[IC] Days Gone By, A Zombie Roleplay

[Vertical]

A hard rain had befallen the camp. The kind of rain that has droplets that weigh something, the type of rain you can feel in your bones. Clouds had gathered. Dark clouds. It was closing in on dusk and yet it was black as night already. A brisk wind had picked up from a breeze and was now blowing gusts through the trees. During the daytime hours the trees were a normal sight, just part of the scenery. But this night had changed them. The trees were an ominous backdrop, they stood taller than usual. The night animals had made their way far from the storm, or deep into their cracks and crevices. This was not a night for hunting or a night for travel, this was a night for hiding. And hiding it would be for those inhabiting the United States Military Refugee Camp, numbered Seventeen. The locals called it USRC-17. The camp itself was large and littered with all kinds of different hovels, homes, tents, and places people could seek refuge. In the beginning there was organization, sections, but now everything meshed together. Tents mixed with the shanty houses which mixed with the RVs and so on. It was a mess, and yet, it was beautiful in it's own way. Lining the outside of the camp was the first, second, and third perimeter fences. The first fence was the first line of defense. The military had spent countless weeks preparing the refugee camp, and countless lives building it. The first and second perimeter fences were made of chain link and were layered. On top of that, the fences were held up by structural support beams that were meant to offset the weight if they were leaned on. The first two fences stood at eighteen feet high and were three inches thick. They stood, encircling the camp, a looming reminder as to what the world had become. The third, and final, fence was concrete and was a foot thick. It stood at seven feet tall, just high enough to keep the Infected from tumbling over, if somehow they managed to penetrate the first two lines of defense. The gates were patrolled by three man teams, ten of them to be exact. These men, and women, were highly trained and armed perfectly for most situations. These teams were not the best defense though. The best defense would be the "Cleaners" that left the camp to clear out local areas and keep the Infected populace down. Now to the guts of the camp. The heart of the camp was a building, perhaps a house at one point in time, now the office of the Commanders. Surrounding this building were streets paved by the foot traffic of hundreds of people. Shanty houses built from plywood and lumber. Tents set up in various locations and of various models. And RVs, as well as huts and other types of structures. Some would recall it as reminding them of the photos they had seen of refugee camps in other countries. The difference was these refugees were hiding from a completely different type of war. In the midst of the chaos that was the refugee camp, near the center actually, there was a large barn. This barn had become one of the meccas for drinking and saloon-type activities. And that barn-bar is where Matthew Clarke found himself sitting. After two years of crossing the country and killing Infected after Infected, he was now drinking beer out of a tin cup. It was degrading slightly, especially considering that he was once a veterinarian and fancied himself as a rising star. Nowadays, however, he was lucky to find a pet to operate on. Nowadays Matthew found his skills being tested and developed on the living form. Nowadays, he was trying to stay alive as a living. This new world had forged a new version of Matthew, but that was just a shell. Deep inside of that shell, his old personality and hopes and dreams still rested. But for now, he would rest and drink at the bar-n.

[gowia]

Taking a sip of his whiskey Jack's eyes rested heavily on the cards in front of him. To his left a skinny wretch of a man, barely old enough to carry himself in Jack's opinion, was smiling and tapping his cards. To his right a fairly butch woman in her early forties was taking a sip of her own drink. Finally across from Jack was another man, similarly built to himself, who was shuffling the deck for the umpteenth time. Lifting up a corner he eyed the values and then flicked the corner back down. He had them, he must of had them with this hand. The bar-n was Jack's favourite past time now and playing cards had practically become his religion. Sipping at the foul whiskey one more time he grimaced, smacked his lips and then pushed in the entirety of his small chips of wood. Each chip represented some of the collateral that the four had all put in. The woman had put in a half full canteen of moonshine (which Jack was very interested in), the skinny man had put in three ornate looking Zippo lighters that Jack believed he had stolen and the man opposite had put in his large bowie knife. All items Jack had wanted badly, which is why he had put in the last of tins of beans, though not worth nearly as much he had gone from the tiny number of chips all the way to a stack that dwarfed the other players. Deciding he couldn't lose he laughed as the woman and man opposite him threw their cards in, they were out and their chips were his. Only the wretch remained. Revealing his own cards Jack's eyes went wide and then shrunk into small slits. He turned over his own hand. Jack had a full house and yet somehow this 'kid' had a straight flush. Jack was not happy and wanted to slap the wretch before his runty hands could touch Jacks cards. As the kid leant forward a card fell from his sleeve and Jack just went berserk on him. Grabbing the boy's wrists he pulled him over the table and onto the hard floor. There was a thud as his skull collided with the wood and he then tried desperately to push Jack off. In response Jack threw a punch into the boy's gut and smiled as he heard the wind rush out. Throwing two more punches, one into the boy's gut again and another into his face, Jack was finally pulled off. He had made quite the scene and he was fairly sure that he would not be gracing the poker tables again for a while. Standing up straight he grabbed his winnings, threw one of the Zippos to each of the other players (apart from the boy on the floor), and then opened up and downed the moonshine. Finally picking up his empty glass, which had been knocked over, he walked over to the bar and sat down. Calling the barkeep he ordered another of the terrible whiskey and mused on his own Jack Daniels that was sitting in his bag back by his bunk. He was saving it for a very special day however he desperately wanted to open up the wrapping and break into the sweet, honey like ambrosia. Deciding the piss would have to do he thanked the barman for the drink and the new tin. Looking to the side he nodded to his apparent drinking buddy and muttered. "What you drinkin' friend?"

[Darkraven]

"Come on, Marie, let me see it." Captain Ishida Hisashi pleaded with his patient, a rather harassed looking girl of about 10, even though what harassed her was herself and the wooden floor. Marie merely shook her head. "I'm sorry, doctor, she's just shy." Marie's mother said, "she actually likes you, Hish. You know how it's like." "Yes, I do." the medical officer replied to the mother before turning to the child again. From a corner of his eyes, he could see the blood seeping through the girl's skirt. She's had a bad fall, rolling down uneven terrain, her leg torn by broken wood, splinters and nails when she finally made it to even ground, "You know, I have something for you..." Hisashi swivelled his salvaged office chair around and rummaged through a cardboard box as he said, "if you show me how tough you are." From within the cardboard box, he produced a small bag of gummy bears. To be specific, it was a bag full of gummy Hamtaros infused with a range of vitamins and minerals. It was produced post-war, if the lack of luxurious colouring and the date of expiry was anything to go by. Hamtaro, the anthropomorphic anime hamster, was wearing a helmet, and gunning down an anime zombie with an inaccurately drawn M16 that looked good anyway. A speech bubble floated aggressively above its head, with indecipherable kanji (at least to the average American) being shouted. "Doctor- You don't have to- It's too much for so little-" Marie's mother, as if presented with a million dollar vase, was shocked at the treatment. "No, it is fine. Marie needs supplements. Her last health screening worried me." Captain Ishida Hisashi defended his decision. Marie reluctantly took the pack of vitamin Hamtaros and lifted her skirt, slowly as she winced in pain. It was bad. Appeared bad. A patch of bloodied skin, the outermost layer peeled at some places. Splinters were sticking out. Sergeant Maiko, the medical officer's most able and trusted medic, could not help but to come forward. "It will be fine. Captain Hisashi take care of you." Maiko said in near perfect English as she gave Marie a gentle squeeze in the shoulder. It was funny that she should say that, considering that the child was surrounded by Japanese soldiers armoured from head to toe, looking like soulless robots, with swords dangling from their sides, and guns stuck to their bodies. The medical officer was the only soldier in the room with his helmet off. The only consistent concession they had made with their full battle order was their backpacks, which were close by. What played out next was less than fine. A bloodcurdling scream could be heard a few shacks over even if it had all happened within a first-aid tent - the medical officer could only be pleased that it didn't travel far enough to attract any of the Kyonshi (as they were called in Japan). A few flicks of the tweezer, a wash of antiseptics and bandages later, however, and it was over. The child had been crying throughout, but she would live to see another day, and certainly to munch on her vitamin gummy Hamtaros. It was certainly not the end of the day, however, even when the sun was dying, even when a heavy rain had stolen whatever daylight had remained. Then a radio call came in from one of the Kyonshikirapeitai patrols. A fight in a bar. One casualty. There was no longer such a thing as a 9 to 5 job anymore, with 24/7 being the norm. Hurrying over to the 2-man team who received the news and called it in, he approached what the humourous locals had called the 'bar-n'. He had to give them credit though, for not letting the grim reality of present life beat them down. It certainly did bring a smile to his face, even as he lowered and locked his visor. It had faded when he entered the bar-n though, as he saw how men and women in low spirits drank to forget with lowered heads. With two of his fellow Kyonshikirapeitai flanking him, he quickly got to the casualty, who was in a daze and leaning against a wooden pillar, probably suffering a concussion. His face was covered in blood. There was a puddle of vomit nearby, though the stench was masked by the smell of alcohol and residual waste. In any case, he was stable, as the bleeding had stopped. All that was needed were antiseptic and bandages. The concussion, however, would be a problem in the longer term. "These Americans." Captain Ishida Hisashi said to his men in Japanese, "As if the dead rising isn't bad enough, they are still trying to send each other to the grave." "What can I say? They're Americans." Private First Class Ichiro followed up bluntly in the same language. The conversation was not continued from here on, as the officer in command found it hard to agree, yet just as hard to disagree. What had set the medical officer off about the violence that had erupted over a game of cards and gambling, game of cards and gambling, mind you! Was that the victim looked to be about 18, if even that. He wouldn't be a man at all in many countries. It had cut a little too deeply into his hope for children living as normal a life as possible. "Who did this?" He asked, calmly, the people around him, however. Violence was not his way even if things appear to require it. There was reluctance around him at first, until a discreet finger was pointed in the direction of a man sitting at a makeshift bartop. Captain Ishida Hisashi's eyes were drilling holes into the back of the culprit's skull soon after. He could tell even from the man's back that he was twice the boy's age. Flanked by his fellow JSDF soldiers, he made his approach towards Jack, his left hand gripping the mouth of his katana's sheath. "You! You there! I need to talk to you." He said, almost shouted, but kept the rage as far down as possible. His voice had almost wavered towards anger. Some of the bar patrons were starting leaving.

[May]

He had to admit he liked the rain. He'd always liked the rain. But here, in the Sunshine State, it was a beast of it's own. It rained when the sun was shining sometimes. He remembered watching old reruns of Nick shows, seeing the bright, sunny, Universal Studios. It was gone, of course, so even though he was now in Orlando from St. Louis, he couldn't see what it was really like back in the 90s. But this rain was nice and dark. He liked that too. He was on watch, even in the rain they came so they had to stand around and keep a look out. He'd left his jacket back in his tent, he only had the one of those. But he had a few t shirts and a two pairs of jeans. So he'd let the rain soak his shirt, which he'd finally stripped off and hung off the back of his pants. Someone new, he was sure, because he couldn't remember their name came up to take over for him, and he happily handed the rifle over before heading back to his tent. He changed into...well at least dry if not clean jeans, shoving a battered paperback book into his back pocket, and pulled his hoodie on before heading to the only place hat served drinks. Even if they always seemed to hesitate on giving him anything. Conrad ran his hands through his wet curls, looking around the scene that was transpiring in the place. A fight, like normal. The number of people in this place had to lead to a fight or two. It was bound to happen in even better times. But the threat of life and death outside the camp didn't ease the tension inside it's safety. He rolled his eyes obviously, even if he would have liked to get a few swings in himself. Pushing his glasses up into his hair he headed towards the counter that served as the bar, leaning against it and waiting for the bartenders attention. He nodded to the older men just down from him, giving them a half grin of somewhat politeness.

[gowia]

Before Jack could get a response out of his mysterious drinking buddy he heard the door to the bar-n slam open in the sort of way that screamed 'the authorities' and self-righteousness. Hunkering down he decided it was better than trying to draw attention to himself. He was sure the kid wasn't dead and fights were quite common so nobody would be lining up to rat him out. Though someone normally did, Jack just hoped it was one of those where they didn't. He was in no mood to deal with camp security, much less those pompous, self-entitled peacekeepers, most from god knows where. Jack had no real problem of them being there however he did have a problem that they had arrived and simply taken over running the camp. No vote, election or candidate to be found. Too Jack that sounded like an occupation, but of course the 'situation' has deemed this necessary. Taking another sip of his drink, Jack thought maybe it was his lucky day. And then he heard the angry voice behind him. The distinct Japanese accent screamed UN and Jack muttered some muted curses to himself. Taking down the last of his drink he spun around on his seat and then sat back. The group of men were imposing though it was a surprise to see the middle one clutching at his sword. Not that peaceful and pretty aggressive too a man who was 'innocent until proven guilty' and one that was offering no form of resistance. "Officer, this may be your first time interviewing a 'suspect', but it's not mine. And I promise you, if you keep shouting and going to pull your sword out you will scare away your witnesses, and that will probably give a nice big wall of no evidence to work with. So how about I give you my version of events, then you tell me your usual sermon and realize you are dealing with the situation like a bloody ametuer." Another drink was brought forward but Jack raised his hand and shook his head. He really wanted a drink but he also wasn't going to impair himself anymore than he had, the world was quite fuzzy now. "See, me and my friends were over there having a friendly game of cards, there may have been some gambling, I'm not sure my mind is hazy at that part. Anyway, then I play a hand that I thought was unbeatable, it's looking like I am about to win and then suddenly the err..." Jack attempted to lean around the hulking forms of the soldiers to try and spot the boy. "...newest member of our game played a winning hand. Now, as anyone would be, I was fairly mad at this point. I hate to lose. But then as the kid leans over to collect his chips a card falls from his sleeve. See he had been cheating to get the win. Now cheating, none of us here can abide, and so there was a bit of red mist. I'm not entirely sure again what happened, probably the drink, and the next thing I know the kid is on the floor and I am walking over here." Jack lent back with a wry and innocent looking smile on his face. "So officers, unless you have any real evidence then can I get back to my drinking? Because if not then I am going to claim witness intimidation 'till the cows come home, that armour and sword is fairly scary after all, and probably get off scot free anyways. Besides, this is some minor bar scrap, why send in the tanks for this? Aren't there other problems? Like the dead. Or is this just because you blue-topped boys wanted to exert your power again. Remind me when any of us decided we wanted you to take over the security and policing here?"

[Nallore]

Tanya walked along the small market place carrying a bag full of groceries that she had gotten by trading a few things that she had in her RV, her eyes going up to look at the sky seeing the dark ominous look about them. Then there was a very loud clash of thunder as the rain started to come down, her RV was on the other side of the safe zone. Tanya noticed a group of Japanese peacekeepers entering the bar which she would frequent sometimes just to get a few drinks for herself after working on the walls. Curiosity getting the better of her Tanya walked into the small building, her eyes going down to the injured boy on the floor being tended to one of the men, and one of the men was talking to another by the bar. It was more of a common thing there Tanya just rolled her eyes and sighed as she turned back around making a run towards her RV, it was a good five minute run to there as she opened up the door and closed it behind her. "Welcome back." Her younger sister said sitting up from the small built in couch, the RV they had managed to get while on their way to Orlando since this whole thing started. "Thanks." Tanya said softly as she emptied the bag to reveal several cans of canned food.

[Vertical]

The scene in front of Matt was one that evolved quite quickly. The veterinarian, though nowadays he was regarded more as a doctor, was simply looking for a drink. When he had gotten his drink, he absorbed himself in it. Apparently there had been a disagreement that had turned physical, maybe not, Matt was not paying much attention, and now the security for the camp arrived. An Asian fellow leading a crack team, Matt assumed. The survivors in the camp needed to focus less on fighting and more on surviving, Matt knew that, so he decided that it would be best to intervene at this point. "Guys, guys" he said, turning from his barstool. "There is no need for this to proceed any further" he spoke calmly when he spoke. "Lets just have some drinks and calm down, please. It's a shitty night anyway, no need for any more drama".

[Darkraven]

Before Captain Ishida Hisashi could say anything to the barfighter, a fellow doctor, Matt, intervened, but he'd done it at the wrong time, wrong situation. What Jack had done had too many implications, and consequences. Without facing the vet, he said to him: "He beat a boy up, Matt-san. He give him concussion." Then, returning the conversation to Jack, he stepped forward, unafraid and with conviction, "I do not care what you think. We bring supplies and medical aid. The American commander give us jurisdiction." Normally, Hisashi had to search hard for the English words; he'd barely passed his English lessons, and most English words he knew were still medical terms and stock phrases, as he needed to attend seminars and tend to foreign patients on occasion back before he was forced by his forebears to take up the sword. This time around, it sort of fell into place. He had more to say, but it all felt like wasted breath. His 'personal guards' flanking him had tensed up, as if expecting trouble. One of them had rested his hand on his pistol. He instead turned to look at the crowd that remained. As if like a jury, some of them were nodding their heads slightly, or pointing a hidden finger. It was obvious that Jack wasn't liked in some circles. "Witnesses everywhere. If I want, I take them. But I make it easy for you." "Half rations for you tomorrow, to pay for medical supplies you waste." Hisashi said off-handedly, expecting his words to be final; normally, it was, "Next time it will be one week half rations." "And Joe-san!" The medical officer, as if having dismissed the case instantly, shouted to the barkeeper who was at the far end of the makeshift bar, "You are late in your delivery of alcohol! We need alcohol for sterilisation!" The barkeeper shouted back in meek acknowledgement before doing a crab walk and fumbling with some other crate underneath the counter, probably the alcohol he was supposed to deliver to the medical tent. With that, Hisashi turned and took his leave, taking notes on his forearm mounted computer. "Ungrateful brat!" The young Private First Class Ichiro had spat at Jack viciously in Japanese. His voice was charged with bitterness; it should be, considering what the Japanese peacekeepers had sacrificed to get to the refugee centre. "Ichiro! Let's go." Hisashi ordered similarly in his native language. Before long, the peacekeepers left the bar after they'd picked up their new patient. The medical officer had many other things to tend to. For one thing, Tanya and her sister had missed their scheduled monthly medical examination, and for another, he had a wounded American soldier to pay a house call to. Not to mention, he would have to inform the ration distribution centre at the marketplace about Jack's half-ration plan tomorrow.

[gowia]

Jack merely looked at the Peacekeeper who had shouted at him in Japanese. He had no idea what the man said but it sounded like he wasn't fond of the Brit. He didn't care for the half rations, with his cigarettes suppressing his appetite he barely ate half of what he was given any way, normally gave the other half to his other bunk mates. Sighing he spoke to the back of the Peacekeepers. "Nobody trusts you y'know! You keep turning up and over reacting to the situation, before shouting in Japanese and pissing off. That only breeds discontent and then, when the chips are down. Nobody will listen. You may appeal to the kids but the fathers, brothers and uncles here. They don't like you!" Jack was partly right, the fact is nobody trusted something they didn't know about, such as the Peacekeepers and their language, and liked it even less when the misunderstood bullied them. The crowd were pretty tense and a few men came over and patted Jack on the back. He had no intention of stopping his behaviour. Whilst a day with half rations would be enforced, but a whole week? No, the commander wouldn't allow that. Rations were low enough as it was, half for a week would be one step above starvation. Turning back to the bar he passed his last drink back to the barkeep. "Keep it fella, those Peacekeepers wanna swing their cocks around a bit, so someone else can enjoy the beverage. I am a man of charity after all." The barkeeps stoney face broke for a quick chuckle before he walked off. Jack closed his eyes and then looked over at his new 'friend'. "So, you tried to stand up to the big bad bully, impressive. Your name Matt yeah? Well just lemme say your friends in blue are fucking bastards. Though we can't all be blamed for our choice in friends. So I wont blame you." Jack threw Matt a smile.

[Vertical]

"Those peacekeepers are no friends of mine" Matt replied. It was slowly turning into an eventful evening. Though he started off swirling a drink in his hand and suffocated by his own thoughts, Matthew was starting to take more interest in real life. The man shot Matthew a smile, a friendly gesture that he had not seen much of lately. "Another drink?" Matthew asked. Regardless of the answer, Matthew would have a drink again. It would have just been nice to have a drink with another person for a change. "I didn't catch your name by the way" Matthew said slowly, eyeing his own half full cup. The man knew his and so did the peacekeeper. Did they have a file on him? Did they even keep files still? Matthew really did not care. Most people knew his name because they were patients of his or knew him as a doctor. Matthew assumed the latter.

[May]

After some persuading, he managed to get a watered down drink. But something was always better than nothing and he turned to watch the rest of the flight play out. Or the patching up, the 'punishing' (as if there wasn't enough damn punishment in the world already), and the talking that lead to no where. He sipped at his drink and thought about heading for a relatively empty table where he could flop into the chair, pull out his book, kick up his feet and start to half read his book, half people watch. Or he could slide over and join the conversation. Or just stand there and see if there was an opening too. He'd take that one. Just wait and see.

[Darkraven]

After visiting the bar, Captain Ishida Hisashi needed something lighter to do, something less tense. So he decided to pay Tanya and her sister a visit. The sight of the young was something he savoured; it gave him hope and motivation. Everything could go wrong, and normally they do, but for him, as long as the children were safe, it would be fine for him. The visit itself would just be a random visit. The only real practical purpose being to remind the dwindled family that they had missed their medical checkup. It was a monthly thing, something that he had made compulsory ever since his arrival. Immediately upon checking everyone's health, he found out that it was severely needed. With survival being jeopardised, no one had paid attention to such things as nutrition, hygiene and proper medical procedures. As a result, half the camp was lacking in one nutrient or another. Lice was common, and so were festering wounds. The American soldiers were far too busy with fighting the Kyonshi that they couldn't do much to attend to this problem; not that they had much in the way of medical expertise to begin with. All they had was a few medics and some common sense. After dismissing his fellow Kyonshikirapeitai, he made his way to the RV in question. After living for two months in camp, he was starting to get a hang of who lives where, which would be important in emergencies. Walking up to the door, he knocked on it a few times. "Hello? I am Captain Ishida Hisashi of the UN Peacekeepers." His left hand was resting on the hilt of his katana. It was a common habit within his unit, but out here in the warzone, it was a useful habit to have. With just his left hand resting on the handle of his katana alone, several moves with his sword would be possible.

[Nallore]

Tanya was over the stove using a can opener to open up the can they were going to be sharing for their dinner, hearing another clash of thunder made Tanya jump slightly. Smelling the food as it started to cook on the small electrical stove that came with the RV when they found it, this was their home ever since traveling between New York and Florida. Maria jumped slightly hearing the knocking on the door, putting down the book she was reading Maria walked over towards the door of the RV. Hearing the knocking on the door she reached for the machete on the counter until she heard Captain Ishida's voice on the other side, Tanya set the weapon down and made her way towards the door. She had just completely forgot about the whole checkup Tanya opened the door and smiled at him. "Good evening, please come in." Tanya said softly as she held the door open for him, when Ishida walked inside Tanya closed the door behind him. "Would you like something to eat, drink? I think I have some coffee I've been rationing for awhile." She offered, Tanya walked over to turn off the stove.

[Darkraven]

"No." Captain Ishida Hisashi rejected the offer, before remembering the more socially graceful words, "thank you. That would be illegal. What ration is given to you is your own. Supplies are limited." He had always had difficulty expressing himself in the language of the land, partly due to his basic grasp of it. All he could do was to state facts, but what he felt and what he thought were constantly locked inside of him. He could state those as facts too, but that would be insufficient.

Looking down at Alexis, Tanya's younger sister, he couldn't help but to crack a smile, "Hello, Alexis-Chan. It is good that you are reading." Before turning back, rather reluctantly, to her guardian. Behind her was her dinner - they were eating out of cans again. In fact, most people were these days. Modern living by itself was unhealthy in some ways, and to live in a fallen modern society would be worse. The 'farm' that was set out would not be able to feed everyone around the year, very far from it in fact. The very same thing that was sustaining them was killing them over the long term.

"Tanya-Kun, you missed your medical appointment today." The medical officer said, concern trickling through. "While you and your sister's last screening has uncovered little health issues, a month passing is a very long time." Bringing up his computer, he checked his digital schedule. After pressing a few virtual buttons and passing between virtual windows, he came upon the right day on his calender. "I have another window for you open two days later. Or I could do it tonight."

Looking at the kid again, he remembered what Jack had said behind his back as he was leaving the bar-n, what some people were saying when they thought he couldn't hear or understand. While they didn't have the power to remove him from his duty, what they had said had cut deeper than that. Looking at the kid had given him some hope. "We will protect Alexis-Chan. No matter what it takes." He said to Tanya as he smiled again at the youngling.

[gowia]

Jack shrugged his shoulders and asked for his whiskey back. If someone else was paying he was sure as hell going to oblige. Grabbing the small glass he sipped at it and grimaced again, the lovely taste of piss filled his mouth. Sighing he looked the man over. He actually had no idea who this was, he had only heard the name from the Peacekeeper. However it was only fair that you knew your drinking buddies name.

"Name's Jack. Brit, born and bred, what about you fella? I heard Matt from those blue-tops, but where you from? It seems like we have all kinds around here. First you got the locals who turn up, me in fact as well, and then those from out of the state. Then. Well. Blue tops from out of the country arrive and apparently we all have to worship the ground they stand on and respect their bullying ways."

Jack winked smugly before taking another sip from his cup, he offered it up to connect with Matt's glass, he was always a fan of knocking glasses.

[Vertical]

The man offered a toast of sorts, Matt obliged. The glasses clanked and the two drank. "Where am I from? Up north I guess. I guess it really doesn't matter that this point because most of my family is gone. If not all of them" Matthew said, but he suddenly changed his demeanor to try and get the self-pity and sadness away. "Brit eh? What brings you to this neck of the woods?" Matthew asked.

Finding out new things about people was always an interesting situation to get into. Matthew found, before the Z's took over the working world, that he loved interacting with new people, as long as they were friendly, and often tried to make new friends and acquaintances. At this point, with all that was going on in the world, having more friends was not a bad idea. But on the other hand, it could be. New friends meant that you cared about people. Whether it be in a friendly fashion or something more. The more you cared the more you were likely to be hurt in the end. The Z's were persistent beings, they usually got what they wanted. Their only drive was to eat, humans was to survive. The Z's usually won.

[Scavenger]

Rain, great for masking your sound. A strange man, whom no-one recognized, thought to himself as walked in through the entrance to the camp. He didn't look like a standard civilian, nor a guard. Some-what like a mix. He wore dark, strengthened leather armor pieces over his t-shirt and pants. He had sneakers that were slightly worn, but could last for still some time. On his back was a large camel-pack, which was when people started to realize this must be one of the fabled Scavengers. The Scavengers rarely came into camps, and spent almost all of their time looting and in abandoned cities. They were the closets one to the undead, and the farthest from them. Strapped to this man's hip was a pistol, that lucky enough, had a silencer on it. Also across his back was a rifle with a decent scope, but no silencer was seen on this weapon, though it was hard to tell in the rain and dark...

This strange man made his way toward an area of commotion, some kind of barn, it appeared. Once inside, a hush fell upon the place. This man, a white man with a mop of blond hair, sat at the barn and order a drink. The bartender was a little weary by now, and somewhat afraid of the man. Not only did he have the guns, but he had a large knife across his chest. When the bartender slipped him a drink, the man passed him a small amount of vitamins. the bartender was shocked, but the man told him in a somewhat gruff voice to keep them, and proceeded to sip on his drink, all eyes on him...

[Nallore]

Tanya nodded at Captain Ishida she did drink coffee often whenever she had it, when Ishida mentioned missing her and her sister's appointment for the month she rubbed her head slightly. "I totally forgot, I've just been working so much that it must have slipped my mind." Tanya answered as she went to take the can off of the stove and onto the counter. Alexis looked up at Ishida and smiled at him before putting the book face down on the built in table so she wouldn't lose her place. "It just keeps my occupied." Alexis answered looking over towards her sister for a moment she forgot about the appointment as well.

"We can do it tonight, might as well get it done sooner then later. Just let us eat real quick, your more then welcome to join us as well." Tanya said looking towards Alexis who agreed to as well though Tanya never liked going to the doctors when she was growing up with the zombies outside she couldn't risk getting sick either and leave her sister to fend to herself. "Thank you Captain Ishida." Alexis smiled as she looked towards the can of beans.

[Scavenger]

Most people started to get back to their games and drinks, but some stayed staring at the man. He looked around, not moving his head, only his eyes, to look at all the people. He appeared to be studying the people. After finishing his drink, he pulled up his hood, covering his face, and started to leave. Someone stopped him before he could make it out the door...
(any guests or people in the Bar-n go ahead if you want and role-play that you stopped me on the way out, I may be willing to do shady work or lessen the power of the Japanese. I might just get supplies, or whatever is needed.)

[gowia]

Jack had immediately taken a liking to Matt. The guy seemed honest, hard working and like he was just trying to make his way in life. Whilst the foremost was not always a boon these days, the rest were respectable enough. Sipping at his drink Jack almost laughed at the question too his origins. Hell, if he had a choice he would still be back home.

"Grew up in London. School was shit so I just bummed around, making some money from a number of less than legal vemtures and eventually my parents got tired of it. Family booked me a flight and sent me to live with my Aunt over this side of the pond. Course I didn't change toi much." Jack winked and then downed the remainder of his drink.

"Anyways, thanks for the drink Matty boy. I shall return the favour someday. Until then keep yourself well." Jack got up, patted Matt on the bag and half walked, half stumbled, towards the exit. He hadn't noticed the Scavenger come in and so was thoroughly surprised as he collided with the blonde haired man. Reversing suddenly Jack spluttered out a curse.

"Fucking hell! Watch where your going." Jack then noticed the gun. "Jesus christ, it is not my night, guard or blue top? 'Cus those are the only two groups allowed guns out in the open here." Of course many others had firearms and Jack had his eye on a nice pistol. But on thw black market they were incredibly expensive and more of a pipe dream for most.