[IC] Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

丅he darkened sky, freckled with stars, would soon disperse. The black hue softening by the second, the sky awakening from its slumber. The morning was always filled with an ominous, brittle silence and for a moment it would feel.. normal. Birds would release their melodious tunes out into the otherwise silent world, blades of grass were speckled with fresh dew. The sky lit a brilliant peachy tone, blushing as the new day began. The air was fresher, easier to inhale, but you would soon find that things were far from normal. The beauty and tranquility of dawn would erupt in chaos, shrieks that curdled blood would silence the birds music. What was once peaceful, would turn horrific. The restful fog concealing the ravenous beasts that would eagerly begin their search to destroy.

It has been nearly 5 years since the initial encounter with Toxoplasmosa, the encounter that would eventually be the downfall of the human race. The parasite is at its strongest, devouring through every defense the human body has, taking control of the host within a few measly hours. The infected are at peak population, found roaming mostly in cities and neighborhoods, few stragglers found in wooded or rural areas where farmers would have once called home. They roam in thick packs, often attacking their own in fits of random rage. The smallest pin drop now sets them off, their sight poor but hearing heightened. They're fast unless their host body is impaired or incredibly injured, but even legless their desire to kill is strong, many infected found dragging mere torso's around as a body. Survivors have adapted the best they can, learning to be light-footed, learning that the only way to truly stop an infected is to kill the brain. But who wants to get that close anyways...? Groups have formed, one by the name of Toxo ravaging those who prove to be a threat. They would earn themselves the title of most hated in an apocalyptic world, despised by another well known group of survivors calling themselves PMC. Loners weave their way in and out of the chaos, watching the conflicts that arise within the groups.. reveling in their choice to be alone, despite the elevated dangers.

With no rules, no guidance, and man-eating monsters running amok, The world has never been more treacherous than it is now....

[essends]

" ᴛʜᴇ sᴀʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅs ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ʙᴜʀɴs.
ɪᴛ’s ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ,
ɪ’ᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ʜᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ. "

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Birds, no matter what was going on in the world, they always had some song to sing. It was amazing, their resilience, their ability to forget the universal unrest for just a moment to rouse the sleepy world with dulcet music. It was something many took for granted, it was effortless to dispose of such pure memories, replacing them with the new horrors presented.

Eyes of varied blues and greens, accentuated by flecks of warm honey, would flicker to life. Drowsy lids combating the urge to fall back into slumber. Languid arms would reach every which way, a somnolent groan following the stretch. Natalia would shift here and there, finally rising to a sit, much more aware eyes examining the bedroom around her. It was a decently sized room, one twin sized bed for which she slept, a hefty wooden dresser that was home to clothes she had acquired through numerous item-runs. There was an old full body mirror that she adored, sat right in front of the curtained window. It was cozy, humble, a sanctuary even. She called it home, all thanks to her groups leader, Ryder. While her initial interaction with the group a mere four years ago, was violent and gruesome, she knew they were just being cautious. She was a loner at the time, and lone wolves were precarious.. Especially during times where rules were an insignificant memory.

Natalia would finally rest her feet atop the hardwood flooring, the embrace sending shivers down her much warmer body. She would grip the soft lacy curtains that hardly blocked out any light, tugging them to either side of the window to peer outside. It looked so normal outside, their little slice of heaven keeping them relatively safe from the horrendous monstrosities outside the fenced compound. Heaving a thoughtful huff, the petite woman would snatch the towel hung on a hook attached to the wall before unlocking her bedroom door, wandering down the hall to her destination. The house had a functional bathroom, and not the only one within the compound either. It was a blessing to have clean, running water, something she was grateful for everyday. Soon the shower would fall silent once more, she was sure to be brisk, wasteful prolonged showering greatly frowned upon nowadays.

Again Natalia would retire to her room, changing into a pair of tight-fitting cargo pants, the color of tanned sand. Adorning her top portion was a simple black v-neck t-shirt, tucked into waist of her pants. She would seat herself atop her bed, pulling her combat boots out from underneath it before sliding each one onto the correlating foot, lacing them securely. Her attire resembled that of a casual army uniform, minus the camouflage. Her richly toned hair would cascade over her shoulders, she would admire its ability to prosper and procure such a silky appearance. It was however, a distraction and would prove to be hazardous if kept down, so with swiftness she would pull her hair into a messy ponytail, a few thin strands falling to frame her face. Natalia offered a longing smile towards her reflection, painful memories haunting her. Her mother hated went she kept her hair down, she insisted it covered her face too much, not enabling her "natural beauty" to glisten. Natalia would extend a subdued giggle at the reminiscence, eyes falling to the floor in desolation. "God I miss you mom..." The words were unsteady, her voice trembling while her eyes filled with gloom. She could feel the salty, aching tears welling within her eyes, brows furrowing in irritation. Natalia would straighten up, a sniffle and clearing of her throat keeping the sobs at bay. A forlorn expression would plaster her face, her hand rising to vigorously swipe away any residue left on her cheeks. There was no time for crying, especially in a group as brutal as Toxo.. If she were so succumb to the misery, she would be eaten alive by people who weren't even infected..

Natalia would regather her composure, exiting her room with her backpack adorning her back, knife and gun both holstered. She would travel down into the kitchen within the main house, greeting anyone leisurely loitering around the centered wooden table. But she would not stay long, grabbing an apple and a bottle of water before heading outdoors. The air was warm, the sound of cicadas buzzing in nearby foliage, revealing that summer had finally arrived. Natalia seated herself on the edge of the main housing's porch, her legs swaying slothfully just above the ground while she dug through the older leather backpack resting atop her lap. She hummed mindlessly to herself, searching for an object she had scavenged the day prior, she recalled it had been a music player and had anticipated it working. If not, she would likely trade it for something else, surely someone could fix the old thing.

---

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[Cio]

"And the walls kept tumbling down
In the city that we love
Grey clouds roll over the hills
Bringing darkness from above"

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She happened to be around the area. No biggie.
Sonya had been gone from her usual spot for about a week. She didn't like staying still too long, and keeping in the move gave her something to do. It was better than being a sitting duck, anyway. Everyone knew what that would get you.

Making her way through the barren trees in the forest, Sonya let out a yawn of a sleepless night. It had been a while since she had paid Natalie a visit. And to be frank, it had been exactly as long since Sonya had had any kind of human interaction - aside from the rotting meatbags that everyone called zombies. It was a fitting name, really. Who knew that pop-culture would actually became reality one day?

In her traveller attire, which was thoroughly worn but reliable, Sonya didn't stop until she saw the familiar outskirts of the infamous Toxo headquarters in the horizon. It was hot, and a drop of sweat made its way down Sonya's brow, tickling. She remembered the first time she had been around, she had almost blown Nat's face with a Molotov. Glad she hadn't done that, since the woman had proven to be very useful among other things. It wasn't like Sonya had gotten attached to the big eyed brunette or anything.
Small branches crickling under her military boots, Sonya made her way towards the danger zone. She kind of got a thrill of of getting on people's nerves. She hadn't been discovered so far, which she took for granted, being the escape artist she was. Besides there were lots of benefits to camping close to a group's headquarters. It meant mediocre protection from zombies, more resources for food, and all the good stuff without any of the cultish commitment, or whatever. Groups weren't Sonya's thing anyway. Not anymore.

Reaching the property line, Sonya kneeled down on their usual messaging spot along the fence. There was that old shoe there, worn and by all means not very suspicious at all. Slipping a note inside the boot, Sonya shimmied it on the other side of the fence, where it was left partially hidden by the long grass. 'Meet-up at the usual place. Dunno when I'll leave.' After that Sonya stood up and walked out without being seen. Even if she had been seen, she would have a handy bomb or two in her sleeve to create some distraction. Or damage. But it was highly unlikely since close to no one seemed to be awake yet.

It really hadn't been the easiest week. Sonya had been scavenging around, going pretty far, even, looking for something viable for her to spend her time on. There had been groups of the infected, which Sonya had mostly managed to avoid, but then there was that one time on last Wednesday when things had gotten dirty. She didn't really enjoy ending the zombie's lives, if you could even call them alive. It was some speck of humanity inside of Sonya that still saw people with lives, hopes and dreams when she looked at them in the eye and shot them. That's why bombs were nicer. It was a beautiful booming sound, a lot of light and fire, and you didn't have to really look at what you were killing. That plus the damage splashed unlike with a mere machete or some shit.

Meeting the rocky hills, Toxo's area still within viewing distance, Sonya plopped down and took out an opened bag of chips. Might as well eat, she thought. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, after all.

[Zoey Boey]

lauren watson

"Boop."

A slightly overweight man with a receding hairline and beard climbed down from the ladder, bags under his eyes.

"Mornin', Laura," He said simply and pleasantly as they passed each other. Laura smiled and gave the fat bastard a smile and wave in return, a smile that quickly faded once she was out of view with him. The brunette checked her bun, raising both of her bare arms to check it wouldn't come undone. This act of raising her arms increased the tension in her blue tank-top, raising it to just abover her navel, revealing the bottom part of her well-toned torso. Not modest at all, Laura didn't adjust her clothing and looked up at the wooden ladder that lead up to the watch tower.

The black leggings she wore made it easy to climb to the top, her boots having plenty of grip. The home-made wooden ladder was smooth and splinterless, allowing her to climb it with her un-gloved hands. Reaching the summit with a grunt, Lauren saw the bolt-action rifle leaning up against the inner wall of the watch tower, the sun behind her glinting off of its metal bolt. Next to it were a pair of binoculars looped around a peg, and finally, a folding chair to sit on.

Letting the rifle lay, Laura took a seat and unhooked the binoculars, adjusting them so they fit her face instead of that other guy she already forgot the name of. She kicked off her boots and wriggled her toes, getting comfortable. The morning sun was at her back and she could feel it begin to warm her neck, but she didn't mind. Looking through the binocs, she once again scanned the area surrounding the borders of Toxo. No activity, as usual. There might be some zombie scrabbling around in a basement, or some cat making a mess somewhere, or maybe some random useless straggler survivor around (and there was, though not to her knowledge), but overall there were no real threats. No horde of freaks or bandits, or anything.

The morning sun raised to a more comfortable position, and Lauren glanced back at the ranch. She could see the Southern house very clearly from her watch tower, the previous watchman having since vanished into it to get his sleep. Lauren had been the night watchwoman before and it mostly involved looking for light sources and scanning the lit-up walls for hordes. There was a lantern up here for the night person but using it was discouraged as some worthless parasite could take a pot-shot.

That being said, Lauren wasn't much safer at day. Sure, she could see everything, but she day dreams about what would happen if someone just shot her from cover. Could she climb back down? Would it better just to stay up? Obviously she would use the radio to contact for help, but that was only if she wasn't incapacitated.

Still, it was a good job. Running and scouting was fun and all, but it's nice to take a break and have an easier job for a month or two. She wasn't good around animals that weren't dogs, wasn't exactly an engineer or a plumber or a doctor, but she was a good shot and very athletic, so combat oriented roles made sense.

Lauren focused her binoculars briefly on the inside of the facility. It was still early morning, but the farmers were out and about. Some people got out of their tents and scrabbled to do their menial tasks- probably laundry. Maybe later there would be something more interesting to look at. Standing, she fixed her gaze to the out of doors, looped the binoculars around her neck and held the rifle in both hands, squinting her large brown eyes at the dangerous but quiet outside world.

[Ever]

Alek

Aleksandra starred up at the ceiling of her little shed with a blank look in her eyes. It was as if she had zoned out completely, which to be truthful she had. She’d been laying there staring for the last hour or so, not exactly wanting to get up yet. She’d been up for a while last night since people liked their booze later in than day typically, just like in an actual bar before the world went to shit. That wasn’t why she was still laying there though. She wasn’t tired, well not any more than she normally was now a days. She was just really deep in thought. Alek was the type of person who could never shut her brain off. Thoughts constantly flowed through her head, even when she didn’t want them too. At the moment she was thinking about how Ryder had come to the bar last night and how she had to speak to him in the kindest manner she could muster. Looking at him, let alone speaking to him was always one of the hardest things she had to do. Most of the time she thought she would rather face an infected person than speak to that horrid man.

It was hard to get his irritating smile out of her head. Picturing it made her skin crawl in such a way that she thought she would scratch herself raw. Instead of she picked up her lighter and marijuana joint from where they sat next to her cot and quickly lit it. She took one long drag of it before finally pulling herself up into a sitting position.

“Fucker...” She muttered, running a hand through her hair as she got up to face the day. She took another drag from the joint and let out a deep sigh along with the smoke. One thing California was not short on was pot. There were so many dispensaries in the area that she had been able to stock up on it for a while. No one really thought to take things like that when the world was falling apart. Plus people were already hungry enough that they didn’t exactly want to have the munchies when they were already hungry. Alek typically only used it as a stress reliever, along with alcohol as well. It was also good for pain, so she often gave it to people with injuries since they didn’t have a large supply of pain relievers in now a days.

Aleksandra’s green eyes darted towards the door when she heard someone bag on it loudly. She had just thrown on some new clothes and was going to head to the cafeteria for some breakfast. She didn’t know the exact time of day it was, but she sure as hell knew it was too early for people to want to drink.

“What the fuck do you want?” She said opening the door.

A rather large man with a bald head was standing there with deep circles under his eyes. It looked as if he had just gotten off a night watch shift. “Let me in. I need a drink after that boring ass of a night. “ He said.

“It is too early for that Mason. Go sleep the night off. Your face looks like you need that more than a drink from me.” Alek closed the door behind her and locked it up, not caring about the look she was receiving from Mason. “Plus I want to eat, so no service for you. “

“Come o-“ She cut him off before he could finish.

“No,” Alek said. “If you go lay down you’ll be asleep before you can even think about a drink.” She walked past him towards the cafeteria, puffing her joint as she walked. Alek could hear him call her a bitch after she had passed by him, but the words barely even phased her, not much did anymore.

[apathy]

"The time is 0800." intoned a soft, automated voice. Emilio had already been up for several hours; having risen with the conscripts to join them on their morning 5km circuit. This new world made great demands of those that survived and it was his obligation to prepare the recruits for what lay ahead. Most of them were too young to remember much of the old world; a small mercy.

Crossing his quarters, he stood before the small window that overlooked the training courtyard. Emilio sipped lukewarm coffee from a dented mug, its dull exterior a perfect match for the liquid within. He longed for coffee that wasn't instant; hopefully some would turn up during the next supply run.

Emilio observed impartially as the training class separated into pairs to simulate fighting off an infected assailant. Drill Sergeant Klein stepped between sets of struggling students, stopping sporadically to make corrections.

He turned away from the window and returned to the task at hand. A map of Monterey County lay on his desk with notes pinned to each area that Parris Security had already explored; detailing areas of interest and observed threats. The target of their next raid would be his decision; never one he took lightly.

Emilio gathered up the map as well as a folder containing the latest inventories and placed them inside a satchel. Removing the olive drab BDU from the back of his chair, Emilio slipped on the short sleeve shirt and gave himself a brief glance in the mirror. Satisfied, he took the satchel in hand and left his quarters to meet with Parris

[dragonbutts]

location ➤ main house
interactions ➤ natalia (@Aamaya)
»»————-　☠　————-««

The sky was a black canvas, the rising sun a paintbrush that transformed the darkness into brilliant hues of colors. The paint bled into the canvas beneath, colors leaking into the trees, the ground, the lake. Slowly, the world was painted, being brought to life with an array of colors. The birds provided a gentle song as the world came to life, and Ryder witnessed it all through a haze of smoke, the taste of bitter coffee and smooth nicotine on his tongue.

Ryder had never slept much before the outbreak, and he slept even less after. He always found himself on the back porch overlooking the lake, a cup of hot coffee warming his hands, cigarette smoke filling his lungs. Almost every morning, he had this view, something that helped center and prepare him for the day ahead. The caffeine and nicotine probably had something to do with it, too, in all honesty.

His coffee cup was empty by the time the painting was done, all the colors in place. He flicked his finished cigarette into the empty mug. He didn't like seeing cigarette buds all over the place, something he had made clear to the other smokers of the group. He got up from the lounge chair, stretching his arms over his head, and breathing in the fresh air. The top of his robe splayed open, revealing his chest, but he didn't bother closing it. Living in close quarters with his tight circle meant he had seen some of them he never wanted to. At least he had boxer-briefs on.

Though, he knew nobody else would be up at this hour. At least, not anybody but the ones on shift for the watch towers. He made sure nobody saw him like this. Half-clothed, relaxed, with no weapons or dark colors on his body. He didn't want anybody to see him in such a vulnerable state like this. Ryder walked inside, not seeing anybody up at this hour as usual. He knew soon enough, the house would be a little more full. Besides his tight circle that lived here, he also allowed lower members of the group into the house. He didn't very much mind others trickling into his house, though his master bedroom and private bathroom were strictly off limits. So was his lounge chair on the back porch. That was his favorite chair outside, and it was his.

His shower didn't take long. He may have lingered some, the warm water beating against his muscles feeling amazing, and because it was his right. He didn't put on anything amazing. A dark green v-neck t-shirt, with his leather jacket slipped on over top. Dark jeans, with his usual biker boots. He had his two daggers in his boots, just in case. He could never be too careful, even within his own walls. Naturally, he had his favorite weapon, his bat, on him at all times. He had to keep up an image, after all. As he made his way downstairs, he heard some activity in the kitchen. He ignored it, in favor of stepping onto the front porch. He had to start doing his rounds, checking in on everybody, making sure everything was running smoothly.

When he stepped out onto the front porch, he grinned big at the sight that greeted him. "Well, well, well," he said, upon seeing Natalia sitting on the edge of the front porch. "Didn't expect to see you here," he joked, stepping down a couple steps to be more at eye level with her. He propped the bat on his shoulder, dark eyes taking the young woman in. "Lose something, sweetheart?" he asked curiously, tilting his head at the backpack in her lap, eyebrow cocking upward. He didn't say sweetheart in a condescending way; towards anyone else, it may have come out that way, but Natalia was different. He respected the hell out of her, and he said it in a way a concerned parent might say it to their child.

[RavensMuse]

Screams, that's the way the dream begins every time..

Grace, positioned atop the snipers nest awaited the next toxo to stick their head in her sights. Exhale, squeeze the trigger with both fingers, allow recoil. The Dragonuv barked fire, and the toxo's head snapped back at an odd angle as gore splattered against his closest comrades.

Where was he? Grace thought to herself as she searched the crowd. Her fiance had chosen the beefy combat shotgun, and putting himself in the front line to show those creeps this was their sanctuary. Nobody elses! He relied on her to keep him safe from above, she was his guardian angel. The battered brown duster with the bright stitched wings stuck out against the fire, steadying herself, Grace snapped another shot off. This time, the toxo's throat exploaded in a shower of viscera. Grace continued this pattern, shoot, load, shoot load, until she heard the same sound signifying her dream was coming to an and. The homemade IED's blinked around two legs of her nest, she prepared to hear the explosion as she watched the man in the angel winged duster fall to the hordes, she wasn't fast enough...squeezing her eyes tightly as possible for what came next.

Instead of the explosion, and the rushing sensation as she fell to the ground, it was a woman's voice...shieking bloody murder

Wait what?

Grace's eyes snapped open as her subconscious reminded her that the event in her dreams happened months ago. Rubbing her eyes as she peered outside her improvised loft, a blown out hotel penthouse. She'd created a makeshift sanctuary by unbolting the stairs leading to the floor, making it impossible for infected to get up to her home. Any idiots who decided to climb up, well, her tripwires had a deadly surprise. Yet, someone was going through her territory? Muttering to herself, Grace began the process to arm herself. A quick weapons check, she was still allright, the 1911 pistol, her collapsible baton, slid into a cargo pocket against her hip, finally, she checked the battle scarred Dragonuv. It was her weapon of choice for the most part, it let her be the avenging angel against those dumb enough to wander into her territory with malice. Drawing the sleeveless, slightly scored winged duster around herself, she picked up the rifle and left her loft.

The woman's voice echoed out against the calm, the man refused to listen. "Boss's orders, you are heading to the market." She began to plead, offering anything she hoped would entice the man to not go through with his original plan. As they passed a pair of bright painted wings on a brick wall, her tone changed.

"The saint..." She muttered softly, the bandit looked at the wings painted on the wall. His laughter carried even farther then the woman's shrieks. Grace's ears rang as she settled on a point to set up her shot.

"The saint? It's a myth! Some fake angel made up as a sign of good luck and protection! He drew out his shotgun and aimed it against the wall with the emblem painted on it. As he squeezed the trigger, a second shot rang out. The man's head snapped forward, spinning his body around and collapsing into a heap. The woman shrieked again, trying to get away from the recently de-brained corpse.

As Grace stepped her, she pushed a lock of brown hair out of her eyes and gave the man a once over to confirm he was dead. She drew a small pocket knife from her pocket, and cutting the woman loose without saying much more. Afterward, Grace turned her back to the woman and began to field strip the bandit's possessions. The woman looked at Grace, and focused on the stitched wings on the back of the brown duster. "Wait, you..you're the saint?" She asked incredulously.

Grace continued to strip the man of his valuables, and nodded. "Best get going before the infected show up. You two weren't quiet..."

The woman stammered for a moment as she composed her thoughts. "Wait, your a hero, you are supposed to help right... My husband, he was caught by them. He left me when I fell through some rotten boards." Grace's grey eyes snapped up as she turned to address the survivor.

"He left you, he's either at the markets, shot, or dead. You need to go," Grace turned away from her, loading a fresh bullet into the chamber of her dragonuv.

"HELP ME!" She shrieked, almost begging.

Grace groaned, cursing softly to herself. "There's a PMC company North of here. Keep to the open areas, watch out for cars, and bandits are loud and usually drunk. Toxos', well, if you find them, I wish you luck. If you get there, tell them you met me, and how you got there. They'll let you in...probably." Grace muttered as she walked back to her hotel slash perch.

She honestly wasn't sure what the PMC's thought of the entire "Saint" myth, mostly survivors that she ran into while scavenging for supplies. She'd often taken bandits out, painting a white set of wings in areas she had covered. Whether it helped, or just gave them a good way to find her, was yet to be seen.

Sighing one more time, Grace grumbled as she saw the woman nervously plod away. Her sniffling worried Grace, she was a scavenger, she'd be a really horrible one. "Hey," Grace called out.

The woman looked nervously towards her again, Grace cursed as she hefted her backpack. "It's about a day's trek, I'll get you within safe range of their last known location and then I'm gone." The woman nearly collapsed from relief as she nodded gingerly. Grace shouldered the rifle as she walked past the woman, "My real names Grace."

"Anna - wait! The Saint's real name is Grace?" She asked incredulously, Grace grinned a little.

"More of the fan of wrath, let's go." The pair set off towards the last known location of the PMC camp, or at least a group of survivors she could drop this woman off with.

[Burning Kitty]

Carson was in the training facility teaching a bunch of recruits the finer points of up close murder. His sparring partner was one of his best security contractor a former Green Beret turned security contractor. They ran through numerous scenarios. Some of them were intended to deal with a human must were intended for dealing with the zombies. “The most important lesson is situational awareness. If you still have three flags attached raise your hand.” Everyone of them began checking the flags attached to their body. None of them raised a hand. “You are all dead. Just because your focus is supposed to be on one thing doesn’t mean you can focus completely on it and leave yourself vulnerable to be attacked from behind. Practice what we demonstrated.”

Carson returned top side. He walked the wall examining the defenses he had set up to protect the farmers from zombies, they weren’t fool proof they had to leave an opening for people & vehicles to get through and it did nothing to protect against a gunman. Which is why every watchtower had a sniper watching the farmer’s backs.

Carson returned to his office to begin his daily routine.

[essends]

" ᴛʜᴇ sᴀʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅs ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ʙᴜʀɴs.
ɪᴛ’s ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ,
ɪ’ᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ʜᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ. "

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_{Interaction: @dragonbutts - Open to additional interactions.}

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Natalia finally yanked the old iPod out from her backpack, the earbuds attached tangled into a decently sized wad of wire. The sound of footsteps and then the sudden appearance of Ryder would startle her ever so slightly. She provided a devious smirk in reaction to his words, eyes still glued to the mess she held, fingers straining to loosen each knot that the pile consisted of. After absorbing his question she would glance upwards, presenting the iPod and knotted earbuds in reply. "This hot mess here.. This is what I was digging around for, buuuut... I don't think I'll be able to get this untangled." Natalia frowned dramatically, shoving the device back into her worn out backpack. "I'm usually not around the house this early, I tend to go scavenging around this time, but today was a late start." She would shrug her shoulders nonchalantly, recalling her minor breakdown prior. Natalia would soon heave herself to her feet, backpack hanging sluggishly over one shoulder. Her eyes would examine Ryder for a moment, one hand finding its place rested atop her hip. "What're you doing up Mr. Hooper?" A perky tight-lipped grin would play at the lithe girls features, the apple she had previously retrieved embracing her lips, nipping an ample portion from the fruit. "Up to no good I suppose?" Natalia would then pat his shoulder before leaping off the porch, walking backwards carelessly as she continued speaking. "Don't let me stop you mister, catch 'ya later!" The words rolled off her tongue laced with exuberant playfulness, her accent increasing the more she spoke. That frequently happened when the woman was at ease, especially when she was giddy. Natalia would end the interaction with a wink, the hand that gripped the apple providing a sloppy salute before she would spin on a heel to saunter off further into the compound.

She would wave to those she passed, sometimes mustering a polite smile. She had no intention to mingle with anyone further, she had places to be.. Sonya to see. Watchful eyes would scan her perimeter, slinking off towards the barricade. Natalia knelt down, disposing of her apple to the side to replace it with the worn boot casually resting inside the Toxo residence. She would offer another glance over her shoulder, assuring nobody was peering her way as she examined the words written on the old crumpled paper she had retrieved from the boot. Once the message had been noted, the paper was tucked in a pocket, a swift toss launching the boot up and over the fence, a thud confirming its landing. Natalia would abandon her spot at the fence, patting each weapon holster to ensure they were fastened in securely. Arriving at the Toxo entrance, Nat would request the men guarding it to allow her access outside. They were of course reluctant initially, but upon realizing it was Natalia would allow her to leave. She thanked her position, it hadn't been easy to get where she was. She recalled the trauma she had endured to get to the title she was at. Countless tasks performed in order to ensure Ryder trusted her enough to permit her a taste of the luxuries he held.

Once a adequate distance away from the Toxo base, Natalia made sure to become much more aware. Her mental daydreaming coming to a halt, ears perked, eyes jolting this way and that. Every rustle or snap of a twig would jerk her head in the designated direction, heart drumming rhythmically against her chest. The travel ahead would be strenuous, the assigned rendezvous an extensive trek in order to ensure no Toxo members stumbled upon the location. Natalia would run into no prominent threats, having to execute only one infected who proved to be an immediate threat. It was a swift, discreet kill. Using her blade rather than her gun in order to conceal her whereabouts. The journey consisted of travelling through heavily wooded areas, rocky slopes, jagged footing making it a grueling task. But Natalia had done it time and time again, she had run through this area years ago when she had initially been recruited to Toxo. The memory was one she attempted to mask due to the violent nature of it. She had been out for revenge on Toxo after a group of their raiders had mugged and beaten her. She was a loner then, having little to offer to the persistent thieves. Her attempted to assassinate a member had failed, having no training whatsoever made her incapable of really defending herself... So she ran. They followed with extreme perseverance. Ultimately hunting her down, dragging her back to their base. Natalia had resisted every order, reluctant to answer the questions rapidly thrown her way. What she had done was looked at as punishable by death, while the group had wronged her first, she had attempted murder on one of their members.. And death nearly came, however her pleads and the offer to aid them with medical training as well as toxicology knowledge, spared her life. Natalia would spend months, her position resembling that of a prisoner. She was treated poorly by group members, her resistance to cooperate becoming her downfall. When she finally submitted to the groups rules and regulations, she began her journey building trust. The girl changed immensely, once meek, and soft spoken, solidifying to someone who would tolerate no bullshit. Natalia would go on to execute the more gruesome tasks, proving her loyalty time and time again before Ryder would trust her and grant her access to the opulence Toxo had to offer..

A shake of her head would stir her from her thoughts, having completely lost track of reality. She analyzed her surroundings, readjusting the grip she hand on her blades hilt. She had successfully reached the end of the toughest part of the journey, now standing upon much flatter land, grass being replaced with dirt. In the distance she could see houses, the city way off beyond them. Sonya and Natalia normally met within the suburbs, a house they had claimed as their "sanctuary" providing a short absence from reality. "Finally..." She would exhale, taking great pleasure in the fact that the rest of her walk would likely be smooth and facile. All she had to do now was trail through the neighborhoods in search of their assigned house.

---

---

[Raylah]

Kate

“There’s a problem with the potatoes.”

Kate giggled. Sure, the world had been run over by a horde of flash-eating zombies, but she is dealing with the real problems – the potato problems. “All right, I’ll take a look.” She headed over to the field where potatoes were grown this year, she could see an elder couple standing there, clueless. She would always get the old and weak to work her fields, the rest were either out scavenging, training or on guard duties. Kate didn’t mind, older people usually knew their way around gardening and planting things, or at least were willing to learn. It was the young who barely remembered the world before the disaster, who thought there were some mysterious trees which produced bean cans and MREs. Sadly, Mr. and Mrs. Bryant were incredibly rich before the outbreak (the fact that they stated to everyone who was still willing to listen to them), and had servants fulfilling most of their needs. When they joined Parris Security, they seemed deeply offended by the fact that there is some work expected from them, let alone hard manual labor. They have already been positioned on multiple spots like laundry duty or helping out in kitchen, but always managed to complain for so long that the person in charge had them transferred somewhere else. Kate had to put up with them for over four weeks now, and they seemed to produce more damage than actual work.

“So, show me your potatoes,” she told them, ignoring their miffed looks.

“We have no idea what happened. Perhaps it is some kind of a disease?” Mrs. Bryant pointed towards the row.

Kate frowned and kneeled beside the plants. Any kind of disease that could spread to the rest of her carefully nurtured crops was very dangerous. The green top of the plant looked fine, it had already started to dry out which was the sign the potatoes are almost ready to harvest. The dirt was dug aside to reveal the tubers. Kate reached for one to examine it up close and then laughed with a bit of relief. “Yes, this is indeed a dangerous disease. It’s called ‘the mice’.”

“The what?”

“The mice. You know, the tiny rodent with teeth,” Kate used bent her fingers next to her mouth in an attempt to show what a mouse looks like. “They must be pretty hungry to go after the potatoes, they usually prefer other vegetables. By the holes in the ground it looks like there is just a few of them, seems like they only picked this one plant.”

“But… what are we supposed to do about it?” Mr. Bryant scratched his badly sunburnt head – he would refuse to wear any kind of hat or a scarf, claiming the he doesn’t want to look ridiculous.

“I have no idea, I’m a fucking botanist, not an exterminator. Go file up a requisition for a cat or something.” She turned to leave, giggling quietly imagining them actually go to the supply officer to ask for a cat. In the normal days, the mice could turn into a problem, but nowadays as the nature slowly took back over the world, the increased numbers of bird of prey and other predators kept the rodent population on a manageable level.

Exhausted by the human interactions, she headed to her safe place. Over the years, her originally tiny private garden grew to several smaller fields and even a small orchard, that should start producing apples and peaches in the next few months. With all that, she needed a place for experimenting and preparing new breeds of plants. After long discussions, Carson allowed her to take one entire floor in the industrial building and even sent a raid to gather the equipment she requested. Now her kingdom had lots of artificial lights shining down on rows of tiny saplings and sprouts, sprinkler bottles with water prepared at each table, lots of mysterious tools lying around - it looked almost like a lab. And, in all honesty, most of the equipment actually did come from a pot growing lab, although it was put to a better purpose nowadays.

[Cio]

"And the walls kept tumbling down
In the city that we love
Grey clouds roll over the hills
Bringing darkness from above"

Interacting with: Natalia @Aamaya

---

---

Back on the move, Sonya wondered if Natalia had already gotten her message. No, the woman concluded, she's in all likelyhood still asleep. It didn't really matter, though. Sonya was already making her way to their secret spot along the flat land that was dotted by debris falling from the eroded suburbian buildings. Those were the lands that the infected loved the most, which also made it relatively safe from any intelligent snoopers. The wandering zombies were a con, but only a few of them ever had the bright idea of wandering inside buildings.
Making her way through the barren field view before her, Sonya heard something growl from her left. It was a low gurgling sound that was all too familiar to her. A lone infected with a rotten eyesocket approached Sonya slowly, relealing itself from the shadows. Immediately on guard, Sonya's hand flew to the ice pick hanging from her belt. Using a bomb in this area could work, but it would be highly dangerious: Sonya had no place to hide, and the explosion would attract more company than she needed. This was exactly the kind of situation Sonya hated. She'd have to take the ex-creature down discreetly and up-close.
The infected being came closer, ready to lunge on Sonya and bury its foul teeth into her flesh. Staring the zombie down with a cold stare, Sonya looked for a quick opening to stab the undead's neck. It was the safest spot to strike, since Sonya didn't want to get more hurt than she already was from the past week, but the creature was facing her, ruining the element of surprise. Kicking the creature down and ignoring the sickening crack sound she heard, Sonya immobilised her target and stabbed the ice pick deep into its chest, not stopping until its arms stopped flapping and the disgusting gurgling sound faded away with its last breath. Face stoic, Sonya wiped the bloody weapon on the zombie's own, albeit dirty, shirt. The zombie had nothing on it, which was disappointing but not unusual. She spit out the irony taste of blood from her mouth and continued to work her way up to the secret house unshaken.

Sonya did anticipate meeting Natalia this time. Talking to oneself got pretty boring after a while, and Sonya would have lied if she had said she didn't crave human contact. This, Sonya thought, was a weakness. But it made her feel better in a world where pretty much everything felt like shit, so she took what she could.
Seeing the suburbs in the distance, Sonya unknowingly hastened her pace a bit, reaching the housing area relatively quickly. The woman made sure there were no zombies around, since it would make for a nasty surprise.
Unlucky, a pack of them was hanging around in the middle of the fucking road. However, Sonya was prepared. It didn't bother her using explosives this far away from any major camps like Toxo, which could track her. So she felt relatively safe in blowing off a head or two.
"Boom," Sonya stated with a wry smile as she threw the first lit Molotov cocktail into the mix. Taking cover behind a porch of a random house, she could hear the gurgling of the infected, burning all in flames of her little gift. Let them burn, Sonya thought. It was no use mercying something that had taken her whole world and ripped it apart. People or not, there was no cure for the infected, and Sonya wasn't damn well going to wait around for that.

It became quiet after that. Sonya climbed on the shed of a garage, viewing the world opening before her. The dawn was beginning to turn into the morning, giving life to the abandoned buildings in the area. Someone was approaching from the horizon. This caught Sonya's attention, but soon she recognised the familiar style of her acquaintance. Huffing with dry amusement, she hummed: "Took you long enough."

[Default]

Aaron woke up in a start, at first having a deep-seeded feeling of panic as he realized his surroundings were not the usual living quarters he was used to. However, almost immediately after the first wave of fear, he calmed down as he noticed that he had merely fallen asleep during a long night at the infirmary. Unfortunately, he didn't get much time to rest as two other Toxo members barged into the infirmary, carrying a limping man between them. "His leg's acting up again, Doc." Aaron sighed, looking around the infirmary to guide them to the sleeping area. When he first saw the limited space offered to him, he worried that it wouldn't be enough, but it soon proved to be more than adequate. Directly in front of the entrance was the table that acted as Aaron's desk. To the left of the entrance was the small waiting area, occupied by several folding chairs. Of course, behind the desk was a group of cupboards lined up that housed most of his medical supplies. And everything beyond that was his treatment area, which was filled with cots and small nightstands to hold patient's few personal items, if they chose to bring them.

The two men who had so generously escorted the limping man set him down on one of the cots, before slinking away. Aaron pulled out his clipboard, searching through some of his entries, trying to find how he had solved the man's leg problem before. "Hm. So it says here we gave you a splint for four weeks and afterwards you were fine...until now." The man shrugged. "I thought it was. Maybe it just corrected it for a small amount of time?" Aaron sighed. "Who knows. I'm just a college kid, after all." He looked at the man's leg. "Ok...I'm just gonna do the same thing, but once we take the splint away, you'll need to use the crutches for another two weeks. Hopefully by then your leg will have strengthened and be accustomed to the lack of a splint. You can come back if anything happens again." He quickly grabbed the materials required and set to work.

-----

Aaron held the door open for the man as he hobbled out of the infirmary on his crutches. "Good luck!" Aaron called as the man slowly disappeared from his view. Aaron went back inside, his lack of sleep finally catching up with him as he collapsed into one of the waiting room chairs. He almost gave into the temptation, but fought off the urge in favor of going to breakfast. Aaron made his way across the ranch to one of the three kitchens, the delicious aroma of the cooking food drifting towards him. His stomach growled fiercely, and he sped up a little bit. As he entered the house, the noises hit him all at once. The head chefs were bellowing orders, as others served the plates of food. Aaron snuck a peek at the plates of food, grinning as he saw pancakes and eggs. It wasn't often they got pancakes, but when they did...It was quite popular with Aaron.

[Burning Kitty]

If there was one thing Carson hated more than anything else was government bureaucrats. Thank the plague he didn’t have to deal with that bullshit anymore. He could run this how he saw fit, not that there was much to run anymore, just survival.

He read the weekly updates on their storage.
Food: enough to last for quite awhile.
Medicine: barring any unforeseen illness or attacks by Toxo enough to last a year or more.
Ammo: less than he would like.
Fuel: just about running on fumes.

Carson hated how some of his department heads reported in such vague terms, except the doctor, that one was great. Ammo guy could have enough bullets to wipe out every zombie in the world and it would never be enough for him. Carson usually had to go check the actual inventory on it.

Carson went to find his most reliable guy, Emilio. After searching for a while. “Emilio I am assuming you are going on a run for gas. If you need to siphon every drop of fuel from every other vehicle in the fleet to fill up the tanker truck. Also if you get a chance and can do it safely, the teacher of the advanced close quarters training class would like a live zombie, he says if you remove the mandible and the arms it would make an ideal demonstration dummy. I’ll have the Delta Forces commander we rescued lead a raid to scrounge up some ammo. He says he knows a good place to look that most people wouldn’t know about. Some kind of crazy prepper, a real Burt Gummer type. Whatever that means.” @apathy

Meanwhile out in the wild a patrol from Parris Security on horseback came across two women. Their commander got down from his horse. “Are you two alright? Do you need anything? My name is Dave.” The Parris Security logo on his gear was still very readable even after years of fading. This guy was lucky he made it back the day before the outbreak he had missed his flight he would have been stuck in Afghanistan and he hated that part of the world more than anything else even zombie field America is better. In the distance you could see their handiwork, smoke filled the air in the distance, they destroyed another pot dispensary. There was only one thing worse than a zombie a zombie on pot. Dave and his men were responsible for finding and setting up safe houses for anyone in Parris Security to use if they can’t make it back by nightfall. The safehouses didn’t offer much but a place to sleep without worry assuming you could climb because every safe house was minimum two stories tall and the stairs were destroyed at least half way up to prevent a zombie from wandering in and getting you in your sleep. @RavensMuse

[CaptainSully]

^{TAGS: None}
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Her hair flowed freely in the breeze like a clichéd moment in a romance novel but unfortunately for her there was nothing romantic about her situation. Her clothing had been reduced to nothing but bloodstained shreds and her lifeless body hung freely from the tree branch. The cable around her neck had been pulled so taut that it had cut deep into her neck leaving her exposed chest coated in her own blood. Her only relief would be that she was dead as her remains showed that living in the apocolypse would have been a hellish torment. A cardboard sign scrawled in an almost childlike handwriting read slut as it hung from her neck like some sort of sick joke.

Robert moved the scope of his rifle onto several nearby corpses, each hanging much in the same way as the unfortunate lady. The corpses of men had been desecrated through dismemberment while the women all bbre signs of extreme torture with hints of unbelievable suffering. Rob gritted his teeth hard as he reigned back his anger, needing to keep his cool. He began to count the number of living people in the encampment that lay before him. From his vantage point he spotted a total of ten men, all donning similar motorcycle style vests. No clear markings or insignia were on the plain, black leather vests to give an indication to any allegiance beyond themselves. Either way, they weren't to be of the world for much longer.

Two men stood guard at the entrance to the clearing they occupied with a further two wandering around the forested perimeter. Four other men sat on logs around a small fire while the final two emerged from a tall, domed tent towards the back of the camp. The pair emerged from the tent each held an ankle of a lifeless female body devoid of any clothing. Her body was cut to pieces and through his cope the satisfied grins of the pair were beyond disturbing. Robert was not a religious man but even if God did exist, there was no way he would wait for him to descend from the heavens to pass judgement. Today Rob was judge, jury and executioner.

Raising his finger to his head Robert began to whisper softly, "Team 1...perimeter guards and the entrance...Team 2...campfire...I have the two at the back...on my mark." In his ear two voices came through, "Got it," closely followed by, "Yes sir." Moving his scope so that the first of his targets was in sight, Rob spoke one final time. "Fire."

Robert wrapped his finger around his rifle's trigger before unleashing his pent up anger through a satisfying trigger pull. The rifle kicked into his shoulder as its bipod rested on a felled tree. The bullet emerged from the suppressed barrel of the gun accompanied by the muted sound the Welshman had become so used to over the years. Before Rob even had time to blink the man in his sight dropped to the floor like a lead balloon. His body fell awkwardly into a crumpled heap, blood pouring from a cavernous hole in his skull. The man's partner looked down in shock as he tried to wipe away the blood and brain matter that has sprayed onto his face. Realising what had happened he began to claw at the inside of his jacket, presumably to draw his weapon. Before he had the chance however the embrace of death ensnared him and he fell dead to the floor with his friend. Without hesitating Rob began to scan the surrounding area through his scope, catching sight of the final pair around the camp fire collapse. Soon the voices returned to Robert's ear and each confirmed that their targets had been taken down, allowing Rob to lower his rifle.

To his left was a bag through which he searched, pulling out a long distance radio. He turned it on and began to speak. "Spectre this is Ghost..." A couple of seconds past before a thick, southern American accent came back to him. "Ghost this is Spectre, hearing you loud and clear." Watching on as he saw his team emerge into the clearing below, Robert responded. "Spectre...the Harpies are down. I repeat...the Harpies are down. The Argonauts are looking for the Golden Fleece." The code names were simple enough but necessary just in case anyone managed to hijack their communications. "Ok Ghost. Confirm on status of the fleece when you know the situation and then get back to Greece. Over and out." Rob returned his radio to his bag before packing up his equipment and meeting up with his squad below.

By time he arrived the bodies that had once hung from the trees had been cut down and carefully placed in a line. The bodies of the raiders had been left contorted where they fell ready to be feasted on by whatever wildlife stumbled onto them first. A middle age woman with camouflage paint spread across her face approached with large rucksack. She opened it in front of Robert allowing him to peer in. The bag was filled to the brim with bottles of various pills. "Good job Rook." The woman smiled, "Cheers boss." Stretching his arms out wide Rob arched his back before raising his voice. "We've got we came for. Let's get back." A chorus of voices followed acknowledging the order before the group headed back into the forest to return to their bikes.

"Spectre, we have the fleece. I repeat, we have the fleece. We are heading back now. ETA thirty minutes."

[DeadDrop]

It didn't take long for the base to be set up, of course, it wasn't a base in a sense of an airforce base but more so a base of operations. The farm that the group inhabited had been abandoned by some farmers and then cleared by the group, in the early stages of building onto it wooden fences were erected and later replaced with makeshift barricades. The team set up and began to scavenge with decent success for such a rural area. The 'Farm' became the USAF's enclave.

Organizing with the few members Richie did have he spoke to the group earlier in the morning about new changes considering they have had been there a while and maintaining their position was critical at the moment. "Boys it's clear that we need to establish ourselves as a beacon of hope in the Area. With the bandits and rabid about it's no doubt putting a benchmark of stress on those survive, who are still surviving. Plan is to scavenge what we can and help out the good guys, any questions?"

There were none, the men were ready. Not everyone was a do-gooder and surely there was some resent in the group but it wasen't voiced at that moment. Half the team including Richie headed inwards to the more sub-urban/urban areas to search for people and supplies. The rest held down the fort, building onto to what they could and working on a few projects. One being a few pitfalls, at the moment there was no signs of the Toxo. However, it would be up to fate if that were to change.

[essends]

" ᴛʜᴇ sᴀʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅs ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ʙᴜʀɴs.
ɪᴛ’s ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ,
ɪ’ᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ʜᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ. "

---

_{Interaction: @Cio - Open to additional interactions.}

---

The suburbs were normally quiet, a few lone infected meandering here and there. It was one of more secure areas, but with frequent visits and increase in commotion, infected were sure to catch on. Natalia would shuffle along the paved road absentmindedly, glancing up briefly to examine the houses she would pass. It was a wealthier neighborhood, what would have been neatly trimmed yards, children playing up and down the sidewalks, and maybe the buzz of a lawnmower perfecting a lawn - was replaced with eerie stillness. Every now and then you'd see the gray toned sidewalk stained with a deep brown hue, likely dried blood. Trashcans were knocked over, garbage sprawled out into the road. The houses were entirely disheveled, windows shattered, garage doors open to reveal heavily looted homes. Natalia exhaled softly, it was a shame the world had gone to utter shit.. These poor people that had worked so hard to live in such luxury, left homeless or dead now. It was terrifying, she would have never thought in a million years that zombies would spring from fiction into reality. Musing eyes would shift to the clear sky, the pure blue contrasting immensely against the horrors that were below. It was amazing, as if the world was completely unaware of its unrest. Or maybe it knew, maybe this was Mother Nature's way of ridding Her planet of parasites.. By creating a parasite to bring mankind to extinction. Natalia would scoff at the thought, it was out there, but nowadays she was beginning to believe anything was possible.

The familiar crunch of glass beneath boot clad feet would reel Nat from her thoughtful daydreaming, legs coming to a rushed halt. The sight before her sent sickening chills down her spine, not one but three infected had found their way along a house from the backyard, shuffling mindlessly into the driveway a good few feet before Natalia. The monsters were blind to her presence, she had thankfully caught them off-guard, their eyesight too poor to detect her. However she knew the clock was ticking, at any moment the small triage could catch her scent, or worse yet.. hear her. Natalia's chest heaved rapidly, eyes darting around the neighborhood for some kind of sanctuary, that's when she would spot her friend, Sonya, sat atop a shed and now looking in her direction. It was clear the infected were out of Sonya's view, a large bush and tree near the sidewalk blocking their presence. Natalia would raise her arms at a painfully slow rate, holding her palms flat in a "stop" motion towards Sonya. The petite brunette would then motion carefully to her side where the infected were located, hoping Sonya understood her predicament. Natalia knew there was not much Sonya was capable of doing in such a situation, if she made noise to attract them, they would rabidly attack anything near, putting Natalia at a greater risk.

Natalia would stay frozen in her spot, perspiration speckling her forehead. She would watch the trio of infected stop and scan their environment, attempting to detect any living being. The silence would suddenly be interrupted once more, Natalia would squint her eyes, her expression falling almost immediately. The naturally olive toned girls face would grow a ghostly white hue at the sight that she was soaking in. Coming from the backyard the initial infected she had spotted originated from, was a slow forming horde. It was clear the trio of zombies had made enough noise while making their way to the driveway, that any other infected in the area had been drawn in and were now clashing and clattering their way through fences and yards to get to the approximate area. Natalia's mind would grow still, fear muting her thoughts. She was in a hell of a position and knew the smallest sound would end her life. Teary eyes would glance back towards Sonya who was just up the road, Nat would shake her head rapidly in a "no" as if to show she had no idea what she was going to do. Sonya would likely be aware of the situation by now, the intensifying sound of motion emitting from the backyard and neighboring yards an obvious sign of a growing horde.

Natalia would come to a crouch as quickly and inaudibly as she could, a shaky hand grasping a rock by her feet. She would stand once more, gulping down the urge to cry before chucking the rock as hard as she could at the house behind her. The rock would slam against the metal of the garage, ricocheting off before tumbling across the road. At the same instance Natalia would take off in a sprint towards Sonya, the infected that were previously ahead of her to her side, now running vigorously towards the sound behind her. She would continue to run forward before having to veer off at the sight of another infected emerging from the side of a house ahead of her, blocking her ability to get to Sonya. The neighborhood was alive with guttural growls and rabid snarls, what was a mere three zombies was beginning to grow into a immense threat. Natalia had veered off the road to escape the emerging infected, running to the opposite side of the street that their "sanctuary" house was located. She would slip between two houses and disappear into their backyard, running as quickly as she could, heaving herself over the backyards fence, nearly stumbling as she landed. Natalia got up and resumed her running, exiting the neighborhood to end up on a sidewalk along a main street. She was coming dangerously close to the city, somewhere she had no place being alone. The city had an overwhelming amount of infected, but the neighborhood behind her did too... Natalia slowed her running to a walk and then stopped completely. The road was silent, the infected that had sensed her no longer following likely due to hearing a noise more in their proximity. She would pant heavily, choking out a troubled cry. What if Sonya had been overrun? What if they somehow got onto the shed with her? Natalia shook the thoughts away and kicked back into survival mode, eyes darting briskly over her surroundings. As far as she could see, this area had no infected present, most of them were presumably attracted to the prior commotion. A trembling hand would wipe away tears, her feet shifting to walk haphazardly forward, steps cautious and expression wary.

---

---

[Cio]

"And the walls kept tumbling down
In the city that we love
Grey clouds roll over the hills
Bringing darkness from above"

Interacting with: Natalia @Aamaya, open for interactions

---

---

Something was terribly off. Sonya's half-assed smile turned into a frown as soon as she saw Natalia motion at her in a stiff way. What was going on? There was... there was no one here, was there?

The scene unfolded in a horrifying manner before Sonya's eyes. The gurgling sound of the infected multiplied, and it soon dawned on her that Natalia was in grave danger. Shit.
Unable to do anything but watch - bombs could hurt her friend so they were useless - Sonya stood frozen, looking as Natalie tried to come up with a solution. She was clearly feeling panicked, and Sonya didn't blame her one bit. How hadn't Sonya seen this coming? She was a moron. Fucking idiot, she was.
Like a chain reaction, Natalia threw a rock, attracting the zombies' attention, while simultaniously darting towards Sonya's location. Careful not to make a sound, Sonya scooted closer to the edge of the shed, trying to figure out a way to help Natalia. She couldn't let her get hurt. She couldn't.
When a trail of zombies closed the path to the shed from Natalia, the brunetter ran out of the line of Sonya's sight. Sonya panicked herself, not that she would admit it to herself, making herself act without thinking. In cold blood she jumped down from the shed, bombs in hand. She was going to fucking end these bastards. If they would do so much as to lay hand on Nat, she would blame herself.

Boom. Flames were hot near Sonya's face as she ran, following the trail of infected running ahead of her. Sonya's hand trembled in anticipation as adrenaline flowed through her veins, heightening every one of her senses. Now the zombies had spotted her too, and tried to get a hold of her. She evaded, skirting through a window of a shack of a house. Something sharp sank into Sonya's bicep, making her growl in pain. Looking back, she saw the sharp shards of glass sticking out from the frames of the broken window, making it pretty apparent what the source of her injury had been. It didn't matter right now. She couldn't stop running, trying to track Natalia. Where the fuck had she gone?
Explosions went off left and right as fast as Sonya could light her bombs. She was running out soon, she knew it, but it didn't matter. Something had to be done. Reaching the end of the suburbs, slightly out of breath, Sonya's eyes darted around frantically, finally landing on Natalia. She had seemingly escaped the infected, but Sonya wasn't sure if the woman had hurt herself while running. Raising her non-injured hand in a salute, Sonya waited if the woman would notice her. This was the absolute worst place to be right now, no place to hide and zombies all around them, waiting for a free meal like them. Sonya jogged closer to Natalia, wiping the ashes from the flames on her sleeve, only smudging the thing on her cheek more.
"Hey," Sonya said in a rough voice. She didn't have it in her to throw a half assed insult at Natalia for not being more careful. This had been mostly Sonya's fault for not being more aware of the situation, after all. "We should get going before they spot us," Sonya continued, taking Natalia's hand in a grip and pulling her forward. What a lovely meet-up after a week of not seeing each other, Sonya thought grimly. It wasn't like she thought Natalia couldn't take care of herself, quite the opposite actually, but Sonya would have lied if she had said that she didn't feel protective over the brunette. The woman seemed quite visibly shaken, too. Sonya was too, but she was the kind not to show it. It was easier to lock things up inside.

[RavensMuse]

Grace eyed the man on horseback carefully. Her sunglasses hiding her hesitation at going with the man. Anna almost sighed in relief at the sight of someone in military attire. To her, military meant safety, sanctuary, not running from bandits, toxos and everything else.

"I'm Anna, please, I just got away from some bandits, they were taking me to a place called Market. Is there somewhere we can rest?" Grace looked about as Anna talked about how she was saved by the Grace, the Saint.

Grace, looked about cautiously for any bandits, toxos or zombies that happened to hear her frenzied conversation. She looked as Anna's voice caught her attention again. This woman was too loud, she needed to get into sanctuary before long. Grace pulled the heavy dusters hood up to try and muffle her own irritation at the noise. Finally, she spoke up.

"My name's Grace, some survivors out here have given me the nickname "Saint." Can you get Anna here somewhere safe, I could use some rations, then I'll be on my way." She spoke quietly, and pointedly. She didn't like being exposed this long...

[Zoey Boey]

lauren watson

Lauren Watson had the rifle resting on her neck, her two arms raised high and keeping it balanced across her shoulders. The humidity gave her a sticky feeling across her body, but Lauren didn't mind. She sniffed, her eyes glazing over slightly at the quiet outside world. Breaking the silence, a small flare of bright orange lit up in a far distant suburb. Then another, another, and another. Too far away to hear, but with literally nothing else to look at, Lauren could see the small event unfold from her high vantage point.

"Fireworks. That's fun." Lauren said to herself. Putting down the rifle, Lauren raised the binoculars to her inquisitive eyes. Nothing after that. Either they got away, or being munched on. Either way Lauren was happy- the less stragglers in the world, the better.

At this point in the late morning, her tank-top had ridden so far up her torso as to look cropped. Perhaps it helped with the heat, though Lauren didn't notice. After a few minutes of scanning the horizon, there were no more explosions to look at. Shame. Explosions were pretty rare these days- not like when she could turn on the internet and watch action movie after action movie. Hundreds, thousands of people pretending to get shot. Blood, guts, gore everywhere, a determined hero, yadda yadda yadda. One thing Lauren has since learned is that it wasn't as good as the real thing.

'Good' was a strong term...it wasn't as interesting. I dunno. She didn't want to sound creepy, even though no one could read her thoughts. When someone like her has put down so many infected, it's easy to notice patterns or lack thereof, that's all! When you brain a zombie they kinda drop, like a sack full of potatoes. Really ripe potatoes that squish real easy. One of the things they didn't show in movies was how hard the impact is. If someone lays down on the ground, cranes their neck, and then lets it fall it hurts like a motherfucker. Now when a zed does the same thing but from 5 feet or more up, it's a real thwack. One time, a zombie tried to get at Lauren on a scouting mission. It tried to climb over a broken window, but the dumbass tripped and faceplanted hard. It fucking died from the faceplant. What a useless pile of garbage.

Laughing to herself about the patheticness of a long dead foe, Lauren put down the binoculars again. Bored, she folded her arms and leaned against the railing of the watch tower, looking over the ranch. Lauren was looking for someone to talk too, maybe make fun of. She didn't know.

"Helloooooo..." She called out quietly while waggling her hips back and forth as she put her weight onto the railing. Though she was speaking quietly, her clear voice carried throughout the area around her tower.

"Anyone wanna try climbing my luscious blonde locks to get up to the top of the tower?" She said, now jokingly twirling her dark brown hair. Lauren was fucking around on her shift, not talking to anyone in particular.

[essends]

" ᴛʜᴇ sᴀʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅs ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ʙᴜʀɴs.
ɪᴛ’s ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ,
ɪ’ᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ʜᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ. "

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_{Interaction: @Cio@Zoey White@Default - Open to additional interactions.}

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The sudden appearance of Sonya would startle Natalia, knife raising to strike but would just as soon lower upon realizing it was her friend. Natalia exhaled a trembling sigh, eyes fixated on the other woman wide-eyed, allowing Sonya to lead her forward. The lithe brunette was usually so composed, being this startled and uneasy was something so foreign to her these days. Since the outbreak, she had hardened substantially. She despised these feelings, fear only led to a situation worsening. Being fearful led to reckless decisions, decisions made from a frenzied frantic mind. Her previous actions had very clearly been out the result of an unclear thought process, while she had skimmed by with her life, it could have easily left Nat and Sonya lifeless or worse yet, infected.

"Wait.. I have to go back. I can't stay out any longer. All that noise and commotion is going to make getting home even harder if I wait.. On top of that who knows if Toxo heard it, they may send people out in search of the culprit." Natalia frowned, halting in her place. Eyes saturated with distress would shift to glance at their hands, she hadn't held someones hand in so long it felt strange. A heated blush would creep across olive cheeks, just barely visible against softly bronzed skin. Natalia would project a sincere simper, shifting to begin the walk back. "Take care and be safe Sonya, we can try this again soon." A sorrowful scoff followed her unhurried words and soon the girl would be off in the other direction, heading back towards Toxo. The journey back was rather uneventful, she had spotted a few infected that had strayed from the horde, but their attention was occupied with a corpse that's remains were spread sporadically about the road.

"Hey.. Sorry I was gone so long.. Got caught up with a horde, didn't get to loot." Natalia called up to the men situated atop the watch posts. They quickly moved to open the Toxo gate, climbing down to check her over for wounds that would be cause for suspicion of infection. Natalia gave a morose groan, the "checking for wounds" turning more into fondling than anything, a swat in response to the excessive groping causing one of the men to wince, cursing at the brunette woman. "I'm fine... You inspected me quite thoroughly.." Natalia hissed, baring her teeth at the man in a sneer. She hoped the group had no doubts about her whereabouts, if so she would likely have been interrogated and if they found her to be lying, punished. Natalia shook the thought off, roaming off towards the main house. Just as she approached, the sound of a familiar voice seize her attention, eyes averting to the watchtower nearest to her. Lauren, that woman hated her.. Their history went back to the second time Natalia had crossed paths with Toxo. Natalia intended on killing one of the members as revenge for them robbing her, Lauren had been the first person she could get closest to. Her toxic blade had nearly come in contact with Lauren's neck when the rest of Toxo members had grown aware of her presence, seizing her before inflicting numerous beatings, questioning her for weeks. The relationship between Lauren and Natalia never mended, Natalia's rise in ranking among the group wedging them further apart. Natalia watched the woman for a moment, hand distinctively moving to the holster that concealed her blade, a shake of her head pulling her back to the present. Natalia diverted her gaze, attention transferring to the mess-hall, realizing the sudden hunger clawing eagerly at her stomach. Breakfast would likely be served by now, she prayed there would be scraps left for her to munch on.

Upon entering the mess-hall, Natalia would be welcomed with the sweet scent of pancakes and eggs, mouth salivating in anticipation. Fortunately, there was plenty left, it looked as if breakfast had just barely begun. She had left fairly early in the morning, the sun had barely even risen, she gathered that the day was still very young. A generous sized plate would offered to her, two pancakes and an egg, sunny side up, placed delicately beside the lush hotcakes. Natalia eyed the plate longingly, redirecting her eyes long enough to spot Aaron sat at a table enjoying the same meal. She beamed, he was a kind person among many ruthless ones within the compound, seeing a sweeter face would always make things more tolerable. "Hey Aaron, how're they?"Natalia placed her plate beside the mans swiftly, planting her bottom to sit. After speaking she would gesture to assortment of food before Aaron, her impatience proving to be too much for the girl as she would quickly shovel a forkful of pancake into her mouth, a satisfied, ebullient moan confirming the foods quality. But that was just the beginning of her reaction to the foods flavor, her hips would wiggle in the seat, head shifting back and forth with each exaggerated bite.

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