Horror F E E D (A Zombie Apocalypse)

Dr. Michiyo Miharu - Morning, Austin Texas
In the Pharmacy

Michiyo stopped as the Captain came near, the woman holding out her arm, warning Michi to stop and watched as the Captain took an empty magazine, and tossed it on the floor, near the door. Michi kept her blade low, as she watched with interest. The magazine hit the door with a resounding thump, which to Michi seemed so much louder than it really was, and then clattered to the floor.

The Captain then raised her gun up aiming it at the door waiting. Michi frowned slightly, but simply watched and waited. The door very slowly swung open, just a small bit, and then Michi saw a small black and white cat walked through and meowed. Michi smirked, but didnt say a thing. She was pretty sure that the Captain would not appreciate her thoughts about fresh meat. The Captain moved over to look at the cat, searching for something. Mekaila frowned, as the cat rubbed up against the woman's leg. "Must know the difference between feeders and unaffected humans," she whispered. Michi looks at the cat. Didnt look starving. But it didnt act feral either. "Think someone might be taking care of it. Too friendly to be a stray." Michiyo told the Captain. She then shrugged her shoulders. "Your not trying to take a bite. Good enough for it." Michi laughed softly, and moved up a bit more, listening for a moment. Good thing the feeders tended to be a bit noisy. All that annoying groaning, and gibbering, was usually a hint that they were around. But that was not always the case. But the cat was not freaking out, and it didnt coming flying in, so that was a good hint that nothing was too close to the door.

Michiyo put her ear to the wall next to the door, looking and listening for anything nearby. They needed to leave the area, and leave it quickly. So far, so good. Michi kept her blade up, just in case.





Tag: Falcon, spycoder9

 

IC: Mekaila Carlos
Austin Texas

"Your not trying to take a bite. Good enough for it."

Mekaila smirked at the comment. It did sound about right. The cat continued to rub her leg causing her to frown. She lost her cat about the time TSHIF, she assumed the cat died. She looked down again as yellow eyes stared up at her as if seeking permission to jump into her arms. She put the safety on and placed the gun on her belt. “Leela, is this where have you been all this time?” She questioned as the cat jumped into her arms and purred loudly and licked her face. “I missed you too girl. I thought I lost you for good.”

Mekaila hugged the cat looking her over for bites but didn’t find any. She placed the cat down and nodded off to the side. Leela lay down and watched her causing her to smile. She picked up the gun and turned the safety off. She walked to the door and slowly pushed it open listening for any moaning and groaning but didn’t hear anything. She stepped into the room noting Leela hadn’t ran off yet which only made her think there was no one hiding back here.

Mekaila stepped into the room and slowly made her way to the back. So far so good.

spycoder9, Ktala

 

GM OOC: A shame I couldn't keep this going longer than it did. It had so much potential, and I really loved the characters you guys created. Time got away from me though, and I had invested way more time in A War of Kings. Not for sure now, but if enough people were interested in keeping this going, I might could.

 

OOC: I am!

 

OOC:
If you can handle this and Kings... Im willing to come back too!!
At least this one you dont have to update QUITE as much as.. that OTHER one!

 

OOC: A player from each storyline. That's enough for me to bring it back!

Is greyjedi125, Falcon, Master Selkath, or Jedi_padawan_leigh interested in returning? I want to make sure I won't be leaving anyone out. Also, if anyone new is reading this, you can join! I'm always open to new characters.

I'll be doing things a bit differently when we return. The game will be set up in comic form (such as, what we've written so far, that would be Issue #00). Each comic would be relatively short, with a theme overarching it. I'm obviously mimicking The Walking Dead here. I also plan on incorporating the "no character is safe" rule here. Everyone knows from A War of Kings, I like to kill big characters.

 

OOC: I am interested in returning

 

When you put it like that, how can anyone resist? Count me in!

 

OOC: I'm in

 

OOC: I'll give Leigh another day or two, but everyone else has returned. Better than I expected.

I'll start working on a wrap-up for Issue #00.

 

if you want to intro a new character for the next issue, i'm interested.

 

here, with the approval of the GM.

Name: Roslyn Grigson
Age: 24
Gender: Female


Equipment: A few knives, backpack, few changes of clothes, a couple canteens for water or other useful liquids (one with water, the other empty), spare pair of shoes, couple first aid kits, basic toiletries, some energy bars for emergencies, a sturdy walking stick that’s a bit taller than she is (so about 5’9 for the stick), a sleeping bag rolled up on top of the backpack, a pistol, has only one box of ammo, a sketchpad, a few drawing pencils, a pencil sharpener and two pictures, one of her with the couple that saved her life, and the other of Aaliyah during a happier time.

Pre-FEED: A happy life is not something that anyone would ever say that Roslyn had. It was so bad that she ran away at the age of ten, and lived on the streets for six years, still managing to go to school (difficult though that was), until a nice couple found her when she was 16. They took her in, and helped her reacclimate to basic human nature again. There are traits she’s never kicked, and probably never will now, but she was at least happy. She ended up getting a scholarship to college, where she studied graphic design. Roslyn ended up getting mugged on campus as a junior, and Aaliyah saved her. They became fast friends, rooming together the following semester, and remained inseparable after.

Post-FEED: After things started coming out about the FEED most of the campus that they were living at left to go be with their families. As Roslyn had nowhere else to go, Aaliyah stayed with her. Aaliyah also would not abandon the horses, and along with three of the other four who stayed with them, have been taking care of the herd ever since. Roslyn and a guy named Jay were the acting sentries, and over the course of the last year Aaliyah has become the defacto leader of the group, as she’s the one who has the training to defend them most should anything go bad. While she’s taught the others some, Roslyn knows that without Aaliyah she’d have died at least twice since the apocalypse.

Over the course of the year, their group has expanded to 15 as more people showed up, and if they weren’t what seemed like trouble causers they were turned away. If they were nice, the little group let them stay the night as there was plenty of food for the time being, as well as med supplied due to the nurse practitioner's office. Those that had useful skills were invited to stay, others that weren’t were politely encouraged to leave. There have been a few groups of the FEED that have come out there, but the group has managed to repel them so far. There is also a garden that has been started, but it’s anyones guess as to whether much will come of it that first year. Roslyn works with that a lot now, not feeling safe being alone as she would be at a watch post. Most of the group kind of resents her, as her survival skills outside the city as they are are rather minute. But no one has done anything to her because everyone values Aaliyah.
​

 

Name: Aaliyah Hayes



Age: 24

Gender: Female

Equipment: Bow and quiver of hand-made arrows, two long knives, pocketknife, camping backpack, two canteens kept full of water at all times, a first-aid kit, a few emergency power bars, sturdy walking stick a few inches taller than her, rolled-up sleeping bag, two paracord bracelets (totaling 10 ft of paracord per bracelet), small bags of useful herbs and plants, a sturdy pair of hiking boots and a picture of her and Roslyn.

Pre-FEED: From the outside, Aaliyah had a pretty easy life, but she always had a hard time with herself, her ability to tell reality from fantasy fractured, which she went to a weekly therapist for. Her parents were very into organic, natural foods and remedies and she had a very active lifestyle, participating in a variety of sports, including track, martial arts, and competitive swim, throughout her school years. She was double-majoring in Equine Studies and Physical Therapy before the FEED. She met Roslyn, her first real friend in college, when she saved her from a mugging their Junior year. The two moved in together, sharing a dorm and they've since been inseparable.

Post-FEED: After things started coming out about the FEED most of the campus that they were living at left to go be with their families. As Roslyn had nowhere else to go, Aaliyah stayed with her. Aaliyah also would not abandon the horses, and along with three of the other four who stayed with them, have been taking care of the herd ever since. Roslyn and a guy named Jay were the acting sentries, and over the course of the last year Aaliyah has become the de-facto leader of the group, as she’s the one who has the training to defend them most should anything go bad. While she’s taught the others some, Roslyn knows that without Aaliyah she’d have died at least twice since the apocalypse.

Over the course of the year, their group has expanded to 15 as more people showed up, and if they weren’t what seemed like trouble causers they were turned away. If they were nice, the little group let them stay the night as there was plenty of food for the time being, as well as med supplied due to the nurse practitioner's office. Those that had useful skills were invited to stay, others that weren’t were politely encouraged to leave. There have been a few groups of the FEED that have come out there, but the group has managed to repel them so far. There is also a garden that has been started, but it’s anyone's guess as to whether much will come of it that first year. Roslyn works with that a lot now, not feeling safe being alone as she would be at a watch post. Most of the group kind of resents her, as her survival skills outside the city, as they are, are rather minute. But no one has done anything to her because everyone values Aaliyah.

 

END OF ISSUE #OO: SURVIVAL​

MARIA JESSICA DUNN​

Stay quiet. Move quick.

That was all Maria had. . .again.

Her mantra and her backpack.

The Tillman’s had been kind enough, considering the last few people she’d come across, but they didn’t want her to stay. No one ever did. They gave her food and re-wrapped her arm, and then they sent her on her way. She had wanted to stay there more than she had any other place. Had there been any tears left, she would have shed them.

That was two days before.

Now she was on the move again. She didn’t even know where she was going anymore. Is there any point? Several times she considered collapsing on the ground. Letting the Feeders have their way with her. Perhaps she could be at peace then.

But she never once gave in.

Maria had survived this long. She would keep on surviving. If that was all she had left to do, she would do it.

It was as she crept out of some foliage that they found her.

There was a family of Feeders. Quiet ones, their throats had been ripped out. They were on a different path, but when she stepped out in front of them, they came straight for her.

Without a word, she lifted her tire iron and swung.

It caught the small one in the head. It was a kid, younger than her. The thick blood splattered across Maria’s chest, but she paid it no mind. She had to keep swinging.

A mailman. . .this one was still in uniform. A rotted uniform, falling off of him, but still in uniform. She swung again and again. So much blood spattering. Others were coming now. Many and more.

She kept swinging.

Kept swinging.

Swinging.

She fell to the dirt suddenly. Her tire iron rolled away.

Maria turned her head aside, prepared for the inevitable doom that had become this world, when several gunshots went off. Each one caught a Feeder in the head. One after the other they collapsed.

“Child,” A woman hissed from a bush, “Child, come with us!” Maria didn’t even remember her weapon as she stumbled across the undead carnage to the bush. The woman had a gun in both hands. Her hair was whipped back in a tight ponytail, showing off the several scars on her neck. Behind her stood three others, all with assorted weapons in their hands.

“Who…”

“No time.” The woman tucked one gun in her belt, using her free hand to grab Maria’s. “You’ve made quite a Feeder hotbed over here. You get bit?”

“I…” Maria looked at herself. “No…no, I wasn’t.”

“Good.” The woman looked to the others. “You can come back with us.”

“Come back where?”

“The Sanctuary.” The woman smiled. “Your new home.”

---

She woke up naked.

Maria lifted her head from a stone floor, eyes fluttering in the sudden light. Too bright. It came from above. Down where she was, there was only darkness. A darkness unlike that she had ever known.

Shakily she got on all fours. I’m…I’m naked…She gave a little yelp.

“Child,” A voice called down from the light. “Your time has come.”

“Where. . .where am I?” She shivered, wrapping one arm over chest, while she put the other over her eyes. The floor was so cold, and the light was so bright.

“You’re standing bare before God. His light will cleanse you of all your demons.”

“I. . .I don’t. . .” Maria tried standing on wobbly legs, but fell. The floor was wet too. Water…a closer look proved something else entirely. It was red. She knew what this was.

Blood.

She cried out, stumbling backwards and slipping more.

“Scream, child. Call out to God for mercy.” The light sounded so familiar. She couldn’t place it.

Casting her eyes up one more time, she saw the light was far above her head. The darkness around her had vague shapes now. She lay in a wide cavern, with passageways surrounding her in a circle. Each was blocked off with gated steel bars.

Faintly, she could hear noises.

“Where am I?” She called. Her hands were soaked with blood now. She tried wiping them on her thighs, but they were dripping as well. I’m dying, oh god I’m dying...But she didn’t have a mark on her. It wasn’t her blood. “Please! Tell me where I am!”

“You’re in the Pit of Deliverance. It’s the sinner’s final stand, before the Lord calls him home.”

“I’m not. . .” She couldn’t stop the tears now. “I’m not a sinner. . .please. . .why are you doing this to me?!”

“You are a sinner, child. We all are. That ignorance is why you didn’t pass your trials.”

“The. . .the trials?” It all came back to her now. The things they had made her do. She cried even harder, falling back to her knees. “Let me try again. Please. I’ll do better. I promise. Please.”

“You’ve had your chance.” She recognized the voice now. She knew who he was. “You’re going home. You’ll be rid of this sinful world.”

The noises were close now. Gnawing, snapping, moaning. She knew that sound too.

After everything I did to survive. . .everything. . .

She sobbed in her bloody hands.

The man of the light began to pray. He was echoed by other voices, a choir. “. . .make her going easy, Lord. . . .bring Maria Dunn into your home, and fill her eternity with happiness. . .”

The steel bars rose slowly. From the darkness came rotting corpses, stumbling towards her with arms outstretched.

Feeders.

All around her.

“…leave her old, sinful shell behind…”

She stood and fell again. One leaped on her, biting at air. She kicked its head with the heel of her foot.

“…accept your child, Lord. Bring her home with open arms…”

Another snapped her hand in its jaws.

“…ease her suffering…”

She screamed.

“…she’s calling to you she’s crying out for you Lord accept her welcome her love her…”

Then the zombies. . .

The zombies did what they always do. . .


F E E D

 

OOC: A few announcements before we kick off the official reboot!

Grey has respectfully withdrawn from the game for personal reasons. His character will continue on in the game though (hard to forget such a unique one).

Also, I wanted to announce my new Co-GM: The Great No One!! (I just realized how ironic that sounds when you read it. ) He’ll be doing a storyline parallel to the ones I’m running. Several of you might find yourselves led over there at one point or another.

So, without further ado, let the games begin. . .

ISSUE #01: BEGINNINGS​

Every story begins somewhere.​

​

Even in a zombie apocalypse. ​

​

Of course, by this point, the only stories left to be told are those of the survivors.​

​

And, in this new, cruel world, someone’s story can be ended abruptly.​

​

It’s only those that survive, and survive, and survive again. . .​

those that risk every moral they’ve ever known. . .​

They have the good tales. ​

​

These are their stories. ​

​

And it's only the beginning.​

​

​

 

OOC: Hey everyone. Happy to be aboard this interesting game, and hopefully I can help make things more interesting. I'll be running things in UT Austin, and the surrounding area. Hopefully it's interesting enough for you all to read, and even more so should you end up there. A small community of 15 survivors have managed to make it over the last year, but hardly without strife. Things are about to get a lot more interesting for this little group...



IC: Roslyn Grigson/ UT Austin/ Outside Austin

Something caused Roslyn to jerk upright, knocking the arm that had been draped across her away. Breathing heavily she looked around, and spotted Aaliyah, or Aya as she called her, laying beside her and almost immediately began to calm down. It had been a bad night, as many of them were when she was plagued by memories that she had tried to shut out her entire life. The number of nearly sleepless nights before she’d met Aaliyah outnumbered those that she’d actually slept well, usually due to simple exhaustion. Ever since Aaliyah had saved her from a mugger, they’d been fast friends, and Roslyn had lost count of the number of times she’d helped to calm her down.

Blinking, trying to figure out what had woken her, Roslyn considered why she was in bed with Aaliyah yet again. In many ways she felt like a child having bad dreams, that needed the simple comfort of her parents. But that was something she’d never had as a child, her parents hardly being the type that you could go to for comfort. She’d never had that at any point in her life, until about a year after they’d met and were sharing a dorm room at UT Austin. Aaliyah had heard her crying one night, and come in to comfort her, and ultimately Roslyn had needed her there most nights. After the feed everything had gotten worse for a few months, and now… well, she suspected that Aaliyah needed to not be alone either. Knowing you had one person that you could be safe with was far too valuable to take for granted now, with how cold everything and everyone had become.

Banging on the door to their small apartment drew her attention, and she climbed out of bed rapidly, hoping that Aaliyah was still asleep. The other woman had it so much harder than she did, being out with the herd of horses most days. Gardening was so much easier, especially at this point. All she had to do was watch over things and make sure they were watered correctly. Sure, carrying the buckets of water was tiring, and wore on her back something terrible, but there were far more difficult jobs. Jobs that she was utterly unsuited for, which made many of the others dislike her.

Grabbing some pants, she hurried towards the front door, nearly tripping over the legs of her pants as she tried to get them on. Managing to get a grip on the back of the couch, she barely kept from falling flat on her face. That’d look great, coming to the door with my face bleeding. Finally getting to the door, she stopped long enough to get her pants fastened, and opened it right as the man outside started to knock again. He was a rather large man, with a crooked nose that had obviously been broken a couple of times. Hard, brown eyes set in a lined, forty-seven year old face that whenever they were focused on her as they were now always scared Roslyn and made her flinch slightly. Greg McPherson was not who she wanted to see first thing in the morning.

“Go get Aaliyah. I have nothing to say to you,” Greg said gruffly, crossing his arms. A large part of why Roslyn did not like Greg was that he was captain of the “Roslyn is a useless git” club, and while not actively trying to oust her because of Aaliyah, none of them wanted her around, and should she ever get cornered by any of the feeders… well, they wouldn’t go out of their way to save her.

Making herself small, Roslyn said, “She’s still asleep. Can’t you just tell me what you need? Maybe I can help.” Her voice was soft and timid, if slightly hopeful.

A snort exploded from him, as Greg obviously tried to stifle laughter at the idea. “Right. Just get me Aaliyah. We have a problem, and she’s the one that needs to make a decision. You know just as well as I do that no one would listen to you.” Greg never said her name. It was always you, or useless, depending on his mood. Even though she’d saved his life once, that she hadn’t been able to move the feeding trough that had fallen on him, trapping him, had made Greg never want to be around her again. Being trapped during a feeder attack was usually certain death, and everyone knew it. Even though she’d pushed herself to tears trying to help, physically hurting herself in the process, Greg had never forgiven her for being too small and weak to do anything.

“I don’t want to wake her up. She had a bad day, and didn’t sleep very well. Please, if you can wai-” Greg didn’t give her a chance to finish.

“Look, you useless little piece of crap, we need Aaliyah, and we need her now. I don’t give a rat’s ass how tired she is, this has to be dealt with right now.” Greg started walking forward, obviously intending to go and wake her up himself.

Not having more than a second to respond, Roslyn did something that she would never have tried if she’d been given time to think about it. She stepped in front of Greg, blocking the way in and said, “You aren’t allowed in unless invited.” Her voice was surprisingly firm, and even she didn’t know where she found the confidence for it, but she would not let this jerk go and disturb Aaliyah.

Like a cloud passing in front of the sun, Greg’s face darkened. Dangerously. Taking a step forward, getting into Roslyn’s personal space, he simply glowered at her. The confidence that she’d had shriveled under his glare, and she started to shrink backwards. His voice came out quiet, and she recognized the quiet fury that was there from the bad years as a child. “How dare you get in my way. You, of all people, should know what I do to little pieces of shi-” He cut off suddenly, and Roslyn didn’t have any idea why.

Turning around, realizing that she had started cowering, all of her attention on Greg, she hadn’t heard Aaliyah come into the room. Great. I’m so useless I can’t even stop her from being disturbed. It was an irrational thought, she knew it, but there it was. Tears began to well in her eyes, everything this last week had just been too much. But she would not cry in front of Greg. She was already vulnerable enough, and Roslyn refused to be open about it in front of anyone else.

“Ah, Aaliyah. We got someone who wants to stay for a couple days, but a couple of the boys don’t really like the look of him. You get last say, as usual,” Greg said, his voice and expression suddenly pleasant. He stood impassively outside the door, waiting for a response. Roslyn stood just inside, having moved to the side so that she was no longer in the center of the big oaf’s vision. She would not cry, but the trembling she could do nothing about.

TAG: Shira A'dola

 

OOC: So, Spy’s given me someone that would be fairly nearby the campus at this point. Master Selkath, I’m looking forward to making your life more interesting.


Dylan Phillips
A Day’s walk from UT Austin

Things had been pleasant back at the waystation. He’d been safe, had too good meals, and overall been able to experience a small slice of peace in this hellhole that was post-feeder Austin. The sun was stretching out towards noon, and it had been a few days since he’d seen anyone around other than the stray feeder that was easily avoided or killed, depending on how the mood had struck him.

This was the kind of day he would have enjoyed back in his normal life, possibly sitting by an open window and fiddling with some old weapon or other memorabilia from world war two. At least he was having a pleasant walk, what with having come across nothing to attract his attention. In fact, Dylan had spied a nice little copse of trees nearby that he was considering going and taking a short lunch break at. After all, everyone has to eat, be it food or the word.

With a lighter heart than he’d had in weeks, Dylan headed over that way, feeling nearly jaunty, thanking God for days like this still existing. Unfortunately for him, what he was going to find when he got there was anything but tranquil.

*****

Copse of Trees

Three men lay near a fire pit, a few unbroken but empty bottles of Jack Daniels strewn about the shaded area. They were shabby, obviously making no attempt to keep up any type of hygiene as would be well apparent by the smell of anyone approaching downwind. Only one of them was awake at the moment, and he wasn’t very big, his skin going slightly yellow due to a case of jaundice that was starting to show. Greasy brown hair hung just below his shoulders, a thrice broken nose that had never been fixed, and a big bowie knife were the most notable things about the man.

Letting out a loud belch, he took the last swig of another bottle. It had been one hell of a party the previous night, and he looked over the spoils from the small group they’d raided. He was specifically thrilled with the metal bat. It would make killing those damn feeders so much easier. Sure, there were other useful bits of things, clothes (it was an absolute shame about the blood on them, the coat was nice), water (which they drank as little as they could get away with), food, all the usual things that anyone who’d survived this long would have on them. At least if they were going to keep on surviving. But the bat? The bat was his, and reminded him of little league back when he’d actually been a normal person.

Bending down and hefting it with one hand, a grin split his face, revealing broken and rotting teeth. He was so focused on the bat, just as he had been on the fire before, that he didn’t even remember the other thing that was quite precious the three reprobates. A whimper drew his attention to the ground, and the grin turned lewd. Laying on the ground nearby, hog tied, and wearing only her t-shirt, was a young woman, certainly no more than fourteen. That didn’t matter to the man in the slightest, and he started walking over towards her, dropping his pants, intentions very clear.

“OH GOD, PLEASE NO! NOT AGAIN!” Rang out over the camp grounds as the girl screamed, and screamed again, desperation clear in her voice, “PLEASE GOD! HELP ME!” Sobs began wracking her body as she tried to wiggle away, anything to prolong the pain that was coming, knowing how utterly helpless she was.

@Master Selkath

 

EDIT: I suppose I should say this is spyproved

Name: Jeremiah Quinton Horskand
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Equipment: Basic med kit assembled from both scavenged and improvised materials and legitimate medical equipment and such
Pre-FEED:(Life prior to the apocalypse) He was a doctor in a large, prestigious hospital, though he never says where. He is not from around Austin, and seems northern, if anything.
Post-FEED:(The past year of survival) He’s been a wanderer, really. He has avoided populated areas since before the outbreak, keeping away from people as much as possible. If there are no people, there are no zombies. Eventually he made his way to Austin, where he understood there was a place for him to do good and, potentially, work on a cure. That goal in mind, he has just recently joined up with a group at UT.

 

OOC:Welcome aboard chukles. Hope you enjoy it. And... Here... We... Go...


Phil Witherston
Walking through UT Austin

Phil found himself walking towards the Medical Lab with cargo he'd never seen coming. One of the feeders had been trapped in a crate, and should be exactly what that new Doctor, Jeremiah whats-is-name had specifically asked for. It was unnerving having his back to it while he rode the horse that was pulling the wagon the thing was on, but to find a cure... Well, it was something that Phil had given up on a long time ago. But hopefully having a real Doc who'd survived all this mess for a year could help fix things. Maybe.

Riding past what had once been an office building, Phil caught sight of the Med Labs, and sighed in relief. He was one of three hunters their little group had, along with Mallory and Jared, but he was definitely the oldest of the group at fifty years of age with his hair starting to go gray. He'd never married, having preferred the company of a good dog to any woman he'd ever met. Mallory was a pretty young brunette with the typical tale of her father wished she was a boy and, well, this being Texas, she'd learned to hunt, fish, field dress a rabbit or whatever else she might catch by the age of twelve. At least she was out of her teens, although she never did tell anyone her age, but she'd been a student here when everything went to hell. Jared on the other hand... well, he was fifteen and had been a rancher's son. When a horde of feeders had hit the ranch and wiped out all the hands, Jared had been forced to run. He'd been here longer than Phil, being the first new person to be added to their little family, such as it was. Scrawny was a word that fit Jared far better than Phil would have liked, but he was at least healthy and didn't look underfed. And boy could he run. He'd proven that when he lured in the feeder.

A shiver ran down Phil's spine as he heard the thing in the crate scream in... frustration was likely the correct word. It obviously wanted to be out and eating, as all the rest of it's kind always wanted, and having food in reach but unable to do anything to it must have been torture. Well, as much as anything could be for something that only wanted to eat. Phil was not overly fond of the idea that he was food, but that was the long and short of it. That's all anything was to a feeder.

"Phil, you mind if Jared and I go get some sleep? I... had trouble with that thing howling all night." Jared and her, well, they were close as it got to being a couple in this day and age. And the age gap didn't matter as much. Now either you were alive and mature, or dead. Or a feeder, but that was as good as dead. "We'll send Greg or someone over to help you unload." He'd basically had to get the crate on the wagon by himself, neither of them big enough to really help.

Waving his hand, Phil didn't actually respond, as he was a man of very few words. That was another reason he preferred a dog, they didn't talk. He knew what they wanted to go do, and frankly didn't care. Their parents were dead, and if they found some form of comfort and love in each other than so be it. Hopefully she wouldn't get pregnant though, that'd cause it's own problems. Least of which would be losing a hunter for a while.

He could hear the grin in her voice as Mallory said, "Thanks Phil. Catch you later." A slight smirk found his lips as he heard them walk off. Kids. While he'd been one once, it had been so long ago he barely remembered what it felt like. Another shriek set his teeth on edge, and he knew it would be wrecking havoc on anyone still trying to sleep. If you were alive at this point, you knew that sound. You knew to wake up, and be ready to fight for your life as soon as you heard it, or that shuffle sound that they all made when they walked.

Arriving at the Doc's building, Jeremiah climbed down and tied the horse up, he thought it's name was Carrot, before heading into the building. It was the kind of place that desperately needed lights, and echoed terribly. Why that doctor had set up here, and slept there as well, was beyond him, but everyone had different tastes. He hated the thought of it because he'd never know exactly where the noises he heard were coming from. Echoes tended to distort things like that. That's why he slept out in the open unless it was raining. That and he loved looking up at the stars.

Several twists and turns later he found the Doc's lab. Phil had no idea what a lab was supposed to look, so he had no clue if there was anything fishy going on. What he did know was that all that medical stuff gave him the willies. He'd avoided doctors his whole life as much as he could, Phil had never handled sick things well. Or dying people.

Clearing his throat, Phil said from just inside the door. "We got that feeder you wanted. Think you can help me get it somewhere secure?" That was the only reason that Aaliyah had agreed to this, the Doc had sworn he could keep it from getting out. Phil wasn't entirely sure about that, but he followed orders unless it had to do with hunting. That was the only place he felt he probably knew better than the others, and history had proven him right more often than not.

TAG: Chukles38

 

OOC: Combined post with The Great No One

IC: Aaliyah Hayes
UT Austin, Outside of Austin

Something caused Aaliyah to wake up suddenly. As was second nature, her body kept still, eyes closed, breathing steady to feign sleep as she tried to identify what had disturbed her. The cause was obvious; a male voice, kept low but tainted with fury and what she assumed was disdain. Greg, talking to…was that Roslyn? It must be, she wasn’t next to Aaliyah anymore. She groaned internally. Putting Greg and Roslyn in the same room was always a disaster. The poor girl had nearly no self-confidence and that, with the addition of her lack of physical strength, made her an easy target. Greg in particular had a nasty temper when it came to the young ginger woman. Something about a trough Roslyn couldn’t lift off the man a few months back. What Greg seemed to forget was that Roslyn had actually saved his life, ending the Feeder who had been about to attack him in his vulnerable state.

A sigh escaped her as she sat up, both mourning the loss of the extra sleep she could have had and the irritation that it was Greg waking her and not something more peaceful. Her slim hands quickly wove her long hair into a loose braid before she went to go see what the commotion was. Roslyn’s voice grew firm, keeping Greg from entering their flat and she smirked. She always felt a swell of pride when Roslyn stood up to someone. She did have a backbone, despite what many of the community said, you just needed to push her enough for her to really hold her ground. The tone change in Greg’s voice made her pause outside the door to the living area, brow deepening to a frown before her eyes hardened in fury. If I ever get my hands on him…or get an excuse to kick him out of here, I’ll do it in an instant. Insult was one thing. People had freedom of speech, it was just a nasty habit. Threats, on the other hand…well that was a whole different ballpark and she wouldn’t stand for it.

As soon as she walked out, she saw Greg’s tone and demeanor straighten out hastily, feigning respect as he informed her of someone at the gate. She nodded curtly before turning to Roslyn, voice gentler than she was feeling. “I’ll take care of this, do you mind getting us some breakfast real quick?” The woman nodded and retreated from the room. Aaliyah had a feeling Roslyn wasn’t too hungry right now, but she had asked more as an out to let her get out of the situation without Greg getting an excuse to take offense. As soon as the door closed, she turned back to Greg, keeping her voice low, her words for him only. “Go tell them I’ll be there shortly. And if I ever hear you threaten anyone again, I don’t care what the reason, you will be out of here faster than you can count to ten. Got it?” The man looked at the floor and nodded slightly, muttering what sounded like a very insincere apology before leaving, closing the door too hard behind him. Aaliyah sighed and leaned against the wall, rubbing her face. Perfect. Just perfect. Why did she have to be the leader? She knew why. She was trained in various forms of defense and weaponry, had knowledge of various plant-life, and had a thing for horses. But honestly there were plenty of other people with useful skills around here.

Shaking her head, she walked back to where Roslyn was and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “Hey, you ok?”

Roslyn set aside the knife she’d been using and tossed some fruit into a pot of oatmeal. Her shoulders were stiff, and she winced as Aaliyah touched her. After a moment of blinking back tears that had been threatening to fall for several moments now, she said softly, “He scares me, Aya.” It was her private nickname for her friend, one she never used in front of anyone else.

Aaliyah had begun a gentle massage to relieve the ache in her friend’s shoulders as she listened. “I know he does. He’s just a big oaf with anger-management issues. He’s not going to hurt anyone while I’m around. That includes you. You’re my best friend, you know I’ll look out for you.”

Nodding slightly, Roslyn turned around and held onto the other woman, knowing she needed to be stronger, but utterly unable to do anything about it. Maybe if the week hadn’t been so bad she wouldn’t be reacting so strongly. Wouldn’t have flinched at the one person touching her that she never should. But there it was, memories had been bombarding her, wearing on her mind and she lost control, letting the tears come out again. A thought that she didn’t like at all ran through her mind. You aren’t here during the day. She dared not voice that to Aaliyah, however. She wouldn’t put that type of burden on her friend.

After a few moments, she managed to get out, “I’ll be ok. Just…just hold me for a moment.” How she had survived this entire mess when so many stronger people were dead or worse was beyond her. Yet here she was, weak, scared and completely uncertain as to her footing in the community that they had helped create here. There were worse things, she knew that, but somehow this seemed like it hurt more than being alone.

Aaliyah simply wrapped her arms around Roslyn, sensing the struggle the other woman was going through, hoping the closeness of another person would help a bit. She hated how useless she was in emotional situations, because she always wanted to help, but rarely felt that she did anything of note. So she held her friend close and hoped it would be enough. She didn’t care how long it took, the people she counted as her own came first before anything else.

After a few moments, Roslyn pushed away, obviously reluctant to leave the only safe place she’d ever managed to find in her life, and turned to the oatmeal. Wasting food was a bad idea, and she refused to let her problems harm other people if she could avoid it, and this would ultimately affect far more than just the two of them. Stirring the thickening mess, she said, “Greg…he keeps coming by the garden. And I don’t think it’s just to check up on me, but I can’t figure out what he’s doing.” Looking over her shoulder, she said softly, “It makes me nervous.” While Roslyn didn’t have a spiteful bone in her body, she wasn’t above telling a truth that might hurt someone. Especially if it was someone like Greg.

Aaliyah frowned slightly after Roslyn turned back to the food. That Greg had been hanging around the gardens was news to her and, although she wouldn’t admit it to Roslyn, it made her nervous as well. She reached up to a top cupboard and pulled out a switchblade, handing it to the other woman. “Keep this. If he threatens you physically and you can’t get away, you have my full permission to use it against him. Just…try not to kill him.” She smiled slightly, gently, letting the other woman know she wasn’t fully serious. “I’ll try to keep him on assignments away from where you are. If he’s around, try to make sure someone there’s someone else around. I don’t think he’ll hurt you. But if he does, it’s not very likely he’ll do it with someone there to witness. Sound good?”

Feeling her eyes grow wide as the switchblade was pressed into her hand, Roslyn wasn’t sure what to say for a few moments. She was hardly certain who to keep around that wasn’t needed elsewhere, but she had to admit, Aaliyah was right. Someone as dangerous as Greg could be…well, Roslyn suspected he’d killed someone before all of this had happened, and it was very obvious he enjoyed fighting. Unless it was Aaliyah, to whom he had lost badly too when he had tried to force her hand.

Looking down at the knife, she pushed it out, feeling it lock into place with a gentle snickt. “Thank you. I’ll…be careful with it.” Seeing Aaliyah nod in approval, Roslyn grabbed a couple of bowls and spoons, handed them to Aaliyah, and ladled some of the oatmeal into bowls for them. It would be a pain to clean if she let it set, but it was the fastest thing she could think of that would actually fill them up.

Motioning to the table, Roslyn sat down and started eating, wondering if she should stay silent so Aaliyah could eat and get out the door. Deciding she didn’t care if she upset Greg, she asked, “You sleep ok? I know I kept you up late, and…” The look of apology slipped onto her face. Memories of her father beating her had turned her into an absolute mess, and closing her eyes had made it worse. Glancing down, she stared into her food, stirring it listlessly.

Aaliyah smiled at the query and looked up at her friend. “Yeah, I slept okay. Better than I have this past week. You know I can function on less sleep than most people anyways. One of the gifts of being an insomniac.” She winked at the woman, touching her hand gently in reassurance, telling her silently that she hadn’t done anything wrong and that Aaliyah was fine.

It was hard to believe Aaliyah when she said things like that, but the woman had proved it multiple times over the years, be it school-related, when that had still been a thing, or in the years since. In many ways she was a wonder, and Roslyn could only laugh softly. “You always did do better at that than me.” Taking another bite, she enjoyed the strawberry in this spoonful, sucking on it, face relaxing as she closed her eyes simply focusing on the flavor for a moment. It was a rare treat, unfortunately, and it had been the last of the dried berries.

Noting that Aaliyah felt rushed, Roslyn said softly, “Just eat. I’ll clean up after you’re gone.” With that, she also focused on her meal, eating slower, wishing that her friend could actually enjoy it as well. Next time, brown sugar and cinnamon I think. She was refusing to let Greg influence her thoughts anymore for the moment. Having decided a while ago that he really wasn’t worth it, she tried to follow that advice as much as she could. It had kept her sane more often than not. Maybe I’ll get Gabby to help me. She said she likes plants and stuff. Having made at least one decision, she smiled gently, not wanting Aaliyah to worry about her anymore. Odds were good that she would have to that night, but Roslyn refused to think about it, the thought not even occurring to her.

Aaliyah smiled at her in a mix of apology and gratitude before finishing her breakfast and giving her a quick, but heartfelt hug. “I’ll see you later, ok? Try to have some fun today.” With that, she swiftly changed into jeans and a t-shirt, pulled on her boots and trotted outside, walking briskly to the front gate, frowning slightly in thought. They’d had a few good people ask for sanctuary over the past few weeks. Some she’d let in for a few nights to rest and recuperate before they went on their way. Others she denied entry to for whatever reason. They were addicts, troublemakers, crazy or she simply had a bad feeling about them. In this day and age, you trusted your gut, especially when the survival of a whole community depended on your judgment. She’d only let one stay recently, a doctor by the name of…what was his name? Something with a J…Jeremy? Jared? No, Jeremiah. That was it. He had told her that he could find a cure, or at least he thought he could. While she didn’t believe it herself, she knew the community needed some form of hope and he seemed like a good character so she had let him stay. What she didn’t like, however, was the fact that he needed a live specimen. That meant a live Feeder. In her community. It put her on edge, made her nerves stretch so taught she thought they would break. She knew that Phil, Mallory and Jared had gone to go bait a Feeder and were supposed to bring it back today. Just…ugh. She sighed and sped up towards the gate, seeing a few of the regular watch there. There was a man standing just outside while the others, Greg included, kept an eye on him. He was scruffy, an old worn and bedraggled suit paired with a scruffy beard. She almost laughed. He really did look almost comical, like he was trying to keep some semblance of old-school formality, but she kept a straight face and stopped at the gate. “So, what do we have here?”

TAG: The Great No One

 

~ CAST ~​

​

​

Michiyo Miharu – Ktala​

​

Mekaila Carlos – Falcon​

​

Elias "Hobey" Tillman Jr. – HanSolo29​

​

Maria Jessica Dunn – Jedi_padawan_leigh​

​

Jae Martin “The Revenger” – Greyjedi125*​

​

Dao-Ming “Sally” Leong - Heavy Isotope​

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Roslyn Grigson - The Great No One​

​

Dylan Phillips – Master Selkath​

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Aaliyah Hayes – Shira A’dola​

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Jeremiah Horskand – Chukles38​

​

-------- Deceased​

*GM Controlled​

_______ Co-GM​

​

 

Quentin Sipes
Gate of UT

Heat hadn’t been beating down from the sky for too terribly long today. It was hardly as bad as things got in the summer, it was almost downright cool as far as those things went. Not that the temperature would have made any difference to Quentin, as he never removed the black, long tailed coat that he was wearing. It had a hole in the left elbow, and a few tears in various other places, showing a very stained formerly white shirt underneath it and where it poked out from under the coat. Somehow he’d managed to retain the matching black pants, torn as they were, and a pair of hard leather shoes that needed a very good polishing. But overall, he looked more than respectable if he did say so himself. Certainly more so than any of the ragamuffins that were before him, but as the good book said, judge not lest ye be judged.

Absently he patted the large leather bound bible under his arm, smiling slightly. If these were to become his flock, then he must be sure to do as the word said. After all, hypocrisy was rampant in the flock before, and look at what had been sent as judgement upon the world. The feeders were nothing but a scourge that could be turned back should they all return to the Lord, and it had to start somewhere.

Looking over the two men that still stood before him, he tried to look reassuring. After all, that was the point. Gently he ran his fingers through the large, bushy beard that made it’s way down to the middle of his chest. The man named Greg had gone off, obviously displeased that his decision to bar Quentin’s entrance had been met with disdain and distrust. That he wanted to lead, well it was clear to any who weren't blind, and Quentin certainly was not that. It would likely be the easiest person to convert, having been recently humbled. Surely the contrite were most likely to see the truth.

Ah, someone’s coming. Seems to be Greg, alone. Perhaps not even half so highly vested with trust as he seems to think. Taking a sip from his canteen, it would need to be filled again before the day was out, Quentin stood there passively as Greg lumbered up and said “You’ll have to wait while her highness finishes waking up.” The anger that was lurking underneath the surface was interesting, but of little consequence at the moment.

“Oh, that is quite alright. Patience is a virtue after all, surely we can both do with learning a little more?” Quentin asked amiably.

While he didn’t hear Greg’s response, he heard something about where he could shove his patience, to which Quentin responded with a gentle smile. It did nothing to hide the spark of ambition in his eyes, mind, nor the glint if insanity that had taken root over the past year. Most men had a bit of that these days, their eyes a little too wide, or their faces a little too worn and haggard than they should be. Quentin was under the impression that he had avoided that, but the truth was there on his face and in his eyes as well, at least for those perceptive enough in human nature to notice.

After an interminable amount of time, someone else started walking up. An average height woman, dressed in jeans, boots and looked like she knew how to handle herself if you had any idea what you were looking for. Quentin did not, having never been much of a fighter, instead surviving by being faster than the next go, or simply avoiding something that might prove to be too problematic for him to escape.

Those that were present deferred to her, even Greg surprisingly, and he noted how reluctant she was in her authority. As she asked him a question, he responded with the thought that was running through his mind at the time. “So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen. It is clear to me, my dear, that you are one of the chosen,” Quentin said clearly, obviously hinting at Greg trying to put himself into that first place and failing miserably. “My name is Quentin Sipes, and I’m but a humble minister traveling through these wastes that we knew as Austin. I lost my supplies to a feeder hoard a few days ago, escaping with… what you see in my hands. Surely those with so much can spare a few crumbs for a man of God? Those who receive one of His servants will surely receive that reward that they are due.” And if you don’t… well, perhaps I can bring some judgement from the Mighty One down upon your sinful heads.

He saw Greg purse his lips, but remained silent. Apparently he was the petulant sort. One of the others, a young blonde man, said “Greg wasn’t going to let ‘im in, but neither Scott nor I see nothin’ wrong. Not like he can cause much trouble, ya know? But you’re in charge, so we figgered leave it up to you.” He coughed and spat on the ground. “He ain’t told us nothin’ much though. Didn’ seem turribly in’erested in talkin’ to us too much.”

Seeing that he might have made a mistake, Quentin said, “I’m sorry my dear boy, it just didn’t seem prudent to waste what moisture I have left talking to those who don’t have the authority to allow me entrance into yon paradise. Should you have need, I am more than capable of working. Before all of this became so bad, I used to work a garden to feed myself and my family. Perhaps I might be of some use in that capacity, if you could perhaps part with some supplies whenever you feel my time to leave has come. I will depart without resistance, for surely the Lord has his hand and angels protecting me.” He smiled, revealing surprisingly white and straight teeth. “I still have strength left in these bones as well, should more manual labor be what you have need of. He who does not work does not eat, the good book says, and I would hardly ask you to feed me for free when everything has become so dear in these dark times.”

TAG: Shira A'dola

 

F E E D

Austin, Texas​

Pharmacy - Alleyways - Rooftop​

Escaping from the pharmacy was a harrowing experience. ​

​

They fled out through the back door and down alleyways. The mother whipped out a knife from her back pocket and stabbed one of the Feeders in the skull. It might have surprised Michiyo and Mekaila, or might not have. Killing Feeders was a way of life these days, and those who couldn’t were already dead.​

​

“My name's Abigail,” The mother murmured her name to them as she snuck from building to building. She didn’t say the girl’s name, and no amount of looks would change that. Abigail led them down alleyway and backstreet, scurrying up ladders and crossing over rooftops with ease. She leaped over them with the girl tucked under one arm. “There are others,” She spoke louder this time. They were on the rooftop of an apartment building, rather far off the ground. “A few others. . .they’re hurt though. . .” She eyed Michiyo when she said it, before approaching the rooftop door and knocking on it. She knocked twice, three times, and then once. ​

​

It opened slowly, with a scrawny man standing guard with a shotgun.​

​

“Abby!” He wrapped her in a one armed hug. “We thought you’s dead out there. Heard the screamin’ over here.”​

​

“The door got stuck.” Abby squeezed the little girl’s shoulder. “They almost got her. If it wasn’t for those two, we'd be dead.” The woman gestured to Michiyo and Mekaila. ​

​

“Then we owe ‘em our thanks, and a good bowl a soup.” The man stepped out of the doorway and offered his hand. He had a gapped smile, missing a few of his teeth here and there, but it was less crazed than most. “Steve Patterson, at ye service.”They might have seen him once or twice over the last year, with his bright yellow plumber’s hat being fairly recognizable. Survivors always encountered other survivors in the city, but they rarely spoke to each other unless they planned to come together for some reason. ​

​

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TAG: Ktala, Falcon

 

Dr. Michiyo Miharu - Morning, Austin Texas
Pharmacy - Alleyways - Rooftop


It was quite a feat escaping from the pharmacy. They had snuck out the back door, and Michiyo copied the Military woman's moves as best she could, as they moved. Somehow, during their movement, the screaming woman showed she could do more than simply scream. In the course of their escape, the woman pulled out a large knife from her back pocket, and stabbed a feeder.


So, the woman wasnt a waste after all. that was good. As they moved along, the woman finally spoke. "My name's Abigail." she simply stated. Funny, she did not introduce the girl. Michiyo wondered if the girl and she were really related, or had become so, out of need. But the girl was following along as well, so as long as she didnt act as if she was being stolen, so much the better. Michiyo wasnt going to press for a name. She simply nodded, and continued to move along the buildings. What was amazing was that Abigail somehow gained the lead, and was showing them down different backstreets, scurrying up ladders and crossing over rooftops with ease. Michi looked over towards the Captain, her eyes narrowed slightly. She wondered if this could be a trap. Wouldnt be the first time that survivors preyed on each other. Anyone trying to take down the Captain and her however, would get a big surprise, of that she was sure. She just hoped the woman knew where she was going. The next building, Abigail leaped over, with the girl tucked under one arm. After Michi made her way across, she heard the woman speak once more. "There are others," she stated a bit louder. Michi noticed how far off the ground they were. "A few others... they're hurt thought..." The woman looked straight at Michiyo. Michi gave a grunt. Woman must have heard when she told the Captain she was a Doctor. Well, if that earned them a bit of good with some locals, that would suit her just fine. As long as they didnt get any ideas. Michi simply hoped that they were simply hurt, and not infected.

The Captain and Michi stopped when they reached a rooftop door. Michi stood back, keeping a careful watch as the woman knocked on it, definitely giving a signal with a series of knocks. It slowly opened with a scrawny looking man,
with a shotgun. Obviously some sort of lookout.

"Abby!" He gave her a one armed hug. "We thought you's dead out there. Heard the screamin' over here." Yeah, that woman did have a pair of lungs, alright. Wonder why none of them came to help her out? The woman quickly explained how the door got stuck, and how the little girl almost became food. She then gestured to the Captain and Michi. "If it wasn't for those two, we'd be dead." The man looked over towards them. "Then we owe 'em our thanks, and a good bowl a soup." That sounded promising. Michi hoped the soup was something ... edible. The man moved out of the doorway, offering his hand. "Steve Patterson, at ye service." Michi was sure she had spotted him a few times at least. A bright yellow plumber's hat was pretty hard to miss. Most folks still roaming around, had an item or two on them that they tended to keep on them. Something from the old days.

Michiyo have a nod. /Hai./.. "Yes. Just glad we were quick enough." Michiyo gave a nod. She then looked over at the Captain. If this was these people's holdout, they would need to be extra cautious. So Michi planed to keep a sharp eye open, watching the way Abby and Steve acted, as they were shown inside. She was also looking just in case there was someone to jump them as well. Michi was ready to react, just in case these people were not as 'greatful' as they sounded. It was hard not being so cynical, but that was the game nowadays. If things went sour, perhaps the fact that she was indeed a doctor might come in handy. Right now, she was willing to wait and see What the Captain's reaction would be.

​

TAG: Falcon, spycoder9