Night Phase 1 - Two Murders in the Night
A large fire crackled in the center of the camp, built out of discarded furniture taken from the last town the group passed through rather than raw wood. Fay had found a working pickup truck with a tank full of gas and had piled the back full of chairs and tables from the dead and nameless town. Most of the group had ignored his efforts, but Vanq had seen the benefit of a nice fire for a night. Now everyone was sitting in groups around the bonfire chatting and trying to forget their struggles.
Smiral found herself the center of the largest group. She'd never considered herself very attractive or an entertaining person before the Walkers came, but somehow she had become the center of attention in this band of ragged survivors. Nargle had always been close with her, being the only other survivor in the group to make it out of Philadelphia alive in those early days. Smiral's oldest friend—it was slightly depressing to think that knowing someone for five months now made them your oldest friend—was somewhat displaced this night, sitting on the other side of Aragorn. The lanky man whom she saw like a brother had taken the patch of grass just to the left of Smiral as soon as she sat down near the fire and had barely stopped talking since then. On her other side sat Primez, a more sturdily built fellow who she felt something more for, perhaps love? Maybe just lust? Either way, Smiral had had quite a few steamy private conversations with the man that hinted that the feeling was mutual.
Across the bonfire from the large cluster of people sat Serpentine and Squee. They'd become friendly soon after meeting two months back, when a smaller band of survivors led by Hank had joined up with this larger group, those in the group including Serpentine, Christie, and a couple men who'd been killed by Walkers since then. They were cuddled up next to one another, one of the many things that made people think they were an item. Back before the end of the world, as folks took to calling it now, two women getting so close to each other would have been looked at strangely. Now nobody really cared.
Well, not exactly nobody. Hank looked on from the shadows at the edge of the light, glaring at the pair of women. He had come from the same backwater town in Arkansas as Serpentine did, the only survivors from the rural area. Hank had made sure of that, cleansing the town of all Walkers, the reanimated corpses of friends and family alike, before they left. It was no secret that he was protective, maybe a little possessive, of Serpentine and that he disapproved of her relationship with the other woman. Fay and Vanq passed by him carrying more chairs for the fire, the women having decided to remain in charge of their own idea despite men gladly volunteering for wood hauling duties.
Jster sat side by side with Zed, his head resting on the other man's shoulder as he watched Smiral's group chatting and laughing. It was good that she and Primez were getting close, something as simple as love blooming among so much death would do wonders for group morale. Jster wasn't alone in this thought: Natsume and Rusalka had both brought the idea up to him and had worked to see that the potential lovers had some time alone together once in a while.
Seravee sat lonesome on the hood of one of the cars forming a ring around the camp, looking out into the darkness. Fun and merriment were all well and good, but she knew someone had to keep watch lest the Walkers come on them by surprise. The light from the fire wreaked havoc on her night vision, but she was still able to spot movement out in the darkness. "Stop right there," she called out calmly to the moving figure as she flicked her flashlight on and readied her revolver. The light revealed Rilla, a young man who'd been with the group since before Seravee joined it, and whom she had never felt comfortable around. "What are you doing out there?"
"Can't a guy take a piss without someone holding his hand around here? Overprotective idiots." Rilla continued on past Seravee into the camp while mumbling further similar sentiments, just as disrespectful as always. She rolled her eyes and went back to looking out for Walkers, turning her flashlight off. She'd have to keep an eye on Rilla, but for now it was more important to keep watch.
About an hour later a voice called out to everyone in the camp. "Alright people, if we want to be on the road in the morning everyone needs to get some sleep." Holmes was always the one to call order to things, the long standing leader of the group. She always made sure what needed to be done got done, so most people listened to her orders without issue. "I want at least four people up and watching for Walkers at all times, same procedure as usual. Beatrix, I want you to take lead for the first shift, Vanq can take the second, I'll—"
"Shut up already." Cringer's voice cut over the usual nightly speech. "We all know what to do, you don't need to say it every night. You're not our mother, you know." Most people gave the man dirty looks, though Rilla and Hank both seemed amused at the outburst.
"Holmes has saved our asses more times than I'm sure any of us remember. How many people did you see die before she came and got us organized, huh?" Beatrix had always been one of the more outspoken members of the group, so her retort didn't come as a surprise to anyone.
Holmes sighed at the pair's pointless back and forth. "It's fine, he's not wrong. You all know what to do. Anyone not picked to be on watch should get some sleep, we'll need you fresh and ready for more driving in the morning." She sought her own sleeping bag after giving the last order, wanting at least a handful of hours of sleep before having to wake up and take the last shift of the night watch.
Beatrix picked out Hank, Seravee, and Nargle for the first watch. They all grabbed flashlights and a weapon of their choice, each taking a crossbow they'd pilfered from a hunting goods store a few weeks back. Guns were more reliable, but their noise would attract more Walkers so they were kept as more of a last resort than anything else. Everyone also brought along their melee weapon of choice, just in case. Beatrix sent them each off in a different direction to keep watch, heading out northward herself.
Nargle sat on a large rock a couple hundred yards out from camp, staring out into the darkness to watch for movement. Some others liked to stay close, some perching atop vehicles with their crossbows and guns to watch for Walkers, but she'd always preferred to go out into the empty darkness to keep watch. It was calmer, peaceful almost, and sometimes while soaking in the darkness she even forgot that the whole world had gone to shit half a year ago. The crossbow hanging from a shoulder strap and the pistol hanging from her hip always brought her back to reality fairly quickly, but she lived for those few rare moments of peace and calm nonetheless.
A rustling sound from behind pulled Nargle out of one such lovely fragment of oblivion. It was probably her replacement for the watch. She'd been out here for a while now, unsure of how long it had been exactly what with her drifting mind. The full three and change hours must have passed for someone to be coming out to relieve her from watch duty.
"All's quiet tonight." Nargle's voice was somewhere between a whisper and normal speech, pitched low so as not to carry and attract Walkers. "No corpses, no bandits, nothing has moved out there since I got here. Hopefully it'll be quiet for you, too."
The rustling sound of clothing brushing past the long grass came right up to the rock, the person saying nothing. Nargle started to turn around to see who it was, expecting to see Smiral or Rilla trying to scare her as they did once in a while for shits and giggles. Before she could look, a hand clamped over her mouth. She went tense and reached for her crossbow, but a sharp pain in her gut brought her up short. She felt warm wetness seeping down her stomach and onto her legs, her blood, so much blood. A pained whimper was muffled by the hand over her face.
"Quiet now, whore. You're not wanted anymore." The voice was a rough growl, probably male but it was hard to tell with her senses dulled by blood loss. The person pulled their knife out and drove it into her stomach again, causing another muted moan of pain. Nargle struggled weakly, but the person holding her was too strong to be pushed off. As she felt her life slowly flowing out of the wounds in her gut, her eyes growing dim, the last sound she heard was the pleasured laughing of her killer.
Nearly two hours later, Vanq was wakened by Beatrix returning from her watch. Middle watch was always the shittiest of the lot since it cut your sleep in half, but she hadn't been assigned to it for a couple weeks so she couldn't complain. She mumbled something to Beatrix as she climbed out of the pile of blankets she used as a bed, intending to thank the other woman and tell her to go get some sleep, but her sleep addled brain could have turned it into anything. The quiet chuckle from the other woman as she turned to leave made Vanq quite sure it had been some kind of unintelligible mumbling rather than real words.
After pulling on a coat and grabbing her flashlight, Vanq went around to wake the three other suckers who'd be sharing the second watch with her. Cringer was an obvious choice since he was a dick earlier that night; he was often chosen for the middle watch for that reason. Primez hadn't been chosen for the shit watch in a while and was stirring restlessly in his sleeping bag, so she woke him as well. Serpentine was already awake and getting ready to go, as she often was for whatever watch of the night she felt like taking, so she filled out the ranks.
"I'll take the west end," Vanq murmured to her watch mates. "Pick your place, do your thing. Head back to camp in a couple hours when our turn's over or wait it out till your replacement comes, makes no difference to me." Some people gave strict rules for shift changes, but Vanq had never seen the point. The others gave their agreement and headed out in whichever directions took their fancy, first grabbing the crossbows from the side of the RV on the northwest side of the ring of vehicles where the folks of the first watch had left them when they came back. There were only six of them, so someone from the first watch must have still been out there. Vanq shrugged and went on her way, just wishing she could crawl back into bed.
A scream woke the camp shortly before dawn. People rushing over to the noise with weapons ready found Vanq sobbing over Holmes's sleeping bag. The lightened sky and the flashlights in a few people's hands showed a back end of a crossbow bolt sticking out of sleeping back with a dark stain marring the red surface. A muffled growling sound and the moving sleeping bag made it clear that Holmes was already dead and turned. Where some people rushed away to gather their things to hurry and move on, frantic and on the edge of hysteria, Fay gingerly lifted the edge of the sleeping bag with her machete to make sure. The growling grew louder and Holmes's mindless grasping motions quickened as her yellowed eyes saw the living people.
"Looks like the bolt has her stuck to the ground." Cringer hefted his belt knife to put her out of her misery. "Better to get this over with now."
"No!" Christie pushed him away. "No, just leave her. She won't hurt anyone like that." She was one of the people who found it distasteful to slaughter helpless Walkers, for some reason or other. They weren't people any more, after all. But it wasn't really worth the argument, so Cringer shrugged and turned to gathering his supplies.
Another frantic voice rose over the sound of sobs and people readying to leave not long after. "Where's Nargle?" Smiral had found her friend's bedding empty. She went around asking who had seen her last, if they knew where she was, but nobody had any firm answers for her. Beatrix said she'd been on watch in the east but Serpentine, who had taken second watch on that side of camp, hadn't seen her. Twenty minutes passed with Smiral growing ever more frantic, Aragorn and Primez trying to calm her down, before another yell startled the camp.
"Walkers! A whole herd of them!" Rusalka rushed over from where she'd been packing her things on the eastern edge of camp. "Hundreds of Walkers coming this way. We have to get out of here now!" The camp fell silent and the distant sounds of Walkers groaning and growling could be heard coming their way. Seravee rushed over for a look and said they had a couple minutes at most, not enough time to take everything. Everyone went into overdrive gathering their things and shoving them into whatever vehicles they were closest to.
Zed was one of the last to get going, hopping into the driver seat of the pickup truck as the first Walkers came into the camp. A gaggle of others, the rest of the stragglers, piled into the back of the truck with their bags and whatever other supplies they could grab. As the truck kicked up a cloud of dust in its wake getting the hell out of dodge, a mournful wail from Smiral huddled in the back of the truck drowned out all of the other sounds. She'd spotted Nargle near the front of the pack of Walkers, shambling forward with dried blood and her entrails decorating her lower half, a knife still lodged in her gut as proof positive that she hadn't fallen to Walkers.
Night Phase 1 is over
Sherlock Holmes has been killed. Her role was Survivor. She was also the elected Leader. Due to her early death, a new Leader shall be chosen.
ImANargleHunter has been killed. Her role was Michonne, with the ability to try to kill a Walker of her choice each Day Phase (only after the Walker gameplay started, though).
They are both Walkers and may remain active in the thread. Walkers will have a further role in the game to be activated and explained once they have some more company.
Day Phase 1 begins
Day Phase roles send your role uses to DarkKeny via PM.
All Survivors may cast a vote for a new Leader by PMing DarkKeny your vote. This new Leader's lynch vote will count as 2 votes, so choose wisely.
All Survivors may cast a lynch vote. Whoever ends up with the most votes will be killed by the group on suspicion of being a murderer. Comb the post for hints and discuss your vote with your fellow Survivors before casting it. All lynch votes must be sent to DarkKeny in a PM; once sent your vote will be considered final and unchangeable.