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    1. finalcatharsis 11 yrs ago

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Hah. Anchorman. Props.
Only original characters. No canons of the games, just same basic principals.

Looking for a small group (probably 5 at the most) of advanced, committed players who like to collaborate and create together.

I've thought of a few other ideas, but I'm not going to post any other details until I see some interest.

If you want to know more about me, check out my posts or the website in my signature.
Exit said
Okay.. so I've finally posted the first part to the collab between finalcatharsis and myself. It was a little long to I cut it into three parts... and then cut that first part into two again haha. I'll put up part two either after another post or before I go to bed tonight.If you'd like it up sooner just let me know.


Thanks for taking care of this! :) I know it's a lot to sort through.
Trinity Episcopal Church, Southwest Missouri
Approximately five months after the Rising

Part I

Daniel paused in his duties to wipe the sweat from his brow and onto the back of his forearm. He bent backward to stretch his back, his bare stomach pushing out in front of him. His shirt was off, and it was a struggle to keep his pants on too, in this heat. With less than five inches of rainfall so far this summer, he had taken to tying plastic bags around the leafy tree limbs that hung over the roof. This way he could collect condensation, however little there was to be had. When he had gathered up every last drop from the smaller containers into a larger one for his last haul back to the sink, he picked it up with little effort and lugged it down the stairs. Before depositing it, he splashed some on his face and sighed. It might have been slightly wasteful, but he still had a pretty good amount of bottled water in the basement, at least enough to get him through to the winter months when he could start collecting snow.

After that he went back to his makeshift apartment to change, clean up, and shave. It had only been two weeks since his last visitors, a family of four on their way to Canada, and he expected some more stragglers would pop in at some point. Despite the seemingly hopeless situation out there, people were still making it. Families, unlike his own, were still sticking together. If there was a shred of hope to be found, Daniel found it. It had always been his way to stay positive and encouraging. That had gotten difficult, but he managed.
____

“God damn, Andrew. We've been sitting out here watching this dude for six days now! The only one in there is the priest! And we could take him easily. I'm fucking hungry. What we got from that family a week ago wasn't enough to last. ” The woman was sitting just behind the tree line with two men to either side of her. Andrew was a menacing hulk of a man, while Cole was about her height and size. Andrew had about six inches and fifty pounds on them both.

The big man was on his knees holding binoculars up to his eyes. He had the church in his sights. “All right. We do it tonight. Just after sun down.” He paused and looked at them both. “Cole, make sure the pistol is loaded and ready to go.”

Cole nodded. “We only have three bullets left, so if we use it, we'll have to make it count.”
____

Occasionally, at night, Daniel liked to wind down by playing and drinking wine. He came from a family with established traditions that he still stuck to, to this day. He had even made a few of his own since the Rising. He lit both of the altar candles before sinking down to the carpet. He propped his back up against the wall, put his guitar in his lap, and made sure his wine was within his reach. First he started with tuning, then moved on to some of his simpler favorites. By the time he had a little buzz on he was plucking away furiously. All the songs ran together.

When the first set of frantic knocks came to one of the side entrances, he hadn't heard it over his playing. It wasn't until he heard the screams that he paused and put his guitar on the floor beside him.

“PLEASE! Help us! We've got an injured man and the shufflers are closing in!”

Daniel's eyes widened in surprise. He rushed to the door and unlocked it. Blame it on the wine, his innocent nature, or the fact that he believed that women were trustworthy, but not a second thought was given to the fact that these people might not be friendly. Dan swung the door back and watched as they filed in. A smaller man, hunched over was draped over the shoulders of a woman and another rather large man. He gulped as they lowered the man down onto the carpet right in the center of the aisle. The larger man and woman then stood and looked to the priest with scared eyes. She put her hands on her head and squeezed out some tears. The man on the floor rolled into the fetal position, arms clenching his stomach.

“Can you help him?! Please! We don't... we don't know what to do!”

Daniel's mouth hung open. A few moments later, he slammed the door back, locked it then rushed to the hurt man's side. His hands moved around the man to try and find the wound and also force him to lay back flat on his back so he could take a better look. When his fingers accidentally touched the gun tucked in the mans belt he was taken aback for a few seconds.

While Dan had his back turned, Andrew slowly pulled out a lead pipe he had tucked into his backpack.

Daniel's brows furled. “Wait... you're not--” Why had it taken him so long to see? He had played right into their scheme. Dan flipped around to look at the larger man just as the pipe collided with his right temple. The last thing he heard was that awful 'cling,' when the pipe connected with his skull.
_____

Dan's brown eyes slowly blinked open. They darted left to right. Where am I? He winced. He had a splitting headache. What happened? He pulled his hand up to his head and upon discovering just how tender it was... “Fuck!” He brought himself to all fours, then eventually into a standing stagger. When he started to fall, he was caught by the altar. The priest turned to face it and partially used it to keep himself up. He remembered shortly after what had transpired. He put one of his hands over his mouth in shock.

A few minutes later Daniel heard the two males exchanging words in the working sacristy.

“Who knew he was hiding all of that food down there? God, we really made it good this time! The others will bow down to us now.”

“Sooo, what are we going to do with him?”

“Well, we'll talk to him. See if we can't get him to come around to our side. Four is better than three. At least for the trip back to the group. If anything, he'll be a nice distraction for the dead.” The guy laughed.

“That's going to be difficult though right? The guy's a priest, after all.”

“Nah. He's a priest and the world ended. There's nothing left for him. He'll give up. He'll have to if he wants to live.”

The words triggered something in him, something he hadn't felt for a long time. Rage? These people tricked him. They came into his church. They knocked him out. They were stealing his food. Now they expected him to roll over in defeat. Daniel made a decision then that would later surprise him. He decided to fight. He plunged his hand into his pocket to retrieve his knife... but discovered it wasn't there. They must have taken it off me.

Dan crouched and went over to the altar rail. Among the several iron rods that held the thing up, he knew just where to find a loose one that should have been repaired ages ago. He yanked it free then silently made his way back to the vesting sacristy. The priest almost walked straight through the door when he saw a shadow moving in his apartment. He then heard the woman in there scrounging around through his things. With his back to the wall, he edged closer to the door frame and took a quick peek around. She started to pluck at one of the strings on his banjo, her back to him now. Without hesitation, he took two long bounds toward her and brought the rod down directly onto her head. She went down, taking one of the banjos with her.

Daniel stood over her a few brief moments. She groaned, her chest still rising and falling with each breath. Something changed in him then. He didn't feel like himself. He looked down at his own hands and body, but he didn't recognize them. It was like he had become a robot replica of himself and a miniature him was controlling his actions from a console in his brain. The rod was then brought down on her head again.... and again... and again until a bloody crater formed and inevitably caved in.

The priests body had taken to acting on its own. He found himself back at the entrance to his room. He looked around the corner to see if the men had come out of the working sacristy yet, but they hadn't. He crouched and made his way over to the pews. He hid himself behind the third one and slid to the end nearest the center aisle.

“Oh fuck! Andrew! He's gone,” Cole called out. Daniel hadn't noticed the man come out, but the man hadn't seen him yet.

The big man came running out. He looked out over the church. “Fuck. Jillian! Get out here!” He paused a few seconds waiting for her to come out. “God damn it. Where did that girl get herself off to?” He shook his head and started walking toward Dan's room. “Cole, get out there and check the pews. This fucker couldn't have gotten far.” Cole brought a out a knife from his pocket, Daniel's knife.

The priest felt a hideous smile creep across his lips as the unsuspecting man walked out toward him. He went pew by pew first looking to the right then the left. This gave Daniel the advantage as he would be looking to the pew across from the one he was hiding behind first. Again, Daniel didn't flinch. When the man was within reach, Danny lunged at him with a growl and brought the rod down between his shoulder blades. The man dropped the knife and fell to all fours. The priest picked up the knife. He knew it well and it felt comfortable in his grip.

“Fuckin' shit!” Cole staggered to his feet and reached for his pistol. He got it out of his belt and took the safety off, but it was too late. Dan used his left arm to push the gun aside and plunged the knife right into the mans chest. He pulled it out and repeated once more before the man crumpled down onto the floor in one bloody heap and proceeded to bleed out. He gasped for air, his punctured left lung deflating and flooding.

Andrew, who had run back out panicked from seeing Jillian murdered in the vesting sacristy, got there just in time to see the display. He stopped in front of the altar. “What the fuck kind of priest are you?” He hadn't yelled, but it carried far enough.

Daniel ignored the question and knelt down to grab the gun. He returned the knife to his pocket. When Danny stood back up, he faced the guy and held the gun out. He was shaking from the adrenaline. He had fired a gun once or twice in his life, but never quite liked it. The first shot was way off and the bullet was stopped by the back wall. Andrew dove to his right just as Dan fired the second shot, which left a deep graze across his calf, before planting itself in the marble altar.

The priest didn't want to miss the next shot, so he started making his way toward the altar. Andrew had scrambled behind it for cover.

“Hey man, listen! I'm sorry for what we did! I don't have any weapons on me! Just let me go and I promise I'll never come back here! Please!” Daniel sensed the desperation in his voice, but he felt nothing. Hearing the footsteps getting closer and closer, Andrew laid down on his stomach, trying to think of what he could do to stop this crazy fucker.

Dan walked up the right side of the altar. When he turned to point the gun he felt something grasp his ankle. Andrew managed to yank his leg out from under him. As Daniel was falling he fired the gun a third time. Then he hit the slate floor hard. The back of his head smacked into it so hard, he thought he might pass out again. He shook his head back and forth a few times in an attempt recover quickly.

Andrew, stunned that his plan had actually worked took those crucial few seconds to get to his hands and knees. He found himself a few seconds later face to face with the barrel of the pistol, but he knew something Dan didn't. He smiled as Daniel pulled the trigger. The priest, expecting all sorts of brain matter to fly out of the back of the mans head was shocked when no bullet came out. He turned the gun to the side and stared at it in awe. A second later a heavy weight lowered itself atop his hips. Andrew knocked the gun from his hand and laughed, turning his face up toward the roof.

Daniel started to struggle. He writhed underneath the weight, but it was just too much for him. His out of body experience was coming to a close and fear was setting in. He had done so well, and now he was fucked. Utter dread filled his heart. He was done for.

“OH.... boy. I'm going to enjoy this.” Andrew said, cracking his knuckles. He put his left hand on Daniel's chest to try and keep him still. He pulled his right elbow all the way back, formed a fist, then brought it down with all of his force to Daniel's left cheek. Dan screamed out as the pain surged through his face. He tasted blood. Andrew repeated again, but this time switching arms. Then twice more before he stopped to flex his fingers.

Andrew stood up and looked down at the man. He smiled, much like Dan had before killing Cole. Daniel had rolled onto his side and tried to lift himself up but was stopped by a kick to the ribs. Then another to the chest. It knocked the wind out of him and he coughed desperately, trying to get it back.

“Stand the fuck up, priest.” Daniel couldn't stand, much less move. He stayed in a ball on the floor. Eventually Andrew reached down, grabbed a tuft of Daniel's hair and yanked him up. The priests hands went to weakly tug at the mans fingers to try and get him to release. Andrew dragged him before the altar before letting him go. Daniel fell to his knees as if he was going to pray. Perhaps it was time to pray. God, save my soul. He reeled in tiny circles. Everything was starting to go blurry and he was seeing black spots. Then he remembered. Dad's knife... He gently slid his hand into his pocket and put the knife in his fist.

“What's wrong? Feeling down? Where's your god now? Who's going to save you?” Daniel could barely hear what the man was taunting. A few moments later he felt a pain between his shoulders. Andrew had kicked him to the floor once more, but it enabled him to pull the knife out without being noticed. He hid it under his stomach and turned his head to the side to watch Andrew out of his periphery. The guy was coming back down at him. Daniel turned as quick as he could onto his back, bent at the waist, outstretched his arm and plunged the knife into the mans stomach.

Andrew looked down in surprise. Daniel didn't even get a chance to pull the knife out. The man just fell off of it and onto his back.

This time it was the priests turn to have some fun. Daniel only mimicked the mans previous actions. He crawled on top of him.

Daniel looked down at the man. Fear was in his eyes. “How did you put it earlier?” The priest smiled. “This is going to be fun?” He took the knife in both hands and pulled it up above his head. He looked to the christus rex on the back wall and licked his lips. Is this what you wanted? Is this the sacrifice you spoke of? He brought the knife down into the mans chest over and over again until his arms became numb.

Dan rolled off of the body and onto his back. He laid there for several minutes trying to catch his breath. His whole body hurt. He felt something poking at his side which he knew must have been a broken rib. His eyes were so swollen up he could barely see. Despite everything that had happened, he managed to pull himself up to a seated position. He looked down at his body, covered in blood. He looked around him. When he realized what he had done, he started wailing uncontrollably. Eventually, like a child, the tantrum wore him out and he went to sleep right where he was.
Manhattan, New York
September 2014


Daniel looked down at his watch. He had been sitting in this bloody church for three hours going on forty. Taking confession was by far his least favorite priestly duty, but he was required to log a certain number of hours for seminary. He slumped down in his chair trying to get in some position to wake up his numb ass. This embroidered, purple monstrosity was a poor excuse for a cushion. He sat with his back to a portable screen, facing the altar. Everyone who came in walked up to the small prayer bench on the other side and knelt with clasped hands and heavy hearts to be absolved.

The first hour directly followed morning prayer and was the busiest. It was full of the older crowd, the only ones other than red-faced business men that were easily up at that ungodly hour in Manhattan. With the women it was always about guilt and how it manifested itself in their interactions with others. How they secretly cursed them, envied them, or otherwise wished them ill. For the men, it was usually out of fear over anything else. They were afraid their wife was going to find out, they were afraid their livers were going to fail, they were afraid of losing their jobs. Everyone was under the misguided assumption that they were baring themselves before God. In reality, he always saw it as people just trying to get right with themselves, or feel better about the choices they made somehow.

The second hour had brought in some people that were clearly uncomfortable and nervous. Their voices were shaky and they had trouble bringing their thoughts to their lips. These people usually confessed to not having regularly attended church or been lacking in their responsibilities to their faith.

The third hour was nothing. Mid-morning meant quiet time. Everyone had gone to work or started their daily routines. Dan's eyelids started to get heavy. It might have been considered blasphemous, but he imagined what better things he could be doing right now. He could be practicing on his banjo. He could be spending time with family or friends. He could be reading alone in his room. He could be--

“Um. Excuse me. Are you there?” A woman had snuck up on him and quietly lowered herself down on the bench. Feeling out of place, she tried not to disturb anything.

Dan's head shot back up so quickly that he banged it on the back of the wooden chair. He sucked in air and winced while trying to rub the pain away.

“Yes, I'm here. Go ahead.” She noticed his perturbed tone. He was thinking more about his head than he was about the person on the other side. Daniel forced himself to sit up straight and shook his head back and forth to try and wake himself up.

“Well... how do I say this? I guess.. um...” The woman, with fingers laced started to fidget a bit. Her palms were sweaty.

“Don't be nervous. Just go ahead.” She sounded young. It was odd to hear at this time of day, or even at all. Confused, he just wished the woman would hurry up. Maybe he could sneak out early and take a nap.

“Well, I've never done this before. I've never been to this church before. I wanted to--”

“Why are you here then?” Daniel cut her off, trying to get her to the point quickly. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back once more.

“Well, I live kind of nearby. I'm wondering... is it possible for a person like me to be forgiven?” His tone and short temper did nothing to calm her nerves, but she tried to stay strong. She had passed by the church several times before, always wanting to come in, but never had. Her family wasn't religious and what little she had heard from her friends over the years made the whole faith-thing sound ridiculous.

Dan rolled his eyes. She wasn't giving him much to go on. “Well, that all depends. Why don't you just go ahead and tell me what's bothering you? We'll worry about the forgiveness part after.” It was the best answer he could come up with at the time. The woman reminded him of his sister, always slightly unsure of herself, always afraid of what people thought of her.

She sat in silence trying to summon her courage for a few moments. She looked around the church. It was dead silent. The only others in there were both at the back kneeling before the votives in prayer. Surely they would not be able to hear her. She made an audible gulp before continuing. “I had an abortion. Can I be forgiven for something like that?”

Daniel finally shut up. He heard her sniffle. Just before he opened his mouth to give her some monotonous speech about how Anglicans felt about abortion, she started again.

“It was my step father's. He attacked me. I tried. I really tried to feel differently about it. To make myself bring it to term... but I was only sixteen. I didn't know what to do. And the thought of...” Her voice was cracking. She anxiously wiped away any tears that fell, slightly frustrated that she was crying this many years later. She'd been through therapy for all of this.

Daniel froze at the words this time. His heart started racing and he felt as if it wanted to pop out of his chest Aliens style. It suddenly got unbearably hot. He tugged at his starched collar. He was truly speechless now. Thoughtless, even.

“The thought of... I hated it. It was a parasite. The shame. It was eating me alive. Sucking away at my life force. Now I just wonder. I wonder every time I see a mother and child in the street or at the park. Should I have kept it?” She shook her head and slowly brought it down to rest between her forearms.

Daniel just stayed silent. He'd never taken a confession like this before. He'd never heard of anything like this before. Growing up in Kentucky, he lived a fairly sheltered life. Once he got to college he of course got more sexual experience. And no one left college without learning about date rape or hearing stories.

“So, is it possible for someone like me to be forgiven?” She waited a few moments for an answer. A few moments turned into a minute. She started to get ancy and began fidgeting again. “Well, can I?!” She raised her voice, but not so loud as to echo throughout the sanctuary.

Daniel snapped himself out of it despite all of the thoughts and emotions going through his head. He answered quickly.“Yes! You're forgiven! God is with you!” Somehow he had found his way to his feet and into a standing position. He put his index and middle fingertips to the corners of his right eye. It felt wet and sticky. He looked forward and his vision was blurry. Am I crying?

“Thank you, Father.” His words, though quick and to the point gave her some comfort. She wiped her tears and even smiled slightly as she stood. She was feeling hopeful. Her boot heels echoed on the floor as she made her way back to the entrance.

Daniel's head was still caught in the clouds, somewhere way up high. He listened as the sound of her heels got further and further away. He broke anonymity and came out from behind the screen in just enough time to see her back as she walked through the door frame. Long brown hair and an auburn wool coat. WAIT, he wanted to scream, but something held him back. Perhaps his priestly vows, or perhaps something else...

The experience stuck with him the rest of the day. He wondered how many others were out there like her. It made him sad, but also angry. But what was he supposed to do? Later that night he got a text from one of his seminary buddies.

Open mic night at Fox's. Bring your guitar. Ladies luv that. He half chuckled.

Not really feeling it tonight. Long day. Maybe tmrw.

Come on bro! It'll get your mind off school.

All right. What time?

9. Don't be late & don't wear ur collar.

Maybe his friend was right. If Dan needed anything at the moment, it was to get that woman and her past off of his mind.
_____

“Drrriiiinnkkk iiittt!” Nothing like peer pressure to get you drunk. This was the fourth shot that had been shoved in his face. He put the tiny glass up to his lips, threw his head back and downed it with a grimace. His two buddies, Jim and Dave, gave him a slap on the back. It wasn't hard to tell when Daniel was down. He wore the depressed look well.

“Who the hell does shots of scotch?” Yes, Daniel knew it was the preferred drink of Episcopal priests, but it was meant to be enjoyed slowly, and preferably on the rocks.

“We do!” Said Jim. “And do us a favor. Keep up the broody attitude, will ya? You're getting a lot of attention!” He tilted his head back over his shoulder at a table of women who had been trying to make eye contact. Daniel had been ignoring them, but Jim and Dave were determined to get laid. Women like that weren't his type.

“Come on. Let's go over!” When Dave smiled you could see both rows of his teeth. “Let's go!” Jim chimed in. They each took one of Dan's sleeves and tried to get him up off of the bar stool.

“Nah. Not in the mood. You guys go. I'll play somethin'. Get some good vibes goin'.” He tried to smile back at them, but it was obviously fake.

“All right. Good idea!” They both chuckled before turning and heading off. Daniel sighed. That seemed almost too easy. He took his guitar from it's case and stood slowly. He knew he was going to feel the effects of the alcohol soon. Dan tried his best to walk a straight line to the 'stage,' which was really nothing more than a small area cleared of tables and chairs with a bar stool and stand up mic. He sat down and began tuning his guitar.

“This goes out to a very special lady.”
_____

Five minutes later he was back at the bar waving down the tender. “Do y’all have cherry tree? Original Sin?” It was a favorite cider of his. He turned his attention back to his friends, watching them laugh and flirt from afar. When the cider came he didn't hesitate and downed half the pint without even thinking. He was starting to feel warm and gooey. His eyelids got slightly heavier. He felt good. Relaxed. Finally able to start taking his mind off of the days events. He crossed both forearms over the bar in between he and his cider and sat his chin atop his hands. He watched the bubbles rise.

“You have a really great voice. Where's that accent from?” A woman had taken a seat next to him.

He furled his eyebrows. That voice sounded familiar. His eyes moved to the left corners of his sockets as he tried to sneak a peak with his periphery. Wait a tick... it's her! He shot up and turned to face her straight on. Long brown hair. Auburn wool coat draped over the bar next to her beer. He stared at her a few moments, taking in the view. She had a beautiful face and nice curves. Was it possible she could be here? Now that he thought back to her confession, he did remember her saying she lived in the neighborhood. It wasn't totally inconceivable that she would be here. He put his right hand to the back of his head and rubbed a few times. It was a nervous habit.

“Is everything ok?” She tilted her head to the side and smiled.

“Oh. Uh. Yeah. Sorry.” To see her here, smiling, was strange to him. If it really was her. “Kentucky. Paducah, Kentucky... is where I'm from.”

“Ah. I have some relatives in Tennessee. The accent is pretty similar!”

“Just don't say that to anyone ELSE from Kentucky. They might take offense.” He mustered the most charming smile he could.

“Oh, is that a fact?” She laughed before brushing her hair behind her ears.

“Yeah, but don't worry. I won't tell anyone you said so. Secret's safe with me.” The voice was definitely a match.
_____

They continued their conversation to closing time at which point Dan asked if he could walk her home. He was worried about her going alone this late. She refused saying it was only a few blocks away, but he took her anyway. When they got to her building Daniel stood at the bottom of the steps and watched her walk up. After she turned the key she looked back at him.

“Well, it was nice getting to know you. Will I see you around?” Her eyes told him she was tired, but her smile told him she was excited about the possibility.

“Yeah. I'll be around. I live close.” He bounced on his toes a bit.

“All right. See you.” She waved at him before turning and walking in. She closed the door slowly, keeping her face in the crack so she could see him until the last second. She had butterflies in her stomach. She hadn't felt that in a long time.

The feeling was mutual. He stood there staring at the door for a few minutes before he finally turned and began walking back to the dormitory. He realized a block later that he hadn't even gotten her name.

He remembered some words his preacher had given him while he tried to cope with the death of his grandparents as a teen. Gods wisdom is infinite and unknown. Daniel became a regular at the bar.
Hello again! We have our first non-mod created character up on the website, so check it out! http://thebitterendrp.blogspot.com/p/charles-staten.html

I think once I get in a few more character sheets (hint, hint) I will move this over to the roleplay section so we can get started!

Oh, and I'll get up the Season 1 plot soon! Promise!!
Darkraven said
My condolences to your health. It really depends on your constitution and the strength of your immunity.I consider myself to be quite resistant, and history has proven it thus far. I recover from fevers within half a day up to a day. I once suffered sun stroke/heat exhaustion from running 17.5km under the hot sun, and it took me half a day to recover enough such that I wasn't miserable from being uncomfortable (this one's really funny because I went to uni and attended a lecture feeling miserable and suicidal from the suffering and while I was on the way home, I got better on the train ride home and was suddenly smiling and playing Plants VS Zombies 2 and buying all kinds of food for dinner after. There was even a moment I could remember that I stopped feeling awful and started feeling good. I was like recovering on the go! In computer game terms it's like regenerating health XD XD XD).As for flu though, it's oddly hard to recover from for such an inconsequential disease (at least for me. flu hard affects me). It took me normally 1-2 weeks to recover from it.Anyway, if things get difficult for you to write and post something, you could always get it up on the collab page and get people to help (such as fixing typos and grammar errors). I would be willing to help.


Same here. :-) no problem helping edit.
Exit said
@ I was actually planning to have my character run into yours after my next post and have an interesting conversation about ideals if you're interested. Originally planned to have him continue on his own after but I think with Anima's character, we'd make a pretty interesting little group if you're both okay with this.


Exit, I'm totally fine with it, but I suggest you pop open the chat http://write.roleplaygateway.com/p/Surviving%20The%20End%20New because we have a brainstorm going. (Currently at line 207) Add in whatever you feel like. I noted you'd be joining.

Other than that, I would WELCOME the interaction between my character and yours. A conversation on ideals sounds awesome to me and is one of the reasons I made him. :)
November 3rd, 1:03pm, Unmarked CDC Facility (Collab between AnriuSB & finalcatharsis)

Plip

Plip

Plip

Pli-

Chich

Sounded the rusty sink tap as the young girl, who had just turn ten twisted it shut. She slowly returned to the table and continued her drawing. She had not spoken for weeks. She had vaguely noticed the voices that had called for her over the seemingly distant PA over that time, but she had not given them a second thought. No, the only thought that had swam throughout the ocean of this young girl's mind was Why? Over and over it had circled, passing in and out of the recesses of her consciousness like the repetitive sequence of narcoleptic's sleeping patterns. Each time it returned to her a different ending was tagged to it. Why am I here? Why was I left? Why has no one come? Perhaps the strangest part of this sequence of thought was how impartial she was to it. It seemed like she could not bring herself to muster up the motivation to search for the answer. All she did was her daily routine. Wake up, eat, draw, eat, sleep, wake up...

It was killing her,

but she did not know it.

So she droned on, continuously drawing a single circle on top of itself and having the same continuous circle of thought pass around her head. She could not escape it, she could not leave it. Just as she was stuck in this room, she was stuck on that table, unable to move, unable to-

*Click*

That sound was strange, it was different, it was new. She was stopped in her tracks by it, almost startled even. Her head turned towards its origin. The door seemed to try and hide its guilt, like she would have done if Ivy had caught her doing something bad. She slowly stood up, keeping her eyes on the guilty door the whole time, and began to walk towards it. When she reached its face she grew anxious, even afraid. She stood, looking at the handle for a good long while, long enough for the events outside to calm down. In fact, the moment after everything had grown entirely quiet outside of the door, she happened to suddenly gain the urge to step out.

She looked up at the people who stood in the hall, resembling more of a frightened animal then a little girl. She saw a man on the ground, she wondered what he was dreaming about, and why he had picked such a strange place to fall asleep. She then looked past them all, noticing the red 'EXIT' sign at the end of the hall. She began walking towards it without a word. She stepped over the sleeping man without looking down, lucky for her she had not noticed his bloodied face and was able to remain oblivious to what had actually happened. Once over him she continued her walking, drawing ever closer to freedom...

When Petra got back into her room she went straight to the chest of clothing at the foot of her bed. She pulled out a sweatshirt and pants. It wasn't sexy, but it'd keep her insulated in the cold, clinical corridors of the building. She couldn't get the word 'infected' out of her mind, or the sight of the dead guard in the hallway. Supposedly he was trying to kill the archer, possibly the others too, but was that really a reason to kill him? It seemed to have gone beyond self-defense and into straight up murder. And infected. Surely he couldn't have meant the hoax that was circling on Twitter her assistant had told her about? Zombies? Really? She'd have to wait until she got outside to see for herself. She sighed and pulled her hair back into a ponytail before returning to the hallway. She tried to do what the kid told her to, which was to stand still in the hallway until all of the inhabitants came out and they could go into depth about what was going on, but when she saw a little girl come out and almost immediately head toward the door, she was curious. And it's not like they actually perceived her as a threat, right? In the mean time, another woman had come out of her room and apparently tripped, but introductions could continue later.

Petra decided it was about time to go into full UN mode, especially with a child around. She did her best to put a on calm and confident expression. A few steps later she was standing behind the girl. She didn't want her to open the door. No one knew what was on the other side of it yet, and if there was a deadly and highly contagious infection going around, the little girl would be one of the quickest to contract it. Petra reached out in an attempt to brush against the girls shoulder. She didn't want to agitate her even further, assuming she was already very confused and maybe even scared.

"Don't go out there yet. I don't think it's safe." Most of her adult life Petra had wanted to adopt a child. Part of her job required being around children often, and while she tried her best to put herself in the little girls shoes, she herself was also slightly afraid and confused. All of them had just been released from a nine month imprisonment. There was going to have to be an adjustment period, however brief, before she could be her true self again -- if that even existed anymore. If the girl continued for the handle, Petra would grab her arm. She hoped she wasn't the only person in this place that had experience with children.
If I haven't made it clear, I'm pretty much willing to collab with anyone! That's all part of the fun for me! I have one walker character and one CDC character.

:)
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