of helping Terry go through the junk in the van. Whatever was set aside by Terry, he hauled to the back of the van.
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Docks
Jan 30, 2009 2:42:13 GMT -5
Post by The Pirate Girl on Jan 30, 2009 2:42:13 GMT -5
Mirian sat in the van for a moment in silence as sara went off on a tangent. She was willing to give the girl the benefit of the doubt considering the situation was already pretty grim, but some of the comments were too much for Mirian to sit back and listen too. Despite the fact that there was limited room in the van, she managed to pull herself up onto her knees. Her right foot was touching something soft, but she dismissed that as a pack or bag. "Listen you... I don't know who you think you are, but I'll tell you what... You ain't all that." She knew how horribly lame her comeback was but it felt good to vent. Up until now Mirian had not actually realized how angry she was in regards to this entire situation. "I may be disabled, and its granted that with my crutches i ain't going anywhere fast. But i promise I DO move a hundred times better than you would if you were in my situation. Id love to see you do this." She was starting to breath heavily now as her anger switched from Sara to the 2 males.
"And if you two are only bringing me along for bedroom benefit, then your gonna be disapointed... as She has a better chance at getting with me than both of you" Mirian had pointed to sara, as she mentioned that last part. She wasent trying to be mean, truth was she wasent interested in guys in that way, but neither of them had anyway of knowing that. Its not like she had a stamp that said "Lesbian" on her forhead, and she doubted they would have left her even if she did. Despite how harshly she came off she wasn't mad at any of them, she was just so scared, and it seemed like this might allow her a little more control. She took a few more deep breaths a sat down again, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head n them. Her left nub hung in almost a creepy suspended way, supported by her hands.
Mikey had since began to busy himself with something in the van, probably looking for something in an attempt to keep from having an outburst similar to her own. It was in this moment of silence that she felt bad for snapping at this woman who she hadn't even known, and for assuming that sex was the only reason she was here. If things were as bad as she thought, then People needed to band together to stay alive. "I was studying to be a doctor... if anything comes up medicaly... I'm sure i can be helpful" She spoke as if she were a scolded child, almost afraid of the repercussions of her previous outburst.
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Docks
Jan 30, 2009 3:44:58 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Jan 30, 2009 3:44:58 GMT -5
Having seen that Terry was sorting through things in the storage unit and there was no need for him to haul anything to the van, he rummaged through his duffle bag until he found what he was looking for. Holding the still cold can in his left hand while rummaging through his right pocket for a cigarette. They were giving him a headache with all the shouting, and in his experience there was only one cure for a headache.
Smoke like a chimney until it went away.
He listened to the yelling, coming from each girl directed at each girl and then at the guy's. Raising his eyebrows, he looked back at them from his seat on the back bumper of the van and snickered. Lighting the cigarette with his lighter, he looked back and asked a question.
"Umm...girls? Could I ask a question without getting my eyes scratched out? When was it stated that either of you were here simply because you were women?" He asked, not getting an immediate answer. "I mean come on, havent you seen the classics? People who fu*k die, plain and simple." He said, popping open his can. He didnt see the use of telling a stupid joke at the moment, even though they were his trademark. He didnt think he was going to get a laugh out of anyone right now.
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Docks
Jan 30, 2009 17:04:18 GMT -5
Post by thegunny on Jan 30, 2009 17:04:18 GMT -5
Terry nods at Mikey
Yeah, we'll have two rifles and a shotgun by the time we leave.
Terry got to work gathering up his stuff, trying to ignore the ranting and arguing going on in the Van, and trying to be unnoticed by it, even though he was failing miserably. It was quite apparent everyone was on edge and the tension was noticeable, worst of which both Sarah and Mirian were getting into foul moods. Mankind didn't need to build nuclear bombs, because an angry woman would more then make up for it once unleashed. As Terry set aside several boxes of hunting gear/clothes/tool kits for Mikey to load into the trailer, he checked over his FN SLP Mark I shotgun and M1 Garand, along with checking his brass and reloading dies that he would be bringing along for use in the trailer's ammunition reloading equipment, elling as to be heard over the Van's engine and to be heard from within the storage unit
I haven't left any of my charges behind before, even when attacked by a hunter. I'm not about to leave anyone behind now. Me and my father left too many people to die last outbreak anyways...
Terry indeed had never left one of his charges behind during a tour or during a hunting trip, even when even while he worked there were T-virus and G-virus creatures roaming the forests and infrequently attacking tours and hunting trips. And he and his father HAD left many many people to die last time around... they'd ran away from home and stayed one step ahead of the horde in the van for all those years, and never once picked someone up or helped much anyone but themselves. Terry Parker only had his van, his clothes on his back, his firearms, his dreams which were now being smashed, and his father--- and, recently, the other 3 people with him. Terry walked out of the storage unit and handed over the shotgun to Mikey before setting the M1 Garand inside the Van on the floor, turning around and getting the last boxes that he would need as he snorted at Sarah's comment that soon Mirian chipped in on, scowling a bit more naturally.
Terry parker grumbles gruffly, a bit annoyed about what he was being accused of
"Bedroom benefits? Why would we bring THEM for something like THAT...", expecting the van to drown out his remark only for Ol-faithful to sputter and die for a moment(as its done numerous times before, the thing IS getting old...), the acoustics of the facility around them and the van making Terry Parker's remark loud enough to be heard. Terry Parker stopped dead in his tracks, a stack of card board boxes in his arms, turning his body to look past the card board boxes and stare at the girls with wide eyes, as if checking to see whether or not he should run or whether he'd even been heard, mumbling under his breath a little less gruffly but still in a rather rough-around-the-edges tone "Oh s**t...". He suddenly thought once he put the boxes in his hands back in the trailer, he should stay there. His tough-guy Caccoon melted noticeably a little as he freezes in place, waiting for the reaction of a grizzly bear that he had just shot at and shat at and missed at.
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Docks
Jan 31, 2009 7:27:46 GMT -5
Post by therisingstar on Jan 31, 2009 7:27:46 GMT -5
I thought you had to be smart to be a doctor, Sara thought to herself, eyeing Mirian critically. Not short after her own outburst, Mirian had decided to follow lead, starting a rant of her own—directing it firstly at Sara, and then at the guys. She finished off by stating that she was a doctor, causing an awkward silence to fall over the four of them.
Sara rolled her eyes and got up, following Mikey as he too left the van to gather supplies. She shivered as she stepped outside into the air that was drastically becoming cooler. The facility they were in was lined with garages, each orange—as far as she could make out—and constructed out of corrugated iron.
Sara yawned and stretched her calf muscles, enjoying the life that spilled into her legs as she stretched them. Doing the same to her arms and her neck, she clambered back inside the van, shivering appreciatively. She fished around for her G-22 and sat down, only for Mikey—smirking and smoking from the back seat—to speak up: “I mean, come on, haven’t you seen the classics, people that f**k, die… plain and simple.”
Sara glanced briefly at Mirian, then spun around to look at Mikey, “well, you see… the problem with what you’re saying is—” but she never got to finish talking, as in that moment, the van sputtered for a second and died completely, catching Terry, who was walking inside the van, lugging a few cardboard boxes, unknowingly.
“Bedroom benefits? Why would we bring THEM for something like THAT?” he was scoffing under his breath, but with the total silence surrounding them, his voice was easily picked up and the comment itself was enough for Sara to crack. “Oh s***…” he muttered, realising his mistake.
Sara leaned back against her set, making up her mind in a second. She had her options: 1) laugh sardonically at Terry and say no more, as if she was superior to him, 2) act like she hadn’t heard what he said or 3) totally let loose at him. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t catch that… could you repeat it?” she asked Terry innocently, tugging at strands of her dark hair. Terry, looking scared out of his mind, didn’t reply.
In normal circumstances, Sara would have found his expression funny, she would have forgiven him, she wouldn’t have got angry—maybe. But in their current situation, she was definitely NOT in a normal situation: to put it simply, her life was ruined for the second time and the only thing she had going for her was the gun under her seat. Oh yeah, and maybe the three people she was staying alive with, but they were going a super good job of ****ing her off and she just wasn’t in the mood.
“Okay, Terry, I heard what you said,” Sara admitted, nodding her head, “and you know what? I agree with you. Because, you know, such a handsome, strong, young… intelligent guy like you, I mean, he would get women way above someone like me and Mirian. Right, Mirian?” Sara nodded at Mirian. “Yeah, like you know, supermodels, the really hot ones who model for brands like ‘Victoria’s Secret’ and ‘Chanel’. And of course they would love you back, wouldn’t they? I mean, it’s not like you’re a skinny twenty-something who looks like he’s spent most of his life indoors, or that he’s got a crazy obsession with guns or that he’s got the social status of a mutt and the speech capacity of one too,” Sara had now begun to speak more and more rapidly, it was almost hard to catch on to what she was saying, “I mean, sure Terry still looks like he’s a teenager, and he drives around in some multi-coloured, crazy van that he claims his dad painted,” she rolled her eyes, “and he’s as hygienic as a sewage rat, I mean look at this place, I am knee-deep in junk,” Sara spat in disgust, taking in a breath at the same time, “okay, let’s cut the crap. Terry, you’re a stupid little kid and if you think you could get someone better than me, or that you’re above me, or that you’ve been in bed more times than me, or if you’ve even been in bed at all, you are seriously deluded. I mean first you’d have to sort out your complete lack of hygiene,” Sara spat, “your eyes, your face, your eyes, your nose, your body—do I have to even have to—” but then, Sara was speaking so fast, and so out of control, it was too much.
Sara burst into hysterical laughter. She knew her predicament and current situation ranked quite badly when it came to funny moments in her life, but at the moment she felt as if she was living the biggest joke to ever occur. Her throat was hoarse and it hurt, but she continued laughing and laughing and laughing, completely unaware of what the other three were thinking, saying or feeling, and it was some time later when she finally came to her senses, stopped, and realised what she had just said.
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Docks
Jan 31, 2009 13:06:33 GMT -5
Post by thegunny on Jan 31, 2009 13:06:33 GMT -5
Terry stares at Sara silently as she continues her rant, seeming to slowly become more hollow as she goes on and he starts to retreat further back into the "safety" of his "tough-guy" shell. Under other circumstances, he would have snapped defensively back at her about him looking like he spent most of his life indoors, he would have wise-cracked something about what she started saying was right but she had gotten way-off target as she kept speaking, and/or repeated what he said and move on and put the boxes up. Instead, he finally muttered under his breath as he turns towards the trailer
I had left my girlfriend behind in the last outbreak too.
Terry continues what he was doing, seeming to take on a life-less zombie appearance rivaling the abberations that they were so afraid of and trying to get away from, and walks back into his trailer to set down the three boxes inside. The trailer had been packed with plenty of stuff they would need, and his reloading equipment was still intact--- meaning no one had tried breaking into his trailer this time he parked it. Either the undead had scared em all of or criminals had finally figured it out and stopped trying to steal from him. Took em a few lives and a few to be convicted with jail sentences for word to get around...
Terry grabs his trusty browning BLR from its place in his gun-locker in the back of the trailer and turns, leaving the trailer and walking along the left side of the van in order to avoid the others and then gets up into the drivers seat, setting down his browning which oddly made him feel more comforted by the sentimental value of his BLR which had seem him through the bad-times for years and spent many a days with him in the forests of Pine-hollow, Oregon. He stared ahead past the windshield and straight at his hometown back in Oregon, his mind swimming with thoughts of his mother, father, Mercedes, Tim, and all that had happened almost half a decade ago. He quietly waited for someone to tell they were ready to go so he could fire the van up and they could get out of here. The fact that the van had died on him again seemed to have been forgotten, adding to the silence
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