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Post by Red Dawson on Sept 18, 2007 14:18:37 GMT -5
Apparently it was obvious that he was still adjusting to his now warm body, at least that's what Red thought when the guy turned to take the lead. He wouldn't blame him for confidently thinking he could turn and take him out if he tried to shoot him - his body was moving too slowly to be that effective at the moment. However, if he was going all on the trust factor, Red would be very disappointed. It was a good way to get killed. He listened to his rant - rather lighthearted compared to what he was used to, again glimpses of memories came back - as he ascended the stairs, each one feeling like he was taking three at a time. However, despite the aches, it was a relatively short climb and he was soon standing next to him by the window. He glanced to the man, or perhaps adult was a better term based on the height and look, before looking out through the glass. The sunlight was quite extreme, causing him to squint as he looked over the cityscape. His eyes were still adjusting to his renewed status in life. It was a familiar event, and Red guessed that his vision must alter when he joins the ranks of the shamblers - being more attuned to motion than detail. After a few moments he opened the door and took up the role of leader, as he walked out towards a plank bridge. "We need to head east," he said as the landmarks slowly became familiar once more, "it will get us headed in the right direction." Sure, now his back was exposed but, he rationalized, he had already been dead... another lapse into lifelessness now wouldn't matter much. ((I think I have a solid idea what it might be, although in Red's state, he hasn't noticed anything peculiar yet. ))
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zpansven
Free Runner
Karen Howard
Posts: 144
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Post by zpansven on Sept 18, 2007 16:23:06 GMT -5
"East it is, boyo -- this is your 'burb after all," Brett drawled, eyeballing the plank bridge warily as the red-haired man stepped foot on it. It creaked and groaned under his weight and the dark-haired scientist turned green eyes to calculate the distance between rooftops; it wasn't that great a distance to 'hop, but...wouldn't do to spook the red-head.
Tentatively Brett placed a foot on the plank bridge and began to shuffle across as his 'friend' climbed down onto the rooftop across from him. It seemed sturdier then it looked; perhaps there were more residents in this 'burb, so it was better maintained then the ones he'd crossed before...?
Mentally shaking the ill-fated results the last time he'd crossed one of these bridges from his mind, he instead focused on crossing it. When he stepped ontot he rooftop beside the red-head, whom was looking around again, Brett took a second to speculate that perhaps the bridge he'd fallen from that one time had been sabatogued by some nutcase.
Nutcase. Heh, not like he was one to point fingers; the scientist fought back the insane cackle that threatened to escape his throat. Wouldn't do to frighten the red-head, not when there was the remote possibility of food waiting; many people were leery of someone whom showed signs of insanity in this city...
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Post by Red Dawson on Sept 18, 2007 17:00:34 GMT -5
'Your burb'. To Red, that was laughable. As of that moment, he was trying real hard to focus on the tell-tale signs of the peeks and roofs of the surrounding buildings. It was like traveling a new city except you had studied the road map intensely. Sure, he knew that you should turn north on the roof with the broken dish receiver and the trio of air circulation vents and then hang a left when you got to that old factory but the familiarity with the buildings themselves was distant and detached. Once in a while he'd have some flash of insight, like when he spotted the NT building a ways to the south - he knew it was a lab for some reason, an important one at that - he knew that he should begin heading north.
Eventually, after the stop-and-go of plankway crossing, he had planted his feet on a hospital, the words 'Ephrem General' tarnished by dark soot displayed hauntingly on the upper portion of the outside wall. He had gotten to an area he seemed quite familiar with and knew that the Cosway was north a bit. By this time the sun was resting on the horizon - much like most survivors had experienced it seemed to be lying down, the last bit of its red light bleeding out across the sky. Soon that light would be extinguished and it would only be until it spent time in darkness that it would arise again. He turned to his travel companion and said, "This is as far as I can take you." Getting late on in the evening, he was sure that a new face at the residence wouldn't be as well received as he would in more defining light. "If you need some food, you should be able to barter a bit here. If you want a more permanent place to stay... you're probably best to head north around noon. Just look for the building with the large crack in it."
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Post by kinrrataiyath on Sept 18, 2007 19:40:32 GMT -5
((>.> I'll jump back in when you guys get into the Cosway.))
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zpansven
Free Runner
Karen Howard
Posts: 144
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Post by zpansven on Sept 18, 2007 23:38:38 GMT -5
Brett's head tilted slightly; it was wise to be leery of unfamiliar faces and the sudden paranoia meant that he was close to home. But that didn't mean he was home free just yet, not with rotters and loonies hanging around.
"Sure thing, boyo. Just one last thing."
Slowly, deliberately the scientist pulled out his revolver from where it was hidden in his waistband by his tied sweatshirt and in a smooth flick of motion, the cylinder cleared the frame. Cupping the cylinder, Brett turned the firearm upwards and felt the bullets fall into his palm worth a tinny clatter, slightly warm from the gun's close proximity to his body. "Watch these for me. Last of my ammo -- I only carry one pistol and my last shotgun got turned to slag by a loony in a firefight a few 'burbs back."
The empty cylinder clicked back into the frame before he tucked the unloaded weapon back into his waistband. Brett held out his hand, with a full clip's worth of loose bullets in his hand to his red-haired 'friend'.
"You might be close to home, but we both know that don't mean jacksh*t nowadays," Brett said. "Looks like you got picked clean when you were shambling, so any ammo you had might be close to nil. Right now, you need these more then me."
It was a sign of goodwill and a peace offering for the red-head and whatever friends he had at his safehouse, handing over the last of his ammo. Yeah, he had a fire-axe and crowbar hanging from the makeshift loops in his pack and a pair of knives hidden on his person, but that was different from the protection a gun offered.
"The name's Brett, boyo."
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Post by Red Dawson on Sept 19, 2007 10:27:56 GMT -5
He looked at Brett for a moment; his vision was getting better but with the failing light, he really couldn't get much more off his face than he had before. However, dropping all your ammo and handing it over was a big sign of faith, and he couldn't just leave the guy sans ammo - even if he was lying and had some loose bullets in a pocket. He outstretched his hand, palm up. "Red. And if you're going to be handing over ammo then you might be cool with leaving your other implements," he glanced to the axe and crowbar, "by the entrance. If that's the case then I'll take you in tonight. If they don't want you there, I'll escort you back up. You get your bullets and tools... and you might be able to try again during light. Cool?"
Red had no idea of who would be up at this time; the current residents of the Cosway were a jumble of face - some with names - and he couldn't recall what schedules people were keeping these days. With luck, someone moderate would be around and let Brett stay the evening. In his defense Brett did help him out. Then again, he was familiar with certain nihilists that assisted shamblers or bands of psychos by getting a look-see inside potential targets. The odds of that, seeing how disoriented Brett was with the suburb's layout, seemed unlikely but it was still a risk with any new face. Well, it didn't matter - Red had posed the offer. It wouldn't be the first time he got steam for something, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
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zpansven
Free Runner
Karen Howard
Posts: 144
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Post by zpansven on Sept 19, 2007 12:04:43 GMT -5
"Red. Shoulda figured with the hair," Brett said with a faint snort of laughter, biting back the cackle that was bubbling in his throat again. "Yeah, it's fine with me. Lead the way -- you look how I feel, dead tired, if you pardon the lousy joke..."
The quasi-sane scientist gave him a crooked grin, not mentioning the times he'd killed with his bare hands. No, it wouldn't do to frighten him; when things were open, when he knew that there wouldn't be the possibility of people shooting at him for speaking honestly...then he'd tell them. After all, coming out and telling any potential flatmates he'd killed a few breathers before they knew he wasn't a threat to them was suicidal and he didn't look forward to shambling around again anytime soon.
Besides, one never knew the current condition of a safehouse -- if it was in the hands of shamblers or hostiles, it would be of poor conscious to let Red go back to a possible demise while still recovering. Not that Brett minded bodyguard duty -- wouldn't be the first time, probably wouldn't be the last.
At least this time, the breather was able to move around on his own to legs...
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Post by Red Dawson on Sept 19, 2007 14:05:59 GMT -5
((I'm guessing that Brett handed over the bullets. If I'm wrong just let me know and I'll edit the post))
He gave a nod and, after tossing the bullets into his rucksack and zipping it shut, led onward. With the state of his thoughts at the moment, Red didn't really catch on the humor of Brett's words... he probably wouldn't have gotten the humor of anything at the moment. The gaps in his memory were filled with a dark grey void, bringing forth a rather dismal perception of the world around him. Hopefully that would all fade with time and the reordering of his thoughts and knowledges, but he didn't put too much faith in that. The only sanctuary he had going for him now was the Cosway, so he could just curl up in a hole... a closet. He had set up residence in a large storage closet on the main floor. It didn't matter if he remembered where he stayed, he just knew that he needed time to adjust - away from anyone else.
As the pair of travelers got closer, Red noticed the large gash in the side of the Cosway - seeing it firsthand helped to reinforce the shifty memory of the stoic little building. With each building they crossed he kept his eyes open for any activity, and was rewarded by a glimpse of light peeping through a seem in a barricaded window. At least someone was still using the building. It hadn't been long but much could happen in a span of a couple days. Feeling a little more confident, he picked up the pace - his muscles slowly easing back into the activities of the living - and eventually found himself on its roof. He turned back to Brett as he made his way across the plank from the Marston, waiting for him to complete the crossing.
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zpansven
Free Runner
Karen Howard
Posts: 144
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Post by zpansven on Sept 19, 2007 16:13:59 GMT -5
((yup, Red's got the last of the ammo for Brett's pistol.))
The scientist was a bit more confident in crossing the plankway and stopped beside the red-haired man, eyeballing the building with the crack in it; windows were 'caded and there was evidence of a genny. Inhabited then, hopefully by Red's friends.
Brett tilted his head and grinned crookedly as he quipped. "Home again, home again, jiggidy-jig."
The blank look Red sent his way caused the scientist to crack up, letting loose the cackle that had been wanting out since they had teamed up. "Mmehehehehaa--"
Brett covered his mouth, cutting off his cackling; many times he compared his laugh to a crazed, rabid hyena. With a clearing of his throat, he lowered his hand, giving Red a sheepish look. "Uhh...sorry. At least I'm not in my old lab coat -- I always got freaky looks when I was wearing that thing and laughing... Of course that could have been because of all the blood on it..."
Straightening, the brunette shifted his pack, focusing his eyes on the building with the crack in it's side to fight off embarrassment. "Ahem... Ahhahaa... Anyway...welcome home, boyo. Lets get you back inside and patched up..."
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Post by Red Dawson on Sept 21, 2007 8:57:55 GMT -5
Yeah. Perhaps it would have been better having Brett come in during the daylight hours. That was on Red mind but he was tired and at this point there really was no turning back. He turned without a word and made his way to the roof access door. As he drew nearer Red motioned to the area next to it, finally saying you can drop your stuff here until you get the 'OK' sign..." He opened the door and looked back to Brett, "...or you can toss them in my rucksack with the ammo in there. At least you wouldn't have to worry about someone running off with your things. Your choice." There were downsides for Brett on both angles but really, that's just the way it was. Either way, Red wasn't going to just let an armed potential loon just waltz in.
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zpansven
Free Runner
Karen Howard
Posts: 144
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Post by zpansven on Sept 21, 2007 20:00:30 GMT -5
"Toss 'em in with my ammo, boyo," Brett said with a sigh slowly and carefully pulling his axe free of the loop; spinning it to the blade towards him, he watched red take the handle, shifting to open the rucksack. When he was certain Red had a good grip on his prized axe, the scientist slipped his crowbar free and passed it over to the red-haired man as well.
Should he hand over his knives too...? The fact he tended to laugh like a razed, rabid, possibly dying hyena and babbled when nervous were probably freaking the man out enough....
Biting back a sigh, Brett came to the sad decision, yes, the knives too.
"Hold on...." he sighed and knelt down, pulling up his jeans' pants legs one at a time to unstrap the makeshift straps securing a sheathed knife on each ankle. Straightening, he placed them in the empty rucksack along with his ammo, axe, and crowbar. "That's all of it besides my fists, boyo, and I can't take those off."
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Post by kinrrataiyath on Sept 21, 2007 21:03:00 GMT -5
Kin woke to a crick in her neck and a numbness along one arm. She tried to move, but abandoned the effort almost immediately as the numbness exploded into pins and needles. The sudden onslaught took her breath away momentarily, crippling her where she lay. Yet the longer she lay like that, the worse it got.
Sucking in a sharp breath between her teeth, the young scientist rolled over onto her back. She kept her arm pulled tightly against her body, fearful that moving it might only make it worse again. Once her back pressed against the cold, dirty floor, she let the long held breath hiss out and drew in another. Bit by bit, the pain began to subside and her tense muscles began to relax.
Sleeping on the floor was apparently not good for one's comfort.
Several minutes passed in what felt like an eternity. There was no sound to break the silence; not even the scurrying of a rat. Her eyes focussed blurrily on the ceiling until at last she felt safe in feeling across the floor for her glasses. As soon as the cool metal frame touched her nose, the room came into sharp relief. Kin blinked a few times, turned her head to the side and stared at the window.
Night was falling again. Or had she not slept at all? Her mind felt as if it were moving through a barrel of molasses as she sought for bits and pieces of information that would tell her where and when she was. She came across fragments of dreams, bits of nightmares, always the same. His face was there, swimming before her eyes, but there was no accompanying body. She turned her head the other way to look up at the doorknob. It stared back at her; rusty and dimly reflective as it had always been. No one had touched it.
Kin let out a long sigh. She'd slept here the entire day and still there was no sign of Red. Grimacing, she brought her hands back and pushed against the ground until her body levered itself up into a sitting position. The world listed on its side and her head pounded horribly. Bolts of pain shot up and down her spine as if she'd just twisted it around and tied it in several knots. She pulled her legs up to her chest and bent forward to hug them, relieving some of the tension from her sore muscles. Her eyes closed as her head lay gently against her knees. She'd slept the entire day on the ground in hopes of being the first to see Red's return, and still there was no sign. Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe he really wasn't coming back. The flicker of dying hope caused her to shiver as the pit of her stomach seemed to drop away. She really was a wreck.
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Post by Red Dawson on Sept 24, 2007 10:12:10 GMT -5
He gave a nod to the last statement as he placed the knives in with the rest of the gear. Red didn't like the idea of leaving anyone completely defenseless unless there was an absolutely good reason for it, which could be seen in the care he took when he put Brett's personal items into the rucksack. Giving up the concealed blades was not necessary - he figured that the guy had something extra packed away - but it would be a point in his favor for trying to take residence in the Cosway, for whatever time frame that might be. At that point, Red really didn't care too much what happened; he wanted to get all of this over with and move on. But he would stick around long enough to give back Brett's things, be that right there inside the building or back on the roof.
He led on once more, this time down into the depths of the building. Despite the lights being on, there wasn't too much activity at the time. This wasn't a big surprise with the strange hours survivors kept, but it did make bringing in a new face a bit difficult. He couldn't recall ever going through this before, thinking that he wasn't the type to bring just anyone in off the streets, but he really couldn't take total faith in his memories at this moment. That was just another reason to get this done as quickly as possible. It wasn't long until he spotted someone that had some degree of clout in the Cosway, and Red made his way over to that person to handle introductions.
((Since there's been a lot of inactivity on the board, if no one jumps in within a reasonable amount of time I'd say that we could pick up after the introductions are made and move the thread along. If that's the case, we can always start a new thread later that would handle any drama that might have happened during the initial meeting. I think it's the best play, what do you two think?))
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zpansven
Free Runner
Karen Howard
Posts: 144
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Post by zpansven on Sept 25, 2007 19:53:40 GMT -5
((Sounds good to me))
The scientist meandered behind the red-head, studying the interior of the building on his way; there was the normal signs of damage from zombie infestation -- cleaned blood stains and the like, along with fire, smoke, and water damage. It was a building with a long, and at times violent, history, apparently...
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Post by kinrrataiyath on Sept 26, 2007 9:44:00 GMT -5
((Kin's just hanging out in the lobby so... Actually I'm not sure if you guys mean to run into her or not. o.O Should I move her?))
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