Avatar of ThirdHourIII
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    1. ThirdHourIII 8 yrs ago

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Bio

I'm from a small, boring town, where the only fun thing to do is drugs, sports, or work. The only fun thing I do is play the drums, so as you can tell I'm quite boring. Writing and words intrigue me, so I'm always open to improving my writing ability. I have a bunch of interests that I have no interest in listing.

Most Recent Posts

@Exit I'd be interested in taking the last spot, the non-bender. Would it be alright if I made them a novice at chi-blocking?
I'm still working on my character, just have to finish the biography and his powers. He should be completed by the end of this week.
Or even spice it up sometimes and use a random power generator, that's what I did, it's a fun challenge. @Oliver
I just finished reading up on pretty much everything, I'll be creating a CS in the next few days.
This sounds like a great concept, very interested!
The idea, lore, and effort behind this is amazing, interested!
Jayson Voss





Eastern Pennsylvania. May 5th, 2074.


Jayson took a drag of his cigarette and surveyed the other survivors, we're a sorry-looking bunch... he thought to himself. Here they were, up Shit's Creek with no paddle and a leak in the boat. No weapons, food, or water. He was hoping everyone would stick around and try to create some sort of plan or at least adjust his, but no such luck. It seemed some of them weren't to keen on being part of a group, which was fine really, to each his own. At least he was trying to do something, that had to count for something right?

One man finally broke the overbearing silence and finally spoke up. He asked about the others and suggested they stay and wait. Jayson pondered this, but it seemed too risky.

"Not to be a downer but, I'm pretty sure no one else got out of there alive and if they did then they're on their own now. We got lucky we all ended up here. It's too risky to go back there anyways, Zeds were all over that place and all the screams probably attracted more, that place is a death trap now."

Jay was just about to suggest that they at least start moving, anywhere, he didn't even care where. He believed staying static led to being trapped very quickly, especially with these Zeds having that annoying horde mentality. But he held his tongue when a woman with short hair and freckles finally spoke up. She seemed irritated with him, or maybe she wasn't up for his bullshit this early in the morning. It surprised him that so many people he met were taken aback by his harsh and blunt exterior. This was a fucked up and twisted world, who survived by being nice these days?

Voss listened to her words carefully and paused a few seconds to gather his response. "Look, I'm not claiming to be a genius or anything like that, but I feel like this is common sense. Staying in one spot gets you killed, a perfect example of that would be, ya know... Last night. I honestly don't care which way we go as long as we move. If we're active and alert and moving we can outmaneuver Zeds, unless I'm overestimating your abilities. And honestly, I don't even care if you all don't want to group up or work with each other. I'm just trying to give you guys options, so do you have any ideas?"

Jayson eyed the girl, and then continued once again.

"Didn't you hear that radio broadcast? If there's a chance that there is a place free of zombies then I want to check it out. It's probably a trap or a lie but hell, it's better than sitting around waiting to get chomped on. I don't know where the hell it is but West sounds better than nothing. Worst comes to worst I'll find another settlement... Hopefully. Look, you don't have to come, none of you do. But I'm not going to sit around all day waiting for that horde to come back or for another horse to come. But if any of you want to come you're more than welcome to... so yeah."

Jayson ended his little speech awkwardly and then strode over to the tool bench to see if he could use anything that was there. Even a knife would make him feel safer, he could work with a knife. Using his hands was riskier and usually required more effort, something he couldn't afford with the lack of water and food.
Jayson Voss





Eastern Pennsylvania. May 4th, 2074. 11:27 PM


Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jayson Voss has had quite a few dances with death in his lifetime, but never as intimate, never as close as the one he was about to waltz. One moment everything was fine, he was in the middle of telling a story to this middle aged man named Frank. It was about the time he had to run from some Zeds who had caught him, pants down, in the act of pissing on a old maple tree. He had Frank slapping his knee and crying tears of laughter, a beautifully normal droplet of time, it reminded him of how he loved to hear his father tell stories. Jay took a drag of the cigarette he had been smoking and chuckled to Frank's remark on his story, the chuckle turned into a slight cough at the end, perks of smoking. One moment, happiness existed in the amber of time they sat in and in the next moment it was ripped away just as swiftly as it came.

Zombies were on the safe house in seconds, a warning shouted out from the lookout but at that point it was too late. They were on the survivors. The glass doors were shattered and busted open in seconds. People dropped like flies, blood painted everything. Jayson scrambled for his weapons, why had he set them down? Fucking idiot, they were the Zeds' property now. Jayson looked around as his fellow survivors died from bites and tears and rips and he just... Shut down. Survival mode took hold of Voss's mind, adrenaline poured in. Scanning for an escape route, his eyes found the fire exit and his legs took over. His athletic body propelled him past the bare aisles and he used his shoulder to barge through the door. A Zed had been banging on the other side when Jayson slammed through and the Zed ended up square on its back, Jay jumped over it. Voss sprinted for the tree line and sat in wait for the others, if any were to survive. He hunkered down and made sure to stay perfectly still to make sure the Zeds never noticed him.

Eastern Pennsylvania. May 5th, 2074. 5:30 AM


Jayson jerked awake, a restless sleeper as always. Thankfully no one was close to him, he was known for thrashing in his sleep, nightmares had a way of doing that to him. It was the same nightmare as every night and the outcome wasn't any different, his parents always died in front of his eyes. Already in a bad mood, Jay shoved himself from the hay he was sleeping on and slipped out of the barn. He decided to scope out the area, make sure everyone was safe. He had seen enough people die for awhile, any more would probably drive him through the roof. Absentmindedly, Jayson retrieved the pack of cigarettes that had been nestled in his back pocket and grabbed a cigarette from the pack and lit it. A morning smoke had a knack for clearing his usually frazzled brain.

After his little patrol of the area, he returned to the barn. The others were still sleeping, except for one. The lookout from the gas station was awake. Jayson shot him a glare, the genius couldn't even alert the survivors at the station in time, fucking useless. Voss stood in the doorway of the barn and slammed his fist against the door frame a few times. "Rise and shine sweethearts, that horde could be coming back through here at any moment. We need a plan and we also need to high tail it the fuck outta here."

Jayson would wait until all were awake and ready to discuss the next course of action to speak up. "I say we head west and hit every spot we can to gather up some gear 'cause I'm sure as hell not going back to that shit show of a gas station for only a pistol and a pocket knife." Jay looked around at the people in front of him, "or does anyone else have any other bright fucking ideas?"
@Reflection Ah, Sounds good.
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