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Blackbird Dreams - (Chapter 1) June 21st, 6:21 P.M. As you argue outside of the entryway, the music continues to crackle steadily in the background. Jacob was more than successful in clearing a path through the wiring, though he'll be thankful for having had the gloves, as they got torn up fairly badly in the proceedings to make said path. You can see a fair distance into the building from here--but the awful stink of the garbage bags begs of air filters or iron stomachs, and it's difficult to tolerate for long. Inside, you see most of the aisles seem to have been pretty clearly picked clean. Then Jacob proceeds back to the Taurus, and most seem to follow along, away from the building. Whilst discussing how to proceed, the music suddenly cuts off from the speakers. There is a crackle, then the high-pitched peal of feedback, before a nasally voice chimes in "Attention Wal-Mart shoppers! Would the owner of the baby-poo poo brown Ford Taurus please move their vehicle. Thank you!" After that, there is silence for a moment, before Ave Maria resumes as if nothing had happened. Previously, being so close to the lights at the tops of the posts, you hadn't noticed them--but now you realize the outside of the building, and throughout the lot, boast a matrix of small weather-shielded cameras that look practically brand new. Everyone take another 2 character points, one in part for obstacles overcome thus far, and one for some continued excellent role play. This is a real treat to run so far, and I hope you six are enjoying yourselves as well. Down to business, Jacob's forced entry skill goes off excellently to bust a path into the Wal-Mart--the question of the hour becoming, then, whether or not to proceed inside. No further transmissions seem to come from the radio since the last. Raymond has been failing a number of his necrophobia rolls, and is pretty shaken up--he will also be down another two fatigue points, as the strain on his nerves is pretty heavy. Click here for the ambient music being played over the speakers. Click here for the ambient music to be used looped in general Blackbird Dreaming post-reading when another is not more applicable.
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Jul 14, 2007 03:16
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Evan Douglas Evan leans against the Taurus, tugging at his collar in an attempt to cool down as the setting sun shines down on the parking lot. "Christ," he thinks, "How did we come to this? I wonder what things are like back in Berkeley." Thinking back to his days at school, Evan remembers his induction into the Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers, and the code of ethics he swore to uphold. He hadn't given it much thought at the time. When he'd taken the oath it essentially amounted to "Do your job without killing anyone or breaking any laws." He pondered its first tenet: IEEE posted:1. to accept responsibility in making decisions consistent with the safety, health and welfare of the public, and to disclose promptly factors that might endanger the public or the environment "If the voice on the radio is inside there, we...I have a duty to help. If I decide to leave, that's not consistent with his safety, and he's 'the public'. Of course, we're 'the public' too, and there are six of us, and there seems to be only one of him. And there are certainly factors, disclosed and undisclosed, which might endanger the public, in the form of us, if we try to mount a rescue operation. That voice on the loudspeaker didn't sound terribly welcoming..." "Let's get out of here, guys. We don't seem to be welcome, and it looks pretty barren anyway. Besides, the smell of that trash is liable to have stunk up the whole building by now, and the Taurus will be vulnerable to the rain if we have to leave it out tonight." code:Zenaida fucked around with this message at 07:15 on Jul 14, 2007 |
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Jul 14, 2007 07:12
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Markson "He... he asked for our help..." Markson begins, completely shocked at everyone deciding to just up and abandon him. But, then again he thinks, why should he be shocked? It's the same story as when I was growing up. "Sure, there's a kid being the poo poo kicked out of him not 20 feet from where I am, but I don't really know him, and those 3 kids look mean. Best to stay out of it." and "Sure, this time it looks really bad, there's blood everywhere... ah, but that kid's still there. I'm sure he'll call an ambulance or something, better not get involved." Images of every time John was bullied fly through his mind, every time he had been psychologically abused as a kid for 'not being manly enough,' every time he had asked someone for help, but it was never given, because his parents were too influential to talk about badly, or the kid who beat him up was big and mean... I've been on the wrong side of this too many times to not help him. Markson, who is shaking visibly and crying a bit at this point, "I... I really hope you'll re... reconsider... it looks like none of you have been refused even the simplest of human kindness. It's... it's happened to me too many times though.... I can't bring myself to be on the other end of that equasion."
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Jul 14, 2007 07:50
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Brandon As John makes his case, Brandon listens and realizes that he is making it with genuine emotion. "John," Brandon begins, hoping desperately that he's right, for the sake of anyone inside, "we don't know for sure that there's even anyone in there at all. Everything about this place screams 'trap.' The new cameras, all the rotting bodies and razor wire, the blackbirds, the weird poo poo we keep hearing on the radio, everything. If we go in there we'll probably get ourselves killed trying to rescue someone who either doesn't exist or died ages ago." "I like Jacob's plan. Let's go to the suburbs, check the water heaters for fresh water, and any food or other gear that might have been left behind. I figure the chances are better that we'll find something in random houses than obvious scavenging locations, which have probably all been picked clean by now." code:
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Jul 15, 2007 04:33
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Raymond The bag's under Raymond's eyes accentuate the weary posture and subtle shaking of his head. If not for the fear that had managed to sneak up and pounce on him, he would be yawning, ready for a long rest. He keeps glancing at the body in the parking lot, then tearing himself away. "Th-th-th-this isn't just a-about human k-k-k-kindness. D-d-d-did you get a good look at th-that thing that at-t-tacked us? It was inhuman, u-u-unnatural... I th-think that th-there's e-evil here, and it's p-preying on our n-noblest ideals."
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Jul 15, 2007 19:56
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Blackbird Dreams - (Chapter 1) June 21st, 6:43 P.M. Standing undecided, the six of you linger just beyond the brink of the vile odors emanating from those bags by the entrance. With the last few winks of daylight trickling away, the sky undergoes a transformation into a blue-gray darkness, clouds framed and wisped as if observing an oil painting. There is no report of cricket song, nor the distant vibration of fleeting traffic. The city below is still and silent. So too, now, is the parking lot. Things are apt to remain stationary until forward momentum is again resumed. It is my recommendation that the six of you try to form some sort of definitive leadership, or perhaps a decision making process when faced with moral quandaries and differing opinions on how to proceed into a given situation, potentially hazardous as it may be. You don't 'have' to do anything, to be blunt--you're free, were you so inclined, to simply beeline to the coast of one of the great lakes and then proceed to try and swim across. You're not on a train. That's not to say that you haven't go any substantial options however; the generalized goal of pursuing more information on what's going on remains a good one. Securing substantial food, water, and shelter is another solid task. There is also the discernment of what is going on in larger cities, attempting to meet up with others (such as Mr. Chesterfield) once again, and so forth.
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Jul 16, 2007 02:46
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Jacob "Okay it's getting dark and we need to find shelter incase there is a storm during the night. Everyone back in the car. We'll find some place to rest and we can take a day or two to figure out what in the hell we are going to do from there." Jacob gets back into the driver seat. "Bring up a map on the gps if possible and lets find an area with mostly houses in it." Once everyone is in Jacob will start driving the car looking for housing developments or areas with mostly houses in them. code:
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Jul 16, 2007 17:05
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Brandon Brandon climbs into the shotgun seat of the Taurus, handing the hunting rifle back to Markson beforehand. He looks back at the bizarre, Mad Max-esque Wal-Mart, hoping that he and the others are making the right decision. Once in the suburbs, he is amenable to playing any role in the scrounging process. "We just have to make sure to post a lookout," he says, "while the others are going through the house. The last thing we need are more of those things catching us unawares." I will be lookout if no one else volunteers, but I will need a decent loaner gun, any will do. code:prussian advisor fucked around with this message at 19:07 on Jul 16, 2007 |
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Jul 16, 2007 19:05
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Blackbird Dreams - Sordid Soliloquy(Chapter 1) June 21st, 11:09 P.M. As you pile into the Taurus and begin to drive away, there is a gust of fluttering and cawing, the entire lot of blackbirds taking flight in different directions, dispersing from the Wal-Mart's iconic lettering. Putting distance between the place and yourselves does wonders for your aural senses, though the pang of uncertainty, to the voice over those speakers, the music, and the clear electricity within do play through the recesses of one's subconscious mind. The downtown area of the city is pulverized, in a word. Little of the structure to most of the buildings remains, and what does lie out in the open is either rusted beyond comprehension or charred into soot and ash. Someone, for some reason, went to thorough length and care to ensure the place was leveled--and perhaps some light is shed when a glint catches Jacob's eye in one of said ash mounds--a small bracelet, jewelry, around a broiled-black bone. Funeral pyres. Making your way into the suburban outskirts finds a manner of success. You're hard pressed to find a front door which hasn't already had entry forced, but most of the larger furniture remains in each household. Couches, tables, dressers, and essentially anything of particular weighty proportions still sits where it had been left in the past months. Should you have a hankering for a television, you've got your pick of the litter. Often the contents of a household are found covered in a layer of sooty dust, depending upon the home's proximity to the center of the city proper. In three hours, you're able to search through six houses, each a two-story colonial style architecture, save for one single story ranch dwelling. In one of the dwellings you search, a terrible smell hangs at the top of the stairs to the basement. Below, five corpses--two child sized. Each appears to have been shot in the head. In the opposite corner, a larger body has decayed, shot through the chin with a .38 revolver in hand with a single unspent bullet remaining. You are able to locate an assortment of loose consumable goods with your efforts. Seven intact cans of baked beans, three cans of corn, and two cans of chicken noodle soup are the start. Half a dozen bags of potato chips, albeit well past their 'best by' dates. A half-empty fifth of Johnny Walker (black label) is found, as are three large boxes of saltine crackers, a box of oatmeal mix, and a sixteen pack of Coca Cola. Any particular kitchen utensils you deign to want are located between the six households--as well as blankets, pillows, clothing in varying degrees of comfortable fit, and 15 AA batteries. Attempting to find water within the water heaters is a mixed bag. Corrosion seems to have done a number on most of the units, especially older models, you find. However, the water heater of the newest household you search does seem fairly well intact, and you are able to recover just shy of three gallons of clean water from the unit. You're able to find numerous personal belongings, including currency--though the usefulness of such is up for question at this time. Around 11:00 P.M., the temperature begins to drop rapidly and dramatically, hitting 60 degrees seemingly out of nowhere. The city is entirely dark save for your own flashlights or the headlights of the Taurus, and the distant entrance to Wal-Mart. If turned on, your radios will emit a low but constant crackle of static, more than the units ordinarily should. The Geiger counter reports safe readings at each household you visit. Within reason, you can find anything you might expect to see in a typical American middle class home that isn't especially valuable or appealing to the scavenger's eye. Use your own judgment, but approach it from the mindset that these homes -have- been looted before, likely even more than once. Your discoveries so far as food and the like were either in not-so-readily accessible places, or simply undesirable to some in the past. Jacob's scrounging roll was a 3. You've recovered sufficient food to feed six grown men a single but satisfying meal for three days. GaistHeidegger fucked around with this message at 19:32 on Jul 16, 2007 |
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Jul 16, 2007 19:26
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Raymond "S...so tired. Guys, I've g-got to get some rest." Raymond's eyes are barely open at this point, his will to maintain consciousness waning by the moment. He hasn't handled this day quite so well, and the last gruesome discovery is enough to send him over the edge of emotional exhaustion. "I-if anybody needs me..." He grabs one of the cleaner pillows and blankets, and finds a relatively comfortable place to lie down. "I'll b-b-be...right...here." Can the world of my nightmares be any worse than this? Not be much.
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Jul 16, 2007 20:17
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Evan Douglas "I'm beat too. I think we've got enough for tonight. Let's pack our loot into the Taurus and find a garage to keep it in. I'll take the first watch unless someone else wants it." code:
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Jul 16, 2007 22:13
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Jacob Jacob pulls one of the mattreses from a bedroom into the room just off the garage that they pulled the Tarus into and lays down. "Evan wake me for the next shift." Jacob yawns, "Just give me a couple hours and I'll be goo.." Evan passes out. He's holding one of the tennis balls he played catch with Sir Reginald in his hand and tucked up under his chin. A silent tear rolls down his nose and onto the mattress.
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Jul 17, 2007 03:49
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Brandon Brandon, inwardly pleased at how quickly and naturally the group seems to have formed up an organized watch, he volunteers for the last shift and settles in for some long-deserved rest himself. Unrolling his bedroll on the nearest patch of unstained carpet, he climbs inside and falls asleep, like Jacob, almost instantly.
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Jul 17, 2007 04:21
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Blackbird Dreams - Sordid Soliloquy(Chapter 1) June 22nd, 2:14 A.M. Raymond finds himself stirring on the made bed of a cheap motel room, groggy-headed and sore all over. The blinds are drawn over the windows, yet in spite of them a sickly yellow light pervades the edges with a soft glowing hue. The door to the room is latched securely shut, and at the rear, the bathroom door is ever so slightly ajar, light peeking out from the crack. Rising to ready himself for the day, and rather suddenly noting the strange circumstance of his surroundings, Raymond makes his way to the window, prepared to part the blinds--but as his hand nears, the flat surface bleeds in swift sudden arcs, spelling out in jagged lettering 'Look not into the abyss'. Curious, but frustrated, he finds himself unable to open the blinds. There is a faint, quiet scrabbling sound inside the bathroom that sends a chill up Raymond's spine and turns his stomach within his gut. Something's wrong, he remembers now--he put something terrible in the bathroom. But the door should have remained shut, locked, secure. Must not chance nearing the door--better to get out. Fumbling to unlatch the door, Raymond hauls it open, only to discover that the entire doorway has been bricked over solidly. From behind, he hears the squeal of the hinges on the bathroom door, and turns to see a small malformed shadow on the floor. With a soft squeaky grunt of exertion, a human baby's head peeks around the corner, blinking at Raymond. Then, its body, a long crimson-stained spinal column framed by nearly a hundred spindly legs follows, and the creature hurriedly and eagerly begins to scuttle towards Raymond, lips parting to reveal a maw of needle-point fangs. Raymond employs his standard nightmare procedure--pinching himself as hard as he possibly can. Only this time...this time he begins to bleed. It can't be a dream. Yet it must! Just as the thing rears, squealing an ungodly wail at the man, he wakes in a cold fevered sweat amongst the darkness and his companions. Somewhere, in the blackness, he can hear that scuttling again--but then it's gone. Lying awake, he does not hear it again. June 22nd, 3:44 A.M. Brandon finds himself standing at the doorway to a small gray room, the scent of blood heavy on the air. The door, jammed open nearby, is a teal color stained black in many splotches--with a small sign that says 'Employees Only' upon it. In the distance, he hears the echoing caw of a blackbird, somewhere within the vast open ceiling behind him. Somehow, he is inside of the Wal-Mart, deep within. The shelving in his wake appears as if some sort of labyrinthine catacomb, yet he has surmisedly completed it already. With a flutter, a blackbird lands to perch atop the last of the shelves closest, peering at him with its dark beady eyes. A groan draws Brandon's attention back to the forefront. There is a broad table, stained darkly--and something moves on the floor behind it. Nearing it to get a better look, Brandon makes out someone on the floor, looking up at him. They are nude, covered in blood, with a tight rubber gag in their mouth. Caked with sweat and miserable gore, they look to him desperately with their sole remaining eye, wheezing a muffled cry. Their limbs are missing, hewn off by some instrument or another--and they have been castrated. Off to the side, another door swings open, and a tall spindly man steps heavily in wearing a heavy matte black work apron, with a large cleaver at hand. His eyes widen, and he grins broadly at Brandon. Though Brandon makes to beat a retreat, his legs feel locked in place, and his limbs are sluggish and lethargic, slow to respond. The man steps over briskly, and with practiced ease, brings the cleaver down into Brandon's right shoulder, severing numerous veins and arteries, and a solid half of the meaty tissue there. Pain floods his body, and another heavy chop leaves the limb dangling by a few strained trails of sinew. A third, and it slops to the floor wetly. Brandon awakens, slick with sweat, in the wee hours of the morn--limbs still intact. June 22nd, 7:30 A.M. Watch alarms beep, and watch is fulfilled. The sun is rising, gracing the scenery around you with morning's golden glow. A breeze blows, rather suddenly, and it is an immense relief to those in its path--however, most within the building are untouched by the cooling caress. Throughout the night, each person on watch could have sworn they heard distant shuffling and grunting, but none were able to locate anyone or anything in the darkness even by aide of flashlight, and whatever it may have been did not seem to approach any nearer to the party. As the day begins to roll fully, it seems to be yet another hot one, and is already a full 89 degrees even this early. It's going to be a long day. Raymond has suffered a nightmare, and has failed the roll quite badly. Raymond does not regain fatigue from his rest, and in fact loses an additional fatigue. He will also be dead tired the following day's remainder, until he gets proper rest--and is -1 to all his rolls and his perception checks. Brandon has suffered a nightmare, but still did alright on his roll. He will regain only 3 fatigue for the night, but suffer no penalties on the following day. The group is down a day of group-wide water and food rations, and has used up the batteries in one of the flashlights for the night's watch. The rest of the group regains 5 fatigue. Everyone gains a character point. Edit: I'll not muck with the fatigue rules. You're all fully rested, barring Raymond, who is -1 fatigue for the day and -1 to all rolls + perception. GaistHeidegger fucked around with this message at 05:12 on Jul 17, 2007 |
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Jul 17, 2007 04:54
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Guys, will be back in the saddle tomorrow. Cheers.
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Jul 17, 2007 05:23
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Jacob Jacob gets up feeling much better after the decent night's rest. Stretching the kinks out, "Did you guys hear the noises last night? Sounded like something moving around outside? I never saw anything but it sure was weird. We'll have to make sure we check that windows and doors are locked or baricaded just incase." Jacob spends time collecting everything up and making sure they don't leave anything behind. "I think we should spend today looking for more resources guys. We need to build up some kind of reserve if we want to go any distance. We really need to keep an eye out for more gas and a new set of tires for the car, if we can't find a better vehicle. One place we might get a better one is at a car dealership. The ones on the lot would be trashed but maybe the ones in the show room or in the service bays would be workable? Either way lets get going so we can take advantage of a little cooler part of the day."
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Jul 17, 2007 05:48
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Raymond "I h-h-heard...something last night." Raymond looks better than he did last night, but somewhat worse for wear than he did yesterday morning. "I, w-w-well, can't s-say for sure what it was." He helps clean up, but the pillow and blanket he used the previous night are soaked in sweat, and he feels it more worthwhile to just leave them here. "I g-got much cooler last n-n-night, hopefully today will be more c-c-c-comfortable."
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Jul 17, 2007 12:13
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Evan Douglas "Yeah I thought I heard something too. I wrote it off as imagination, but if you guys all heard it, maybe there was something...moving out there." Evan agrees with Jacob and starts packing up the Taurus and suiting up for the day's scrounging. Geiger counter at the ready, he decides to double check that none of their supplies contain dangerous levels of radiation. code:
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Jul 17, 2007 18:13
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Brandon Brandon, having taken the last shift, is still a little wide-eyed from the vivid nightmare he experienced the night before. Unlike typical dreams, or even typical nightmares, these hardly seemed to grow distant and unintelligible over time. If anything, the memory of them grew more lucid as the day dragged on, and he found himself remembering small additional details--the pile of loose organs in the corner of the Wal-Mart's "workshop," little flecks of meat and bone streaking both sides of the cleaver. Brandon agrees with Jacob's plan, hopping in the car with some feigned enthusiasm, but he is silent. He thinks, what if there really are people in there? These dreams haven't led me wrong before. Just because I was helpless in the dream doesn't mean I will be in real life--we had no trouble running from the creatures in Brady Heights, and those were just as I dreamed them. Brandon continues to mull the subject over as the group patrols the suburbs and car dealerships for essential supplies, pitching in as best he can. But inwardly, his certainty that leaving the Wal-Mart was the right thing to do is shot. He does not voice these concerns to the others for now, however. code:
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Jul 17, 2007 19:50
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Sorry I havn't posted recently. I had a sudden attack of flu. Markson Slowly getting up, Markson surveys everyone around him, looks at himself, unbelieving of last night's events... "We've got to figure out a real plan guys. Are we just getting another year worth of food and water then returning to the bunker? Are we going to stick it out here? Find survivors? Start our own survivalist group? We can't just keep wandering around and hope luck will keep us around forever."
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Jul 18, 2007 02:18
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Blackbird Dreams - Sordid Soliloquy(Chapter 1) June 22nd, 1:34 P.M. Spending the better part of the morning and early afternoon, you continue to scavenge and scrounge wherever you can amidst the suburban sprawl. Though you cover more homes with the help of the daylight conditions, this expedition does not seem quite so fortuitous as last night's endeavor--and most of the households you explore seem to have already been well picked clean by others before you. Owing to Jacob's apparent knack for digging up useful goods, though, routinely checking in out of the way and out of the ordinary nooks and crannies seems to be the most common route for hitting paydirt. More than a dozen dwellings are turned out and strip-searched from within, yielding five more canned consumables, six more gallons of 'safe' drinking water, and beneath a loose floorboard of one kitchen in particular, you discover a warm dusty six-pack of beer. Brandon is sifting through a large old trunk when he comes upon a small wooden case with a metal latch. Inside, in rather perfect condition, is a classic Colt Single-Action Army Revolver against a velvet enclosure. Accompanying the firearm are several medals and honors, an old photograph of a man in uniform, and a small box with thirty rounds inside of it. June 22nd, 2:41 P.M. John happens upon a small library nestled in the den of another home, snatching up several classical story collections as well as a copy of Grey's Anatomy. Evan discovers what literally amounts to a cardboard box full of miscellaneous electronics parts--circuit boards and the like, with a soldering iron on top. Unfortunately, the iron -is- run off of an electrical plug. Nonetheless, the find could very well provide invaluable components for electronics repair and modifications for a while. Raymond treads into the realm of coincidence--and discovers at a bedside nightstand one of his own works, with a bookmark lingering sadly just shy of what he would consider the 'best part' of the literature. Raymond also comes upon a dark blue towel which for whatever reason seems to really catch his eye. Finally, your search does scrounge amidst medicine cabinets--though they too, again, have been largely picked clean. Two bottles of aspirin, a box of band-aids, some burn ointment, two tubes of toothpaste, floss and other sundries are found--as well as a large Sam's Club value sized bottle of mint mouthwash. Stepping out onto the littered porch of the last home, you've finished with this side of town and this neighborhood. The sky is cloudless, utterly--and it would seem, to the best of your awareness, that you could well have a fully clear day to 'work with'. It's not so hot as it had been before--and having gone for at least this stretch without adrenaline pouring through your systems is a welcome respite. A poorly muffled engine rumbles in the distance, off towards the northern edge of town--where the Wal-Mart lies. Scrambling for the range-finders, you manage just in time to see what looks like an armored car covered in barbed wire sputtering off to the northeast away from the back of Wal-Mart, belching black exhaust fumes in its wake. Scrounging of 11, and a few 'luck' rolls in there for good measure. You're noticing distinctly diminishing returns scavenging in this city now--and earlier successes suggest to have been a streak of luck, rather than a dependable norm.
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Jul 18, 2007 06:07
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Mike O'Neill Mike has been uncharacteristically quiet, the events of the last day or so troubling him. As they scrounge for whatever they can find, he periodically thinks back on events and shudders. He finally addresses the rest of the group in relation to what Markson has said as they watch the armored car drive off. "Guys, he's right, we can't just wander around like lost sheep. We need to find other people, and those folks we saw back in the last town looked like they had there poo poo together. Wouldn't surprise me if that was one of them - those freaks don't look like they can drive. How about we get in the car and follow, at a distance? Get on the radio again and see if we can't get 'em to talk to us? Seems to me this place has loving had it."
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Jul 18, 2007 07:48
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Raymond His mind somewhat cleared after a fairly production morning, and a new towel joining his own posessions, Raymond is feeling better and inclined to agree with this notion. "We n-n-need more information. If w-we can get a ch-ch-chance to converse with other survivors, our o-odds might improve. B-besides, I still want details as to wh-what happened, after we went into the bunker. L-let's not get too c-c-c-close until we make r-radio contact, though."
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Jul 18, 2007 12:11
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Blackbird Dreams - (Chapter 1) June 22nd, 2:46 P.M. The radio crackles, seemingly in the midst of a conversation already in progress. "Please hurry! Those...those things..." there is some sobbing. "They ate Rick.." "Don't worry Ma'am, I'm almost there. Sit tight, it'll be alright--I've got plenty of supplies where I'm holed up, hahaha!" You recognize the latter voice as matching that of the speakers at Wal-Mart.
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Jul 18, 2007 15:18
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Brandon Brandon, seeing the improvised armored car pulling away from the fortified Wal-Mart and hearing the radio transmission, puts two and two together and immediately feels his eroding reservations about going after the "Wal-Mart guy" evaporate completely. "Guys, let's go!" He climbs into the drivers seat, now-loaded revolver in his left hand. "This is our opportunity to put this guy down while he's away from his little funhouse, and before he hurts anyone else." He throws his rangefinding binoculars to Jacob who, it seems, has the best vision of anyone in the group. "Keep an eye on him and make sure we don't lose track of him. I'll drive." He slams shut the drivers' side door and turns the keys. "The rest of you, load up whatever weapons you have on hand and let's go!" Going to try to follow this guy before he kills again and hopefully stop him in the process. Brandon will say anything and make any necessary promise to get the others to come along. code:
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Jul 18, 2007 21:09
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Markson Markson silently gets into the car. He dosn't enjoy doing things like this, and dosn't really want to shoot anyone, but he knows that the maniac in the armored car did so once, and will probably do it again. Taking the shotgun seat, he cocks the rifle, and looks through the scope, intent on seeing the car, and if he can't, getting ready to see it as soon as possible. We should have stopped him last night. We failed there. But now, we can redeem ourselves... We can save somebody and I can stop some amount of suffering. Markson thinks to himself. He can feel shaking in his legs, he can feel the sweat go down his brow, but that matters not. "Rock and roll guys. We've got ourselves a psychopath." Markson states, more to himself then anyone else, an attempt to calm himself down and remind him of why he's about to chase down a man with intent to kill. ST 9 DX 11 IQ 14 HT 9 HP 8 Will 11 Per 14 FP 8 Combat Paralysis
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Jul 18, 2007 21:19
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Jacob Jacob gets into the car to drive if no one else does. "We don't even know for sure what is going on. We are jumping around chasing events like yesterday. I'll go along for now just on the hopes of finding out some information but we need to keep looking for supplies or move on to someplace else and leave this town behind soon." Jacob will try and hurry the car up without pushing the car or tires too hard to catch up to the guy from the walmart. code:
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Jul 18, 2007 21:34
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Raymond Though the idea of rushing out to save the day isn't exactly with Raymond's typical idiom, there's a sense of vindication in hearing the voice over the radio. I knew it. I knew that place had an air of evil about it, that it was nothing but dangerous. And now it's preying again, praying on the fears and hopes of this woman...or maybe it's still trying to lure us out into the open. Could this be another trick? It feels like a good day to risk the chance though. If I'm going to be like a character in my book... "C-c-could someone hand me one of the g-g-g-g-guns? I think that r-revolver feels to have a nice m-mojo to it." He sits back in his seat as best he can given the cramped conditions, feeling the road beneath him catching against the tires, the engine roaring, the chatter of human beings surrounding him. I'm alive. I'm still alive. No matter what Hell is out there, I'm still here. code:
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Jul 18, 2007 21:35
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I volunteered to drive because I figured you (Tindjin) would be better suited as lookout. You have two points on me for Perception, but only one for driving, and I figure driving is of little use if the guy loses us. Whatever the following-people-in-a-city skill is might also default to your huge Survival Urban skill too. But honestly it probably won't make a ton of difference either way. Let's work out real quickly who has which gun and who is using what. I have the recently discovered .45 revolver which, sadly, I am not ready to give up just yet. Box of 24 more rounds (presuming it was empty when I found it) I shall leave in the car. I also have the old .22 revolver from the gas station, with three rounds left, which anyone who cares to take is welcome. I gave Markson back the hunting rifle, he has that now. 46 bullets originally, not sure how many times it has been fired. That leaves, all from the shelter: The hunting bow and 20 arrows, minus any used because I am pretty sure nobody ever used this (did we even take it?) The 12g shotgun and 20 rounds, minus used. The .357 revolver and 18 rounds, minus used. The .38 revolver and 24 rounds, minus used. Melee weapons: The crowbar, the axe, and the machete. That's enough guns for everyone to have one, and still leaves the three melee weapons and the bow. As for skills, I have Knife 12, Brawling 12, Handguns 12, and Rifles 11.
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Jul 18, 2007 21:55
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I'll take the shotgun and the crowbar if that's cool. There's 17 shells left if I've counted correctly. I've also got a Bowie knife (from the courier bag at the bunker entrance) if anybody wants that.
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Jul 18, 2007 22:25
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I will take the bowie knife if that is cool/no one else needs it.
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Jul 18, 2007 22:41
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I've got the .357 and there are 16 rounds left after "jake". The Bow and arrows are in the car as I brought it thinking we might need it for hunting and such. I also had the machete and axe strapped to my bag. I'd like to keep one so if someone wants one I am fine with either.
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Jul 18, 2007 22:45
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Evan Douglas Hearing the urgency in Brandon's voice, Evan forgets all his initial reservations about tangling with the Wal-Mart guy. He grabs the .38 revolver and crowds into the back seat of the Taurus, trying to think of a way for a small group of men in a light vehicle with only small arms to take on an armored car. code:
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Jul 18, 2007 23:59
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Blackbird Dreams - (Chapter 1) June 22nd, 3:04 P.M. Scrambling into the Taurus, the six of you arm up and feel the all too familiar sensation of adrenaline pumping readily through your veins for what seems like the umpteenth time. The Taurus lurches with a start, struggling between bald tires and an overloaded occupancy, to make good on the distance between your location and the direction the vehicle outbound from Wal-Mart had been headed. Weapons are exchanged hands over seats and amidst seat-belts and clutter. The engine whines, something rattling in the exhaust system--untold collateral damage from the vehicle's own previous encounter with your asymmetrical stowaway. You're able to keep a bead on the vehicle for a short period--but soon lose it amidst obstructions aplenty. However, the trail remains hot, pursuant of that trailing, awful exhaust smog. You arrive at the parking lot to a smaller, local grocer near the far northeast edge of town. Parked out to the side of the building is a semi truck whose trailer shows extensive rust and fire damage. Inside of the cab you can see movement past grime-covered windows. Between you, and it, is open oil-stained parking lot, with no sign of the armored vehicle. "Is that you? From the radio?" crackles the voice of a woman. A hand presses at the inside of the semi cab's windshield, and you can see a pale face peering out. With eagerness, the driver side door of the cab is opened, and out climbs a short brunette in jeans and a t-shirt, with gauze wrapped around her left bicep and a bandage across her brow. She covers her mouth with both hands, overwhelmed at the sight of so many in the Taurus. From behind her, a hand inside a thick black rubber glove covers her mouth and grabs her head, hauling her bodily and sharply back from sight, her leg kicking out in surprise. Brandon hears a raven's caw down towards the entirely opposite end of the parking lot, at the far corner of the grocery store. His attention is drawn in time to catch a glint of light from something at the corner, attached to something held by a figure kneeling around the building as cover. He has just enough an opportunity to point it out before a shot rings out, ricocheting off of the roof of the Taurus where Mike's head was a moment prior. Evan's tactical scrutinizing, with a roll of 4, coupled with further observation of the armored car re-evaluates it as a large utility full conversion van which has been armored after market, with the wheels being the most vulnerable component. The Taurus does not seem in well condition to engage in any sort of wheeled hot pursuit. No line of sight to the perpetrator behind the semi, you're twenty five yards out and around the corner. Whomever is around the corner at the far end of the grocer is utilizing the building as cover, and seems to have a scoped firearm. Brandon made a 6 on his perception check, and was able to distinguish a threat fast enough to prevent the party from being denied an effort to avoid the incoming shot. Bravo.
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Jul 19, 2007 00:26
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Jacob Jacob yells out when hears the shot go glancing off the roof, "We are under FIRE." Taking note of where Brandon was pointing Jacob moves around the car and starts running to cut off the angle the shooter has on the Taurus. Memories of live fire excercises and his time in the Middle East he runs for the front of the building jinking and dashing. "Try to get to the truck and help the girl, I'm going after the shooter!" Jacob will continue running until he gains cover of the building at which point he will run around the other way of where the shooter was trying to come around behind him. He'll use the skills he learned in the Marines for working around each corner to clear it first then run to the next obstacle. code:
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Jul 19, 2007 00:41
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Jacob bolts for a covered advance on the shooter, body on fire from chemicals streaming through it, muscles burning as he pushes all out for speed. The glint vanishes around the corner for a moment, before the figure ducks just far enough out from behind it to fire upon Jacob with a different weapon. The crackling snapping sound that follows is joined by a flurry of pockmarks appearing scattered around Jacob's feet and path in the pavement, tufts of dust and chips of debris plinking off! He reaches cover, and by virtue of perhaps luck alone if not his evasive efforts, was not hit along the way--but he seems to have the shooter's attention now. I'm going to be handling combat and the like in spurts of time, as otherwise going second by second with each post this would obviously take quite a long while. Jacob successfully rolled for running, dodge, and soldier for what is effectively a survival cocktail. The shooter has switched to some sort of automatic weapon.
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Jul 19, 2007 00:49
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Evan Douglas Evan rolls out the side door of the Taurus and takes cover behind it, keeping his head down. "Where's it coming from?" he asks, only to have his question answered by a burst of automatic weapon fire. He looks over the trunk of the Taurus and tries to draw a bead on Jacob's attacker. How big is this parking lot? Am I out of range with the .38? If so Evan will try to stay hidden behind the Taurus until he thinks he can get to cover along the wall of the store. Where is this semi exactly in relation to us? I don't know about you guys, but I'm a huge fan of MS Paint diagrams in times like this. code:
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Jul 19, 2007 01:10
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This'll have to do until I get a better imaging solution reinstalled, I recently rebuilt my PC:code:You're a little under 75ft away from the Semi Truck around the corner.
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Jul 19, 2007 01:19
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Mike O'Neill Mike checks that the shotgun is loaded and, as Jacob takes a burst of fire from the man on the far side of the building, runs towards the gap between the truck and the grocery store. He has done a few rash things in his time, but nothing quite like this. All the anger, terror and sadness of the last few days overflow as he sprints as fast as he can towards where he last saw the lady. He hopes there's only one man on this side of the store, hopefully still with his hands full subduing the lady. Mike's going to run to the gap between truck and wall (can I assume that the lady was taken from the far side of the truck?), and if I'm not dead by then dive to the ground and try to see if I can shoot the guy's feet - provided I can get a clear shot without hitting the lady. Otherwise, I hope one of the guys comes through. code:Captain Rehab fucked around with this message at 01:49 on Jul 19, 2007 |
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Jul 19, 2007 01:27
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| # ? Apr 20, 2024 02:34 |
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Raymond With the .22 revolver and its three shots held uneasily on both hands, Raymond rolls out of the Taurus and takes cover behind it, watching the other men who looked to have done something like this before running directly into the fray. "This is crazy this is c-crazy this is c-c-crazy," he mumbles, trying to look over the Taurus at their assailants without getting shot, identifying the sources of danger before they get a chance to surprise him. They're covering the car in holes, if it rains...NO, not the time to think about that. Try to remember what the guys taught you about shooting a gun- controlled breathing, aim with both eyes open, pull the trigger between heartbeats; they didn't say my heart would be going this god drat fast! poo poo, just do something, say something. "U-u-um, I'll c-cover you!" he cries out, the first useful thing he can think of in this chaos. I don't even know if I'm within the range of this pistol, but I'll try to squeeze off a shot, aimed as best I can, at anyone or anything to pops up from the left primarily. I don't want to risk shooting the woman. code:
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Jul 19, 2007 03:09
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