Natasha Dean

An LAPD officer.

0 · 97 views · located in Season 2

a character in “The Walking Dead: Online”, originally authored by MoonlightWraith, as played by RolePlayGateway


Natasha Dean



 Template #
- 7

 Profession
- Police Officer

 Portrayed by
- Emily VanCamp

 Age
- 26

 Gender
- Female

 Height/Weight
- 5ft 8in and 125lbs

 Nationality/Ethnicity
- White British

 Tattoos/Scars
- One scar where she was shoot by a criminal, managed to survive.

 Clothing/Outfit
- White loose fitting tank top
- Black leather jacket
- Skinny jeans


 3 Strengths
- Athletic
- Quick thinker
- Caring

 3 Flaws
- Untrusting
- Quick to Judge
- Stubborn


 Fears
- Losing those closest to her
- Never having a family
- The dark

 Aspirations
- Becoming a police detective,

 Dominant Emotion
- Seriousness

 Demeanour
- Natasha is a very serious person and tends to smile only when she sees the people she cares for the most, most of the time her face is in a neutral or near constant frown.

 Quirks/Oddities
- Bites her lip when thinking
- Plays with bracelet when nervous

 Skills/Proficiencies
- Hand to hand combat
- Marksmanship
- CPR and First aid


 Any item/weapon that your character typically has on them?
- A 9mm Beretta
- A PB60 Baton

 Do they carry any keepsakes, trinkets, or valuables on them?
- Her bracelets, given to her by her current boyfriend

 What is their weapon of choice?
- Her 9mm Beretta

 Is there a special piece of clothing or jewellery that they typically wear?
- Her bracelets, for the same reason as above.


 Bullet points the major events and people in your character's past.
- Born in London, England and passed all GCSEs and A-levels.
- Went to Police Academy at age 19 and passed with flying colours.
- Meet current boyfriend on her 23rd birthday and been with him ever since.
- Moved to Los Angeles with boyfriend and got a job in the LAPD.
- Got shot by a criminal but survived and is now returning home from the hospital.

So begins...

Natasha Dean's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean

0.00 INK

Natasha Dean

Natasha stepped out from her car and looked up at the Precinct building, she sighed as she prepared to walk into the building, returning to work after being shot, no doubt someone would say something, let alone what Phillip was going to say to her when he finds out she went to work.

Natasha smiled as one of the other cops left the double doors and held them open for her, "Thanks, Barry." She said as she stepped through the doors and into the reception.
"Natasha!" The receptionist shrieked with excitement. "Oh my god, it's so good to see you're okay. But shouldn't you be at one resting?" Natasha shook her head, whilst looking at the receptionist.
"I'll rest when I die." Natasha joked before walking through to the female lockers, before the door closed she could hear the receptionist yelling in.
"It won't be long if you keep up like this! Natasha merely rolled her eyes and started to change into her uniform, tying her hair up into a ponytail and then leaving the lockers.

Natasha waited outside for her partner, leaning on the patrol car, she sipped some of the hot chocolate she had in her hands, she couldn't stand tea or coffee and so made do with hot chocolate. She watched as one of the double doors opened and her partner came out, his face happy as always, the good cop, John. Natasha smiled as he spotted her, in uniform, waiting by his car.
"Natasha?" He seemed to be questioning his sanity.
"Yep, come on, we got work to do." She smiled before throwing the keys to him.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" Natasha just shook her head.
"When do I ever rest?" Natasha looked at him, her face passing on the 'really?' vibe.

The patrol car went about its round, arresting criminals and abusers. Natasha was being particularly rough with those that they were rounding up.
'We have a 10-103m on Atlantic Boulevard, please respond.' The radio announced and Natasha looked to John, her eyebrows narrowed.
"10-4, we're on our way to the scene." John replied and the sirens began to wail as the car made it's way to the scene.
"An insane person? On Atlantic Boulevard?" Natasha asked, wondering if the code had been received right.
"Maybe their wife just drove them insane." John replied not giving it another thought before arriving at them scene.

Arriving at the scene, there was a man crouched over a body, eating the remnants of the body and Natasha sighed.
"Not another bath salts. John sighed, before grabbing his radio. "10-97, Atlantic Boulevard, 10-24, suspected bath salts." Natasha looked to John, who was now approaching the body, her heart beat raced in her ears as she watched John approach the mental patient. "Sir, please step away from body." He shouted, Natasha had watched as a crowd appeared to see the commotion, a girl began screaming and that's when the attacker twisted its head viciously in her direction. Seeming to forget about the body before it, the attacker made his way towards the girl, biting at the air and limping on it's right leg. Natasha took her gun out and aimed at the attacker, as did John.
"Stop where you are!" Natasha yelled but the attacker then turned his attentions on her and made his way towards the officers. "John, what do we do?" Natasha asked, but John just seemed frozen, paralysed. So Natasha took it upon herself to take control of the situation and fired one round into his good leg, but he just kept coming for her, shocked she put another bullet into his leg and all it did was make him fall to the ground, he didn't seem phased or at all in pain. Natasha fired her entire round into his body but he still didn't stop and then John shot him in the head and he stopped.

The pair rushed to the half eaten victim, there was no pulse and there would have been no way they'd even survive that.
"10-45d, 10-55d." John said into his radio, before he stood up and placed his hand over his mouth, slowly letting it slide away. He then shooed everyone off as the rest of the officers showed up to cordon off the scene from the public eyes. John and Natasha were told to return to the precinct, which they did yet on their way back they got another broadcast.
10-74, possible lead on theft.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC)

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Natasha Dean
Natasha looked up to John, the only thing he had said since the incident was '10-4' as they drove to the apartment address they were told was the address on record for the culprit. Natasha watched him, he had witnessed so much, yet this was the tipping point. He looked so drained, his skin had paled and his pupils dilated, this would definitely leave a scar. Natasha looked outside at the building,
"Is this is?" she asked out loud and John merely nodded. Natasha put her hand on his arm and he looked at her. "Just stay in the car, I'll handle this." she offered him a smile as she got out from the car and made her way to the entrance.

Dyomie Thornes
Things started to get a bit darker, and not just the sky, as Dyomie headed back to her apartment. She could hear distant screaming that seemed to come from the whole city; it was enough to make anyone a little edgy. So she picked up her pace a little and kept her eyes sweeping the areas around her, just as if she were on a another job.

When she turned the corner to get inside her apartment, she was thinking of barricading the doors and windows; more so when she saw the flashing red and blue lights parked in front. A blond woman was getting out and heading towards the door. Dyomie's mind raced to think of what to do; on one hand there was always running, but on the other there was her sister and for any reason her sister did not need to know what she did to get most of their money.

She stood completely still, just barely in the dark and out of sight of the car. Her brain worked over time and the cop's motions seemed almost too slow to be real as she calculated her plan. There was a loud clatter to her right which caught the criminal's attention. It was just some drunk, staggering around, nothing to bat an eye at. This drunk, however, seemed to be rather off. Something about him didn't register to her mind like a normal drunk and he looked mutilated, for lack of a better word.

"You okay there love?" Dyomie asked, sort of regretting drawing his attention to her even before she said anything. The guy looked at her and started to stagger towards her more frantically, making growling and gurgling noises. Dyomie began to walk towards the apartment, forgetting completely about the cops because she had a feeling this guy was one to run away from rather than fight. She didn't realize what she was doing until she backed into the cop.

Now she was in trouble.

Dyomie smiled politely at the cop, "Sorry officer, wasn't really looking where I was going. This guy is just kind of freaking me out," she said pointing to the staggering, mutilated drunk that was coming towards them.

Natasha Dean
Heard some talking from the alley, but she ignored the voices as she stepped towards the apartment entrance, yet before she could pull the door open a young woman bumped into her, warning Natasha to the presence of another man. His movements were similar to that of the man from earlier.

Natasha placed her hand on the holster, she could hear screaming from all directions and the sun was certainly beginning to set as she watched the drunk stumble towards the two.
"Sir, stay where you are." Natasha ordered, yet he took no notice of her and continued to stumble towards the girl. "Sir." She yelled, his face then turned crookedly to look at her, his eyes glassy. "Sir, can you understand me?" She asked, the entire situation reminded her of a zombie movie, the police force and the ambulance service were running around like headless chickens and there was more violence, riots and disturbances all across the city, not only in this jurisdiction.

As her thoughts returned to her, Natasha looked back to the man who was approaching at his sluggish pace, if zombie movies taught her anything, it was shoot them in the head, so she did. Expecting John to get out of the car and curse her, yet hearing nothing, sje spun round to look at him, unconscious in the front seat. "Oh god, no." She cried before running to the car door and yanking it open, John falling out. "John? John!" She cried, shaking him violently to no response. She looked up to the girl. "Hey go in and get any loved ones and come back here, immediately. We have to get outta here." She told her. "I promise, I'll protect you."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC)

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Dyomie Thornes
Marie Thornes

After seeing the scene unfold in front of her Dyomie was utterly confused. One, she had just thought that guy was a mutilated drunk; two, when he got closer the more she could see that something was more wrong with him than just being a drunk; and three, a cop just shot him. She sort of guessed that the last one could be four as well as a cop just saved her by shooting another person.

After the gunshot went off, the cop made a promise to protect her, again weird, but the gunshot seemed to be attracting a few straggling others who were like that guy. There was a scream down the street and people running around, Dyomie had to squint, but she could see, or she thought she saw, one of those mutilated drunks eating another person.

"That may be, but you can't do that out here can you?" Dyomie said. She dropped what she had gotten at the store and unlocked the door, dragging the cop to her apartment. Inside she found Marie sitting and watching TV, yet looking too excited and happy to even be paying attention to what she was watching.

Marie immediately noticed the grave look on her sister's face and the fact that she had a cop with her, "What is going on?" she asked.
"I'm not entirely sure Tidbit, but it looks like we'll be moving to a different place," Dyomie said. She locked the door behind her and put one of their heaviest chairs in front, turning the lights and TV off and pulling the curtains on the windows, "Just so we don't attract any of their attention," she said as a way to explain what she was doing.

"What are you talking about? And why are you acting so weird? We can't move I've got to start training as early as I can and I need to contact that guy again!" Marie said, the more she talked the shriller her voice became. Dyomie was at her side in an instant, a hand over her sister's mouth.

"No yelling. There are some things out there, I'm not sure what they are, but they do seem dangerous. This cop here just killed one and I have a feeling that that trainer guy is dead or will be soon. Something is happening Marie and it isn't going to end well," she then stood up and looked to the cop, "I propose we stay here for the night, don't draw too much attention to ourselves and maybe get some supplies together before we leave in the morning. It's getting to be too dark out there and we can't move if there are more of those things walking around. Marie help-"

"But Dy what is going on?" Marie asked in a loud whisper.

Dyomie sighed, brushing a hand through her hair and she looked at the cop, "I don't know, but I need you to co-operate with me. You two stay in here and raid the kitchen and everywhere else for clothes, water, food, weapons, anything you can find useful; and I'll check in my room." At that last part she gave Marie a meaningful look before heading off to her room to search her stash of thieving tools.

Marie looked uncomfortably to the cop, "I promise she isn't always like this," she said standing up, "I'm Marie Thornes by the way and she's my sister Dyomie. What's your name?" then as an after thought Marie changed her question, "I don't suppose you can tell me what's going on?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC)

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Natasha Dean & Phillip Wilson

Natasha didn't hesitate long, she followed Dyomie willingly into the apartment building, even though the world was going crazy, she couldn't help but check out the apartment she was sent to search, scanning each number as she and Dyomie ran up the staircase.

When they finally reached Dyomie's apartment, a slight gasp escaped her lips, not only had she killed 2 people, she was now aiding a criminal. Natasha shook her head, there was no law, not anymore so she bit her tongue and made sure to check all her possessions whilst in her presence.

Once in the apartment, Natasha let the two sisters chat away, using this time to collect herself. The best bet for survival would be to flee the city, to cut all ties and just leave everyone and everything behind, but she couldn't, she promised to help Dyomie and her sister, she also had to make sure Phillip was alright.

"I promise she isn't always like this, I'm Marie Thornes by the way and she's my sister Dyomie. What's your name?" Natasha heard the other girl say and she nodded with a slight smile, until the girl added on a second question. "I don't suppose you can tell me what's going on?"

"Nice to meet you, I'm Natasha, Natasha Dean." Natasha managed to croak, she hadn't noticed how dry her throat was, her adrenaline and her surge of emotions just seemed to stop her feeling anything. After clearing her throat, she attempted an answer. "Honestly? It's like Dawn of the Dead out there. As ridiculous as that is, it's the only answer I have for you."

Natasha could feel her worry beginning to set in and she took out her phone. "Sorry, I just have to make a call. Gimme two seconds." She whispered to Marie. Natasha opened her contacts and scrolled down to P, opening Phillip's contact details she hit dial and waited nervously, her feet tapping impatiently as she waited for an answer.
"Hello?" She heard a groggy, tired voice answer.
"Shh, Phillip, be quiet and listen. Whatever you do, don't turn anything on, no lights, no TV, no radio, nothing. Barricade the door and close all the windows, curtains and blinds. Something big is happening and you just gotta trust me, honey." There was a silence on the other end, Natasha nervously tapping her teeth.

"Baby, what's wrong?" She could hear the genuine worry in his voice.
"Just do it and prepare an emergency bag, fill it with food and water, clothes, medicine and a gun or two. I'll ring you in the morning, if I can't get through I'll try and get to the house, if you don't hear from me, by 1pm just flee the city."
Not even questioning her judgement, all she heard was, "I love you, goodbye babe." Knowing he had listened a smile tugged on her lips, but hearing those words caused a tear or two to roll down her cheek.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC)

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Dyomie Thornes
Marie Thornes

Marie watched as the cop woman made a call. She was left unsure of what to do, on one hand her sister had given her orders, but then again she wasn't sure if she should follow those orders as she didn't know what was going on, even the cop's description didn't help her understand. Dawn of the Dead? Marie thought, wandering over to the fridge and starting to pull out some food, placing them on the counter. Her brain wasn't really functioning, first she got accepted into the gymnastics division of the Olympics, then her sister left to get celebratory things, and now they were in some kind of lock down and readying themselves to leave the city, all because her sister apparently got spooked by something that resembled a zombie from the movies. Her hands moved by themselves right now, placing everything from the fridge onto the counter regardless of it being cheese, fruits, milk, or butter. When that was down she moved to the cupboards and started the same thing, all without saying a word.

Meanwhile Dyomie was in her room, frantically searching for anything to help. All her weapons, which wasn't very much just a rifle that had it's attachable scope and a pistol, were on her bed along with a small lock-picking kit, and her spare walky-talky. There honestly wasn't much stuff in her room that would prepare for anything like this, just her job of stealing and even then it was mostly others' stuff that they used or she left the stuff there to be more conspicuous while travelling back home. She through all that stuff into her backpack, grabbing a couple duffle-bags she had, and throwing only about three pairs of clothing to change; though there was a ticker jacket, gloves, and a hat in there.

As she came out she saw the "progress" the other two had completed, which wasn't very much. Marie was busy, if you could call it that, with food and the cop was just finishing up a call. Dyomie thought this would be as good a time as any. She let the bags drop on the floor and walked over to the cop.

"I hope everyone is accounted for goldie?" she asked, an odd way of asking if her people were fine. Then in a lower voice she leaned towards the cop's ear to make sure that Marie didn't hear, "Listen, since it seems we maybe working together to survive and since you've probably already figured out who I am I need to ask you a favor. Tidbit over there doesn't know what I do for a living, she just thinks I'm a business woman and I would kind of prefer to keep it that way. So if you can, please don't tell her." This was neither a question nor a command, but rather a plea leaning on the side of an unsaid warning. At this point Dyomie completely dropped her pride, her sister must never know what she did to pay there rent and for fun, pride be damned at this point. This wasn't something that had happened often that Dyomie was forced to let go of her pride for a greater situation at hand, but they did happen occasionally. Sure Dyomie didn't love the idea that this woman was coming to arrest her, her diabolical schemes having left some trail to her, or the fact that their wonderful world where Marie's life was coming together perfectly was now a Hell, but still Dyomie's biggest worry was her sister finding out. Why? Was it pride? Was it just a secret to protect Marie? No it was the undoubted fear that Marie was going to stop loving her older sister out of embarrassment or disgust of what the truth was. Of losing the only person that ever seemed to love her no matter what, but like all love, this love was conditional and Dyomie didn't want to find out what those conditions were because then it would be too late.

There were groans coming from outside as more of those mutilated drunks wandered outside, some screams even started from nearby apartments, setting Dyomie's nerves on edge that it was only a matter of time that they would come to their door. Marie had dropped her some food at the sound of the screaming and ducked behind the counter, grabbing her knees for safety. Dyomie still held the cop's gaze, however, and wasn't going to let it go until this woman had given an answer. Waiting to see what she would do if the woman were to say "no".


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC)

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Natasha Dean
Natasha jumped slightly at the sound of the bag dropping and she looked up to the thief, she noticed she was watching her, they were both aware of what the other knew. Before Natasha could say anything, Dyomie spoke.
"I hope everyone is accounted for goldie?" Natasha nodded, holding back her tears at the thought of Phillip back at the apartment.

Dyomie then leant closer to her and whispered, making sure Marie couldn't hear. "Listen, since it seems we maybe working together to survive and since you've probably already figured out who I am I need to ask you a favor. Tidbit over there doesn't know what I do for a living, she just thinks I'm a business woman and I would kind of prefer to keep it that way. So if you can, please don't tell her."
Natasha knew what Dyomie did was wrong and it certainly made her seem less trustful, but right now they'd need each other and if Natasha had too consider her certain skill set, it would definitely be a good thing to have in a survival team.

After a moments hesitation, Natasha looked back up to Dyomie.
"You're secrets safe with me," she said with a smile. "The way I see it, there'd be no point in arresting you anymore and... you've a pretty necessary skill set for survival." She let out a light laugh, lightly nudging Dyomie with her arm. "I'll go help your sister with the food and bottle some water up."

Natasha woke her phone screen up to check for a message but saw she had no signal, she bit her lip and let out a sigh before stepping into the kitchen area. "Hey, Marie? You got any spare or empty bottles we can fill with water?" She asked, starting to help her gather the canned foods. As they were emptying the cupboards, the radio clipped to her belt started to static, Natasha quickly grabbed the receiver and pressed the button.
"Hello? Hello?!" She whispered into the radio. "Please respond."
"Natasha?" She heard the receptionist reply. "Oh my god, Natasha, please help me! I've looked the doors to the station but there's some sort of mob rioting outside! I'm so scared, a few of the cops have come back and they all got a few scraps and bites from some crazies. There's a few of us holed up here but only 3 of us haven't blacked out..." There was a silence followed by a muffled growl. "Wait, Jerome has just woke up! Jerome, you okay?" before Natasha could warn her there was a scream emitted from the radio, Natasha quickly muted it and looked up from the radio, her hand covering her mouth.
"Oh my god." She managed to breath, her body started to shake. "Even the station... what's happening?" She looked to Dyomie, hoping her input would help.

Looking back at her radio, she regained herself. "We need a plan, we need weapons and gear, and I need to get my boyfriend. I don't want to ask this, but please, come with me? I'll literally run into my apartment, come straight back out and then we'll go to the precinct building and gather a few weapons and leave the city." Natasha didn't want to burden them with saving her boyfriend, but the promise of weapons and protection had to be something.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC)

0.00 INK

Dyomie Thornes
Marie Thornes

Dymoie rushed over to the kitchen when she heard the screaming come from the walkie that the cop had, Marie had a hand over her heart after being startled. Neither of the sisters moved for a while, they feared it was loud enough that the walkers down the hall could have heard. So they waited. Hearts pounding louder than ever. Their eyes focused solely on each other.

A groan came from the hall and the the door knob moved slightly. Slowly at first, but getting more frantic with each second. Dymoie gave a murderous look towards the cop before running to the bags she got. She threw one to her sister who began piling random things of food in it. Dyomie went to her sisters room and shoved wrinkled clothes inside. When she came back to the kitchen the walker outside started pounding on the door and a loud growl that could have once been yelling.

"So much for being discrete tonight!" Dyomie yelled. She gave the cop the bag with the clothes inside while she picked up her backpack that held the only weapons, the two walkies, her stolen gold cup, and a few other basic thieving tools. "We'll have to climb onto the fire escape," Dyomie said leaning to look out the window. She couldn't see much, it was getting to be too dark for visuals. Though she could see the cop's car not too far from where the fire escape dropped off. It was hard to think over the loud growling coming from outside their door, which had grown even louder as the walker brought some friends, and having them all pound and tear at the door.

"Get your keys ready blondie, once we're on the ground we can make a break for your car and go get your boyfriend and more importantly the weapons," Dyomie took a deep breath and opened the window, "You first blondie and try not to attract more attention than you already have. Then you go behind her Marie, I'll come last."

The door started splintering under the pressure and the girls could see wrinkled, peeled, and slightly grey fingers clawing at them through the small openings. "Now! Go, go, GO!" Dyomie yelled, shoving Natasha towards the window. Dyomie took out the rifle, not exactly planning on shooting one of these creatures, but it could still be used to bludgeon the damn things.

"Hey Tidbit," Dyomie called over her shoulder, her eyes firmly on the door.

"What?!" Marie practically screamed, though it was more from fear and adrenalin than frustration with her sister. That made Dyomie smile a little; it was comical of sorts, her normally care-free sister was freaking out.

"Just remember that whatever happens, I love you," Dyomie said looking over her shoulder this time, eyes resting on her sister's frozen-in-fear expression. She smiled gently, "And I am very proud of you."

"I love you too," Marie said, walking backwards towards the window, "Just stay alive for me okay Dy?"

"Wasn't really planning on dying," the thief said bringing her face back to the door where she could now see arms waving at her. She stood there. Quietly maintaining that position. Until she heard a whistle from outside. She looked and saw that the other two got out okay. A head popped through the door now. Dyomie took one moment to smack before rushing out the window herself. She ran and jumped down the metal staircase of the fire escape, landing on her two feet at the bottom. She looked in both directions to see if it was clear. Of course, it wasn't. There were a few straggling walkers coming towards them, but not in life ending sizes. Dyomie flipped one of them off before running to the car. She crawled in the back seat with her sister, slamming the door behind her.

"DRIVE!" Dyomie yelled. She let herself lean back in the seat. A smile on her face again as she found her sister's hand and grabbed hold of it. It didn't escape her that here she was sitting in the back of a cop car, Never expected to be here. Especially trusting cop at the end of the world, she thought to herself as she looked out into the night.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC)

0.00 INK

Natasha Deans & Phillip Wilson

Natasha heard the groans from the other side of the door and she shook her head, "So much for being discrete tonight!"
How was I supposed to know she’d scream?” Natasha replied stubbornly before grabbing the bag of clothes from Dyomie and watched as she made her way over to the window.
"We'll have to climb onto the fire escape,"

"Get your keys ready blondie, once we're on the ground we can make a break for your car and go get your boyfriend and more importantly the weapons, you first blondie and try not to attract more attention than you already have. Then you go behind her Marie, I'll come last." Natasha squinted her eyes at Dyomie and shook her head. "Now! Go, go, GO!" Slinging the bag over her shoulders, Natasha climbed out the window with a sigh as Dyomie pushed her from behind.
I’m going! Calm down!” She whisper/shouted at her.

Natasha quickly scrambled down the fire escape, looking in through the windows, she noticed some of the monsters in certain apartments, either ideally bumping about the rooms and eating other humans.

Natasha swallowed her vomit and let the shiver crawl up her spine as she abandoned anyone asking her for help through their windows, Natasha looked at her uniform but shook her head, mouthing a sorry to one of the people she passed.

Natasha made it to the bottom of the fire escape, so far none of the walkers had gathered near the bottom and so she dropped down, pulling out her baton she clubbed one that was too close to the car for comfort before stomping their head in with her boot. Taking out the keys to the car, she fumbled to open the door but managed it before Marie had even reached the bottom.

Sitting in the car, made her feel vulnerable as she waited for the sisters, the engine was running and she could feel the walkers approaching. Suddenly, Dyomie jumped in yelling.
DRIVE!” Hearing the voice, Natasha hit her foot on the gas as she speed down the street. Heading towards her apartment building.

Arriving outside, Natasha opened the private garage and drove in the door closing quickly behind them as they stopped the car. The garage was relatively quiet and it seemed the apartment was quite safe for the moment, of course, a few walkers were bound to be in the building, and no way everyone in the building was safe or free.

You can stay here, I’ll only be a few minutes. But you can come with me if you want. The doors only open with a code and that gate won’t open without this, so the garage is safe for now.” Natasha showed the girls a fob, it didn’t look like much but it contained a microchip that opened and closed the gate, her stare was directed at Dyomie as she implied she wasn’t trusting her to not steal the car.

Regardless of the girls choice, Natasha quickly ran up to the staircase doors and entered the code, the door opening and Natasha walking into the staircase, she noticed there were no walkers on the staircase. She let out a sigh of relief and ran up the stairs, 2 at a time until she made it to her floor, her breath was gone but she couldn’t stop. She took in a deep breathe and looked through the doors window, there was currently none of the walkers walking about the halls and so she unlocked the door, sneaking into the hall ensuring there was no walkers around and so she continued to her apartment, unlocking the door with her key.

Natasha opened the door, silently closing the door behind her she went into the bedroom. “Phillip?” She whispered and he sat up.
Natasha, thank god!” He quickly got up and ran over to her, hugging her tightly. He kissed her forehead and moved down to kiss her lips, which she didn’t resist. She pushed him away and then whispered into his ear.
Quickly, grab the bag you prepared while I get changed.” Natasha ran over to the wardrobe and pulled out a white loose fitting tank top, her leather jacket and a pair of skinny jeans. Quickly striping down, she pulled the outfit on and finished it off with a pair of black boots. “Ready?” She asked Phillip as he returned with a bag and a pair of sweats covering his legs.

As they were leaving the apartment, Phillip grabbed his hoodie and they left the apartment, the hall had 4 walkers roaming about it now and Natasha grabbed her pistol and baton and beat them on the head, while Phillip used his baseball bat and took down the remaining two walkers.

The pair quickly ran down to the garage after dispatching the walkers and running to the garage, once in the safety in the garage, Natasha pulled Phillip into a hug and kissed him. Once she pulled back, she rested her head in her shoulder. “I thought you might have died.” She said, clutching the fabric of his hoodie and resisting her tears. They quickly ran to the car and climbed into it, they looked at the sisters. “We should be safe in here, that gate is secure enough to prevent anyone or anything getting in. It’s the same with the staircase, we could stay here the night and then go to the police station during the day? It’d probably be safer.” Natasha suggested to the sisters.
I’ll do whatever you want, Tasha.” Phillip said, implying he agreed with her.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC)

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Dyomie Thornes
Marie Thornes

While Natasha went up into the building to get her boyfriend, Dyomie stayed behind with her sister. She looked around. There wasn't much in the garage, but there were a spare few things here and there. Dyomie took out one of their bags and started putting whatever she could find inside it; be it tools, a pair of roller skates, and something random on the ground that she didn't look to closely at.

"Dy?" Marie said. Dyomie looked over to her sister who was hugging herself, "What happens now?"

Dyomie knew what Marie meant. It wasn't just what happens next, but what happens when they get out of the city, or if they survive, "Honestly Tidbit I'm not sure. The best we can do now is survive, for each other. Live from day to day or second to second. I doubt there will be much planning after all this." She said walking over to Marie and hugging her. Everything was quiet, which left Dyomie a bit unsettled, but she knew that at this moment they were safe enough to just hold each other. Natasha came back into the garage with the door banging loudly, a man coming behind her. The two got into the car, with the sisters scrambling in after them.

"We should be safe in here, that gate is secure enough to prevent anyone or anything getting in. It’s the same with the staircase, we could stay here the night and then go to the police station during the day? It’d probably be safer," Natasha said.

Dyomie looked to her sister who was unwilling to hold a gaze with anyone. She would love to keep her sister safe for the night, but just because this cop believed this place to be secure Dyomie couldn't help but think of those things busting down her door. Plus she doubted if anyone was going to get sleep tonight and if they weren't going to sleep then they should be trying to put distance between themselves and the city. "I think we should head to the police station. You said their would be weapons and I think we should keep moving. If we stop that will give these things time to find us and catch up. We should just keep moving," Dyomie said. The thief was pretty sure that this woman was going to start fighting with her, but surprisingly no words were exchanged, just the car starting to move again.

Outside it was complete chaos. Cars were crashed on the sides of the roads, bodies were everywhere, and small fires starting in some of the buildings. It certainly did look like the world had ended with them passing slowly by it. Some of the walkers had taken interest in the moving vehicle, but thankfully there was enough stuff between them and the walkers that the things were stumbling slowly to get to them. The station wasn't far from where they had left, but it had taken longer than it would have on a good day, what with the traffic and the fact they had to drive through some allies at times. When they pulled up to the station however, Dyomie was starting to regret her choice at coming here when it was getting so dark.

Walkers were surrounding the station, stumbling aimlessly around the building. They had parked a little ways away when they noticed the walkers in the distance. The cop turned the car off, hoping none of them had taken notice in the noise of the engine.

"What now?" Marie asked. Dyomie dragged her hand over her face as she thought. It was too late to head back to the safety of the garage now and they needed whatever weapons they could get, meaning they had to get inside that station.

"We'll have to clear it out so we can give ourselves more time to gather whatever weapons are left," Dyomie said. Her brain worked hard at trying to figure out how to do this. She was a thief, sure she wasn't used to killing monsters, but essentially what they were doing was going to steal weapons. Something clicked in her head. They were just here to steal. She looked towards the walkers as they walked back and forth, just like guards. This was like any other mission she had accomplished so far, she was telling herself, the only difference was she was going up against monsters who seemed to like the taste of human flesh and she didn't know where anything was, she would be going in blind in other words.

"Alright, blondie you're with me. We'll have to take these things out one at a time and as quickly and quietly as possible. We'll clear a path out here so when the inside is safe you," she pointed to the guy, "and Tidbit can run in quickly if needed, but don't come in until I tell you Marie. Still have your walkie?"

Marie nodded.

"Good. Now blondie, since this is your station you're the best one to help me figure out where these weapons are, so you'll need to stay behind me every step of the way and take out any of these Cretans that come too close. I'll head out in front and take out as many as I can. We'll move step by step in this, the trick is to keep going only stopping for a few seconds and don't make any noise; breathe through the nose and walk on the balls of your feet; always stay in a position that you'll be ready to fight in, elbows in, a good balanced position; and most importantly no guns," Dyomie said giving Natasha instructions. She looked towards the building. The walkers were mostly crowded around the front door and windows beside it. There was a door on the side, but Dyomie planned to go to the roof in case it was jammed, locked she would be able to deal with but jammed would cause too much noise to get through. She took a deep breath and got out of the car, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. They would have to look for something to use as weapons now since their guns would be staying with Marie and the Natasha's honey. There were two bits of metal, probably from something that had broken off there. She picked them up and gave one to Natasha.

"Ready blondie? Though honestly it doesn't matter if you are or not," Dyomie said as she made her way to the station. Her movements were that of a trained thief, quick, quiet, and sure footed. She was constantly looking in every direction she could and the bar she had in her hand was raised and ready to hit something. Just another day at the job, she kept reminding herself as they neared the station, their direction towards the side door, sidelining away from the big crowd of walkers out front.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC)

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Natasha Dean & Phillip Wilson

Natasha nodded as Dyomie suggested they kept moving, if anything it was a far better plan than just locking up for the night, they’d be sitting ducks if any of the things outside knew where they were. She wanted to argue with the plan, yet she couldn’t find any flaw and so she nodded before starting the engine and driving out the garage door.

Natasha had seen somethings during her time as a cop, but this was surely something no one would ever expect or get used too. The streets were empty, bare for a few of the things slowly wandering around, aimlessly until there attention was caught by the car and then they attempted to follow, but failed miserably.

Natasha kept her eyes on the road and how she was going to navigate around the city to the police station, but she knew the others were staring at the crumbling world around them. Natasha let out a breath and wondered if this was just happening in America, she was scared incase this was happening to her family back home, she quickly shook her head of the thought as the station came into view.

"What now?" Natasha heard Marie ask, it made her jump as she had forgotten about everyone else in the car.
We'll have to clear it out so we can give ourselves more time to gather whatever weapons are left," Natasha turned in her seat to face, Dyomie, she was calling all the shots at this point, after all this was just like a normal job for her. "Alright, blondie you're with me. We'll have to take these things out one at a time and as quickly and quietly as possible. We'll clear a path out here so when the inside is safe you," Dyomie pointed at Phillip, who politely nodded, "and Tidbit can run in quickly if needed, but don't come in until I tell you Marie. Still have your walkie?"

Natasha looked to Phillip, she was going to be leaving him outside with all these things, if he got hurt or worse, Natasha didn’t know what she would do. Chances are she’d take it out on Dyomie, blame her. If he gets hurt… No he won’t, Natasha, Phillip’s more capable than most. Natasha thought to herself. Her attention brought back to the conversation at hand.

"Good. Now blondie, since this is your station you're the best one to help me figure out where these weapons are, so you'll need to stay behind me every step of the way and take out any of these Cretans that come too close. I'll head out in front and take out as many as I can. We'll move step by step in this, the trick is to keep going only stopping for a few seconds and don't make any noise; breathe through the nose and walk on the balls of your feet; always stay in a position that you'll be ready to fight in, elbows in, a good balanced position; and most importantly no guns," Natasha sighed, it wasn’t like Dyomie was teaching her anything new, she learned all this in the Academy, it was the technique used for a shootout or when sneaking around for someone who doesn’t need to know you’re there. Natasha looked down at the metal club, Dyomie was handing her and shook her head, rejecting the metal piece and took out her baton. “Ready blondie? Though honestly it doesn't matter if you are or not," Dyomie said before silently darted towards the station, her movements were lithe and quick. Natasha followed, her style was more run and duck, run and duck, hiding behind any form of cover she could. Darting into an alleyway, she hugged the wall, making sure to keep quiet, she took out her key for the side door and tried the lock, she heard the click and lightly pushed the door, making sure not to make any noise as she did. She looked back to Dyomie and nodded, signalling to move in.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes

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Dyomie Thornes
Natasha Dean

After signalling to Dyomie, Natasha stepped into the hallway, there was a strong smell of blood, vomit and sweat. Natasha clung as tightly to the walls as possible, she looked back to make sure Dyomie had followed before signalling her to follow her into the first door on their right, the Investigation Division, the room was empty and once Dyomie had followed, she quickly closed the door. "Okay, the Armoury is the next door down on the right and across from that there's the evidence storage, we'll get all the weapons we need in those two rooms. I'm also gonna have to look for survivors and other supplies, like medicine and stuff like that. So what do you wanna do first?"

"Let's start with the closest room and make our way out," Dyomie said. She was breathing a bit more heavily than if it were a normal job, having to take out a few of the creatures already. There was a moment back there that she couldn't figure out. She had stabbed one in the chest, close to the hear, but that didn't do anything to slow it down. After stabbing it several more times it fell after she stab its head. Dyomie was confused to say the least, how could these things still come after her even after she had stabbed it that many times in chest, but goes down after one blow to the head. She shook her head, now wasn't the time to analyze these things, they had a mission.

"I'll go out first and see if I can clear a path, if I can't I'll come back to you through the vents," Dyomie said her eyes looking at the ceiling for the ventilation entrance, there wasn't any that she could see right now, so she just left the room.

Out in the hallway, lights were slightly flickering, revealing dead bodies on the ground. Dyomie made her way slowly, stepping over limbs without making hardly any noise, her "weapon" ready to strike. She had made it quite a ways down before anything happened, the flickering light behind her now making her path completely dark in front of her. She let out a sigh and took a step. It was the wrong step. Instead of walking over someone she had actually stepped on them, effectively waking them up. The walker lunged forward, sending Dyomie into a wall and on the ground, she could feel more bodies beside her. The thing came at her flashing in and out of existence with the light. Its face was half ripped off revealing dangling skin and scraped bone. Its teeth snapped in front of her face and Dyomie struggled to get it off. She held it with one arm as her weapon reached back and drove the metal pole into its head with such force that she rolled over on top of it.

Though she hadn't made a sound, the creature made enough raucous to waken up the rest of the walkers in the hall. They began to stand up and stumble their way towards her. She looked behind her, a few stood up there as well, but she still backed up. It would be useless to fight these things without any light. Their stumbling became more anxious and it wasn't too long before they were in front of her. Dyomie let out a long breath. She wasn't entirely certain how to kill these things, but hitting the head seemed to work well enough and it was the only way she knew how at this point. She crouched down, spinning the broken pole in her hand and a small sadistic smile on her face. The first one lunged at her, she jumped out of the way and drove the poll into its head as it came in front of her. Another one swiped its hand at her causing her to duck and then pushing the pole up underneath its jaw. This continued for a little bit longer as the animated corpses had been staggered out, luckily enough, so they didn't all come at her at once. She had taken out one corpse after another until there was a pile of five or so at her feet, but then she stopped her and chuckles, which she didn't realize she was laughing, had stopped. A small horde was coming towards her, all together instead of one at a time.

"Shit," she muttered, knowing full well that it wouldn't be as easy or fun when there were that many that would be piling on her. They were still a little ways down so she had time to locate a vent. It wasn't too high off the ground, a small jump and she would be in. Without looking back Dyomie ran to the vent, smashed it open with the pole and jumped in. Though she could hear the walkers almost right next to her and a few finger brushing her pants. This made her scramble a bit and quickly draw her legs in so that she was curled up in the vent. It was completely dark in there and she had no idea of which way to turn to get back to the cop or if there was a walker inside here as well. She really hoped there wasn't because there would be no way for her to fight it off. With that, she began to make her way forward taking turns that she figured would get her back into the Investigative Division room.

Natasha nodded, agreeing with them not splitting up and sticking together. But then Dyomie ran off on her own, Natasha went to go after her but Dyomie was already away down the corridor, stepping over the ‘sleepers’.

Natasha sighed before closing the door as gently as possible and then walking over to one of the chairs and took a seat, waiting for Dyomie to come back. She could hear the fighting outside, “Why did she go out on her own?” Natasha sighed, but she realized she should have just went with her, instead of leaving her to it. Looking over at the door, she started to tap her finger impatiently. Natasha then got up and wandered into the video observation room and looked into the adjoining room, certain no one was in there she flicked the light on. Sitting in a corner of the locked room was the receptionist, her hand clutching the left of her abdomen, blood seeping through her fingers and her face drained of colour.

Natasha quickly ran to the door, entering the code to open the electronic lock and walked into the room. The receptionist looked up at her, her eyes and cheeks soaked with tears and her skin pale from blood loss.
“Natasha…” She managed to whisper.
“Ssh, it’s okay.” She said looking at the wound, lightly gripping her free hand. “What happened?”
“A riot… psychos… random attacks… everything.” She managed through tired gasps for air. “There was an announcement on… on the tv... everyone retreated back here… they all went feral… attack everyone… Barry… Barry bit me… on my side…” Natasha flinched in shock, the receptionist didn’t notice but Natasha remained calm and got up.
“I’m going to try and find you some help, we’ll clean up the wound and get it covered. Just stay awake, okay.” Natasha then ran out of the room, closing the door behind her.

In the main room, Natasha could hear shuffling in the vents above her. She quickly ran to the wall and pulled open the vent shaft. “Dyomie!" Natasha whispered into the vents, hoping she would follow her voice, but expecting her to have stolen the weapons and tried to find her own way out. “Dyomie!” she called again.

With a sharp pain in her leg, Dyomie crept on, her hands dragging along the sides of the vents to alert her of when there was a turn, and her breath coming out loudly. The inside of the vent was very hot and small, nothing she hadn't experienced before, but this time there were loud growling noises coming from where she left. Thankfully the walkers were too stupid to climb in after her. She took a deep breath and started whistling a tune, it started off as a random diddy, but eventually became "It's a Small World". Dyomie was trying not to laugh thinking of how the walkers all around the building would be gathering at the vents because of her little song.

Then she heard Natasha's voice whispering through the vents. She had to stop whistling to even hear it above the growling. It bounced all around her, confusing her of which way it was coming from. Her hand slipped as it found another turn. She took it and saw a small box of light a little ways up ahead. She crawled, ignoring the pain in her right leg. Briefly taking a break at the entrance, she looked out to make sure there weren't any walkers waiting for her in the room. When there wasn't any evidence that suggested so, she jumped down, cringing slighting.

She heard a moan and saw a woman on the ground holding her side and blood dripped from it, she also heard Natasha's voice, but it was coming through an open door. Dyomie made her way to the door to find Natasha whispering into the vent.

Dyomie leaned against the door frame, "You just going to waste time there while there's a woman dying over here blondie?" Dyomie asked.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes

0.00 INK

Natasha Dean

Natasha looked back at the sound of Dyomie falling, she let out a sigh of relief, as she let the idea of Dyomie abandoning her and killing or hurting Phillip subside.
She looked back at the receptionist and shook her head. "I need to get to the kitchenette, there's a chance the first aid kit is still in there, unless they've already used it." Natasha looked up at the ventilation shafts. "These should run through the entire building, there's a chance I could get to the kitchen through these, if it isn't there…" Natasha tilted her head to look past Dyomie, at the dying receptionist. "I'll have to leave her, I can't risk putting you and your sister in danger because I tried to help her." she told Dyomie in a hushed voice before climbing into the vents herself, she looked back at Dyomie and gave her a smile. "I'll get the guns and the first aid, you wait here, make sure she doesn't die." Natasha ordered her before crawling into the vents, she did her best to get to the kitchenette but she ended up in the communications supervisor's room.

Holding the baton up, she cracked the door open to peer into the communication centre, the room was empty but any wrong movement or loud noise and whatever was out there would come for her, so she'd have to take her time and watch every set she made. The kitchenette was just next to the supervisor's room but she still had to be careful, once in the kitchenette, she silently closed the door and started searching the cupboards but she couldn't find anything, she took a step back as it dawned on her she would have to abandon her and let her die, surrounded by whatever these things were and not by her loved ones. Letting out a sigh, she looked around the room for an entrance to the ventilation systems and luckily it was on the ceiling and if Natasha was to reach it, she would have to climb up the cupboards, carefully, any slip up and she'll make a loud crash and it'll cause her to attract the attention of all those things. As she tried her best to climb up the cupboard, she noticed it loosening and the cupboard getting much less unstable, Natasha just about pulled herself into the vents as the cupboard crashed into the ground, the noise attracting whatever it was outside and causing a regular banging on the door, a sigh escaped her lips as she realised how lucky she was at climbing into the vents and not falling with the cupboard.

Crawling through the vents, Natasha stopped as she heard a voice, coming from the room below her, a radio broadcast.
"This is not a test, please, if you are listening to this broadcast, flee the city. A bombing of Los Angeles is imminent, please escape the city before it's too late!" The static was loud but Natasha could still make it out before it looped. Natasha quickly crawled through the vents, jumping out into the investigations room.
"Dyomie, we have to go." She told her, hoping the receptionist couldn't hear. "I know it's cruel but we have to leave, the military are about to bomb the city." She whispered, looking to make sure the receptionist wasn't listening. "Just outside, there's a sewer grate, go down it and wait for me at the ladders, I'll get the guns, just get Phillip and Marie to safety. If I'm not there when you hear the explosions, go on without me."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC)

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Dyomie Thornes
Marie Thornes

Natasha Dean
Phillip Wilson

Dyomie huffed and slumped to one hip when Natasha gave her orders, The nerve of that woman, she thought as she walked back into the room with the woman. She was blubbering at this point and Dyomie sat down next to her. "I know it hurts now, but with all the blood you've lost it won't be long before all pain will go away," she said in consolation. The woman looked at her.

"W-w-what?" she asked.

"From what I can see you're almost dead, then you won't feel any more pain. You should be making your peace with that fact instead of complaining about the pain," Dyomie answered. The woman's blubbering only increased at this, the ex-thief rolled her eyes. Then the woman's breath started to come out in more jagged and her tears stopped, with one last huff she slumped where she was, her eyes still open.

"What did I say?" Dyomie said standing up. She walked to the door about to put the lights out and leave the corpse in there, when she heard a thump behind her. She looked and saw the woman move, "Excuse me?" Another movement, then the jaw moved like it was chewing, and milk white eyes glanced towards Dyomie. The receptionist began moving towards her making growling noises. "What?" Dyomie asked. She quickly picked her pole up where she had put it down and stabbed the woman in the head before backing away. Dyomie closed and locked the door. When the quite started to settle into her she looked down to her leg. It wasn't bleeding profusely, but it did seem to be cut a little. She pulled back her blood stained pants and looked at it, the cut was fairly clean through, no jaggedness to suggest one of the walkers got her. She sighed a little, sure she didn't know what would happen if one of them did get her, but honestly she didn't really want to find out.

Before Dyomie could look for something to wrap it in, Natasha dropped back down into the room. "Dyomie, we have to go." Natasha whispered to Dyomie. "I know it's cruel but we have to leave, the military are about to bomb the city." Natasha looked back to the receptionist. "Just outside, there's a sewer grate, go down it and wait for me at the ladders, I'll get the guns, just get Phillip and Marie to safety. If I'm not there when you hear the explosions, go on without me."

"Now that I can do," Dyomie said, she thought it would be funnier if she didn't specify what it was she could do. Dyomie went out into the hallway and headed out the building. A couple of walkers saw her and started after her, she stopped her running and turned to face them. They stumbled and slashed, but being re-animated corpses, apparently, they were clumsy and slow. Dyomie dashed left to right, never standing still, she stabbed them each in the head after she got behind them. Without stopping she immediately ran to the car. She knocked on the side, Marie jumped out and hugged her.

"Quick grab our things, the city's about to be bombed, we need to head underground," Dyomie said.

"What about Natasha?" the boyfriend asked.

[b]"She's getting the guns, but in the meantime I'm taking care of you, so grab your stuff."
Phillip took the biggest load as he had also grabbed Natasha's bags. Dyomie cut a strip of fabric off from the car seat and wrapped it around her leg, running after the other two to the sewer entrance. Phillip was almost there first and opened the grate, he turned the flashlight on and stopped. There was a small horde of walkers grabbing up at them.

"What do we do now?" Marie asked as Dyomie caught up. She looked down and cursed at seeing the horde. There wasn't much time to figure out where to go. Phillip closed the grate and looked to Dyomie. She sighed.

"Let's leave a note for Natasha saying we're heading towards the metro tunnels, I believe there's an entrance close by here somewhere."

"Leave the not in what?" Phillip asked. Apparently he was going to be a hard one to push on and leaving Natasha behind like this.

Dyomie unwrapped her leg, "Well we have blood," she said. She covered her finger and began to write on the ground, 'Don't go in here, go to metro'-Dy. When that was done, bad hand-writing, but legible, Dyomie re-wrapped her wound and ushered the other to forward, having to literally pull Phillip behind her as he protested.

Dyomie could hear helicopters in the distance when they finally reached the tunnel's entrance. Dyomie through Phillip ahead of them, his flashlight illuminating their way. Marie grabbed her sister's hand. They made their way in, but didn't go too far down. Phillip insisted they stayed within seeing distance to the exit just in case.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC)

0.00 INK

Natasha Dean & Phillip Wilson

Natasha let out a light sigh as she watched Dyomie leave, she was scared but she couldn't let it show, she had to keep going. Turning back to the ventilation shaft, she pulled herself up into it again and made her as many educated guesses as to the direction of the gun store, but her guesses only got her so close and it was good enough for her.

Slipping out from the vent, Natasha crouched down as she took her steps cautiously and with haste, any minute now the city would be lit up like a bonfire and she'd have to get underground before that could happen. The hallway was too quiet, as she made her way down it, looking down, she noticed Dyomie had left a few bodies littering the hallway and the door open, so some must have wandered out of the building and onto the street.

Natasha, after finally reaching the door, quickly made her way in and locked the behind her. Hitting a light switch, Natasha was surprised to see that the lights still worked and she quickly set about filling a duffle bag with guns and their respective ammo, a few batons and even tear gas, after watching one too many post apocolypse movies and playing one too many survival games, Natasha knew that humans would be the greatest threat next to whatever the things outside were. However, that wasn't what worried her the most, she could her the sound of oncoming helicopters approaching.

Finally filling the bag, Natasha grabbed a few flashlights, flares and glow sticks and managed to fit them into the bag, which was too big and heavy for her to bring through the vents. Opening the door, she looked to the door which Dyomie had conveniently left open and Natasha made a run for the door, looking behind her, she looked down every hallway and watched as more walkers started to emerge, she kept pushing herself down the hallway and as she ran out the door, she quickly whipped around and slapped the door closed before running to the sewer grate. Lifting it, she noticed the huddle walkers reaching up at her. "Shit." Escaped her lips as she looked around for a clue, nothing, no note or even trail. Natasha rubbed her forehead with a sigh and as she did looked down on the ground, there was blood on the floor but it was smudged slightly but the last word was clear. Metro.

Natasha quickly took off, the walkers slowly walking towards her, she could hear the helicopters now, they were right on top of her. Natasha pushed herself harder as she neared the entrance, it was getting hard to breath and her legs were killing her, but she had to keep going. Bang. Natasha's heart stopped as she heard the first bang and several screams. "Oh my god." Natasha could see the entrance and she pushed herself forward. She leapt down the steps to the entrance and landed at the bottom but she was so exhausted she fell to the floor. Bang. Another explosion came from outside.

"Tasha!" She heard the familiar voice call as she looked up to see Phillip reaching down to pick her up. "What's happening out there?"
"There's no… no time. We have to go deeper." Natasha said through heavy breaths as Phillip helped her up. "Come on, we have to hurry." She said as she nodded to Dyomie in approval and thanks for keeping her word and keeping Phillip safe.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC) Character Portrait: Rafiq Chedidi Character Portrait: Jessica Abbott (NPC) Character Portrait: George Remington (NPC)

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Dyomie Thornes
Marie Thornes

Dyomie sat down, giving her injured leg a break, Marie looked down at her worriedly, but Dyomie just ignored her gaze. That would be something to address later. Then they heard the bombs starting in the distance. Marie sat down and curled into her older sister, Dyomie watched Phillip with great intensity to make sure he wasn't honestly stupid enough to go running outside at this moment. She was about to stand up and say they should get deeper into the metro tunnels when heavy footsteps could be heard in the distance. Dyomie looked and sure enough Natasha was scrambling towards them.

"Son of bitch," Dyomie said, shaking her head. In all honesty she hadn't thought that this woman would actually make it back to them. Phillip in a completely emotional scene ran towards his girlfriend and hugged her. This is exactly why she was never in a relationship, way too cheesy.

"Come on, we have to hurry," Natasha said. She nodded to Dyomie in approval of keeping Phillip safe, the thief cringed at that, Great now a cop is approving my actions. This is just fantastic, she thought. They all grabbed their bags and started to move hastily down into the tunnels. Dyomie held a flashlight as they got deep enough no light could be seen. The walls and ceiling rumbled around them as the bombs hit the ground, sending small pebbled raining on their heads with a boom that made Dyomie and Marie want to ever their ears.

It was Dyomie who had heard the voices first. She pushed Marie against the wall, hoping the others would do the same. "There are people up ahead," Dyomie mouthed, she handed Marie one of her walkie-talkies as well as pulled out her pistol. She dropped her bag on the ground, "I'm going to go talk to them, if things go wrong find another tunnel to go," she whispered. At this point Dyomie felt it was a bit redundant to say 'and protect Marie with your life', plus it would also put Marie in a worse mindset. Without any answers, Dyomie nodded and walked up to the corner. She looked around the corner and saw a train cart that was trapped, a few others were moving around it trying to help whoever was inside.

"George! We have to get back to the maintenance room! We'll figure this out later!" a boy shouted to the others.

A woman nodded, "You heard the boy! Let's go!" As the people moved it looked as though they were coming towards them. Dyomie crept around the corner, staying close to the wall, her pistol cocked and ready to fire if needed. She then stepped out in front of them, a safe enough distance between both groups.

"Stop there or I'll shoot!" Dyomie yelled at them, her pistol raised, "What do you want?" Her hand was steady and her eyes narrowed. There was no way they were going to get passed her until she knew for sure they were safe.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Calvin Hawke Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Harper Hopkins Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC) Character Portrait: Sarah Hawke (NPC) Character Portrait: Nathan McDonald (NPC) Character Portrait: Lillian "Lily" Strong (NPC) Character Portrait: James Marshall (NPC) Character Portrait: Jack Cavanagh (NPC) Character Portrait: Wayne Williams (NPC) Character Portrait: Rafiq Chedidi Character Portrait: Steve Hilpin (NPC) Character Portrait: Tara Schantz (NPC) Character Portrait: Jessica Abbott (NPC) Character Portrait: Samuel Abbott (NPC) Character Portrait: Annabelle Mae McCallister (NPC) Character Portrait: Niobe Kajja Character Portrait: Carl Dupree (NPC) Character Portrait: George Remington (NPC) Character Portrait: Molly LeFleur (NPC) Character Portrait: Everett T. Bronson (NPC) Character Portrait: Oliver O'Brien (NPC) Character Portrait: Dax Faraday (NPC)

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.: Calvin Hawke :.
# Sarah Hawke #


Thunderous quakes shook the ground as dozens of convicts shepherded a hooded man down the halls towards the kitchens. Their riotous noise-making was almost enough to overpower the sound of the distant bombs dropping, but not quite. The captive was corralled across the kitchen tile and thrown into the walk-in freezer. Sarah struggled on the tips of her toes to see what was happening, but the halls were packed with too many bodies. Through the heads of the men ahead of her, she managed to see Oliver force himself into the freezer with a bearded man and the prisoner.


Another explosion in the distance, followed by the aftershock of a neighboring building crumbling to the ground. Sarah looked at the mob of strangers scrambling for cover all around her, feeling absolutely lost and alone. A passing shoulder knocked her to the ground, and Dax -- having witnessed Sarah's fall -- limped over to help her off her hands and knees.

Her eyes lit up when she saw who it was, his bright red hair like a lighthouse amongst the chaos. "T-Thank you," Sarah managed to blurt out. Dax pulled her to her feet, nodding curtly.

"This way," he ordered, starting down one of the side halls. She took his arm, helping to steady the man as they moved away from the frenzied crowd. Sarah looked over her shoulder one last time, hopelessly checking for Oliver in the mass of convicts. She hoped that whatever was happening behind that freezer door had nothing to do with him -- however serious it looked.

If only she knew...

* * *

Inside the freezer, Bronson slammed Calvin against the metal rack, cuffing his right hand to one of its legs. Oliver closed the door behind him as he entered, turning around just as Bronson ripped the bag from Calvin's head. He squinted against the crystal blue fluorescent light -- a bandana crudely tied around his head and mouth in a makeshift gag. His reddened eyes glared back and forth between his two captors as he sat on the freezing plate floor, shackled to the rack behind him.

Oliver shook his head, running one hand over his face to calm his nerves. He waited a beat for Bronson to speak, but knew that the man probably felt he had nothing to explain. Since things had gone down, Bronson had assumed total authority over the surviving convicts, including Oliver -- so much so that the men had coined the monicker "The Warden" for their bearded leader. The assumption was that his orders went without question, his means and deviances without mention -- and in return he would provide security, safety, and sustenance for those who followed him. And the cycle continued, and continued... leaving Oliver as the only real voice of reason. Had things gone down differently, Bronson would have likely killed him during their escape from the prison bus, but he recognized that Oliver was the only reason they survived in the first place. He wondered how long that immunity would hold out for -- given the way things had been going lately.

"What the hell is this, Everett?" Oliver asked, jabbing a finger at Calvin.

Bronson sighed, dramatically. "Now why would you go and use my name -- my God-given birth name -- in front of our prisoner?" Oliver rolled his eyes, as if that was the point here."Are you fucking stupid?"

"Explain this before I get pissed," Oliver replied, already tired of these games. Calvin wrestled with his wrist against the pole, testing the strength of his bindings. Bronson served up a sharp kick in the knee to shut him up, and Calvin yanked his leg back in pain.

"Maybe if you had been around today when I needed you, we wouldn't be in this situation," Bronson chided, circling the floor. "This man murdered my brother," he explained, turning to look at Calvin. The two glared at each other for more than a moment, reveling in their dislike for one another. "He was smart enough not to resist me when I found him, and so I've brought him here to serve his sentence."

Oliver shook his head at the ego of it all. "Serve his sentence? Listen to you! Did you really just break out of prison to start another one?" he scolded. "You ever think of asking him why he killed your brother?"

"Finally, someone with some sense," Calvin chimed in from the floor. Bronson delivered another sharp kick, this time to his shin. His handcuffs rang taut against the rack as he winced in pain, grasping for his leg. Oliver leapt forward, placing his arm across Bronson's chest as he wound up for another kick -- this one aimed at Calvin's stomach.

"You really gonna put hands on me, boy?" Bronson asked, calmly. Oliver eased up, eyeing the man with suspicion. He knew from their time together in the joint just how unpredictable the man could be. It was a very calculated impulsiveness -- one that treaded the fine line between genius and suicidal. But there was something in Oliver's eyes that Bronson didn't like. He wound back, quickly striking out with his elbow against Oliver's jaw. The man reeled backwards into one of the other metal racks, gripping it with all his strength to keep himself steady. Cansan d bags of food clamored on the ground as they were knocked free of their shelves. Bronson was already on him again, this time driving his knee into Oliver's stomach. His limp frame dropped to the ground, effortlessly. This was the real Everett T. Bronson... the "Warden" that everyone whispered about. He reached down and drew a knife out from Oliver's waistband.


The Warden turned to Calvin, examining the knife in his hand like a surgeon with his tools. He inched a few steps closer to his prisoner, pondering his fate...


Another bomb dropped as he placed a foot on Calvin's chest, pinning him against the rack. His other hand grasped Calvin's handcuffed wrist and braced it to the pole, holding the knife close. But, no... it didn't add up. His brother was an idiot -- too much so to be considered his right hand man. Besides, such a small knife would take too long for a proper severing, and Bronson hated doing a messy job. He backed off a bit, watching Calvin wreathe and squirm against his restraints in protest.


Dust sifted down from fresh cracks in the ceiling, falling past Bronson's judging eyes. What was his brother to him? What punishment fit the crime? He supposed that in a way, he was his eyes and ears. Always the talker, never the thinker -- his dear baby brother. That seemed fair enough -- an eye for an eye.

Having finally decided, he looked Calvin straight in his... for the last time.

* * *

+ Niobe Kajja +

The bold young woman kept her weapon held high as she popped out from behind the corner of the overturned train car. The girl kept a steady aim on Niobe as others from the group crept out from behind the car. Niobe watched as the girl's eyes widened and she adjusted the grip on her gun.

"Easy there now, kid," Niobe muttered, keeping as still as could be. Another girl came up from behind the armed one and put her hand on the gun, lowering it.

"There's a little girl with them," she said, nodding in Lily's direction. Dyomie noticed what she was talking about and dropped her guard a bit. Natasha joined them, sauntering out from her hiding spot with her weapon drawn -- Phillip close behind. They looked just like the rest of them... as if they had just been through Hell and back.


They all braced themselves as the entire platform shook again, the metal rails ringing like church bells as parts of the ceiling crumbled from above loosening the tracks. Niobe sized up the four newcomers.

"Look," she called out, "this is the most people I've seen in one place since this all started... so I know I'm not crazy when I say we need to stick together if we're going to have any kind of future here. None of us know each other, I know... but that's the situation we're in." Harper looked at Nathan -- and Steve, who stood behind Lily with his hands on her shoulders. "There's no more how do-you-do's, no more shaking hands and talking about the weather. There is only one thing... survival."


The hanging silence was stifled by yet another explosion. "She's right," Rafiq added, pushing to the front of the crowd. "We can't keep pointing guns at each other when the real enemy is out there." He pointed up towards the streets above. "We have to go deeper into the tunnels until the bombings stop."

Dyomie squinted her eyes, still unsure of what to do. "We don't know you people," she protested in defense of her situation.

Niobe lowered her weapon, slowly -- too tired to put up with anymore of this. "And you're not going to at the other end of a gun," she preached.

Jessica lovingly squeezed her son's shoulders as she edged towards the front of the group. "There's a junction about a quarter mile down the tracks that could hold all of us. It might be tight, but the foundation should hold until all of this settles down," she advised, looking around the group.

Jack crossed his arms. "One of our friends is still out there," he protested, pointing behind him. "Calvin could have made it somewhere safe before the bombs got this close..."

Harper's gaze lowered to the ground. "So the best possible scenario is that Calvin's holed up somewhere with a bunch of psychotic escaped convicts?" Molly stood next to her, chewing her lip in thought. Something they had mentioned caught her ear, and it all suddenly added up in a flash.

"Calvin... Hawke?" She asked, hanging on their every breath. Harper looked around at some of the others, not quite understanding. He was enough of an established film personality that anyone with a TV would know the name, but Molly's face didn't show the excitement of a fan... it showed nothing but worry and panic.

"Uhh, yeah... Calvin Hawke," Harper replied to the girl.

Molly looked Rafiq dead in the eyes. "That's Sarah's brother..." she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Rafiq furrowed his brow, sad that she wasn't here to rejoice in the news that her brother is alive... or at least, was a minute ago. Only time would tell how many deaths they'd be mourning in the inevitable aftermath of the bombings.

"Who?" Harper asked eagerly, her interest peaking.

Rafiq shook his head. "One of our own is missing too," Rafiq replied, somberly. "Sarah." Harper traded a look with Nathan through the crowd.

"Two of our own," George corrected, bristling at the thought of his poor dog.

Rafiq nodded. "His dog went with her..."

Niobe holstered her gun and took in the group. "There's nothing we can do for them now," she insisted. As much as they all hated the thought, she was right. It was only them now -- they had to keep moving. "Jessica, lead on..." Niobe commanded. The group slowly started trudging along, helping each other around the wreckage of the train cars and debris. Dyomie glanced back at Marie and the rest of her group, slowly stowing her pistol and following suit. Jessica pulled to the front, guiding the group deeper into the blackened metro tunnel. The pitter-patter of over a dozen different footsteps trailed behind her as more bombs thudded against the surface above. Niobe gritted her teeth as she ran, hoping she knew what she was doing. Whatever this new world was, it was clear that the rules were made up as you went along.

If this really was the end... she had a feeling it was only just getting started.



Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC) Character Portrait: Lillian "Lily" Strong (NPC) Character Portrait: Niobe Kajja

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Nathan McDonald (NPC) Character Portrait: Jack Cavanagh (NPC) Character Portrait: Steve Hilpin (NPC) Character Portrait: Tara Schantz (NPC) Character Portrait: Carl Dupree (NPC) Character Portrait: George Remington (NPC)

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The setting changes from season-1 to Season 2


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Marie Thornes (NPC) Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC) Character Portrait: Lillian "Lily" Strong (NPC) Character Portrait: Niobe Kajja

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Natasha Dean
Phillip Wilson

Natasha sat at a table, her muscles were still sore from the push to make it to the metro tunnels without getting incinerated, the build up of lactic acid certainly made most of her muscles sore, especially in her legs for a while after the run, but it was still sore to move them too much. She looked at the bag before her, she got enough guns and ammo from the weapon store to arm the group, but Natasha didn't know whether or not to trust the people down here, she had very little reason to trust any of them. Natasha would have to talk about it with Dyomie but she'd have to look for her first.

Natasha pushed herself up from where she and Phillip had made their bed, as she managed to limp away Phillip noticed her from the fire barrel and ran over. "Hey, hey! Take it easy." He warned her, his voice laced with worry and sincerity, but Natasha shook her head at him.
"I'm fine, Phillip, it's not like I broke a bone, it's just tired muscles." Natasha told him, before pushing away from him. "You don't have to worry." Natasha placed a kiss on his lips before heading off to look for Dyomie. The bag was hidden where no one would even think to look for a bag full of weapons and she was sure no one had saw her place it there, so Natasha went to the place where she had hidden it.

On her way there, she noticed Niobe storming out of one of the offices, Natasha gave her a weak smile, but she was unsure whether or not Niobe even noticed or not, she just looked so angry. Natasha thought nothing of it and continued on her way, passing by Lillian she gave the young girl a smile. "Hey there, how you holding up?" She asked the young girl, no doubt this entire event will have caused a lot of emotions to flow through the girls mind, Natasha wondered where her parents must have been during the outbreak but didn't think it polite to mention it to anyone. She stayed for a few minutes to talk to the youngest of the group before excusing herself and making her way to the weapons.

It took her awhile to get there, it was right where they had met the other survivors, the over turned station car and she smiled to the person on watch, "Hey, I'll take over, you go get some rest." Once sure they had left, Natasha used her flashlight to locate the vent shaft she had stashed the guns in, having found it she pulled them out and checked everything was there, once sure everything was there, she took out her walkie talkie, she and Dyomie had decided to have a private wavelength, both Phillip and Marie were on the wavelength but they rarely had their radios on now that the group was relatively safe down here. "Hey, Dyomie, I need you to come back to the over turned car, help me keep watch." Aware that Dyomie might be around someone that would wonder, she added the last part just to be sure.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Nathan McDonald (NPC) Character Portrait: Jack Cavanagh (NPC) Character Portrait: Tara Schantz (NPC) Character Portrait: George Remington (NPC)

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Dyomie Thornes

Dyomie along an empty road by herself, she had gotten up early that morning wanting to do some scavenging of her own, without the vulture eyes of the group. She had wandered decently far from the entrance to the metro, but the group had almost exhausted their resources that were found around where they were 'holed up', in the most literal sense of the phrase. A week had gone past and since then the cut on Dyomie's leg had almost all but healed. Not that it was ever serious, but Marie was insistent that she not walk on it and kept it clean while it healed up, which was probably for the best.

As of right now Dyomie hadn't found that much, a few road trip snacks and some water bottles, along with some soap. She wasn't that interested in grabbing the soap, but Jessica had started cleaning clothes for them and said that if anybody found soap to bring it back. She was honestly just glad somebody else took up that job. Over the last week or so Dyomie, though not really starting to trust others, had started to make some connections with others in the group; Jack and she had formed an unusual friendship, one that held quite a bit of flirting and her calling him 'Superman'. She found out, by ease dropping and the like, that he was a bit of a criminal himself, though nothing as major as herself. She had been hesitant at letting him in on her secret, but if he told someone she could always return the favor or injure him and run. There was also Schantz, or as Dyomie called her 'Ren girl', they weren't too close, but held a mutual respect for one another. Finally there was Natasha, the cop a.k.a 'Blondie', she still held no trust in this woman because after all they met when she was going to arrest her, but over the week she had proven herself a bit. She had kept the secret of them hiding their guns well and so far she had done nothing to prove that she was going to hurt Marie. In other words, Natasha held the the highest status in Dyomie's books compared to the other strangers.

As they walked, Dyomie slipped on a loose piece of rubble, slamming into a car. The engine flap was open. Though Dyomie herself was nothing like Ren girl she still knew enough to know when a car would be easy to fix, by someone else. This car wasn't one of those cars. The engine was far beyond repair, but it did give her an idea. She looked down the street, there were plenty of abandoned cars among here and there must be some that Ren girl could fix up for everyone. You could say that Dyomie was getting a bit cabin-feverish with staying in the metro, it wasn't safe to stay in the city anymore and now everyone who was hurt were starting to heal up. They could get out of here.

She pulled herself up when her walkie-talkie started making noises. It hadn't been her idea to share the wave-length with Natasha and her lover boy, that wavelength had just been for her and Marie alone, but Natasha was so insistent that Marie crumbled under.

"Hey, Dyomie, I need you to come back to the over turned car, help me keep watch," it was Blondie.

"Yeah, I'm comin', it'll just take a little while. I'm in the city right now scrounging up supplies. I'll be back in a few," Dyomie said into the walkie. She began her trek back to the metro, her leg still slightly hurting but nothing unbearable. As she walked she passed a couple pockets with a few straggling walkers. With her skill of sneaking around and with her being by herself at the moment, it wasn't hard to get past these pockets without being noticed. Even the few times she had been noticed by the walkers she was close enough to a fence, or something of the like, that she could just climb over easily. The trek back was pretty uneventful and fairly routine.

Dyomie came back, her bag pretty empty, but with some extra supplies. Dyomie saw Jack up ahead with a small group, they must be going on a supplies run themselves. Dyomie waved to them in order to signal that she wasn't a walker.

"Where are you guys off to, Superman?" Dyomie asked Jack. His nickname came by when she first saw his tattoos and his ability to ignore pain. Honestly she knew it wasn't that creative, but her nicknames weren't supposed to be creative, it was just something that she did on the fly so she called people whatever first came to her mind.

"Just to get some supplies sweetheart," Jack answered back, sending a wink her way.

Dyomie's hand flew to her heart dramatically, "Sweetheart? Why I do believe that the budding roses of romance are startin' to bloom," She said in a stereotypical Southern bell accent.

"Well I'm certain we can start something," Jack said. She could feel Nathan's steady gaze on them, he was one in the group that Dyomie could live without. He didn't do a whole lot except bitch about Jack and judge her, as far as she could tell anway.

Dyomie just smiled and flipped Jack off at his comment, "Ren girl, when you get back I want to talk to you, I'll be on watch," she said to Schantz as she passed by. When Dyomie got inside she started to walk towards her and Marie's make-shift 'room', if you could even call it that. A quick drop off for her bag, before heading back towards the flipped over train car. On the way there she ran into a George, a bit of a smaller man, but anyone who could help would be great.

"Hey Watson, I'm going to need your help later today moving some cars to the entrance. I was thinking we could fix them up and get out of here if you want to help, what do you say?" Dyomie asked, crossing her arms and slumping to one hip. His nickname was more because he looked like the character Watson from the BBC show Sherlock, a show that Marie forced her to watch many times.

"Is that a command?" George asked incredulously, "Besides my name is George not Watson."

"You tell me if that was a command or not," Dyomie said, at this point she knew that George was an irritable drunk, but cars weren't going to move themselves and she knew she wouldn't be able to do it by herself.

"Bring it up with the group later, I'm too tired of this shit," he said walking away. Dyomie clicked her tongue a little before turning and heading to the watch point.

She saw Natasha before the cop saw her, as was her way with cops in the past, "Hey Blondie!" Dyomie called to her, climbing up onto the the overturned train, "Any fun news while I was out? What do you want to talk about?" Dyomie sat on the edge of the train, her scoped rifle that she had brought with her from her apartment laying across her lap.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes

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Natasha Dean
Natasha stood with her back to the train car and watched the entrance vigilantly, her gun ready in her hand and her mind trained as a shot to kill. When she heard Dyomie call, she spun around with her gun aimed at the train, not expecting Dyomie to be on top of the car. "Fuck you! She let out a light laugh at her skittishness. "You scared me there, no wonder you were never caught." She gave her a smile, hoping the joke wouldn't insult Dyomie. "Joking aside, I wanted to talk to you about this group... and the guns." Natasha leant on the wall of the tunnel and looked up to Dyomie.

"You've lived your entire life without needing help from anyone, trusting very few and that's what I need you for. You've lived this long on your own because the few you've trusted have been the right few, or so I'm assuming. You know how to deduce people and who to trust and who not to trust, I know you mightn't trust me ass much, but I trust you." Natasha admitted, her speech a difficult one for her to muster. "And I don't trust easy, just ask Phillip. But I need you to tell me who you trust and who you don't, whether or not I should share the guns or even lead the group to the station, if it's still standing, and provide the group with enough munitions."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes

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Dyomie Thornes

"I got to be as good as I am by not trusting anyone," Dyomie said, "All my partners I would never let them be in charge of the money, probably as much as they trusted me, I was smarter than they were." She kicked the bag of guns, "Let's keep this to ourselves still. Besides they have enough guns. As for taking them to the station, that's your call because you'll be the one leading them there."

Dyomie leaned her gun against her shoulder and watched the entrance. The part she hated about doing the watching was that it was very boring. There weren't typically walkers who came around and if there were they were easy enough to take out. No hostile people either. Most of the time Dyomie just kind of felt like she could not watch at all and it wouldn't make any difference. Really the only reason she did take the watch every now and then was because scouting out further and gathering got kind of old after a while and their honestly wasn't anything to do. It was hard for her to just sit still like this, watch other's backs and be in a community. She was used to planning almost constantly, a new heist she was preparing for, planning every single detail with back up plans, contacting the right people, pulling off the heist, and then starting over. She actually rarely ever sat still and if she did it was with Marie and they would typically go do something fun like amusement parks or clubbing since Dyomie wasn't around very often, when she was it became a party. Then after hanging out with her sister she would look at banks, museums, etc. and see if there was anything new and fun to steal. She had the entire country as a possibility of where and what to steal; it seemed pretty endless. That is until everything could be stolen by anyone with absolutely no chase or having to worry about security. Someone could literally just walk into a store and take everything. Plus everything that was worth stealing before; gold, diamonds, and ancient artifacts were completely useless now, actually to rephrase, completely worthless.

In short, this made Dyomie rather depressed, but mostly bored.

"Hey question," Dyomie said, not looking towards Natasha, "How was it that you guys did end up finding me? After all this time, what was my slip-up?" This question had been playing heavily on Dyomie's mind since that first day the cops showed up at their door and the world literally ended. What had she missed? What did she forget to do? What did she forget to plan on? Slip up weren't something that Dyomie knew had to deal with because she hadn't slipped up since she was a teenager, so she hadn't really had practice on how to deal with a mistake being her fault. If it was someone else it was simple, you let them take the downfall whether that be going to jail or get killed, but she never knew what to do if it was her that made the mistake.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Dean Character Portrait: Dyomie Thornes Character Portrait: Phillip Wilson (NPC) Character Portrait: Lillian "Lily" Strong (NPC) Character Portrait: Wayne Williams (NPC) Character Portrait: Rafiq Chedidi Character Portrait: Tara Schantz (NPC) Character Portrait: Jessica Abbott (NPC) Character Portrait: Samuel Abbott (NPC) Character Portrait: Annabelle Mae McCallister (NPC) Character Portrait: George Remington (NPC) Character Portrait: Lisa Pazzino (NPC) Character Portrait: Althea Brown

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= George Remington =
% Jessica Abbott %

There had been hazy nights before. Mornings where he still woke up in a drunken stupor. But whatever this was transcended all past transgressions. George rolled to one side, clutching his swollen face in agony. He gazed at his bloodied palms through watery and swollen eyes, the rest of his surroundings catching up to him in a blur. The sting of the cold stone subway platform still clung to his skin, even as he righted himself -- dust falling off of him like somebody shaking out and old rug.

His vision focused more and more with each slow blink of the eyes. But nothing around him made any more sense still. Two blurry figures stood atop an overturned Metro train, firing careful shots into undead stragglers running rampant across the platform -- pouring into the tunnel from the streets above. Dead bodies fell limply to the ground as bullets found their targets time and time again.

George struggled to his feet, wobbling a bit as he regained his balance. He felt around his body with his hands, trying to assess what kind of bodily harm he had succumbed to -- but honestly, his entire body ached.

A stranger's face ran past in a blur, offering him nothing but a passing glance as the woman hopped the tracks, disappearing behind the train. George rubbed his eyes, trying to get his mind back into focus, but everything was just a daze.

"That's him right there!" a familiar voice called out from behind him. He spun around, nearly losing his step -- but Jessica caught him by the arm before he had a chance to fall. "Help me get him out of here," she shouted to the blonde haired woman next to her. The wide-eyed woman grabbed George's other arm and started ushering him across the tracks as Natasha and Dyomie emptied their clips into the wave of walkers rushing into the tunnel.

Schantz limped close behind the rest as they retreated toward the commons. "C'mon, you two!" she shouted to the girls on the train as she hobbled across the tracks. "This place is done for!"

Natasha cast a sideways glance at Dyomie who just kept firing away. She shrugged back at Schantz. "Go on! We'll hold the fort!" she called back with a wave. Schantz knew it was bullshit, but she wasn't in a position to argue. They might be suicidal, but at least they had guns.

* * *

"Over this way," Althea shouted -- waving the beam of her flashlight back and forth at them. The hail of gunfire drummed in the background, further down the halls behind them. Jessica and Lisa pulled George's limp frame through the doorway and rolled him onto the ground -- unconscious once more. Schantz followed last, closing the door behind her as she braced herself against the frame weakly.

Rafiq came rushing up from the small crowd. "What-- is that all of you?" he asked, worriedly. "Who are these people?" Lisa and Althea looked at the group of strangers surrounding them, not a familiar face in sight -- save for Tara's.

"Oh, Rafiq!" Jessica cried out, pulling him in tightly for a hug. "We were so worried about you and Molly... we thought--" She looked around the crowd, her spirits fading fast as she realized whose face was missing. She looked back at him, crushed. "Oh, Rafiq..." she said, sadly.

"What happened to George?" Lillian asked, kneeling down to inspect him.

Tara looked at Jessica and the others. "It's a, uh-- long story, kid."

"What about the rest? Marie just left to go find her sister and Natasha! They're still out there!" Phillip protested.

Tara cut him off, sharply. "All our friends are out there. If they aren't here now, they ain't comin'. You didn't see what we saw." She wiped some of the blood from her nose with the back of her sleeve with a sniffle and went to sit down.

"We're not just leaving them out there," Phillip demanded, moving for the door. Jessica reached for him as he forced his way out the door, but it was too late.

"We can't keep spitting up like this!" Wayne shouted. "We have to stay together. We're stronger that way."

Rafiq nodded, shutting the door behind Phillip. "He's right. We can't keep running off like this. If this is who we have, then we have to leave before more of those walkers get down here."

Jessica chimed in, rolling up her sleeves. "Where did you pack my blueprints?" she asked, walking over to a nearby table. Rafiq ran over to a roughly organized pile of bags and backpacks and fished one out of the back. He unzipped it, puling out several blue sheets and laying them out flat. Jessica squinted her eyes, tracing her finger across familiar angles and notations. "This room here... that's us," she began. "Since the main entrance is full of walkers, that means Platforms A and B are completely compromised. But-- the service tunnels should lead us back to the street." She bit her lip as she roamed further down the blueprint. "It would let us out right on Santa Monica boulevard."

"You think that's far enough away from all this?" Wayne asked, unsuredly.

"We have to hope so," Jessica replied, brushing her hair out of her face. "We can leave out the back as soon as we're ready."

"And the others?" Annabelle asked, somberly. "Phillip is right. They might need our help."

"We're no good to them here," Tara mumbled. "We've got the kids... injured... sick..." she gestured at Annabelle, "old."

"And not enough weapons either," Rafiq admitted, trying to help reason. He reached into his pocket and fished out the note he had been working on. "Look, I started writing a note... for whoever comes in here after us. We'll write down directions and leave it here on the table under the lamp for them to find."

Tara shrugged. "It's the least we can do, I guess."

"Let's get to it then, folks. Grab what you can," Rafiq said, rubbing his hands together. "And somebody wake George up..."