shivershiver — Roleplayer Guild

Amidst the chaos, Werner took a moment to get his bearings. He crashed at the intersection of 14th St. and Colorado Avenue, one of the busier in town, and it was showing. Cars were already lining up in the streets due to the accident, some of the more daring drivers attempting to navigate around the collision in the intersection. From his rough calculations, he was only about a 13 minute walk from Santa Monica Autoworks, his intended destination, and Werner saw no reason to deviate from the course. Werner hastily left the intersection, leaving behind the few items within his totaled car. The miscellaneous possessions certainly weren’t worth risking his life for. As Werner headed east on the sidewalk, a horn cut through the deafening panic behind him, then metal crunching and glass shattering into dust. If he had been a minute too slow, that cluster of sounds would undoubtedly include his screams as a heavy bumper broke his body.

Once he was off the main road and onto 14th Street, traffic calmed down considerably, almost to nothing in parts. Everything seemed normal, save for the lack of activity. He passed Memorial Park, usually filled with early runners, completely vacant. As Werner crossed the bridge over Santa Monica Freeway, however, it all became clear to him. Underneath, the road was packed with cars, bumper to bumper, all honking and screaming at the driver in front of them. All traffic was heading out, not in, a mass exodus of Americans desperately fleeing from an unknown threat. From the rate they were moving, Werner doubted they would get out of LA by nightfall. The bikes, however, dangerously splitting through the unoccupied space between cars, had a better chance of escaping from whatever was inducing panic throughout the city, but at a much higher risk. Once he crossed the bridge, Werner was met with the Woodlawn Cemetery, empty as usual. The solemn sight of the stone slabs reminded him of the woman a quarter mile back, her blood slowly seeping out of the lifeless corpse and onto the black pavement. Judging from the state of the city, it would be a long time before she received a proper burial, if any at all. What was wrong with the woman? Why did she attack him like that? Werner recalled how she seemed deceased as she sat there in her seat, chest lacking any movement. The moment he approached her, though, she came to life and started attacking him. When he was a kid in the deserts of Las Vegas, he remembered seeing a few rabid dogs in his trailer park, and his mother always told him to stay away from him. They attacked without being provoked, and that was exactly how that woman behaved. Did he kill a sick woman in cold blood? The very thought of it make the mechanic weak in his stomach yet again.

Once Werner reached Pico Boulevard, traffic returned, though much more civilized than before. He spotted his place of employment, Santa Monica Autoworks, and it seemed to be untouched by looters, along with every other business on the street. A few cars requiring a little work were missing off the lot, though Werner figured their owners had taken them to leave the city. On the horizon, the sun was nowhere to be seen, though it would appear within the next 45 minutes or so. The rusted chain link gate was locked shut to the parking lot, but luckily Werner still had the keys and slipped through before locking the gate behind him. He barely made it through the office door before he heard the harsh rack of a shotgun. “Friend or foe?” A gruff voice said, the face barely illuminated by the red glow of a burning cigarette.

“Relax, Luke, its me,” Werner replied with a chuckle as he flipped a light on, revealing a 50-something man sitting behind the receptionist’s desk with a 12-gauge Mossberg 500 pointed at his chest, though it was soon stowed away and replaced with a grin. Despite his age, Luke was still a fairly intimidating man, standing at 6’1 with some muscle on his frame from a lifetime of manual labor.

“Sorry Werner, I figured you were one of those bastards from Delmar here to cap the competition,” Luke said with a laugh, referring to Delmar Auto Repair, a rival workshop that sat adjacent to theirs. Werner and Luke moved to the back office, which was little more than a clubhouse for the employees. Luke pulled up a chair for Werner and sat in his own at his desk before flipping on the TV, which sat on an old refrigerator filled with cheap beer. It was a highly contagious virus of some sort, the newscaster said, and that all contact with infected individuals should be avoided. Anyone bitten should be quarantined immediately. Werner looked down at the imprint of human teeth the woman left on his sport leather jacket when she bit him, and thanked god it was a little chilly this morning. They were told to stay indoors and wait for everything to clear up. These instructions weren’t exactly being followed, as Werner thought of the thousands on the roads. He deducted the woman had been sick, but something about the virus made the infected violent. Did this justify his actions though?

“Everything’s going to hell in a handbasket out there,” Luke said, shaking his head. He took another drag from his cigarette before opening his drawer and pulling out a large manilla folder with several cylindrical lumps. He emptied the contents of it, all shotgun shells, and began counting them. “How’d you make it over here? I didn’t see the Nova outside.”

“I crashed it. Walked the rest of the way here,” He replied, failing to mention the woman.

“Fuck me, really? That beast was priceless!” Luke exclaimed as he finished his short count of the ammo. The two had spent countless hours bringing the car back from death, and it was almost like losing a child to the sentimental man. Werner seemed alright though, and that was all that mattered. “We’ve got ten shells, and six in the shotgun. All buckshot,” he said, nodding to the Mossberg. “Should be enough to scare away anyone stupid enough to come here.”

Werner hoped he was right, but he doubted this would be the first place people would choose to loot. The mechanic walked through the door from the office into the garage and searched for anything he could use to defend himself. He grabbed a crowbar and a hammer before returning to Luke, who chuckled at the sight. “Now we’re ready for anything,” Werner boasted with a slight grin as he tucked the hammer into his pant pocket. Still, the older mechanic detected another emotion in his voice, and knew what was on his mind.

“She’ll be fine, Werner. She’s smart, believe me,” Luke reassured him, though he was not so sure himself. The girl was Florenda Marino, and though they had separated almost three months ago due to Werner’s other part-time job, he still deeply cared for her. Werner hadn’t seen her in the time since their messy break-up, but Luke had, and her stomach was a little larger than usual. He knew that Florenda was an amateur model, and she would never let herself go, so something told him the woman had other reasons for their split.

“I hope so, Luke.”

DarkRecon said
That was the general idea I was gunning for Wayne. I figured one RPer should be a military guy or gal. Again, I saw a doctor type character but I also thought the military would have a field medic for this sort of mess. Perhaps trying to find a cure or a way to control this virus but eh, just someone who can help heal injuries would be good enough. I actually thought about LAX to start since most of the characters are there but...well it's up to you. I still need to think of a character more specific too.This may come off as perverted depending but I wasn't sure what "gender" to make the field medic. Do you have too many males or females? I just consider these sort of things before committing to a C.S.

What, my character outside LAX isn't good enough for you? Just kidding, looking forward to having you aboard! Right now the men outnumber the women I believe, but I don't think anyone will be upset if you decide to add another fella to the mix. Of course, I'm not the GM so the decision isn't mine to make.

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