Azseth

Looking for Long Term, meaningful RP partner (read at your own risk!)

Looking for one more person if anyone is interested!

Az

Looking for Long Term, meaningful RP partner (read at your own risk!)

I'm fairly indifferent at the moment. Well, maybe not so much as indifferent as very open, so long as it falls into the parameters of the IntChk.

Az

Looking for Long Term, meaningful RP partner (read at your own risk!)

Also, I'm literally looking for ONE partner right now.

Az

Looking for Long Term, meaningful RP partner (read at your own risk!)

Ok, before I get into any kind of potential story line, here is a little bit about me. First, I'm a dude who lives in Michigan. I'm a tad bit over 30 years old. Now on to the other stuffs:

-I'm looking to RP with a mature, 18+ female and want some kind of intimacy potentially. I'm not saying it has to be sexual, but it can be. It can even just be attraction, potential, things like that. I will RP with males, it's just not what I'm looking for at this time, and it would have to be an RP that just really interests me.

-I will only RP on the forum *ASTERISK!*. That asterisk is because we can do posts on some pad/collab/whatever OFF of RPG, but I am going to post it here. If you are looking for something you are not going to post on RPG, then I will decline.

-Obviously, anything posted will have to adhere to RPG standards. My RPs almost always involve profanity, violence, gore, adult situations. Just so it's out there.

-I WILL do smut/adult scenes, just obviously not post them on the site. And those are SCENES, I will not do smut/adult RPs.

-I have a life. And at this current time, my life is a chaotic mess (I am more than willing to explain if I begin an RP with someone so they are fully aware of all of this, but there's no need for me to talk about it in a random and public place like this). This means I can NOT post every day, or every other day--at least not consistently. Some weeks, I may post every other day, some I may post once. I expect to be able to post at least once a week. Again, if this isn't enough for you, I wholeheartedly understand. Just please do not waste our time if you need something more to keep you interested.

-I RP multiple chars and run NPCs to boot. I like it. You do not have to, but it's encouraged. I also enjoy killing my chars, NPCs and random people who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

-I do not want to have an RP where you have to be led or kind of dragged along. I like playing with writers who enjoy taking part in forming things, being assertive, and have fun with it. I am not saying if there is a streak of writers block or something that I'll get upset, I just want to make sure people I play with are somewhat independent and/or self sufficient.

-This is kind of key. I want RPs that focus a lot on characters and them influencing one another. This means that a lot of my RPs for 1x1, I prefer slow, meaningful moments of nothing. So if I am in a zombie survival RP, zombies and fighting humans will be a small part of the RP. It's more about the characters and their relationships. I have no qualms with, and ENJOY, times in RPs where it's several posts that ultimately are characters talking, or walking and talking, or a long drawn out conversation.

-I will not play a character that exists outside of my own RPs. Meaning, I will not play Harry Potter, Wolverine, Joel, or anything of that nature. Also, I will ALMOST never play an RP that is straight out of another source. Meaning, I will not do a "Walking Dead" RP. I will not do a Game of Thrones, Falling Skies, True Detective, or whatever RP. I enjoy all of those, but I like to create things. I WILL do an RP that is in a world extremely similar to things, but I always expect to make changes and additions that make things more "mine" and "ours" as opposed to just taking someone else's work.

Now, I'm generally into anything except "normal" slice of life stuff (meaning I won't do husband and wife, coworkers, bf/gf simply living on a day to day basis) because I want there to be some source of fantasy or something that is outside "real life." I have a real life. I don't RP to get more of it.

I enjoy post-apoc, zombie survival, war/military, mutant/super human, alien invasion, monster hunter. I'm kind of interested in a samurai/ronin world, something "reality based" but with some samurai capable of amazing feats of combat prowess (bad ass fighters able to kill scores of people, but no magic or anything of that nature). I enjoy high fantasy and tradition fantasy (elves, dragons, orcs) but also fantasy without magical influences. For a while, I've been interested in a detective/police force/tactical unit RP.

Uhhh.... I think that's it in a nutshell. Albeit, a very large, wordy nutshell.

I'm a firm believer that time is the most valuable thing we have. So don't waste mine, and I won't waste yours.

Feel free to drop a PM my way, or say something here. If you've made it this far, thank you for your time!

Go easy.

Az

Surviving: The End.

We need to get Saber/Jake grouped up with a(some) Walker(s).

Az

Surviving: The End.

FRESH MEAT! GET THE TAR AND FEATHERS!

Az

Surviving: The End. (character focused, zombie survival RP)

Just as long as Arlear stays out of here, we're good.

Az

Surviving: The End.

This is the head of Chris. It is not a pretty place. Turn around. Now.

You can't save everyone.

Chris Darly.

It was interesting how much noise everything made now that man was no longer the dominant species, no longer driving, talking, building, or bustling about. On the flip side of that fact, it was almost always so quiet. There were now no clocks, no appointments, no car alarms going off, or text message alerts. It was easy sometimes to drift off and lose perspective or drive. Being witness to the world now and how it had changed along with how it changed those still alive was hard. It was even harder when you were alone for long periods of time.

Chris struggled with finding motivation right now. He laid on the second floor of the abandoned building, staring up at the black and charred ceiling for a few moments before turning his head and looking first left, then right. He looked back up with a sigh and closed his eyes.“Just lay there. It doesn’t matter. You know this. There’s nothing out there for you or anyone. Everything is dead. Everything is dying.” Chris grimaced and ignored him. Always nagging, bitching, or wanting to quit. Sometimes, Chris would just dismiss him, sometimes he’d pointedly correct him, or go point-counterpoint. At this time, he closed his eyes and just went with it. The truth of the matter is that right now, at this moment, Chris agreed.

He closed his eyes and wiggled his fingers momentarily. One of his hands wrested on the 9mm revolver that was laid on his chest. That was the norm: that gun was almost always at the ready for danger, but at this moment, his fingers wiggled on it as he contemplated using it.

It wasn’t the first time, even dating back to before the Rising. It most likely wouldn’t be the last. Unless, well, unless it was his last battle with the idea of punching his own ticket.

Then there was a sharp voice that all shouted at him, even though at the same time, it was a whisper. “CJ, what the HELL are you doing? You know better than that, so don’t even think about it. You DO know better.” He rolled his head back to the left, opened his eyes, and looked into the face of his wife. Even in all of this, she was beautiful and pristine, as if the whole world crumbling around here didn’t affect her at. In fact, it was almost as if amidst all that the world had become, it made her beauty stand out even more. He registered then that her last statement WAS a statement, but it also had a tone that indicated she wanted some form of answer back. “I know babe. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s so hard. I can’t imagine going through this without you.”

She smiled and looked back at him. He sighed and looked back, wishing he could change all of this, give her everything she deserved. Instead, she was condemned to this fate, and that was just the way it was.

His ears perked up at that moment and he stood extremely still, holding his breath. Confirming that he did indeed hear something, he looked to the window and his father waved him over. “There’s activity, come check it out.” He nodded and as quickly as he could move to remain quiet, moved over and looked out the window. He couldn’t quite see yet, but he could make out footsteps off to his right. He knew it wasn’t a roamer. The steps of the roamers tended to be heavy, almost THUDS and many dragged one or both feet when damages. These were plain, good ol’ fashioned human steps.

They walked into view and he counted 5 men who were armed with a combination of melee weapons and a few firearms. They were talking and laughing somewhat casually but what drew Chris’ attention was that 3 of them were leading--well, prisoners it looked like. At this point he started relaying what he was seeing loud enough that he could be heard behind him. “There’s five armed males, melee and a mix of several firearms. Three of them are leading...it looks like 3 prisoners. Wrists tied by rope and they’re leading them. Looks like. A male, two females. One is younger looking, or small. Can’t tell.”

As he watched, one of the men gave the rope a jerk and the larger woman stumbled. This elicited a laugh from the group and Chris shook his head. “Son, leave it be. If they got caught now, it’ll happ—,” Chris angrily waved a hand behind him to shut up. That, below, it wasn’t right. It disgusted Chris. In this world, people should be helping one another. They should be sharing and aiding. And that girl, she wasn't even an adult, he could tell.

He did the math though. Five on one. Those were not good odds at all. Regardless, he pocketed the handgun, picked up his rifle, making his way downstairs. He wasn’t worried about the men coming in here, Chris generally selected building that were noticeably destroyed, burned, or extremely dangerous. People tended to check places that LOOKED worth looking inside of. You didn’t stumble across too many people thinking HEY, let’s go check out what’s on the second floor of that burnt out, shell of a building.

He made his way down and slowly stalked to the window. He peeked, the group walking no more than 15 feet, moving to his left. He looked behind him quickly and his father was shaking his head disapprovingly, but saying nothing. Chris looked back outside and listened.

“...to get this fine thing inside and get down to business. And don’t worry Timmy, I’ll leave some left for you when I’m done.”

The hooded man then said something that Chris couldn’t make out because of the hood, but it seemed the other men heard it, because one of them walked up and kicked the legs out from under him. The man fell, hard, and then got another kick. There was confusion then as the men laughed and talked about killing the man and raping the women while the women pleaded for freedom or not to hurt the man. “Son, you have exactly 76 rounds. Is this worth it? You can’t take them, you can’t go with them, you know this. I know it isn’t easy, but this world, it’s cruel.”Then, Corporal Black was next to him, whispering in his ear. “You got this. Do it. Take the ones with firearms first, you know the drill. They’re close together, easy targets. And you’ll get at least two before they react. Make that third one count and you’re golden, Devil. Kill those piece of shit rapist thugs. Look man, someone in this fucked up world needs to do some justice. Be that guy.” “Ooh Rah Corporal,” he said with a slight smirk to his old friend. He moved to the backside of the building which was completely gone from the fire and moved out, taking a deep breath and steadying himself. He looked back and saw his wife, father, and Corporal Black, each of their faces a mix of emotions. He took another deep breath and turned the corner.

Black was right. The first two didn’t have a chance to move, and the third armed man was holding a rope and kicking one of the prisoners, only having time to look up before taking three rounds.

The fourth man got out half of a plea to let him live before he was gunned down, and the last one managed to flee a few steps before taking a round in the back of the hip. He fell down and screamed and Chris kept the weapon trained on him, moving by the hostages and looking around to monitor the rest of the area, checking for other threats. He moved to the bleeding, shot man and just looked at him. The man was almost screaming and you could literally see he was in an excruciating amount of pain. “Please, man, please, don’t shoot me. I...I wasn’t...I swear I hardly—,” he went on quickly before Chris cut him off.

“Shut up. I’m not going to shoot you. You were shot in the hip. That round probably shattered your hip. You don’t feel it now, adrenaline and all.” He took a moment to look back at the hostages and then scan the area before continuing. “So you’re either going to die from internal bleeding, die of infection, get bit, or live and be unable to put much, if any weight on your lower body. Not ideal I know, but people like you should be fucking wiped from the earth. I hope you fucking suffer.”

Just for good measure, Chris kicked him one time in the hip with all of his force which prompted the man to scream bloody hell for several moments. He was back at the hostages in a moment, and the man was still screaming. He removed the head covers quickly and looked at them. They were beat up, sweaty, dirty, and you could see that they’d been crying to some degree. “I’m gunna cut those ropes. You are more than welcome to anything these guys have after I take anything I need.”

The group looked around, slightly confused for a moment before the light of hope shone in their eyes. He didn’t untie them, but instead looted the bodies first. Behind him, they were telling one another it would be ok and trying to be reassuring. The only thing he took was a gerber utility tool, and some 5.56 rounds that he wanted. He looked around one more time, ignoring the man screaming in pain about 20 feet away, he moved to the group and began to cut their bonds as they thanks him. He cut the young female loose first, she was around 16 maybe and she immediately went to hug her father while Chris cut the mother free, then the father.

He simply said there was no reason to thank him and then he declined an invitation to join them. “I have my group, we’re good. I appreciate it. Please be careful.” He moved to the building he was using, told everyone “we’re out in less than five mics, let’s go.” He got his own stuff together and when he went down, he heard his wife. “I am not happy you risked your life like that, but. You did the right thing.”He nodded and looked over at Corporal Black, who was smiling and nodding his head to indicate he too approved of the decision. He looked around, seeing that they were ready to move out and didn’t waste any more time. He stepped out and moved away from the building and in a direction that wasn’t where the other group had come from, but not where they were going either. Gunfire drew attention, and they needed to stay low and quiet and be on guard.

The mother saw Chris leave and held her hand up to wave, sobbing as she watched the lone man walk off without another word. "Son, you're going to have to learn. You can't save everyone."

Please. No one should have to see this...

Please, God no. PLEASE!

Chris moved to the stairs slowly and quietly, always listening. He looked behind him, seeing his wife and the others and held his fingers to his lips. Silence was everything in cases like this. He didn’t hear them behind him and wasn’t worried--they knew the drill. He noticed his mother and father and found it odd that even now while stress and the cruel world aged everyone, the both of them still looked so young.

The apartment complex in the small town was lower end and basic with the building itself being 2 stories. He opted to choose a room on the second floor. It wasn’t ground level, but low enough that if he needed to jump, he could avoid injury. He didn’t spend much time on the first floor, he simply stood and listened for about 5 minutes. It was quiet and there were no signs of human life, so he was satisfied and began to move up.

The stairs creaked a little, but he hardly heard the others behind him as they followed. He got to the second level and looked left and right. Nothing seemed out of place or dramatically different. There was some random trash, a few open doors and some chairs in the hall. He motioned for a halt and listened again. It was a rather uneventful last fifteen or so minutes, but that was how Chris enjoyed it. When nothing was happening, that meant no one was getting injured or hurt or anything of the sort.

Nothing was what he wanted.

He moved from one end of the hall back by himself, quietly and slowly and finally picked a room. It was one on the end and with access to a fire escape that could be lowered. He secured the room and a few moments later, they were all inside and set. Chris took a moment to spread some random stuff around on the floor outside, things that would hopefully be stepped on, tripped on, or moved and make noise should anyone come down the hall. He moved inside, closed the door and slid the couch in front of it. Then he turned around...

His heart stopped and he felt a cold shock.

“No,” he said in a voice filled with panic. “No, no, no.” He looked around for something but it was obvious he couldn’t find it. The apartment was small and consisted of a small living room, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen. He ran from room to room quickly, looking in closets that he’d already searched, same with cabinets and under the bed...

He stood up and felt cold dread and absolute terror. This can’t be happening. “Babe! BABE! KIDS!” He moved room to room again and kicked an end table in a mix of fear and anger. He calmed for a moment and looked at a mirror mounted on the wall. He stared at it for a split second and then looked around again. “Mom? Dad?” This couldn’t be happening. Everyone was gone.

‘They were just here, they were just RIGHT FUCKING HERE,’ he screamed in his head.

He moved to the end table and flipped it angrily, then violently tore the TV that was on a stand off of it and threw it into a wall behind him.

“Honey, honey please. Please, please. I...the kids. FUCK!” Tears started to stream down his eyes and that only made him feel more panic, which led to more anger. “Oh my god, where...This...can’t be real. This can’t be real.”

He moved towards the kitchen and flung the chair and table aside to look out the window. Nothing. “Babe please, please. BABE PLEASE!” The last part was screamed at the top of his lungs and was filled with desperation and frustration. “Oh god. Please, not the kids, not the kids, not the kids...”

It was then that the sounds started to ring in his ears. No, the sounds weren’t heard by his ears, they were sounds in his mind. He heard the violent CRASH and glass shattering. Then the hissing and crumbling of glass and metal. Then the sirens and voice. He heard voices. He ran to another window and looked out.

“Baby, honey PLEASE...I…I need, are the kids…” He felt weight on his chest, his body. He couldn’t breathe. He gasped, but still managed to scream.

The sirens. He heard the sirens. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t block out the sounds and the panic and he started to scream and put his hands over his ears. He kicked at the walls and smashed the mirror.

And he screamed and screamed. All he could here was a grenade, gunfire. And Corporal Black screaming commands. Then there was more screaming, but it wasn’t his own, it was his Marines and then a hellacious hail of gunfire, so loud and constant it seemed like one single sound. It was all around him and he fell to his knees and put his head down on the carpet.

He didn’t know what he was saying, he didn’t know what he was doing. He was just lost, overwhelmed. “Please, god no, please. Me not them HONEY PLEASE PLEASE I KNOW YOU’RE HERE!! I NEED THE KIDS!”

Everything stopped and he heard the music and laugher of the party, then heard the night ripped apart by more gunshots. He heard screaming. “Oh my god, no, NOOO! STOP PLEASE!” He didn’t even know he was screaming, or where he was. He just went into another rage, punching and kicking anything in his way, screaming until his voice was all but gone.

He didn’t know how it happened, or what had happened, but there was pain above his eye and he could taste blood. He looked around the room, one last time, hoping this was a bad dream. A nightmare. He was still crying, or maybe it was the blood. He felt his chest and heart pounding in a mix of rage and pure panic.

Everyone was gone. He fell to his knees.

He was alone. He went fetal and cried.

There was no reason to live. Everyone was gone. Nothing mattered. He pulled out his pistol and put it under his chin. “I’m so sorry. I swear, I’m so sorry. I wish I could...Not everyone. Please, not the kids. Not the kids. Please, not my kids. Please.” He started sobbing, closing his eyes as he cocked back the hammer to the revolver. He was sobbing, he couldn’t even form words. Everything was gone. Everyone. He was alone, he couldn’t protect his family. His parents. Wife. Kids. Family. Life. Everything gone.

He put his finger on the trigger and just said over and over, “I’m so sorry, oh my god, please, I’m so sorry...so sorry, please god, please. Not them please, I’m so sorry.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep final breath.“Honey. What are you doing?” He gasped and his head shot to the side, breathing a sigh of relief through the tears.

Why..won't...you....LISTEN?!

Who's we?

Chris walked through the empty village silently as possible, leading the group as snow fell down lightly around them. He had his rifle at the ready as he moved, finger off the trigger but ready at a moments notice. He could see signs of life around the area in the form of some barely visible footprints, manipulated objects, and things set at angle to allow access to certain windows or ledges. He glanced behind, seeing the group following behind him cautiously. He knew his daughter had gone this way and assumed some of the footprints were hers. That made him a little more relaxed.

He then heard a shriek, followed by a “help!” Daddy! “Help!” He sprinted ahead towards the sound. When he turned a corner, he saw movement and slid to a stop in the snow. At the end of a fenced off alley, there was his Jess at the top of a fence, hanging upside down by her pant legs on some razor wire. Below her were two zombies, reaching up, just out of reach. None of them saw Chris coming as they were all focused on the immediate situation, and that gave him all the time in the world to pull out his hatchet.

While one side of the hatchet was a typical ax head, the other was a sharp, thick metal point made to pierce. He stepped in and swung the hatchet at the ear of one of the zombies. The force of the blow killed it and knocked it over into the other and both of the zombies fell to the ground. Chris quickly dispatched the one that was alive, well, if that’s what they could be called, on the bottom.

He looked up quickly to the fence and said, “oh Jess, what the hell, you should know better. Come on, you’re gunna be ok.” After freeing her Chris looked at her and said “you know better, what the hell are you thinking, we’ve been scared and looking for you.”

The kid took a step back and then asked flatly, “what are you talking about man? Who’s we?”

Chris shook his head and looked around, seeing the group way back in the street, looking to him to see what was happening. He looked back and was greeted with shock as the girl he was looking at was NOT his Jess. He must have been confused? “I. Uh. Sorry.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but, look, thanks. I hope you find whoever you’re looking for.”

Chris just stared at the girls feet before finally saying “if you’re alone, you can come with us.”

The kid looked over his shoulder and around again, and then a realization suddenly hit the girl. “Uh, no. I have, people. Thanks though. Again. Good luck to you. All.”

Chris didn’t look up as the girl went on her way. His head started to spin and a thundering anxiety ripped through his head. He put his hand on his temple and growled, trying to get himself together.

“Babe.”

He stood up suddenly and turned around. His family was there waiting for him. He smiled at Jess and saw some of the others still on watch on the street for threats. “Babe, let’s go.”

“Yeah. Ok.” He looked at the fence and shook his head. There isn’t anything here. What was I doing?

.....The girl had hid in a building not far off and heard the man, although barely though the snow and from the distance. She wasn’t sure if he was a threat, but she knew enough about him to hope he moved on. He looked around, said a few more things and then moved off into the snow. By himself.

Hopefully, forever, she though.

Surviving: The End.

Late October. Missouri. (Approx a week before the RP starts)

Lucy seemed to be in a near constant state of shock for days now. First the facility began to fall, then it did. She watched people die as they boarded a helicopter. The helicopter crashed, and she woke up to smoke, blood, people screaming...She had to be helped out after having her seatbelt cut by Jon. He had gone in several times and pulled people out of the fire, laying them out near where he had put down Lucy.

Some of them were breathing, some were not.

Since then, they’d been walking, mainly in silence.

Before all of this, Lucy had thought she was strong. She KNEW she didn’t have a rough childhood and never faced much adversity. The training for the government security job was the toughest thing she’d been through in her life. Gymnastics was hard physically and tae kwon do pushed her mentally and physically, but none of those collective experiences even remotely prepared her for this. And a lot of the survivors were in the same spot now.

She didn’t understand how Jon and Austin carried themselves. She knew they were injured, but on top of that, they didn’t seem scared or unsure. It didn’t make sense to her.

She wondered if they were all just going to die. There was the cold. Hunger. And...the zombies. She breathed in deeply to steady herself and instead tripped, stumbling and falling in the snow.

She wanted to cry. She couldn’t help but think that some part of her just wanted to die as she felt a hand wrap around her arm and offer help, slowly pulling. At first, she didn’t move, she just stayed there, but then there was another pull with more insistence. “Get up,” Jon said. It surprised her because even though it was not nice or sympathetic in the words, there was a softness to his voice. Maybe not softness, but a lack of hardness.

Since they had gotten to the roof, Jon and Austin had both been leaders. It seemed if one was leading here, the other was leading there. But Jon, he seemed somewhat mean or harsh at times. He would not ask, he would tell, and expect to be listened to. And she was slightly USED to it from her training through the FBI and CIA, having had instructors for years. But he was different. Or maybe, maybe it was things that were different now.

Regardless, when he spoke those words in that way, it motivated her to stand up. She did, and as she was brushing the snow off and moved to thank him, she heard the words being spoken between Jon and some strangers. She picked up her head to look and the moment she did, she made eye contact with the one man as a bullet ripped through his neck. She wasn’t sure how it played out like it, but it seemed as if the gunshots didn’t register until later, if at all.

All she knew is she watched Jon shoot down 3 men, 3 men who didn’t seem to have done anything.

She didn’t talk to anyone until that night, when Jon was on watch. She happened to be close to Harris that night, and the two talked quietly, first just about how each was doing, and then about Jon and what had happened. At some point, they decided to talk to Austin about it, get his position, but Harris seemed to make a point to her that she wasn’t aware of when he asked her, “if he was willing to shoot those people who were trying to help, just to take their stuff, what is he going to be willing to do when he needs what we have?”

Lucy had not viewed Jon the same since she started pondering that question.

Surviving: The End.

Jon nodded and smiled slightly toward Boggs as he approached. He took to calling him Wade in his head, having grown up playing baseball and idolizing Wade Boggs from the Boston Red Sox, even though secretly he hated the team as a whole. But, it was hard not to respect a man who was known for playing so many consecutive games for so many years, never missing a game.

He blinked away the thoughts and focused back on Austin and his invitation to walk with him. There was a slight unease between the two since Jon had shot the three men at the edge of the forest they now walked through. The event took place days ago, but there was not much time to talk about that or anything but essential survival since then. In fact, talk was understandably basic and to the point. Changes of watch. Wake up calls. Get moving. That sort of thing. In fact, after the shooting, Jon didn’t even really reply back to Austin about the shooting. When the Veteran mentioned the shooting, Jon simply shrugged and muttered, “I dunno.”

Austin was also observant and probably realized to some degree that there was something more to Jon. Jon decided he’d chalk it up to CIA training, maybe say he lucked out and got into some GRYPHON security training or something of the sort. Or maybe it wouldn’t come up.

Jon was not in the business of not having plans thought out though. He looked at Austin and was about to mention that they needed to wake the other soon when he stopped. Boggs reacted in turn and followed Jon’s gaze. There in the road in front of them stood someone who could be described maybe as a boy in terms of his slight stature, but the fact that he was out there and stood in the road with some sort of intentions made Jon realize if he wasn’t a man, he was a very capable and confident boy.

“Jon. Boggs,” he began with somewhat awkwardly. “You’re in my clearing.” The man knew their names, so immediately Jon knew he’d been following the group. He had no inclination to respond immediately, so he took a second to study the guy. Male, short, light. Had a bow. Based on him following them and not being noticed, Jon assumed he was a woodsman of some sort.

“And?” replied Jon, rather flatly. The tone indicated he was tired, and maybe didn’t care or was annoyed. Jon then slowly brought a hand up and rubbed his temples and the area between his eyebrows and eyes, attempting to massage away some of his annoyance, or at least it appeared so. In truth, his intention was to see how this one reacted. If he took Jon’s move as an attack and fired, he and Austin would likely be able to take him down with some injuries. If he didn’t react it told Jon that he was not immediately hostile, and also showed Jon he had the advantage.

If this man didn’t know Jon was willing, and capable, of killing him outright then Jon had the advantage--if it came to that. Either way, they had the advantage as both he and Boggs were armed and trained. If only one person walked away from this encounter, it would be him.

As they stood there, Jon immediately decided this man was NOT involved with the three men they had killed days back. While he wasn’t sure how long they’ve been followed, the bottom line is that if this man was hostile or hellbent on revenge, he would have attacked silently and not presented himself in the middle of a road.

Jon shifted his feet so that in less than a heartbeat, he’d be able to shift his wait and leap sideways, away from Austin, making the newcomer have to choose between two targets by creating distance…