Color-Coded

[Tobuoi]

http://forums.khinsider.com/role-playing/107623-color-coded-original.html
^The above thread is the OOC/Sign-up thread. Joining is still encouraged.

Characters:
D'ara Iden - 18 - Green
Virgil Lifeson - 19 - Green
Khaios Urzukra - 17 - Black
Ryke Truffton - 21 - Red
Taylor Yorke - 28 - Orange
Trey Contact - 17 - White
Demos Fifer - 16 - Black
Derrick Alvaro - 19 - Purple
Gwenyth Avalon - 19 - Red
Aegis Greene - 27 - Blue
​

D'ara: It was some time around midday when D'ara had decided to make her daily exploration out into the city. Her hair had become damp and messy and her clothes and skin were filth-ridden. D'ara could hardly care, though, despairingly convinced that she was in fact, the last human alive in the city, if not the world. On her back, she had a small beige backpack. Inside, there were a number of miscellaneous first-aid bandages that she had collected, candy bars, two pop cans, a flash light, painkillers, various fold-out maps, and a thin, long-sleeved shirt that had been wodded (wadded*?) up. Around her waist, her oversized zip-up hoodie was tied, as well as a sheathed machete that was laced to one of her belt-loops.​

As D'ara made her way down the street, alert, rain began to fall down on her. She wondered if the infection was originally airborne, and if the end result produced some sort of air pollution...she couldn't think of any other reason for the constant dreary weather. Or for how the infection could've spread that quickly.

D'ara came to a building that she had never seen before. It looked like an ordinary office building, but she wondered if there was anything inside worth salvaging...not to mention, she couldn't afford to get any sort of illness from the cold rain. However, the inside appeared to be dark which seemed to be the infecteds' prefered state of looming.

With her machete unsheathed, D'ara decided to proceed. She stepped over piles of trash and what she hated to think were human remains...​

​

 

[Tyler Durden]

“WHOOOHOOO! AH YEAH!” Taylor screamed as he drove the car through the streets of the City. As the front bumper collided with debris and the Infected, Taylor just slammed down on the gas pedal harder. Why should he care- it wasn’t is car, after all. He had just stolen it from some poor sap that was about to become one of the Infected anyway. Taking a long drag on his cigarette before throwing it out of the window at one of those annoying freaks, Taylor slammed on the brakes and turned into another street.

Riding-well, shotgun- was his trusty twelve gauge, loaded and cocked. If one of those freaks managed to get into the car and attack Taylor’s nice red leather coat, they would promptly be shot in the head. Red absorbs blood; just a perk of being the fashion expert that Taylor is. His jeans and shoes, however…they would have to be replaced soon. The shoe that was flooring the gas pedal was faded and old, not good at all for running from the zombie bastards in the City. Seeing a fashion store down the street, Taylor forced the already stressed car to go even faster, and then he crashed through the large revolving doors.

Inside the building, three display cases were wrecked, and Taylor’s head had hit the steering wheel. Wiping the blood from his forehead, he grabbed the shotgun sitting next to him and did a quick scan of the room that he was in. He noticed two things: one was that there were no infected, and the other was that the jeans in this place were freaking expensive. When he walked over and grabbed a pair, however, Taylor realized that they were soft to the touch…and that he couldn’t rip them, so they must be durable. Walking into the corner-for safety, not modesty- Taylor put the jeans on, setting the shotgun down as he did so.

Of course, that was his mistake; as soon as he did, one of those undead freaks leaped at him from the dressing room. Well, it didn’t really leap, per se. It more…hobbled at Taylor with a sense of urgency. Quickly scooping up the gun, Taylor shot the thing once in the head. Fortunately, he was far enough back so that none of the splatter would get on him. Poking the thing with his foot, Taylor was assured that it was actually dead. As he was walking away, Taylor noticed that he felt a little funny…was he…changing?

No. He just needed a smoke, and smoke he did; bending down to protect the flame of his lighter from the wind, he lit a cigarette then got back into his car. As he reversed back into the street, he turned the music up really loud. It was some Avenged Sevenfold; sweet. “Jesus, that man knows how to play his freaking guitar,” Taylor said around his cigarette. Honking his horn in tune with the drums, he started playing the air guitar at the same time.

Taylor isn’t a very safe driver.

 

[Brol]

As Khaios walks along the sidewalks, he looks over his shoulder to notice a couple of infected are following him. Smiling, Khaios turns around as a small aura of heat surrounds him. Pulling his large cross out from his back, Khaios rushes at the Infected and hits one of them straight into the gut with scourches on the body. As more and more infected bodies drop to the ground, either on fire or burnt, Khaios begins to lose his breath and violently looks around for a safe area to take cover.

From the corner of his eye, he spots a figure running into another building and on his opposite side, a driver ramming his car into another building. Deciding on which side to take, Khaios runs to the building in hopes to find another to explain what he knows and whats going to happen.

Rushing passed the doors, Khaios finds the person, or rather girl.

 

[Ulti]

Ryke Truffton. Age 21. Single. Current master of the Tenco office building. It was not exactly trespassing. His father owned the oil industry. Ryke had every right to use one of their buildings as a base. There, he collected necessary items for survival. Food, clothing, medical supplies, the whole shibang. To ensure that his supplies would never come in contact with the Infected, he placed everything on the very top floors, his room being on the very top. Until the Infected learned how to use an elevator, he was safe.

But safety was not one of Ryke's issues. He has bagged himself quite a collection of Infected skulls ( all kept on the first floor to scare away any Infected who happens to wander inside. At least, the plan would work if he would just fix the lights. But Ryke was never one to finish his To Do List ). Despite trying to tear his guts out, Ryke was fascinated by the Infected. All the different kinds that roam the streets were innumberable. And yet, Ryke never found a human being. At least, a living human.

Ryke happened to be on the lower levels when the silent alarm went off. He only set the annoying thing so he could be alerted when it was playtime. But unfortunately, he was without his main weapons; a pint of gasoline and a lighter. With no time to go back to the upper levels, he grabbed the closest thing to him.

"Great. I am about to fight an Infected with a stapler. Eh, maybe I'll use the staples for my air gun idea. If worse comes to worse, I'll can always lock the first level and deal with the bastard later."

Ryke took the stairs as to surprise the Infected. This was still difficult as it was almost pitch black. The Infected's stench was the only thing that kept Ryke from being lunch. Clenching the stapler, he opened the door to the main level. He cursed when it squeaked all the way open. So much for the surprise attack...

 

[Eikre]

Driving? Sounds like something Virgil would do.

Speaking of which, Virgil was cruising around in his vintage Cadillac, with a smile on his face, and Through the Fire and Flames blasting over the speakers. The back seat was filled with the odd defensive measure. His Starplayer in easy grabbing reach, being a decent axe in both senses of the term, and there was the pipes and aid kits of the first and second degrees. And the fins looked great despite the blood stain and cracked light.

Hearing another car being revved, and knowing that Infected don't have the brain power to power his watch let alone drive a car, he figured that someone else was alive and well. And perhaps he wanted a race.

It would be a change from playing chicken with the Infected, at any rate.

He threw the car down a gear, and began to lightly reach out and probe with his spooky mind powers. Gaining the power of mind, the only thing Virgil tried doing was the whole telepathic gig. Poking into minds and stuff. Infected don't have anything in their minds beyond noise. So it was easy to tell who like their cigarette, and Avenged Sevenfold. finding the general direction of the smoker, Virgil drove over through alleyways, and jumped the car off a makeshift ramp onto the next street. Seeing the guy air guitar, he poked his mind probe into his head, and asked him, "You there. In the other car with the music. Wanna race?"

 

[afrobutt]

In most zombie horror movies, the streets were live with the dead. The heroes of the story would somehow meet together in the midst of fighting. And they would all have their own reasons to fight. Trey Contact's current situation opposed all of that, but this was to be expected. Defying the likely, and taking his own road was Trey's way of doing things.

At the moment, Trey was alone in an abandoned section of the city. He was walking down the street, humming a little song. The last few weeks had been enjoyable for Trey. He found he was able to avoid any sort of contact with the Infected through running away, or simply avoiding them through interpreting certain signs. If it started to stink, or you heard various loud, crashing noises, the smart thing would be to stay away from that area. And for the encounters that Trey could not avoid, he could easily defend himself. These things didn't tend to be very strong, and a slash from his chain was usually enough to down an opponent. Trey has considered finding a different, more effective weapon, but nothing seemed to fit. Guns were out of the question, Trey just didn't like them. And any other sort of weapon was just too... crude.

Each week, Trey gave himself a goal to accomplish, for fun. This week's objective was to find some Dr. Pepper. Why? Well, because Trey loved Dr. Pepper. He hadn't had anything besides water and the occasional scraps of food in a while. His plan today was to scout out the cities' activity center, if he recalled correctly there were vending machines down there. As for how he would get said drink, well that was a problem to be dealt with later.

As he walked, he heard some crashing sounds coming from the west. Usual signs of the Infected, nothing to fret about. It sounded far away, so there was little chance of it affecting him. But when he listened closer, he could hear the faint sound of music. "Is that... A7X?!" Trey said, shocked. He hadn't heard any decent music in forever. Trey rubbed his chin, wondering what he should do. He finally reasoned that the Dr. Pepper might still be there tomorrow, but a chance at some decent music was a higher priority. But the sound was getting harder to hear, so Trey sighed, and started running towards the sound of one of his more favored bands.

 

[)-(The Anomaly)-(]

Demos dived into an alleyway as three of the infected ran by him. He was not going to stand up to three. He'd barely been able to stand up to one. Knives were only able to do so much. Demos stood up and peeked out of the alleyway. They were standing still just 10 yards from the alleyway. They were like statues of flesh. He looked at them quizzically and took out his sharpest, longest knife. He tried to sneak past them. Paying attention to his foot steps, making sure he made a little noise as possible. He held his breath through the whole thing. He couldn't help it.

As he tip toes past the infected, he had to look at them. They were seemingly frozen in place. Once he stopped paying to his feet he tripped on a hole in the street. He kept himself from falling, but he let out his breath and then inhaled sharply. The three infect all looked right at him.

"Crap.." He said nervously. The three infect shrieked and as the did Demos ran for his life. He ran frantically forward, not know what he might run into. Then, he stopped as three more infected were in front of him. Who'd of thought he'd corner himself like this. He's been though enough to avoid a stupid situation like this. He wasn't going to be able to take on all of these infected bare handed or with a knife. Maybe, he could do it again. He wasn't sure whether it was him that made the infected burst into flames back the convenient store just a few days before, but it was worth a try.

He looked at the ones that were running after him in the first place and envisioned them burning. Suddenly, there was a flash of orange, and one of the infected was shrieking, and burning alive. He ran past it, seeing an opening. No longer surrounded, he just kept running forward. The burning infected just fell to the ground. The other five ran after him. He tried to focus and make them catch on fire, but he just could do it again. Not without some practice.

 

[Tyler Durden]

Holy hell! Someone was speaking directly into Taylor’s mind! Jesus, something like that hadn’t happened since Taylor had done that acid back in college. Good times, good times. Anyway, the guy was asking if Taylor wanted to race. Considering the fact that Taylor had just seen the Infected behind him, he figured that he might as well race this guy. Pushing the gas pedal down even further, he zoomed past a number of buildings, hoping that the other guy wouldn’t be left behind completely.

Looking around, Taylor happened to glance in the rear view mirror and see someone being attacked by the infected freaks. Cursing under his breath, Taylor threw yet another cigarette out the window, and he slammed on his brakes while turning his car around on the side of the street opposite that of the other racer. Zooming towards the person being attacked, Taylor was surprised to find that this kid could at least fight. Bringing his shotgun up quickly, he shot one of the odd bastards right in the face before swinging the car around.

“How about you get into the car, and we can get going away from these annoying little bastards?” he screamed over the Avenged Sevenfold playing. He wondered if the person would respond, but he wasn’t terribly worried about it. If nothing happened soon, he would just drive away and continue his race with the other guy. Still, Taylor didn’t like to sit around like a duck on the water. Popping another cigarette into his mouth and another shell into his gun, Taylor got out of the car while talking to himself.

“Damned kids can’t even handle themselves. You’d think that I would have to babysit them for the rest of this little party,” he mumbled. Seeing another of the infected approaching, he shot it in the knee and then pulled the pistol from his belt, shooting it through the neck. He brought the shotgun up again, prepared to shoot any of those rotting freaks that happened to approach him or the kid. The gun still had seven shots in it, so he should be fine for a while. Not to mention the fact that if the kid was useless, Taylor had a little surprise in the trunk.

Smiling, he said to the kid:

“Do you know how to make napalm? “

OOC: Oh, god yes. And I had to save him. I'm a softy.

 

[Tobuoi]

D'ara: D'ara nearly screamed when the boy, who looked about her age, rushed in, past her. However, she got a hold of herself almost immediately and threw her arm out to the side to stop him. "Quiet!" she hissed. Just as he had come in, D'ara had heard a noise from above. Whether or not it was something moving or just the inner workings of the building remained to be seen.

D'ara stepped forward, quietly, minding the broken glass on the floor. Across what had once been the lobby, she saw what appeared to be an elevator...only, the little, round "up" and "down" buttons were lit up. "This place must have some sort of back-up power supply," she said quietly. She contemplated using it for a moment and then decided that it was too risky.

With her machete gripped tightly, D'ara went over to where the stairs started and set down her bag several feet away from the door that was slightly open. She undid the ties and fetched her flashlight out of it. She set it down carefully on the cold, tiled floor and slung her bag back onto her shoulder. D'ara picked up the flashlight and stood up with it, silently. With her thumb, she shoved the switch on, illuminating the door. She then reached with her machete and cautiously opened the door the rest of the way with the tip of it. On the other side, there was another person, seemingly uninfected.

 

[Brol]

Khaios pulls out his Cross again and slowly watched as D'ara opens the door. Breathing gets harder, the stairwell begins to shrink. Tensions start to rise as Khaios begins to get dizzy. Chill Khaios. Just Chill. Whose in that other room. Could it be him... Goes up the stairs and walks into the supposively empty room.

 

[Eikre]

When the other racer placed his car on the other side of the road, and when he got out to battle the other infected, alarms began to ring in Virgil's head. Grabbing the Starplayer, and wielding it like the expert axe-wielder he was, (Again, axe is slang for guitar.) Virgil kept a wary eye out for other moving things, be it infected or on wheels. He crossed the road, and found that the party had already ended.

"Jeez, and I just got here. too." Virgil muttered to himself as he walked up to his challenge and some kid. He yelled over the A7x to his challenge, "You still up for the race, or do you wanna play with fire instead?"

While he waited for answer, and feeling his fingers itch, he figured, I have a guitar in my hand. Why Air Guitar when you have the real thing. So he did as such. Riffing through the songs on his own guitar.

[OOC]Which kid are we talking to?[/OOC]

 

[)-(The Anomaly)-(]

Demos kept running, now being chased by ten of them. He knew he wasn't going to make it unless he did something. He stopped running and faced the oncoming ten infected. He focused and put his left hand forward. He imagined a ring of flame. Fire was easiest for him, since he knew he could do it. He hadn't thought about anything else yet. The things were about two yards away when a ring of orange and golden flame rose from nothing. The infected screamed. He felt his head throb a bit after the ring of flame was complete. He was really not used to this. He looked behind him and opened up a little exit in the fire. He walked through it and kept running.

He could smell the burning flesh of the infected behind him. As he kept running he also heard music. Loud music. He ran towards it hoping it was some sort of help. The smoke from the ring of fire rose into the air. He eventually saw a car, parked on the side of the road, a man with a gun, and another person, probably a year older than him, with the other man. He kept running up, but by the time he got near them, they had already taken care of the infected. He smiled and picked up the pace.

"Lets hope they're friendly. I'm not sure I can deal with anyone else at the moment." He put his hand to his hand as he walked up to the car. "My head's killing me...."

 

[Aphex]

Rainfall. Perfect weather for that no one can see you cry silent tears. . .

The sounds of a metallic object ramming into something that sounded rather soft echoed throughout the streets. A weary yet decomposing hand attempted to raise itself from the ground only to fall back down onto the concrete once a led pipe drove itself into the skull of what was believed to be an infected being. The facial features could no longer be recognized anymore now that it looked disfigured with patches of blood splattered about its face. Not only that buts its skull had been practically caved in already after several blows by the pipe.

A man who appeared to be still young, looking to be around the ages of nineteen or twenty, stood over the now beaten and battered body of the infected person. The man turned out to be Derrick Alvaro who actually appeared to be crying after committing such a brutal and gruesome act. There were various blood drops on parts of his face, looking up at the sky while letting the raindrops clear his face of the blood and tears. The pipe itself had been greatly tainted with blood as well, the nineteen year old letting out a holler out of anger and frustration. Derrick's eyes were now slightly red due to his crying, now dilating from t he fear and paranoia that now filled his entire body. He couldn't take this anymore, he just couldn't.

The senseless violence along with the infection was too much to bear now. It already had taken a toll on his mind and now the only thing that was left was his own life. Not to mention, he had lost all ability to gain the trust from others or even learn to trust them either.

And so, Derrick had wandered off and thus, left the battered body behind. The pipe trailed and scraped along the concrete as he walked as the sound it created could be heard from a five-block radius. Where was he going was the question now. Not even he knew where he was going but as long as he stayed far away as possible from any confrontations, then that's all that mattered.

 

[afrobutt]

Trey fell against a building wall, panting heavily. He hadn't gotten too far before his lungs started giving out, running REALLY wasn't Trey's thing. Sure, if he had a gang of mutated humans chasing him he could run from one side of the city to the other. But a few seconds of music wasn't enough to keep Trey going for too long. He sat against the wall, catching his breath. On a positive note, it seemed as if the music had stopped.

"Wait, why do I even care about the music. I'm in the middle of the city, likely running towards the Infected. I was better off sticking with the Dr. Pepper raid." he thought, sighing heavily. Well, there was no point in turning back now. Trey sat up again, wiping the dirt off his jeans. " No more running though." he said out-loud. With that, he started walking towards the music once again.

 

[Ulti]

Ryke was a bit surprised to have the door flung open before him. The sudden flash of light stunned him for a bit. Not exactly good when confronting an Infected. He waved his stapler in front of him in defense of what could be the claws of an Infected beast. But there was no familiar stench of death. Instead of an Infected, a young woman stood before him. A real human

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Guess my goal to repopulate the world can go as planned."

Ryke groaned when he spied another person behind her. A male. Typical. You finally find a reason to live and they are taken. After a few seconds of silence, Ryke realized the situation. Other survivors were here and he was letting them stand out in the cold. If his father had taught him anything, first impressions are cruical.

"I'm betting you are here to restock on your supplies. I can't turn a blind eye to a pretty lady now can I? Better than an Infected one anyways. And I guess the boy behind you can come too. Guy is gonna attract more Infected than I want in one damn day."

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

A handgun.

A plastic-wrapped syringe with three bottles of clear liquids that she knew would do something for pain but was foggy about its other machinations.

A single sock with a hole in the big toe.

A bible.

A very threatening-looking fork.

And a can of lukewarm Dr. Pepper.

"F**k this sh*t!"

Gwyneth Avalon pushed half of the items off the table she had arranged them on with a swipe of her arm, green eyes burning with frustration. She had chopped up a door and kicked it down to get into this room, believing that it might hold some salvagable supplies.

That was an understatement. Gwena with her impractical optimism had been sure that she'd find troves of treasures in this ransacked apartment. But no. Other than her knife, her gun, and the medical supplies, which she'd already had, there was nothing.

Well, almost nothing.

She had found that can of Dr. Pepper, after all.

The rest of its fellows had been punctured or crushed, but this one can was unmarked and not even too hot. The redhead pushed it open and popped the aluminum top into her mouth, curling it in her tongue as she took a swig of that Elysian nectar. Oh, did Gwena love her Dr. Pepper. The bland metal against her tongue was a stark contrast to the taste of the dark liquid, and she manuevered it carefully in her mouth so as not to cut herself.

Taking another small sip, she began to pack away her things, syringe and bottles in her pockets, knife jammed through a stretched-out belt loop, gun in her hand. She flicked the safety on and off a few times, wondering where the hell she was going to find ammo. And even if she found a sporting goods store or whatever, how would she know which bullets were the right kind? Gwena had one hell of a marksman's eye, but for the life of her she knew little about the terminology of such weapons. She knew how to shoot the damn things, she didn't drool over them like teenaged boys with delusions of being Matrix warriors or whatever.

She probably would have replaced the magnum for her trusty knife if there hadn't been a sudden scampering from what sounded like the adjoining room. Cursing under her breath, she tensed and thumbed the safety off, spinning around to the source of the noise.

The redhead eyed the door warily, wondering what was behind the hanging-from-broken-hinges slab of wood. She didn't have to wait long. With a shriek, something large and vaguely ratlike burst into the room with a shower of timber and launched itself at her.

Taking aim in that split-second, not that she needed to be a genius at aiming to hit a target so close, Gwena swung the revolver up and blew a hole through the Infected's head ... or what she thought might be its head. Either way, it flew back and fell in the rubble of the door, twitching. She took a couple steps forward and shot it again, like all the good monster movies tell you to.

"Goddamn thing made me waste two bullets." She refrained from kicking it- her boots were dirtied enough -and instead turned away, picking her way across the sea of upturned furniture and approaching the doorway. But when she looked outside it....

"Oh, holy hell."

At least five more of the rat-people-things were twitching and squirming in the dusty hallway. She slammed the door shut and ran as two of them threw themselves at the wood, clawing at it. Soon enough they'd figure out how to scratch through it or just break it in.

Gwena's head whipped around, searching, and leapt over the broken coffee table and over the the window, looking out on an empty alleyway. Just outside was a fire escape, thank- whatever, whoever, thank no one.

She unlocked the window and pushed it open as far as she could, vaulting over the sill and landing a few feet down on the rusty fire escape, ankles jarring. Something black and hairless and very ugly appeared in the open window and she shot it, then noticed with disgust that she had just used her last bullet. Switching the gun for her knife, she sprinted down the stairs as far as she could before it ended seven feet above the ground.

Gwena grabbed a hold of the railing and let herself drop, wishing that it were grass she was falling on instead of concrete, and ignoring the ache in her legs as she picked herself up and got the hell out of there.

It was raining. If the sky hadn't been so thick with pollution and if they air didn't stink with corruption and death, she would have enjoyed it....

She hated to be out in the open like this. Seeking cover, Gwena ducked inside the next-door building through a broken side door. It was dark, even compared to the stormy streets, but her green eyes, so used to traversing in and out of darkrooms, adjusted quickly. Hoping that the noises in the building were just that, building-noises, and not Infected, she proceeded cautiously further in.

 

[Aphex]

Derrick came to a complete halt even though is wasn't the brightest of all ideas to pull off at the moment. He could of swore that he heard distant gunfire coming from just a view blocks away. But he kept his gaze forward rather than turn his attention towards where the gunshots came from. Just because it could possibly meant that there was another survivor didn't uplift Derrick's hopes of escaping the City considering he trusted no one, literally. However, he did have to admit, the more he groups with others meant the higher the chance of surviving longer and getting the Hell out of this City, away from the Infected. Taking this brief moment to come up with an action, Derrick had finally came to a decision which was. . .

"F*ck that."

Plain and simple, yes?

Anywho, continuing his path to wherever in the world he was going, Derrick picked up the pace a little which caused the sound of the pipe scraping along the concrete to increase. Sure, it'll attract attention but the more the merrier. In other words, more of the Infected to kill. Clearly, Derrick's blood lust had also increased and practically had the mind of a homicidal convict. The screams of innocent victims could be heard in the polluted air, most of them which sounded as if they were being killed at that very moment, wherever they were. This brought a sadistic smirk to grow on his face.

"At least it's not me. . ."

 

[afrobutt]

Trey sighed, sitting under some old houses' porch. He'd been walking for 20 minutes, and was sick of it. He had no idea how far away the damned car was, and he was soaking from the rain. Trey hadn't realized before going off on this "adventure" that sounds in this city were a lot louder now that there weren't so many others competing for attention, and chances were that car was at least another 1/2 hours walk away. He could try running again, but Trey just didn't care anymore.

"A7X isn't even that good anyway." he muttered to himself, propping his legs on the ledge of the porch. So now he needed a new plan, it was still quite early in the day and Trey was starved for some entertainment. So far, all he could think of was to sit and stare at the rain. But this didn't really sound all that fun, and it wasn't wise to sit still. The Fates blessed him today, and he'd yet to run into any of the Infected. But he couldn't luck out forever, especially if he just sat here.

"Okay... here's what I'll do." he said to himself. "I'll sit here, and wait. But if Fate has something it wants me to do, then I'll require a sign." he said, staring at the sky. "Come on, anything." The world was silent after that, and Trey chuckled. "Fine, then I wo-" It was then that a shot rang through the silence. Gunfire, and close by too. Trey's eyes were wide open, waiting for more. Another shot went off, and the young man sighed. "Fine, off I go then." he said, silently cursing the Fates. He needed to stop making these deals with Fate.

After a short walk, Trey found himself standing across the street from a lone apartment. In front of it were a group of the Infected, 4. They held a humanoid-like form. They had quickly noticed his presence, and were making their way toward him. Trey sighed once again, scratching the back of his head. " Son of a- I suppose it was inevitable." he said, unwrapping the chain that had been wrapped under his hoodie. In truth, this chain was rarely able to permanently impair these creatures. But it was enough to stun them for a time, which gave Trey the chance to run, or kill them if necessary.

Trey let the chain uncoil on the ground, and then attacked. First, he delivered a quick swing, sending the first back. Then he reined his chain back, and lashed out at the second. Another direct hit, creating a large gash in the creature as it feel over. But the third had gotten within attacking range, and it would take too long for Trey to reel his chain back in. Reacting on a whim, Trey dropped his chain and ran towards the beast. Before it could react, Trey pulled back his right leg and delivered a swift spin kick to it's face. "What do you know, stuff from movies actually work." Trey chuckled. The attack was crude, yet affective. The Infected flew into a wall, seemingly downed. But it would be back up soon.

"I'll deal with that when the time comes." Trey said, composing himself. It was then he saw something moving out of the corner, on the side of the apartment. It was... a girl, a teenage girl. She was descending down the fire escape, her red hair bouncing wildly about (among other things, Trey noted despite himself). Once she got to the end, she dropped from the railing. "Damn, that was quite a drop for a chick to take." Trey said, impressed. The girl did a quick survey of the surrounding area, apparently not noticing Trey, and ducked into the nearest home. Trey rubbed his chin, wondering what he should do. The Fates had sent him here, and he could only interpret they wanted him to talk with the girl. Plus, it was cold an wet outside.

So, he walked over to the home and let himself in. "Hello, chick? I promise I won't eat your head." Trey said sarcastically, making his way within the house.

 

[Tobuoi]

D'ara: D'ara essentially ignored what the red-haired stranger had said. Instead, she asked, almost bitterly, "Who are you, exactly? And do you have some sort of alternative power supply for this building? The electricity everywhere else in the city went off about a month ago." She wondered if either of the two guys knew anything about the government having planned the infection in the first place.

D'ara turned off the flashlight and lowered her machete. It seemed only polite. However, the dirtied scowl remained as a sort of way of demanding answers from this man who seemed a few years older than her, at least...

OOC: Bleck, I hate dialogue posts...you can't do much with them to make them a decent length. XO

 

[Ulti]

( You just need to splurge on the actions to make them long )

"Fiesty. Not to my liking, but can't be too picky in these times. Odd question, but all my dad's buildings run on water if electricity is down. But we can still the formalities until we are all safe. C'mon!"

Ryke allowed the two inside the stairwell. As they started their trek upward, he took a last look outside. There was activity arousing every creature, Infected and whatnot. Locking the door, he followed the others upward. Ryke stopped them at the third flight of stairs, however, to take them to the elevator. He explained that this way, none of the Infected can reach the upper levels. The elevator took them to the very top.

"So this is my base. I'd say make yourselves at home, but home does not exist anymore. Food and essentials are on this floor. The next two floors below have the supplies you desire. Don't go into any floors besides those. Unstable and messy. Sorry that I haven't cleaned up. I really did believe I was the last human on earth.."

Ryke let the two dig into his supply stock as he ventured towards the only window on the floor. The window took most of the wall, giving the viewer a beautiful site of the city. Gave is a better term. The city of today can be hardly seen as anything pretty. But to Ryke, it still has its charm. Maybe its because he lived in such conditions for most of his life. He walked towards what used to be his father's desk, now his own, and found his treasured weapon.

A lighter and a can of gas. Compared to a machete, it was a wasteful and unefficient weapon. But Ryke didn't think in short terms. Fire was probably the most deadly weapon to the Infected. Burn the muscle and they will fall. He could get free gas at any station, so he always had a supply. Currently, he was modifiying a propane tank and a gas hose into a flamethrower. He started on this invention while keeping an eye on his "guests".