Fox couldn't quite stop his small smile from turning into a grin, especially at the girls words, she was only a bit shorter than he was. Give it a few more years, she would probably be taller than him. Not that he really cared, height was never a serious problem for him anyway. Even if the whole 'not so good to eat once it has maggots' wasn't really a joke, he sure thought it was one. Even meat with maggots in it was salvageable. Strange people to let it something like that go to waste, he supposed.

"Yup, yup." He muttered, quickly closing the distance and following after the girl with dreads- choosing to ignore the fact she had raised three fingers into the air. Some kind of signal to someone he couldn't quite see. Not that he minded- he was here to do business, after all. Fox waited very patiently for her to spread the cloth out over the counter, humming very quietly to himself as he gently tapped his fingers against the straps of the various bags he carried.

The moment the cloth was down and she patted the counter, no time was wasted as he carefully slipped the first dufflebag strap from around his chest and onto the counter- quickly followed by two more. There was some clanking and clicking from all three of them and some blood splattered on the outside of the bags, but otherwise they seemed clean-ish. He left the bloodied bag that rested on his right hip alone, only sparsely touching it to move it out of the way while he picked up one bag and set it on the counter-cloth and unzipped it. Or well, tried to, it was stuck!

"Ran into some Scorps while traveling and figured I should deal with them while they were down." He mused quietly, his grin having vanished into a small smile. "Nasty bunch, they are. But they had some good stuff! Seems they had been killing all sorts of people, though. Tons of different shit they had on them, not raiding but... collecting, almost?" Fox made a slightly annoyed noise as the bag zipper refused to open, but after a few rough tugs it finally came free and he flipped the bag, spilling most of its contents onto the counter.

This batch of stuff seemed mostly clean, a few drops of blood on the items. The first bag, it seemed, mostly consisted of canned food and small blankets. There was a good variety among the canned foods too, ranging anywhere from potatoes to what appeared to be some ravioli. Fox then moved to grab both of the other bags and place them onto the counter as well, unzipping them without any problem, though he did not flip them. Instead he merely pulled them as far open as he possibly could to show all of their contents. In both of the other bags there were countless oddities and the alike. Partially filled gun-clips, some clothing that was relatively free of blood, a pair of shoes, and so on and so forth. A bunch of stuff though that was all still in relatively good use and repair.

"Oh. Whoops, that wasn't supposed to be in there." Fox said with a small grin, quickly reaching a gloved hand out to yank a small sewing kit with a large crack in the case. He promptly shoved the small case into one of the small bags that were attached to his belt, not having to even tare his gaze away from the girl. He hadn't bothered with anything that had been too bloody, having to carry around a dufflebag of three different heads and various limbs and sections of flesh, he honestly didn't want to carry anything with more blood than necessary.

"Well, I suppose bringing the internet back is impossible," said Drake. He chuckled. "So getting yuri doujins is probably out of the question." He started back towards the shop. "Life goes on, Abe. And as much as I miss the internet and Xbox Live, I'm glad in a way.

"Not that I approve of billions of people dying, but the government we had was screwed up. What was wrong was the people on the far right, and far left. Nobody got anything done. Just politicians with fat wallets and their thumbs up their asses, being elected by morons. Garbage in, garbage out."

Abel laughed, and he trailed barely behind Drake as they walked to the shop. "I know. We have to keep going. Personally, I wasn't very attached to the way things were, either. I just try to salvage the good things that I can. And even then, I just want to feel close to someone again." That was only as close as Abel ever got to talking about depression. He was numb, hollow, and without purpose.

The blond put his hands back into his pockets as he and Drake stepped into the pawn shop. "Yeah." He accidentally stepped on the back of one of Drake's shoes. "Sorry." Abel went quiet after that, and he waited for something new to come up, to distract him from his thoughts.

Alice flinched as the madman before her started yelling. How dare he yell at her? He deserved to die several times over now, but... those samples might not be a bluff...

Without realizing it, Alice began chewing on her lip. She looked weak right now - she knew she did! But what was she supposed to do when her own life was being threatened? She didn't want to die... the guards weren't supposed to have allowed anything so suspect in...!

"Oracle," whispered a soft voice. Alice jumped a little, but turned to find Katie, a nineteen year old blonde girl who was among her loyalest, longest-standing servants. "It's not safe for you here - nor is it prudent to dispose of a medic. Please, retreat to safety and allow me to handle this. I will not fail you, I swear."

Safety? When was the last time Alice had really been safe in this messed up world? She was always putting herself in danger... it was ludicrous to expect one of her followers to be able to protect her from doing so! But, still...

An image flashed before her eyes; water surrounded her on all sides, and her arms flailed weakly, uselessly, as the last of her breath left her. Then, as if from nowhere, a woman's face - her mother's - emerged from the blue, and she wrapped her arms around Alice, pulling her...

Katie. She was like Mama.

"F-fine," said Alice, hopping to her feet. She allowed two armed guards to escort her toward quarters; there, she would be able to observe the scene from a safe distance. As she hurried through the door, she heard Katie ask, "Now, Charon, you have shown disrespect our Oracle, chosen by the Highest, and by extension, you have insulted us all. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Charon stopped his rant and lowered his arms, his head tilted so slightly. When it was clear that he wasn't going to be immediatly shot, his awful visage of madness relaxed quite a bit. "Defense? Girl, You can't be serious. 10 year olds should be able to fool around and play, not be God-Queens of a cult. I tried to play by the rules and civility. Then I tried to offer both the opportunity to hone her mind even further, and even perhaps fool around in the last remnants of her already ruined childhood."

He folded his arms. "There was no harm intended. Haa, I tire of this rethoric." Charon took his glasses off and began cleaning them, sighing loudly. "Truth to be told I thought she was like my kid sister. Little cute loud 10 year old thing. And then she puked blood on me and died on my arms. The usual story." Charon's voice didn't waver the slightlest when saying it.

"Alongside three hundred odd patients which also died on my arms back then." He added his eyes glaring at Katie. "And 12 accidental infections, plus having to forcibly learn 5 years of medicine in just two because all the good doctors kept dying." He paused.

"Not only the doctors, but pretty much everyone. I had become, at age 19, the world's last adult, in theory. But I'm rambling aren't I? My bad." He then snapped his finger. "Chosen of the Highest, too! Might as well, cause otherwise I can't understand why my life has been a shitty hell of death and impotence." He put his glasses back on.

"So stop wasting my time. Kill me, evict me, or let me read those goddamn books." He finished snarling. "I don't like posturing nor self-entitlement."

Kin stopped crying. His grief hadn't passed yet, but its sting felt weaker than it did before, weak enough that Kin could try to start pulling himself together. He sat up leaning against the wall and opened his bloodshot eyes to the world. The light of the sunset burned his eyes, and he had to blink several times before his vision returned to him. He felt numb and tired, but mostly just tired. From the shouting, gunfire and fighting from the raid, and moving the bodies of his once-friends to the graveyard, Kim was drained.

While he had been crying, Kim had sat next to him, keeping him company. Kim wasn't the type of person to pressure him into talking, and Kin was thankful for that. He really couldn't summon the energy needed for a conversation, and besides that, her mere presence was kindness enough anyways.

It felt like he had been crying for an age, and yet the sun was still crossing the horizon. For a while, Kin sat there, motionless, staring at the sky watching it gradually change color from amber to red, his mind calming. The home of the Forgotten stood before him, engulfed in a bright orange light like a bonfire. Somewhere within were seven empty spaces where people used to be. In the back of his mind, he remembered that the Vikings used to place their dead on a burning boat.

Kin took a jagged breath, the fresh air displacing the clammy air inside his lungs. The dead were still in the front of his mind. Some time after the sun sets, he would stand up and walk back to his room. He would wash his face in the sink. He would get in bed, and lay there awake for God knows how long until exhaustion finally carted him away to a restless sleep. This happened every time they lost somebody. For now though, the sky was turning a dark rust color.

@Kei @MissCapnCrunch @Jangel13

---

As soon as the stench of dead human reached him, Rōnin froze in place. Warning sirens rang in his head, telling him to run as far as he could. His senses dulled, a tingling sensation waking in his mind. It was not the 22 year old "Wandering Priest" anymore. It was the fourteen year old 8th Street runaway, firing blindly into the hideout of a rival gang. Memories fired at him, flashes of blood and murder festering in the dark places of his brain. Frail, willow voices howled at him, emotions dropping and falling like a wave.

'You think you can run from me, fool? You thought wrong!' Alphonsé felt as he lost control of his body, feeling being lost everywhere. His rage grew as his Inner took control of his body. 'NO! YOU WILL NOT CONTROL ME TODAY NOR EVER AGAIN!' He bit back, his body twitching wildly as the two fought for control. Using his mental strength, he overpowered the voice in his head was beating it into the corners of his mind.

Rōnin strained to look back at the pawn shop and walked back. He was using this to show defiance against Inner, showing who was the boss of his body. The smell was getting more powerful as he walked further and as he reached the door, he thought about what he was doing. He has always been alone, his certain "tendencies" made sure of that fact. Maybe this was a change, the possibility of some sort of therapy around comrades. 'This won't work if you don't even get through the damn door!'

Alphonsé agreed and opened it, looking at the interior of the pawn shop. The man who carried the corpses and immediately recognised him. Fox was one of the stragglers he often came across and was one of the few people that knew his true name. He nodded in his direction before going up to the counter. He looked up at the shopkeeper's eyes and said, voice straining "How can I join The Forgotten?" The silence was deafening.

Alice slammed the door of her room shut, locking it behind her before turning on the monitor at her short desk. The video feed loaded just in time for her to hear that stupid Charon compare her to his little sister. She folded her arms angrily. She was nothing like that dumb girl must have been - she had lived, after all!

Katie, who was standing next to Alice's now vacant seat, responded calmly to the medic's criticisms.

"Regardless of your feelings about the Oracle, she was sent to us by the Highest. Yes, she is a girl in stature, but most of the living would be considered children by old world standards. The Oracle founded an organization of hundreds, one that is doing its utmost to find a cure for the virus. That's more than you can say for yourself."

Alice nodded, though she didn't expect an idiot like Charon to understand Katie's reasoning. He was blinded, and would probably just continue to judge her by age alone.

"Now," said Katie, "I would prefer not to have to kill you, so I will give you two options. You can either die now, or you can read your books and join us in our cause. If it's your intention to abandon the noble cause of this world's redemption, then there's little point in leaving you alive."

Alice frowned, amusement battling annoyance. This dumb doctor really did deserve to die, but she couldn't deny the value in holding the services of a medic for however many months he had left. Of course, the point was hardly to redeem the world - the Highest was just something she made up to convince people to obey her. No, Charon's purpose would be to preserve the lives of her silly followers for as long as possible. After all, without them, she would be just as vulnerable as Charon's dead sister. She needed them!

Charon folded his arms and lifted up his chin, as if caught in some thoughts.

"Hmm a convincing mediator pitch. But you've slipped up. You should've used "healing" instead of redemption. It hints at your ulterior motives. That was a mistake of a rookie. A mistake your Oracle wouldn't make. Kid's gotta have serious sass and charisma if what you said is true. Wish I had as much."

The medic paused, eyeing up and down the nineteen year old. "Weell, I could consider joining. I mean, you at least try to research a cure."

Charon then looked around, until the telltale glare of the lens pointed where the video feed. He dedicated a long, hypocritical smile and waved to it. I ain't going to be snagged so easily

"Nice to meet you all, my name is Charles Ronnington. Where are the books?" He added, extending a hand.

Kim Marie

@LovelyAnastasia

---

As the sun rolled heavy and slow across the sky, and dragged with it a cloak that rippled over clouds and pulsed warmly, the sobs beside Kim eased. Kin raised his head, and Kim said nothing, silence the medium and currency often exchanged between them. She didn't consider the boy unmanned for his tears. Only human.

But people - friends, sometimes - died, and the Earth continued to spin on its axis, the trade continued to flow. And duty could not be neglected. Kim rose to her feet. Weariness rolled off Kin's skin in waves, and she said, "I can cover some extra shifts." lest he need time off his feet. Lord - or whatever deity that remained - knew Kim felt hollow for the deaths. But the emptiness was no new sensation, and perhaps there was some part of her that felt she ought to be penalised for such a callous lack of grief. Slipping her pistol out of its holster on her hip, she nodded to Kin in brief goodbye, and turned to make her way back to base.

The landscape was half-barren, with patches of dry grass weaving across sand. Kim trod through them, taking care not to make so much as a crinkle, pistol in hand. As she rounded to base, she spotted Shiba, stationed atop the roof to watch the perimeter. She sent him a curt two-finger salute, and caught sight of a ginger straggler approaching the shophouse. Her gait bordered on a swagger, and an eye-patch dominated half her face. She was armed, and Kim was wary as she scrutinised the girl and stood at the threshold of the shop - inside which Marion Dwight was managing two guests. One - a blond, scarred on the face - had bags draped over the countertop. The second, dark-haired one didn't seem to have brought anything for trade, his tattoos like a second skin. He was speaking to Dwight.

A pair of strangers in the shop - soon to be three. They might have a guard atop the roof, but...

Kim stood by the entrance, keeping an eye on their visitors with a stoic expression. But she regarded the girl with sharper care. She appeared to have lost an eye, and it was the infirm who still walked that were inclined to warrant Kim's caution and concern. When they had forsaken a part of themselves, what else would they be willing to risk in a scuffle? How loose were their canons? In a low voice that carried, she spoke to the redheaded girl, "Have you come to trade?"

@MissCapnCrunch@Mivuli@LovelyAnastasia

Shiba was watching everything from his perch up high when he saw that they came to trade he kept an eye on his watch timer but was able to go back to drinking his scotch. soon he noticed that Kim was talking to someone outside but that person she was talking to just gave Shiba a bad vibe. He kept his eyes on his timer but he got set up quickly and got that woman in his scope, This time Shiba was ready to take them down the second Kim gave the signal for shoot which was making a gun with their index finger and 'shooting' the trespasser The second that she gave the signal Shiba would have the green light to take her out. Shiba would avoid killing the trespasser and try to just shoot her in the shoulder but it would none the less get their point across. Shiba will always avoid the killing blow when possible but he wont take any chances when it comes to the shop and his friends...

Drake went inside to double-check the merchendise. He knew that some people had sticky fingers, or less self-control when it came to food. In a way, he couldn't blame them-- rationing sucked, even when there was a food source at the local Wally World. The ganja guys there probably had the munchies just as much as someone who didn't partake in the herb.

A thought suddenly struck him funny as he took inventory. I wonder if they bake the chickens before they cook them? he thought. He grinned, chuckling. "Pot for every chicken!"

Erren walked towards the shop, sky in tow,many begun to reload his revolver. Leaving the graveyard behind was an easy task, yet he couldn't understand how some people found it so hard to peel themselves away. People were dead, yes, but there was truly nothing that could be done to save them; not even the continuum could. Even still, the idea of praying to Gods for the peace of souls, or even talking to the graves in any manner was looked upon by him as nothing but mad triviality created by people that could not let go of the people they had lost. Maybe the people who did such things weren't mentally capable to deal with change and loss, but there were some that could handle the stress. It felt so alien to him; so otherworldly that he couldn't fathom it.

Approaching the shop from the side, Erren heard an unmistakably thick accent from... Was it Scotish, or something else? He couldn't quite tell, but coming to the entrance pretty much forced him to a conclusion. A girl with a thick accent, missing eye and red hair? Definitely Scotish, even if it was pretty uncommon for someone with that thick an accent to be around these parts. There were a couple others who seemed to have come to trade or whatnot, but the woman seemed the most... Unapproachable.
"Kim, hey. This kid giving you trouble?" he asked, looking at the woman with a cold stare of distrust. Then he tapped the revolver to the side of his head in a slight attempt to threaten her.
"If she is, why don't we show her how I deal with people who come knocking on a door of outcasts after a large number of us were killed? Should make for a great... Spectacle..." he said, a small smile creasing the sides of his lips as he finished.

Kim was a quiet person, as everyone knew, but there was a lot more to her than everyone probably thought. She almost looked like a personal war front slave; throwing herself into the line of battle like a freaking suicide bomber, with deadly skills to boot. Erren took a couple guess a while back, with most coming to the possible conclusion she might have had some kind of inferiority complex. To throw herself into war on a whim or flip of a coin seemed a little... Absurd, to say the least, but it was like she didn't care. Either she was extremely cocky, or mostly crazy, or a bit of both. Yet, neither seemed to fit her entirely perfectly. She had the skills to warrant an ego, but the ferocity and willingness to complete insanity. But nothing seemed to be a perfect piece to finish her psyche. Erren had taken quite a while trying to figure out what the hell was going on inside her head, but only ever coming to the idea of 'inventing a brain extrapolation device and cutting her head open'. For some reason, though, that didn't seem very appealing.

He stood in front of both Kim and the Scotish woman, holding the revolver slightly upwards past his head, but resting against it. Then, he brought it down to hip height and aimed it at her.
"Please, state your true intentions before I put a bullet through your spleen. That, or show us what you have to either sell or trade, because we aren't really in the mood for petty games." he said, the last of the light in the sky glinting in his eyes, "And don't lie to me, or our little friend on the roof will be the least of your worries." he finished, the smile that cracked his lips blossoming into a smile of enjoyment. He hadn't held someone at gunpoint since he took a couple Gamers hostage a few months back, and he felt elated; ecstatic. A feeling that couldn't be rivalled by anything.

Alice scowled at the monitor in her room as Charon looked straight at the camera. What an annoying man! She didn't seem to be the only one who found him obnoxious - when he greeted the onlookers, he received no response at all.

"Before you get to look through your books," said Katie, "I'm afraid there are some formalities to deal with. You'll be meeting with the Oracle... remotely, so you can't threaten her again. Follow me."

Katie left her position and made for one of the room's back exits, motioning for Charon to follow.

***

As she approached the room she was leading the medic to, Katie whispered, "You and I should talk later... privately. But, for now, just try not to get into trouble. She can be a fickle little one."

Without awaiting a response, Katie turned on her heel, leaving Charon alone with the brat.

***

Despite her best attempts to maintain regal composure, Alice couldn't quite hide her irritation at the fact that the man she had ordered to be killed was now standing before her, alive as ever. "Sit down," she said coldly, "If you want to keep living, you'd better do what I say. Firstly, you will give up those samples you mentioned. They don't belong anywhere near me. Secondly, you must swear not to try to undermine my authority again. Usually, I make people swear it in the name of the Highest, but I doubt that would hold much weight with you, so how about you swear it in the name of your sister, and everyone else you've failed to save?" An icy smile formed on Alice's lips. If Charon dared refuse, he would just be killed like she had wanted, and he was bound not to agree to such an oath!

@LovelyAnastasia@Vocab@Jangel13

---

"This is tha' Forgotten HQ right?" Kim nodded at that question, but her face did not waver from its stony expression. Not at the mention of the Scorps, nor when the redheaded girl called her doll, little pig. And then Erren came, to ask after the redhead. "...why don't we show her how I deal with people who come knocking on a door of outcasts after a large number of us were killed?" Brusque, was Erren, cutting to the point with a serrated edge.

"She hasn't started anything," Kim replied, with a glance at Erren, before her eyes snapped back to the ginger. "Yet."

But it transpired the girl did trade, and with information that came free of charge. Her hand - ashen with dust - tossed her Gamer badge and fealty to the dirt. That earned a smite of Kim's interest. So she hadn't come to speak for the colours that Kim harboured no interest in crossing. But then she spoke of a Scorps hangout. "That, kiddies, is meh trade."

Cards were on the table now. Not all of them, but that was too much a rarity. Kim raised her free hand to shoulder-height, in a universal sign for wait. Calm. "All right," she said evenly, briefly bending her first and last fingers in a sign of three fingers - for as many minutes - before she folded those against her palm too. Shiba on the roof would have seen that. Kim lowered her clenched fist, turning her body inward, and stared at the ginger's last remaining eye. "I do not suppose I have to tell a lass like you we do not invite trouble in our shop." She jerked her head towards the open entrance to the shop, and waited for the girl to pass.

She looked at Erren, and swiped the flat of her thumb across her temple, the sign for I'll keep a watch. There were three in the shop now, all shifty characters. Kim liked it none, but these days she liked little. With a beat of remote hesitation, she knocked her knuckles on her collar-bone, and turned into the shop in the wake of the girl. Her own signal for thanks.

Their base was small enough, and with a total of five in its quarters, it made for cramped arrangements. Feet shoulder-width apart, Kim stationed herself in the corner by the entrance. A bead of sweat careened down her forehead. It was only a matter of waiting before more streaked the same path. But cupping her hands around her ever ready pistol, she stood sentry to watch the trade carefully.

@Vocab]@Mivuli@LovelyAnastasia

Shiba watched seeing that Erren showed up to talk to the new person on the ground along with Kim. Shiba was getting an itchy trigger finger which was only worsened when he saw through the scope that she was giving the signal to stay calm and wait 3 minutes. Shiba then reset the timer in his watch to go for the next 3 minutes. He had a scope in the pawn shop itself so he could see what was happening and was able to know that the trader from before hasn't tried anything so now Shiba was just going to have to watch and wait a little longer. Damn it Shiba was on edge he started to get the feeling of pins and needles on his hands needing to do something. He gets this way when their members die and he feels like he cant do anything! its so frustrating! Shiba put down his sniper rifle and then took a few more swigs of his scotch to calm down his trigger finger. Shiba needed to stay calm and trust in his friends to keep the trade going. Shiba knew that this is what they did so he couldn't interfere until necessary, didn't mean he couldn't feel nervous around the amount of people in the shop though....

Charon stared intently at the monitor, grabbing his glasses and cleaning them. When the girl mentioned parting away with the samples, his whole body tensed significantly. His nostrils flared up.

"They're part of my research, those. I would rather defend those with my life." He unintentionally get out, his anger getting the best of him. He quickly realized his mistake though, as he composed his face in a thin illusion of civility. The second comment she made didn't help. Reminded him of his failures. I´m gonna go the full mile and strangle you, you little shit. Even if it means breaking... hold on. Charon's gears clicked in his mind, as his murderous thoughts brought him awareness of a little detail, the wording of the oath. He lowered his head. She wasn't aware of that, was she?

Like a methodical adult, he swallowed hard. Losing the samples would be quite a blow, but you couldn't win all of your battles. You needed to look at the bigger scheme. Lose a battle, win a war. He inhaled.

"Alright. Both of those I accept. I swear on my sister's tomb and all the tombs of my patients I will not to try undermine your authority as the Oracle."

I'll undermine you for sure. Or outright kill you. This oath has a second reading.