It was about afternoon, multiple people had already came into the small gated community that had been affectionately named 'Last Hearth' by it's inhabitants. People still walked the street, either talking, caring supplies, or even standing on small handmade stands that poked neatly over the top of the 12 foot tall brick wall that encircled the entire community. Not very people were seen with firearms, and the ones who did possess firearms were manning the guard posts. The faint sound of gurgling could be heard beyond the gate, signaling that a couple walkers or so had taken to clawing at the wall, attempting to get over it, but the wall proved far too high for them. Even if they could climb the wall, barbed wire layered the top of the brick wall, threatening to cut and slash anyone brave, or stupid, enough to make the climb. The gate to the community was the most enforced. Mainly covered with wooden boards across the length of it, small holes were left to allow firing ports into the street. There was also embedded metal spikes, handmade, poking out from the boards to the street, impaling any walker that might try to claw on the gate. Even now, at this early in the day, gunfire could be heard coming from the other parts of town, echoing across the town, showing that there was still those who were trying to make it outside the community walls. For now, Last Hearth would not have to worry about scavenging the town for supplies, as the gated community had already had a massive stock of supplies, not including the supplies that were brought in by other survivors, but incursions into the town would still be carried out eventually, either for looking for more survivors, or gathering up more precious materials.

Luke Mayweather stood at the gate, peaking through the firing ports of the gated community. Luke was a young man, about 17 years of age. Black long curly hair was matted to his head, signifying he had gone at least a couple of days without a good shower. Standing at the height of 5'10'', and weighing about 145lbs, Luke looked far too small for the bomber jacket he sported, along with the baggy blue jeans, black boots, and a black T shirt of some band. Hanging from Luke's side was a long sheath for what looked like a bowie knife, which hung all the way down to Luke's knee, due to it's long length. Luke had no parents to watch over him here, both of them leaving him with his aunt for a couple of weeks, and his aunt was now more than likely a walker, giving Luke the sense he'd be able to do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Such as looking through the hole of the gate, despite a huge handmade sign that read 'STAY AWAY FROM GATE' hanging beside his head.

John was walking through Last Hearth, greeting people, and taking inventory of supplies. He took it upon himself to make sure that supplies didn't run out and so far they were doing great. It would be a couple of months before they ran out. But that was best case scenario. John didn't go by best case scenario anymore. As John walked through the haven, his shotgun slung over his back with a rope, and his kitana holstered, he saw a kid, about his age, staring through the gate. John smirked and walked up to him and said, "You know, you're supposed to stay away from the gate."

Max fixes belt with hatchet. "I guess I'll go greet some people" Walks around looking for someone to greet.

The early June sun loomed between the grey and lifeless buildings, hitting Hugo in the face every so often. It had already been a couple of weeks since the chaos had started, and several days since he had arrived to Last Heart, and to be frank it was starting to get boring. Having gotten tired from sitting on the curb and waiting for something to happened, Hugo decided to find out who was in charge here. Walking through the streets, and being followed by the burning sun, Hugo stopped in front of a young girl carrying a hatchet.

"Excuse me Miss", said Hugo almost over pronouncing, making sure he didn't come off as aggressive. "Do you happen to know who is calling the shots around here?"

Luke looked back, a smile decorating his rough face, "Are you the neighborhood watch, or something?" Luke replied, with a small laugh, as he took a step back from the gate, then reached out with his hand, "I'm Luke." He introduced himself, waiting for the new guy to shake his hand. The new person looked about Luke's age, and was definitely packing. Luke could see the shotgun, along with a samurai-like sword attached to his person. Luke wasn't as fortunate in the weapon department, "How long have you been in Last Hearth?" Luke asked, his friendly smile still holding on his face.

John laughed. He took the kid's hand and shook it. "I'm John. John Wallace. I got here the 4th day after the world went to shit," he said, chuckling. He noticed the kid looking at the shotgun and the kitana. Most people did. Not everyone was as lucky as him. John had looted these from some crazy guy's house. The dude had had a shit ton of pistols and what not. "I lived just north of here but that lace went quick. What about you?"

His rounds at Last Hearth were simple, make sure the solar stills were working. It was almost laughable, to a few members of the community it really was, that he was doing this when they had water to spare at the current. They'd also had a military to spare a few weeks prior. Barrels, plastic wrap, and a few cut up plastic bottles arranged to catch whatever impure water they could evaporate, left under the harsh sun. He stood back, smiling at his handiwork and appreciating simple work that could keep the mind busy. There was nothing left but simple work. He left them there, meandering back out onto the streets of Last Hearth. People packed the street, going about their business the same as he was, albeit most without so much order. He kept to the side of the road, wandering inadvertently towards the front of the settlement in keeping away from the business in the street. There was always something to be done at the gate, maintenance or watch. He wasn't particularly handy with repair work but he wasn't doing it because he took pride in the results.

Luke smirked as he let loose the handshake, and begun to speak, "I've been here for 2 days now. I grew up about 40 miles south of here with my parents. I came here to stay with my aunt." Luke replied, trying not to let on that the death of his aunt still bothered him. He was lucky, though. He had hardly knew her, and she wasn't exactly the most likable person, by any means, "Do you know how to use that thing?" Luke asked, pointing to the impressive katana the man wielded with him. Luke would never want to use any type of melee weapon, he didn't have the strength to make that a good tactic. Firearms was his choice. He just had to scavenge one, first.

Vince sat against a wall near the gate of Last Hearth. He had tried to find an area where the sun wouldn't be beating down on him, and though the shadow of the house was protecting him for the moment, he had no doubt that as the sun moved he'd soon be roasting again. He sighed, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. He pulled one cigarette from the pack, looking at the half-empty box with a bit of disappointment. He placed the pack back in his pocket and lit the cigarette, taking a long drag. It was funny how the world could change so much in such a short amount of time. His pipe was leaned against the wall next to him. His green eyes glanced about, noting a few people talking near the gate. He hadn't gotten very well acquainted with the population of Last Hearth just yet, despite having arrived three days prior. He leaned back against the wall, taking another drag from his cigarette and watching as two men nearby talked.

John nodded as Luke told his story. He laughed when he asked him if he knew how to use the katana. "There's not much of a technique to it. I just slash around a lot until there's no more zombies," he said, laughing. "I like to keep a melee weapon on me so that I don't die when I run out of ammo," John said, smiling.

"Whatever works, then." Luke replied, with a chuckle. Honestly, Luke knew he'd just end up hurting himself if he swung that sword around. Talking about weapons piqued Luke's interest even more on obtaining something to defend himself with, "If we could get a group together, how would you like to join me on a excursion? We could look for ammo and a few other sweet things." Luke stated, with a goofy smile. The community had more than enough water and food, for now, so that wouldn't be a priority for them. Ammo, and firearms, however were something that appeared scared around here.

John thought about looks suggestion. The town did need ammo and firearms. "Sure. We could use weapons and I'm running low on ammo anyhow," he said. "If you want to go grab a couple of people I'll make up supply packs. Who knows what'll happen out there," he said as he started walking towards storage. "I'll be in the storage room once you get a group together."

Luke nodded as John walked off, to wait at his storage room, "See you when I get a group together." Luke called out, as he turned back around to the gate. On the other side of the enforced structure was a world that would rip apart people who didn't stay on top of there game. Hopefully, if they got enough people, they enter into that world and come out on top. Luke scanned around for a moment, looking for anyone that might actually be up to the challenge.

---

Lacy was doing her own rounds, simply walking around and making sure nothing stuck out to her. In her left hand was a small handgun, a pocket sized Glock. As she walked, she stared at the sidewalk, until the sound of approaching footsteps caused her to look up. In front of her was a man, definitely older than her, walking down the sidewalk. Lacy brushed the blond hair out of her face, before deciding to call out, "Up to anything particular?" She said, pocketed the Glock in a equally small holster on her hip. The man looked fairly downtrodden and beat up.

Sven sighed as he sat alone on the streets. He quietly watched as the people by him came and go, and yet he didn't recognize a single face. "People are like the seasons... They just come and go," he sighed, pushing himself up. He wished recognized a friend or two, and wondered where they are now, and if they were ok. "He took a look around the gated community, and listen as those things growled and grumbled outside.

"This is my life now," he mumbled to himself. Yes, this was of course his life, whether he liked it or not. A life of survival, a life of z-heads, and a life where... Life doesn't matter. As he trudged down the streets, he bumped into a random person. "Ah, sorry," Sven uttered to the person he bumped into.

He'd almost made it. It was actually a peaceful walk down to the front of Last Hearth and he'd managed to avoid bothering anyone or being bothered until about the last leg. George looked away from the center of the street, as he'd been watching the crowds, to address the voice hailing him. A woman, armed - not that that was particularly rare or unsettling at this point he just found himself taking stock of what was a threat - and without an immediately apparent occupation. At first, he was confused as to why she'd ask him if he was busy. But why chance it? "No, I'm just going to the gate to find work. Why do you ask?" It wasn't uncommon for people to ask for help around here. They lived out of each others' ways and in each others' company, and he'd gotten used to pitching in what he could where he could to keep focused, even if he didn't particularly trust anyone in town yet.

"Just wondering. The little amount of time you've been here, I've just seen you walking around here." Lacy said, with a weak smile. She had never spoken to the man before, be he was definitely one of the more busier people around the town, and probably one of the smarter ones, "My name's Lacy." She added, as she approached the man, sticking out her hand. The man looked as if he had been caught off-guard by her random call out to him, which Lacy found rather amusing.

GoyaVive said
The early June sun loomed between the grey and lifeless buildings, hitting Hugo in the face every so often. It had already been a couple of weeks since the chaos had started, and several days since he had arrived to Last Heart, and to be frank it was starting to get boring. Having gotten tired from sitting on the curb and waiting for something to happened, Hugo decided to find out who was in charge here. Walking through the streets, and being followed by the burning sun, Hugo stopped in front of a young girl carrying a hatchet."Excuse me Miss", said Hugo almost over pronouncing, making sure he didn't come off as aggressive. "Do you happen to know who is calling the shots around here?"

"No sir I do not"

"Oh, well, please don't call me "sir". Makes me feel old.", said Hugo, slightly taken back by how direct the girl's answer was. "The name's Hugo. I've been here for several days, but somehow missed the whole welcome committee." Hugo let out a slight chuckle, trying to make it clear that was supposed to be a joke. "Are you familiarize with Last Hearth at all?"

The news that people, at least one of them, noticed his daily routine was alarming at first. He didn't want to stick out, definitely not here, but he didn't get the impression that his reputation was particularly negative. He only eyed her hand for a moment before offering his own. "Pleased to meet you. I'm George Walsh." He almost said 'from accounting' out of habit. In his time on the road he had never had time to slow down or think about how much things had changed; the important bits, the survival, had simply molded their way into his psyche as he walked and the little ticks and idiosyncrasies of his past life had remained in the absence of live company to practice new ones on. At least he hadn't start talking to the walkers yet, he'd seen how that ended up for some of the people in OKC. "I'm just doing my best to stay busy. The amount each of the living has to do goes up every time there's another one of them."

"You got that right...." Lacy responded, slightly trailing off, as she released her hand from the handshake. "You're quiet the busybody, aren't you?" Lacy asked, her mood more uplifting this time, "Where are you from, Mister Busybody?" Lacy added, with a dorky smile. She like goofing off and making fun. It was about the only thing nowadays that you could do that wasn't tainted in same fashion, directly or indirectly, by the walkers.