@orangebox
If necessary, we could edit so that one of them is just someone they're escorting back to their apartment.
If necessary, we could edit so that one of them is just someone they're escorting back to their apartment.
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@Dungeon Blaster
Was I not supposed to say that? I would've kept quiet if it didn't have a chance of affecting my character too, so apologies.
(Rolling a 10-sided die... is that also why you made us rank things from 1-10?)
*glances at Stage Four* Why hello...there.. uh.. (I'm assuming it was formerly a female).. Miss?
Was I not supposed to say that? I would've kept quiet if it didn't have a chance of affecting my character too, so apologies.
(Rolling a 10-sided die... is that also why you made us rank things from 1-10?)
*glances at Stage Four* Why hello...there.. uh.. (I'm assuming it was formerly a female).. Miss?
@Everyone who is still alive
That post. o.o
John Marcel has fired 4 out of his 6 bullets--just as an fyi.
(And oops. My character indirectly caused the priest's death D:)
That post. o.o
John Marcel has fired 4 out of his 6 bullets--just as an fyi.
(And oops. My character indirectly caused the priest's death D:)
@orangebox
I understand what you're saying--but note that Sylvia was not the one who directly killed them. She only witnessed someone die, and probably associated the infected man and John Marcel as people who weren't exactly 'human,' but as threats to her and her friend's existence. And Sylvia was in her cold, logical mood when those things happened--which is actually devoid of empathy and emotions. I guess society could consider her psychotic when she's in that state, but ironically, she is perfectly logical then.
Edit: Yeah, they cuddled. Sylvia is like that. Her personality is dissociated--think of it as a midway between the average person and a person with Disassociative Identity Disorder (but not nearly as extreme). It's very common in society for people to have different personalities when dealing with different people or circumstances after all. She just takes that up a notch.
I understand what you're saying--but note that Sylvia was not the one who directly killed them. She only witnessed someone die, and probably associated the infected man and John Marcel as people who weren't exactly 'human,' but as threats to her and her friend's existence. And Sylvia was in her cold, logical mood when those things happened--which is actually devoid of empathy and emotions. I guess society could consider her psychotic when she's in that state, but ironically, she is perfectly logical then.
Edit: Yeah, they cuddled. Sylvia is like that. Her personality is dissociated--think of it as a midway between the average person and a person with Disassociative Identity Disorder (but not nearly as extreme). It's very common in society for people to have different personalities when dealing with different people or circumstances after all. She just takes that up a notch.
@orangebox
Sylvia isn't exactly psychotic. She views it as protecting her dear friend. And infected eventually turn into zombies--so it couldn't be helped from her point of view. The man needed to go otherwise he would threaten everyone else. Her emotional stability is a bit wonky though, I'll admit that.
Sylvia isn't exactly psychotic. She views it as protecting her dear friend. And infected eventually turn into zombies--so it couldn't be helped from her point of view. The man needed to go otherwise he would threaten everyone else. Her emotional stability is a bit wonky though, I'll admit that.
@Invisible Man @Lone Wanderer
Look at the main OOC post, power is out in the present time. It went off after the hellfire missile tore up the street (and consequently, the power lines underneath).
I only have one character, just that me and Mattie_ are collaborating a lot. Currently they're both on the 4th floor.
Hope this helps.
Look at the main OOC post, power is out in the present time. It went off after the hellfire missile tore up the street (and consequently, the power lines underneath).
I only have one character, just that me and Mattie_ are collaborating a lot. Currently they're both on the 4th floor.
Hope this helps.
...The plot is most likely going to be accelerated now. >.>
That last collab post was a pretty good example of Sylvia's mood being "consistently inconsistent" on the other hand.
That last collab post was a pretty good example of Sylvia's mood being "consistently inconsistent" on the other hand.
[Austin and Sylvia]
As the pair heads up the stairs to the fifth floor, a loud pounding emanates from the previous level, followed by:
"YOU CHINK FUCKS THINK YOU CAN HOLD ME IN HERE? SUCH HUBRIS! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU HEAR ME? HUH? I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. I KNOW YOUR FACES!" he roared, his throat stinging with the force of his words. "I'LL KILL YOU, AND THEN I'LL KILL FUCK YOUR GIRL FRIEND, SHOW HER WHAT A REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL MAN CAN DO!"
Austin stops and just listens, his hand tightening on the railing. Fuck waiting till later, I’m killing this fucker now.
Part of it was the blatant racism, but Austin wasn’t the type to be so easily antagonized. It was mostly the challenge in John’s shout that made Austin want to beat him to the ground and see him cringe in fear and terror. The challenge, and the threat towards Sylvia.
Sylvia’s anger flares drastically, normally she would cower in fear-- but no, this guy was threatening Austin. Seeing Austin’s clenched fist, she looks at him and says, “Ready to wreck this guy?”
Once Austin is done with him, I want to give him a parting kick. Or several.
Austin laughs. “Hell yeah. Let’s go grab someone.”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” Sylvia’s eyes narrow. I’d sacrifice a person to make sure Austin is safe any day.
The pair follow the remainder of the possibly infected crowd up to the seventh floor. A small group of survivors stood awkwardly on the final landing. Austin flicks on his flashlight and shines it at the group. “Anyone bitten or scratched by a zombie will soon die and turn on everyone else, but only if they aren’t treated in time. If you value your safety, tell me if you or anyone else here has been wounded, please.” Austin says carefully, balancing a hint of confidence and authority with some fear, adding in the hope of treatment to encourage people not to hide their wounds. If it took too long or no one was actually infected, he would grab the largest, most submissive person they could find.
Sylvia scans everyone’s reactions carefully while Austin gives his small speech to the crowd. Have to keep an eye out for any hostile reactions.
Only a moment passes before a frightened voice walks to the forefront of the group. “Erm, one of them bit me on the arm? I don’t want to die, please cure me!” The voice pleads. The possible infected was a Caucasian man in his fifties, with greying, receding hair and a thick belly hanging over his belt. He stood at about 5’11 and wore a white polo shirt tucked into khaki pants. The man holds up his arm to the light, revealing a shallow but bloody bite wound. The zombie had bitten the man but hadn’t been able to bite deep before the man tore his arm away, tearing the his own skin and flesh off before the teeth got deep into his arm.
Austin smiles. It looked reassuring to the infected man, but Austin was smiling because he had a good meat shield now, one that he could use without a guilty conscience. “The rest of you wait here, we’ll escort this man down first and get him to a safe room to cure him. We can’t protect all of you at once, but you’re safest here.” Austin assures the group.
Sylvia beams a smile at the group and the man, “Don’t worry, he’s very capable.”
Must keep up appearances.
Austin hurries the man down to the fifth floor and saws through the rope holding the door shut before stepping away and walking to the stairs. “I’ll guard the stairs while you get treated, go on in.”
“The rope was there to make sure any zombies or rogue humans couldn’t get into our supplies,” Sylvia adds.
The man thanks them quietly and enters the apartment. “Hello? Is anyone in there?” He calls out uncertainly. Austin walks to the edge of the door and peers in. Nothing. John implied he was going to escape but how? The window? Austin motions to Sylvia that it’s safe to enter and walks inside, wary for traps and people hiding. Austin makes sure to lock the door behind them, as leaving it open would have been a horrible oversight.
Sylvia slips inside quietly and glances around. She spies a rope leading from the refrigerator and out the window. Leaning towards Austin she whispers, “There’s a rope on the fridge leading out the window. He’s probably climbing. I’ll go spot his position and signal when to cut it. Prepare a heavy object to throw over the side just in case too.”
Austin nods and brings a stack of the largest, heaviest ceramic plates he could find from a cabinet to the windowsill.
Speaking to the man, Sylvia says sweetly, “There seems to be an intruder trying to get up to this room trying to steal our supplies, so sit tight while we go deal with him. Afterwards we can treat you and it still wouldn’t be too late.”
Austin chuckles at the charade and holds his knife to the taut rope. “Now?”
Sylvia peeks out of the window, exposing as little of her face as she could. She could see Mr. Marcel struggling to climb down and nods at Austin.
If he survives, I hope a zombie eats him. Austin saws through the rope where it meets the windowsill, since it was the easiest place to cut. The rope snaps once nearly cut through, and John presumably falls to his doom.
“Drop the plates. I don’t want him surviving,” Sylvia says coldly, any hint of compassion gone from her voice. This was an enemy. And he was going to pay.
“I was going to anyways.” Austin grins and drops one plate after another, all slightly spread out, watching them all zip down toward the ground.
Once the deed was done, she comments to Austin, “Now we just need to fix the last problem remaining here, right?”
“Mhm.” Austin nods. To the infected man, Austin says “Take a seat on the couch, I’ll go get the medical supplies now.” The couch just so happened to face away from Austin and Sylvia. The man nods anxiously and takes a seat.
Walking up steadily behind the man, Austin grips his hair and slams the knife through the man’s temple. The blade sinks to the hilt with a slick thud. Austin pulls the knife out and stabs the man in the back of the neck as well. The stab deflects off the spine and goes sideways, so Austin stabs two more times to be sure he succeeded. The dead man’s head sags, blood running down his back and face, staining the white polo shirt. Austin wipes his knife on the man’s shirt, getting most of the blood off.
Sylvia mutters, “You should throw the body out the window.”
“Yeah. Watch out for the blood, we can’t let it get on us. I need to clean my knife to.” Austin cautions. He drags the dead man to the window by his legs after tying a plastic bag around the man’s head to contain the blood.
Sylvia gives herself a ton of distance away from the dead body. I don’t want blood on me.
Dead bodies are heavy. Austin complains to himself and hoists the man up onto a chair that he sets under the window. By himself, he couldn’t lift the man to the window, so he did it in stages, lifting one half and setting it onto the chair, then pulling it fully on top of the chair. He repeated this again and tipped the man out the window. Hopefully he lands on John, or kills a zombies.
“Well. That was a thing.” Austin remarks, looking absently at the couch where he killed the man. He didn’t even know his name. Shaking his head, Austin cleans off his trench knife with a paper towel wetted from a water pitcher.
“Cuddle with me?” Sylvia asks, looking hopefully at Austin.
“Now? But, I have some blood on me.” Austin wipes down his chest and gloves carefully.
“Pwease?”
“Fiiiiiiiine.” Austin sighs under his breath but agrees.
As the pair heads up the stairs to the fifth floor, a loud pounding emanates from the previous level, followed by:
"YOU CHINK FUCKS THINK YOU CAN HOLD ME IN HERE? SUCH HUBRIS! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU HEAR ME? HUH? I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. I KNOW YOUR FACES!" he roared, his throat stinging with the force of his words. "I'LL KILL YOU, AND THEN I'LL KILL FUCK YOUR GIRL FRIEND, SHOW HER WHAT A REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL MAN CAN DO!"
Austin stops and just listens, his hand tightening on the railing. Fuck waiting till later, I’m killing this fucker now.
Part of it was the blatant racism, but Austin wasn’t the type to be so easily antagonized. It was mostly the challenge in John’s shout that made Austin want to beat him to the ground and see him cringe in fear and terror. The challenge, and the threat towards Sylvia.
Sylvia’s anger flares drastically, normally she would cower in fear-- but no, this guy was threatening Austin. Seeing Austin’s clenched fist, she looks at him and says, “Ready to wreck this guy?”
Once Austin is done with him, I want to give him a parting kick. Or several.
Austin laughs. “Hell yeah. Let’s go grab someone.”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” Sylvia’s eyes narrow. I’d sacrifice a person to make sure Austin is safe any day.
The pair follow the remainder of the possibly infected crowd up to the seventh floor. A small group of survivors stood awkwardly on the final landing. Austin flicks on his flashlight and shines it at the group. “Anyone bitten or scratched by a zombie will soon die and turn on everyone else, but only if they aren’t treated in time. If you value your safety, tell me if you or anyone else here has been wounded, please.” Austin says carefully, balancing a hint of confidence and authority with some fear, adding in the hope of treatment to encourage people not to hide their wounds. If it took too long or no one was actually infected, he would grab the largest, most submissive person they could find.
Sylvia scans everyone’s reactions carefully while Austin gives his small speech to the crowd. Have to keep an eye out for any hostile reactions.
Only a moment passes before a frightened voice walks to the forefront of the group. “Erm, one of them bit me on the arm? I don’t want to die, please cure me!” The voice pleads. The possible infected was a Caucasian man in his fifties, with greying, receding hair and a thick belly hanging over his belt. He stood at about 5’11 and wore a white polo shirt tucked into khaki pants. The man holds up his arm to the light, revealing a shallow but bloody bite wound. The zombie had bitten the man but hadn’t been able to bite deep before the man tore his arm away, tearing the his own skin and flesh off before the teeth got deep into his arm.
Austin smiles. It looked reassuring to the infected man, but Austin was smiling because he had a good meat shield now, one that he could use without a guilty conscience. “The rest of you wait here, we’ll escort this man down first and get him to a safe room to cure him. We can’t protect all of you at once, but you’re safest here.” Austin assures the group.
Sylvia beams a smile at the group and the man, “Don’t worry, he’s very capable.”
Must keep up appearances.
Austin hurries the man down to the fifth floor and saws through the rope holding the door shut before stepping away and walking to the stairs. “I’ll guard the stairs while you get treated, go on in.”
“The rope was there to make sure any zombies or rogue humans couldn’t get into our supplies,” Sylvia adds.
The man thanks them quietly and enters the apartment. “Hello? Is anyone in there?” He calls out uncertainly. Austin walks to the edge of the door and peers in. Nothing. John implied he was going to escape but how? The window? Austin motions to Sylvia that it’s safe to enter and walks inside, wary for traps and people hiding. Austin makes sure to lock the door behind them, as leaving it open would have been a horrible oversight.
Sylvia slips inside quietly and glances around. She spies a rope leading from the refrigerator and out the window. Leaning towards Austin she whispers, “There’s a rope on the fridge leading out the window. He’s probably climbing. I’ll go spot his position and signal when to cut it. Prepare a heavy object to throw over the side just in case too.”
Austin nods and brings a stack of the largest, heaviest ceramic plates he could find from a cabinet to the windowsill.
Speaking to the man, Sylvia says sweetly, “There seems to be an intruder trying to get up to this room trying to steal our supplies, so sit tight while we go deal with him. Afterwards we can treat you and it still wouldn’t be too late.”
Austin chuckles at the charade and holds his knife to the taut rope. “Now?”
Sylvia peeks out of the window, exposing as little of her face as she could. She could see Mr. Marcel struggling to climb down and nods at Austin.
If he survives, I hope a zombie eats him. Austin saws through the rope where it meets the windowsill, since it was the easiest place to cut. The rope snaps once nearly cut through, and John presumably falls to his doom.
“Drop the plates. I don’t want him surviving,” Sylvia says coldly, any hint of compassion gone from her voice. This was an enemy. And he was going to pay.
“I was going to anyways.” Austin grins and drops one plate after another, all slightly spread out, watching them all zip down toward the ground.
Once the deed was done, she comments to Austin, “Now we just need to fix the last problem remaining here, right?”
“Mhm.” Austin nods. To the infected man, Austin says “Take a seat on the couch, I’ll go get the medical supplies now.” The couch just so happened to face away from Austin and Sylvia. The man nods anxiously and takes a seat.
Walking up steadily behind the man, Austin grips his hair and slams the knife through the man’s temple. The blade sinks to the hilt with a slick thud. Austin pulls the knife out and stabs the man in the back of the neck as well. The stab deflects off the spine and goes sideways, so Austin stabs two more times to be sure he succeeded. The dead man’s head sags, blood running down his back and face, staining the white polo shirt. Austin wipes his knife on the man’s shirt, getting most of the blood off.
Sylvia mutters, “You should throw the body out the window.”
“Yeah. Watch out for the blood, we can’t let it get on us. I need to clean my knife to.” Austin cautions. He drags the dead man to the window by his legs after tying a plastic bag around the man’s head to contain the blood.
Sylvia gives herself a ton of distance away from the dead body. I don’t want blood on me.
Dead bodies are heavy. Austin complains to himself and hoists the man up onto a chair that he sets under the window. By himself, he couldn’t lift the man to the window, so he did it in stages, lifting one half and setting it onto the chair, then pulling it fully on top of the chair. He repeated this again and tipped the man out the window. Hopefully he lands on John, or kills a zombies.
“Well. That was a thing.” Austin remarks, looking absently at the couch where he killed the man. He didn’t even know his name. Shaking his head, Austin cleans off his trench knife with a paper towel wetted from a water pitcher.
“Cuddle with me?” Sylvia asks, looking hopefully at Austin.
“Now? But, I have some blood on me.” Austin wipes down his chest and gloves carefully.
“Pwease?”
“Fiiiiiiiine.” Austin sighs under his breath but agrees.
@Dungeon Blaster
Looks like we aggro'd the boss. Oops. (How did he know it was specifically Sylvia and Austin? Oh well.)
That aside, what if the pair were to walk in while he was in the middle of climbing and just... cut the rope?
(Totally not going to do that *cough*) >.>
Looks like we aggro'd the boss. Oops. (How did he know it was specifically Sylvia and Austin? Oh well.)
That aside, what if the pair were to walk in while he was in the middle of climbing and just... cut the rope?
(Totally not going to do that *cough*) >.>
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