BlizzI'm a firm believer in the philosophy of "Fuck waiting." Or more tactfully stated "the sooner begun, the sooner done."
Az
Azseth Member
Born to Kill
STATUS: So I had H1N1 and if fucking sucked. But once again, I am not dead. 9 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
9 yrs ago
Current
So I had H1N1 and if fucking sucked. But once again, I am not dead.
9 yrs ago
Apparently, I am not dead.
Bio
Hey all. I'm a few sunsets over 30, and I live in Michigan.
I'm a former Marine, currently kind of going to school.
I've been RPing since AOL, so that's like <counts, then recounts, then sighs>, over 15 years.
I RP at an advance level.
I'm pretty awesome, but I'm kind of direct, prickly, and assertive in terms of the RPs I participate in and the people I RP with.
Feel free to drop me a line any time about pretty much anything.
Go easy.
Az
I'm a former Marine, currently kind of going to school.
I've been RPing since AOL, so that's like <counts, then recounts, then sighs>, over 15 years.
I RP at an advance level.
I'm pretty awesome, but I'm kind of direct, prickly, and assertive in terms of the RPs I participate in and the people I RP with.
Feel free to drop me a line any time about pretty much anything.
Go easy.
Az
Most Recent Posts
In
Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
In
Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Exit.
Sshhhhh. Take a breath. Relax.
Stop worrying so much.
Az
Sshhhhh. Take a breath. Relax.
Stop worrying so much.
Az
In
Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Village of Pualmo. Just north east of Brasilia, Brazil.
June 26th. 2015. 0235 hours.
It was a war zone in every sense of the word. Recently, the LNO had been carving out areas of South America, battling cartels and governments, and winning. Eventually, the capital was taken and the US Embassy was surrounded, essentially being held hostage which led to a US and Brazilian led invasion to take back the compound.
Air raid sirens were going off, gunfire and small explosions were constant, and at this time of night, those various flashes lit up the night like fireworks. There were occasional screams, people yelling in the distance, and people running down the streets to flee when they thought it was safe. The smell was constantly changing. One moment, gunpowder was in the air, while the next it could be simply flames. The stink of death was there also, and so was the smell of destruction in the form of dust from any of the myriads of buildings that were destroyed to more or lesser degrees.
The night sky was not dark; it was lit up bright and orange and then riddles with huge, distinct beams of search lights. It was a war zone.
Itchy made his way through the streets, sticking as best he could to dark spots, keeping out of the open as often as possible. He was in Fallujah with Marine Force Recon and Syria with the U.S. Army and both were hellish. This, this was something else. This was an entire city tearing and shooting itself apart.
Itchy was alone, but he'd come here with a group of 3 SEALS. Unfortunately, one was wounded, and another killed, all because a girl with a doll was somewhere unexpected, and she screamed. Since then, the four had been under attack or avoiding patrols of LNO paramilitaries. When pinned down, the two men simply told Itchy to go, that they "got this." Itchy figured they were dead and that they had given him the means to escape the building and get to the target. He would not allow that to be in vain.
He could see the roof of the target building ahead and was about to exit an alley and cross the street when 2 modified Mercedez's ripped through the street. Itchy ducked back into the alley for a few moments before poking out his head and making sure it was clear. He raised his silenced M14 SOCOM to his shoulder and moved quickly across the street. He heard soldiers yelling, not more than 100 yards behind him, but that didn't concern him now.
He moved through the next alley and came to another street, one that was almost void of activity. One would not think that less than 50 feet away was the General of LNO, one of the most powerful and feared men in the world, a man capable of going to war with the United States and Brazil.
The man Itchy and the group had been sent to kill.
He moved across the street and along the front of a building when around the corner came two LNO soldiers. He would have let them go but they were about to turn in his direction. The first shot caught them both unaware as it took one in the temple. The second soldier hardly reacted, but turned fast enough to take this round in the right eye socket. Itchy moved and stepped over them, hardly noticing and not caring that one of those he stepped over was a boy that couldn't have been over 14. The AK 47 seemed to be bigger than both of his arms.
He dragged the bodies inside the building and continued on, peeking around the corner at the target building. Again he was about to turn the corner and make his way to the building when a small convoy of about 6 vehicles, including one armored personnel vehicle, raced up to the HVT's building and troops deployed in protective circles. Obviously, they were there to move the General. Itchy cursed under his breath and decided on a rather simple plan.
He waited for a moment or two, but laid down on the floor in the prone position, the most stable for firing, and he began to relax, finding his breath and focusing. The General walked out a moment later, stopped to point and bark an order that he never finished, because from less than 50 yards away, Itchy fired a 7.62mm round that ripped through the man's neck. The men around him raced into action, a few shielding the body of the General while the vast majority of the over 40 men focused on where the shot had been fired from, and that focus was in the form of dozens of rounds being fired every second. Itchy moved quickly, feeling and hearing rounds whip past and impact homes and the ground around him. He went to take cover in a building but as he was, soldiers behind him opened fire and an SUV shot around the corner and opened fire. Itchy moved to the alley, bullets slamming into the wooden home all around him, showering him with splinters.
He was almost at the end of the alley when he heard the distinct sound of an RPG behind him. He didn't move fast enough and projectile hit a dumpster behind him and Itchy was unconscious almost immediately. For the next 2 hours and 28 minutes, Itchy was held and tortured by LNO members as he moved in and out of consciousness. When asked who he was, he'd give them his name and answer questions. "Justin Beiber. Delta Force. Here to kill Adolph Hitler. Remember the alamo."
Itchy knew he was going to die and was simply trying to make it happen sooner. At one point he blacked out as hit body dealt with the pain, only to wake up to the room being lit up brightly, mainly from the outside via high intensity search lights. Someone picked his chin up and Itchy heard "--of ours" before passing out again. By some unfortunate happenstance, coalition forces stumbled upon the building and breached. Itchy would live. He's also get a commendation. When it was handed to him, he looked up and saw a face. It confused him and he dropped the commendation as the boy looked at Itchy. It was one of the younger boys Itchy had killed, where and when, he couldn't remember. Maybe it was all of them.
CDC Facility, Fort Leonard Wood, MS.
October 31st 2017.
Jon sat up suddenly. He looked around, confused and panicked. The military channel was on the TV and He looked at his bed. Jon once read about a prisoner in WW2 who survived the entire war as a POW, and one of the things that the man did daily to detach himself from what was going on was cover his head with his pillow and limit the oxygen allowed in. He'd then concentrate on something he wanted to think about or revisit and eventually, the lowered amount of oxygen and his focus and concentration , almost meditating, would put him at an altered state of mind. The effects were similar to that of using drugs. It was dangerous but it was something different. Jon had tried if a few times, and it works, just like it had just now. Only Jon had been thinking about Panama City Beach in Florida, not some hellish war zone over seas.
Next time, he'd turn off the military channel and try to find baywatch or some show that would lead him to a lot more fun of a place. Then after over 7 months of isolation, something hit Jon. He went to the channel guide and began looking for SOME form of adult entertainment....
June 26th. 2015. 0235 hours.
It was a war zone in every sense of the word. Recently, the LNO had been carving out areas of South America, battling cartels and governments, and winning. Eventually, the capital was taken and the US Embassy was surrounded, essentially being held hostage which led to a US and Brazilian led invasion to take back the compound.
Air raid sirens were going off, gunfire and small explosions were constant, and at this time of night, those various flashes lit up the night like fireworks. There were occasional screams, people yelling in the distance, and people running down the streets to flee when they thought it was safe. The smell was constantly changing. One moment, gunpowder was in the air, while the next it could be simply flames. The stink of death was there also, and so was the smell of destruction in the form of dust from any of the myriads of buildings that were destroyed to more or lesser degrees.
The night sky was not dark; it was lit up bright and orange and then riddles with huge, distinct beams of search lights. It was a war zone.
Itchy made his way through the streets, sticking as best he could to dark spots, keeping out of the open as often as possible. He was in Fallujah with Marine Force Recon and Syria with the U.S. Army and both were hellish. This, this was something else. This was an entire city tearing and shooting itself apart.
Itchy was alone, but he'd come here with a group of 3 SEALS. Unfortunately, one was wounded, and another killed, all because a girl with a doll was somewhere unexpected, and she screamed. Since then, the four had been under attack or avoiding patrols of LNO paramilitaries. When pinned down, the two men simply told Itchy to go, that they "got this." Itchy figured they were dead and that they had given him the means to escape the building and get to the target. He would not allow that to be in vain.
He could see the roof of the target building ahead and was about to exit an alley and cross the street when 2 modified Mercedez's ripped through the street. Itchy ducked back into the alley for a few moments before poking out his head and making sure it was clear. He raised his silenced M14 SOCOM to his shoulder and moved quickly across the street. He heard soldiers yelling, not more than 100 yards behind him, but that didn't concern him now.
He moved through the next alley and came to another street, one that was almost void of activity. One would not think that less than 50 feet away was the General of LNO, one of the most powerful and feared men in the world, a man capable of going to war with the United States and Brazil.
The man Itchy and the group had been sent to kill.
He moved across the street and along the front of a building when around the corner came two LNO soldiers. He would have let them go but they were about to turn in his direction. The first shot caught them both unaware as it took one in the temple. The second soldier hardly reacted, but turned fast enough to take this round in the right eye socket. Itchy moved and stepped over them, hardly noticing and not caring that one of those he stepped over was a boy that couldn't have been over 14. The AK 47 seemed to be bigger than both of his arms.
He dragged the bodies inside the building and continued on, peeking around the corner at the target building. Again he was about to turn the corner and make his way to the building when a small convoy of about 6 vehicles, including one armored personnel vehicle, raced up to the HVT's building and troops deployed in protective circles. Obviously, they were there to move the General. Itchy cursed under his breath and decided on a rather simple plan.
He waited for a moment or two, but laid down on the floor in the prone position, the most stable for firing, and he began to relax, finding his breath and focusing. The General walked out a moment later, stopped to point and bark an order that he never finished, because from less than 50 yards away, Itchy fired a 7.62mm round that ripped through the man's neck. The men around him raced into action, a few shielding the body of the General while the vast majority of the over 40 men focused on where the shot had been fired from, and that focus was in the form of dozens of rounds being fired every second. Itchy moved quickly, feeling and hearing rounds whip past and impact homes and the ground around him. He went to take cover in a building but as he was, soldiers behind him opened fire and an SUV shot around the corner and opened fire. Itchy moved to the alley, bullets slamming into the wooden home all around him, showering him with splinters.
He was almost at the end of the alley when he heard the distinct sound of an RPG behind him. He didn't move fast enough and projectile hit a dumpster behind him and Itchy was unconscious almost immediately. For the next 2 hours and 28 minutes, Itchy was held and tortured by LNO members as he moved in and out of consciousness. When asked who he was, he'd give them his name and answer questions. "Justin Beiber. Delta Force. Here to kill Adolph Hitler. Remember the alamo."
Itchy knew he was going to die and was simply trying to make it happen sooner. At one point he blacked out as hit body dealt with the pain, only to wake up to the room being lit up brightly, mainly from the outside via high intensity search lights. Someone picked his chin up and Itchy heard "--of ours" before passing out again. By some unfortunate happenstance, coalition forces stumbled upon the building and breached. Itchy would live. He's also get a commendation. When it was handed to him, he looked up and saw a face. It confused him and he dropped the commendation as the boy looked at Itchy. It was one of the younger boys Itchy had killed, where and when, he couldn't remember. Maybe it was all of them.
CDC Facility, Fort Leonard Wood, MS.
October 31st 2017.
Jon sat up suddenly. He looked around, confused and panicked. The military channel was on the TV and He looked at his bed. Jon once read about a prisoner in WW2 who survived the entire war as a POW, and one of the things that the man did daily to detach himself from what was going on was cover his head with his pillow and limit the oxygen allowed in. He'd then concentrate on something he wanted to think about or revisit and eventually, the lowered amount of oxygen and his focus and concentration , almost meditating, would put him at an altered state of mind. The effects were similar to that of using drugs. It was dangerous but it was something different. Jon had tried if a few times, and it works, just like it had just now. Only Jon had been thinking about Panama City Beach in Florida, not some hellish war zone over seas.
Next time, he'd turn off the military channel and try to find baywatch or some show that would lead him to a lot more fun of a place. Then after over 7 months of isolation, something hit Jon. He went to the channel guide and began looking for SOME form of adult entertainment....
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Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
I also say, just RP away and whoever meets who at what time doesn't matter to me. My canvas is pretty blank right now in terms of how I want people to meet.
Az
Az
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Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Holy FUCK! First of all, I've been looking for this song for over 10 damned years and FINALLY found it.
Second, FUCK I'm so happy.
Third, if I was to make an intro to Surviving: The End, this song would be it. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do...
Az
PS, video has nothing to do with the music, so feel free to ignore it.
Az
Second, FUCK I'm so happy.
Third, if I was to make an intro to Surviving: The End, this song would be it. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do...
Az
PS, video has nothing to do with the music, so feel free to ignore it.
Az
In
Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Jonesy,
The RP is closed temporarily, albeit indefinitely. Basically, we're going to get things organized and flowing.
At that point, we'll open up again. That may be the end of Season One, because this RP will be running as seasons.
So. The answer is yes. I recommend you subscribe, read up and follow it occasionally, always feel free to interact in the OOC in the interim.
Thanks.
Az
The RP is closed temporarily, albeit indefinitely. Basically, we're going to get things organized and flowing.
At that point, we'll open up again. That may be the end of Season One, because this RP will be running as seasons.
So. The answer is yes. I recommend you subscribe, read up and follow it occasionally, always feel free to interact in the OOC in the interim.
Thanks.
Az
In
Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Anima, I know that Fuad and Terry will meet up.
Just not sure when. I'd like a post, maybe two to develop more of their relationship.
But pencil me in, because eventually, it will happen.
Az
Just not sure when. I'd like a post, maybe two to develop more of their relationship.
But pencil me in, because eventually, it will happen.
Az
In
Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
CDC Center.
Fort Leonard Wood, MS.
Will blinked, narrowing his eyes at this odd man he found himself aiming at, thoughts whirring. CIA? A not-so-subtle hint he knew his name? For four years, he'd been growing up around government. SS, CIA, FBI, all prying his father's attentions. So of course, who was he to doubt the man's words? He opened his mouth to say something else, still appearing suspicious despite his thoughts, when he found himself certainly distracted. It was so close he felt the air pressure from the passing object stir his hair, a rather heavy-looking book whipping past his head. Instinctively, he jerked to the side, grunting and spinning on his heel, aim already shifting towards- A woman?
He gave a sigh, slowly releasing the tension on his bow, stepping back to keep his back pressed to the wall, gaze flicking about now, seeking other people. From the beating he'd just seen given, he was more than a little paranoid more fighting might break out.
"Calm down lady! No need to go heaving books at people damnit! He beat the shit out of that fucker, of course I'm gonna aim at him!"
Don't make the archer flip a tit, now. But then, he wasn't quite sure if she'd thrown it because he was threatening Jon, or because she was a fucking nutter.... With that thought in mind, he brought the bow to half draw again, looking wary of the whole situation.
Harris sat at the door for a few long moments. Had he not taken a piss a few moments before hearing the CLICK, he probably would have done so then. Yeah, he was a generation Y guy, he'd seen all kinds of violent shit and deaths on tv and computers, but this. This was real. There were no awesome sound effects or dramatics, and SWISHING sounds when punches were thrown. No time outs, or rules. No score or music playing in the background.
Just a guy beat to death in front of him, and he couldn't get those sounds out of his head. Dull. Bloody. Deadly.
Harris was staring for who knows how long when the another sound, this time a THUD shook him out of it.
...After announcing himself to Will initially, Jon turned his back to Will in some form of trustfall and began to go through the guards possessions. His name tape said O. B. Bradley, but Jon didn't really care. Jon took his key cards, pocketed them, then went for one of his pistols when that book that clipped Will hit him in the back squarely. "What the fuck?" He turned around and glared at Will until he realized what had happened. He shook his head for a moment, but looked at Petra and the anger fled for a moment as he stared with his mouth hung open mid-sentence as whatever he was about to say suddenly eluded him.
Jon was by no means a ladies man; he was always busy with work and traveling, so his lifestyle didn't really allow him plenty of time to mingle with the opposite sex. So while it had been 8 months since he had been locked inside and not seen a beautiful woman traipsing around in a bra and underwear, it had been about the same time and then some, since it happened BEFORE being locked up.
And CIA training aside, Jon was a guy. And guys like that kind of stuff.
Finally Harris said aloud, "what the fuck is going on?" His voice was a bit loud, but his voice kind of broke.
That's what you call success. While the book missed her intended target, at least it offered some sort of distraction. Sure, it got the bow aimed in her direction, but not with an intent to kill. When the archer turned she was surprised to see a pretty young looking kid. Why the fuck was a kid here? Why the fuck was anyone here?
“Calm! Kill! Whaaat?!” She spoke before her brain got a chance to catch up. She took a deep breath and crouched down while she blew it out. Moments later she shot back up, seeming to have done exactly what he told her to... calm down.
Everyone else was 'what-the-fucking,' so she would join in at some point too, but for now she took a few steps down toward them to also maybe catch a glimpse of the third person that she could only hear. She forgot she wasn't dressed, but wouldn't have really noticed or cared anyway. She crossed her arms over her chest. She looked at the doors to the other rooms as she passed by. Finally her gaze stopped on the dead man.
“What the FUCK IS going on here? Why have I been locked in a room for nine months? And why is this guy dead?” She was back to her normal tone now, but was still very fearful amongst the murderer and would be murderer. There were other questions she'd get to later.
Jon looked around quickly and noticed two doors at the end of the hall, both with large signs. One read ARMORY and the other said 3D FLOOR CONTROL ROOM. Both were locked with a card reader. He looked towards the boy in the hall, and Will, but now chose to keep his eyes off of the woman for...reasons. "Look, I'm not exactly sure what's going on. I'm Jon Erikson, I'm with the CIA and this facility was," he took a moment and paused. Sure the shit was classified, but they were now free. So it either meant that A: they were freed and would be briefed because all was well or B: they were fucked, and they were released for some other reason, which meant everyone here was dead to some degree.
He cleared his throat, taking one of the guards handguns, it's holster and magazine bandoleer. "This was a CDC facility set up for assets to be stored until the infection was culled. We were to help ensure we had people with training in vital areas would be around in case most didn't make it. Not sure why the hell we were abandoned, why we were freed or anything, but we need to do some investigating. Not going to go into it much more because I'm sure others will be coming out soon, I don't want to repeat myself 6 times or whatever." Jon stood up as he pulled the slide of the 9mm back, checking that a round was chambered as he flipped the safety on. He ignored the question in regards to the dead body but knew it would get brought up again. He just didn't want to explain himself several times.
Will let out a soft sigh of relief as she managed to calm down, gaze flicking back to Jon as he set to... Half-way explaining. He continued to hold his bow at half draw, pointed at the ground for now, but it wasn't exactly threatening. Just... wary.
"Judging by the fact that that son of a bitch tried to shoot me the second I walked out of my room, I'm going to go with option B. I don't think they'd lock us in here for nine months just to try and kill us...."
He blinked, something else catching in his mind. Infection?... He'd heard something about that, sitting in on one of his father's meetings, just the evening before he was taken to this place. Some kind of... zombie-esque bullshit. He hadn't believed it at the time. But nine months in here... It seemed a lot more possible now.
"Now let's all just.... shut up for a minute. Wait for the others to come out, if they do... Just... Nobody move from where they are. Franky, I don't trust any of you at the moment, it's easier if nobody so much as flinches until we talk things out, yeah?"
Sensible enough.
C.I.A. Three letters absolutely no one at the UN trusted or liked to hear. Mainly because of shit like this when someone ended up dead and the excuse was 'I'm CIA.' They were an organization that thrived on lies and secrets, so while she paid attention to what he had to say, she was quickly learning how to align herself with this person.
She rubbed her temples while he explained. “I must be missing something here. I haven't heard anything about an infection.” It sounded like bull shit, but for the moment she didn't have any choice but to believe it. Vital asset, she could understand. She started to pick at her lower lip as she thought.
She turned back around to face the other one just as he was explaining that everyone should stay where they were. She walked closer and squinted her eyes at him. “You look familiar. But I can't quite place you.” She stared at him for a few seconds longer before she shrugged and kept walking.
“You guys can stay here. I'm going to put some clothes on.” And take a few moments alone to think. She did agree with the kid, but she wasn't going to take orders from him. Plus, she was cold.
Will simply gave the woman a flat look. Had he not just said to stay the fuck put? But, he couldn't blame a woman for wanting clothes. Her comment on him appearing familiar, however, did seem to disturb him a tid-bit. For some reason, he got the sense he didn't want to be recognized as the president's son at the moment...
".... Yeah, yeah. Just... hurry up, yeah?" Will half said, half asked.
Fort Leonard Wood, MS.
Will blinked, narrowing his eyes at this odd man he found himself aiming at, thoughts whirring. CIA? A not-so-subtle hint he knew his name? For four years, he'd been growing up around government. SS, CIA, FBI, all prying his father's attentions. So of course, who was he to doubt the man's words? He opened his mouth to say something else, still appearing suspicious despite his thoughts, when he found himself certainly distracted. It was so close he felt the air pressure from the passing object stir his hair, a rather heavy-looking book whipping past his head. Instinctively, he jerked to the side, grunting and spinning on his heel, aim already shifting towards- A woman?
He gave a sigh, slowly releasing the tension on his bow, stepping back to keep his back pressed to the wall, gaze flicking about now, seeking other people. From the beating he'd just seen given, he was more than a little paranoid more fighting might break out.
"Calm down lady! No need to go heaving books at people damnit! He beat the shit out of that fucker, of course I'm gonna aim at him!"
Don't make the archer flip a tit, now. But then, he wasn't quite sure if she'd thrown it because he was threatening Jon, or because she was a fucking nutter.... With that thought in mind, he brought the bow to half draw again, looking wary of the whole situation.
Harris sat at the door for a few long moments. Had he not taken a piss a few moments before hearing the CLICK, he probably would have done so then. Yeah, he was a generation Y guy, he'd seen all kinds of violent shit and deaths on tv and computers, but this. This was real. There were no awesome sound effects or dramatics, and SWISHING sounds when punches were thrown. No time outs, or rules. No score or music playing in the background.
Just a guy beat to death in front of him, and he couldn't get those sounds out of his head. Dull. Bloody. Deadly.
Harris was staring for who knows how long when the another sound, this time a THUD shook him out of it.
...After announcing himself to Will initially, Jon turned his back to Will in some form of trustfall and began to go through the guards possessions. His name tape said O. B. Bradley, but Jon didn't really care. Jon took his key cards, pocketed them, then went for one of his pistols when that book that clipped Will hit him in the back squarely. "What the fuck?" He turned around and glared at Will until he realized what had happened. He shook his head for a moment, but looked at Petra and the anger fled for a moment as he stared with his mouth hung open mid-sentence as whatever he was about to say suddenly eluded him.
Jon was by no means a ladies man; he was always busy with work and traveling, so his lifestyle didn't really allow him plenty of time to mingle with the opposite sex. So while it had been 8 months since he had been locked inside and not seen a beautiful woman traipsing around in a bra and underwear, it had been about the same time and then some, since it happened BEFORE being locked up.
And CIA training aside, Jon was a guy. And guys like that kind of stuff.
Finally Harris said aloud, "what the fuck is going on?" His voice was a bit loud, but his voice kind of broke.
That's what you call success. While the book missed her intended target, at least it offered some sort of distraction. Sure, it got the bow aimed in her direction, but not with an intent to kill. When the archer turned she was surprised to see a pretty young looking kid. Why the fuck was a kid here? Why the fuck was anyone here?
“Calm! Kill! Whaaat?!” She spoke before her brain got a chance to catch up. She took a deep breath and crouched down while she blew it out. Moments later she shot back up, seeming to have done exactly what he told her to... calm down.
Everyone else was 'what-the-fucking,' so she would join in at some point too, but for now she took a few steps down toward them to also maybe catch a glimpse of the third person that she could only hear. She forgot she wasn't dressed, but wouldn't have really noticed or cared anyway. She crossed her arms over her chest. She looked at the doors to the other rooms as she passed by. Finally her gaze stopped on the dead man.
“What the FUCK IS going on here? Why have I been locked in a room for nine months? And why is this guy dead?” She was back to her normal tone now, but was still very fearful amongst the murderer and would be murderer. There were other questions she'd get to later.
Jon looked around quickly and noticed two doors at the end of the hall, both with large signs. One read ARMORY and the other said 3D FLOOR CONTROL ROOM. Both were locked with a card reader. He looked towards the boy in the hall, and Will, but now chose to keep his eyes off of the woman for...reasons. "Look, I'm not exactly sure what's going on. I'm Jon Erikson, I'm with the CIA and this facility was," he took a moment and paused. Sure the shit was classified, but they were now free. So it either meant that A: they were freed and would be briefed because all was well or B: they were fucked, and they were released for some other reason, which meant everyone here was dead to some degree.
He cleared his throat, taking one of the guards handguns, it's holster and magazine bandoleer. "This was a CDC facility set up for assets to be stored until the infection was culled. We were to help ensure we had people with training in vital areas would be around in case most didn't make it. Not sure why the hell we were abandoned, why we were freed or anything, but we need to do some investigating. Not going to go into it much more because I'm sure others will be coming out soon, I don't want to repeat myself 6 times or whatever." Jon stood up as he pulled the slide of the 9mm back, checking that a round was chambered as he flipped the safety on. He ignored the question in regards to the dead body but knew it would get brought up again. He just didn't want to explain himself several times.
Will let out a soft sigh of relief as she managed to calm down, gaze flicking back to Jon as he set to... Half-way explaining. He continued to hold his bow at half draw, pointed at the ground for now, but it wasn't exactly threatening. Just... wary.
"Judging by the fact that that son of a bitch tried to shoot me the second I walked out of my room, I'm going to go with option B. I don't think they'd lock us in here for nine months just to try and kill us...."
He blinked, something else catching in his mind. Infection?... He'd heard something about that, sitting in on one of his father's meetings, just the evening before he was taken to this place. Some kind of... zombie-esque bullshit. He hadn't believed it at the time. But nine months in here... It seemed a lot more possible now.
"Now let's all just.... shut up for a minute. Wait for the others to come out, if they do... Just... Nobody move from where they are. Franky, I don't trust any of you at the moment, it's easier if nobody so much as flinches until we talk things out, yeah?"
Sensible enough.
C.I.A. Three letters absolutely no one at the UN trusted or liked to hear. Mainly because of shit like this when someone ended up dead and the excuse was 'I'm CIA.' They were an organization that thrived on lies and secrets, so while she paid attention to what he had to say, she was quickly learning how to align herself with this person.
She rubbed her temples while he explained. “I must be missing something here. I haven't heard anything about an infection.” It sounded like bull shit, but for the moment she didn't have any choice but to believe it. Vital asset, she could understand. She started to pick at her lower lip as she thought.
She turned back around to face the other one just as he was explaining that everyone should stay where they were. She walked closer and squinted her eyes at him. “You look familiar. But I can't quite place you.” She stared at him for a few seconds longer before she shrugged and kept walking.
“You guys can stay here. I'm going to put some clothes on.” And take a few moments alone to think. She did agree with the kid, but she wasn't going to take orders from him. Plus, she was cold.
Will simply gave the woman a flat look. Had he not just said to stay the fuck put? But, he couldn't blame a woman for wanting clothes. Her comment on him appearing familiar, however, did seem to disturb him a tid-bit. For some reason, he got the sense he didn't want to be recognized as the president's son at the moment...
".... Yeah, yeah. Just... hurry up, yeah?" Will half said, half asked.
In
Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Also, Fin, Arlear and I are working on a CDC post in the live doc, so please wait until it's posted.
Az
Edit. Posted.
Az
Az
Edit. Posted.
Az
In
Surviving: The End (character-centric; modern zombie survival)
→
11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
"Nice" is all relative.....
Az
Az
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