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A World's End

post-apocalyptic earth

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a part of A World's End, by Asperser.

Post Apocalyptic Earth is where everything begins. It is where your character was born and raised until the time they heard the bell. This is a place absent of magical or supernatural powers. And as far as your character remember this is how the world has always looked, barren and dead.

Asperser holds sovereignty over post-apocalyptic earth, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

498 readers have been here.

Setting

Post Apocalyptic Earth is where everything begins. It is where your character was born and raised until the time they heard the bell. This is a place absent of magical or supernatural powers. And as far as your character remember this is how the world has always looked, barren and dead.
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post-apocalyptic earth

Post Apocalyptic Earth is where everything begins. It is where your character was born and raised until the time they heard the bell. This is a place absent of magical or supernatural powers. And as far as your character remember this is how the world has always looked, barren and dead.

Minimap

post-apocalyptic earth is a part of A World's End.

10 Characters Here

Flo [1] Life is a melody, short and sweet.
Felix Gid [0] An artistic and critical marksman, with an unoptomistic mind-set towards the creative arts.
Logan Trive [0] Why would you want to be normal? Being abnormal just makes you that much stronger.
Faustus Rammsteiner [0] Chaos, Neutral, what could be more fun?
Peter Feower [0] A tinkerer and mechanist from the underground town of Steampunk
Alexandria Franz [0] The optimistic swordsman who would rather make friends than fight.
Michael Mourneheim [0] The promise of redemption was meant to be broken, for it has't fulfiled it's duty the day it was made.
Charles Crane [0] Scavenger turned Fighter
Sayuri "Blue" Sakura [0] "Blue Sakura", a delicate flower that's more dangerous than she appears.
Faolan Ciaran [0] A young man with Irish heritage, on his way to power and glory.

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#, as written by X-07
It is a long walk across the scorched earth. With each step forward it feels as if you have made no progress at all. While the nights were next to freezing, the days felt as if you could catch on fire at any moment. It had only been a few hours since sunrise and Charles had already drank most of his water. It was stupid of him and he admitted it, but it would be better to dehydrate later than sooner. However, unless he could get a hold of some more water, that later will come much sooner. Minutes passed by but to Charles they felt like hours, suddenly he saw something in the distance that gave him hope. Without missing a beat, he broke into a run.

He finally got near enough to the building to read the sign that hung above it. Quickstop the sign read. At one point in the past, this was a place that sold off necessities for the same prices as luxuries and the people of the past paid for them without hesitation. Someone living in the end times would call those people foolish, but Charles didnt have time to question the motives of the past. He walked in and almost fell to his knees at the sight in front of him. This gas station was almost untouched, there was food on the shelves and almost directly across the store from Charles was a fridge full of water. He sprinted across the floor and swung open the fridge, of course without power the water was warm, but that didnt bother Charles one bit. He grabbed a bottle at random and ripped it open. He swilled a small taste in his mouth to see if it tasted off, the water was perfect. He chugged down the rest of the bottle and began grabbing others and placing them in a bag.

He carried a huge smile on his face when the bag was filled to the brim with water, all he needed now was a larger jug so he could pour the water into that and be less encumbered in his travels. His smiled disappeared when he heard the sound of a shotgun pump behind him. "Drop the bag and turn around slowly." a voice said behind him. Charles did as he was told and turned around. He saw an old man holding up a rusted shotgun to his face. "All I wanted was some water" Charles pointed out. "I didnt mean to take from your supply." The old man lowered the shotgun a bit but not completely. "All of you damn scavenger rats are the same. You think youre entitled to everything, now get the hell out of here before I give you a third eye socket." Charles kept his hands raised as he exited the building and walked away thirstier than before.

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"Ugh.... I thought the world would look nicer than this.. It seemed so nice in those paintings back at home, with the green grass and nice trees. Too bad something made it like this, but like mother said all the time, enjoy what you have, not what you don't." Alexandria was quietly talking to herself as she slowly walked through the nearly completely empty streets of a random city she had been passing through, her boots making a soft thudding sound with each step while her sword was tightly tied to her hip in case someone tried to attack her, it had happened several times already while she was walking around like she was now.

She looked down at herself for a second, her clothing was starting to get dirty now that she had been walking for a good six hours, so stopping somewhere to rest would be a nice idea. "I have a bad feeling that if I stop somewhere I'm going to get attacked... So I better keep going until I feel like it's safe." Once again, Alexandria was talking to herself, formulating a little plan for the day and readying herself to follow this plan as well as she could, at least until she could find some place that was safe anyway... At the moment the area didn't seem safe at all, she could even hear the shuffling of feet, that suggested that people were nearby and either hiding in their little makeshift houses until the stranger left, or it was a group of assailants waiting for the perfect moment to attack someone who was all on their own without any kind of help available. Alexandria hopped it was the former, as there was less to worry about then.

Further walking lead Alexandria out of the city and down a long stretch of road, it seemed like just walking down that road would be fruitless if she didn't have anything to eat or drink on the way. Regardless of the recently thought of fact, Alexandria had faith that there would be a few people along the way who would be living in and running the places where people in the past would stop and purchase food and drink, if they were decent people, she would be able to get a little bit to last her for the rest of her journey... Following a single bell could be an annoying task even at the best of times. I really hope that this bell leads to giving me and everyone else in the world a much better life, so long as the stories are true. But I will find out if that is true or not when I finally get to it.

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"Have faith, boyo... For the time of your reckoning is at hand, and from here to Fiddler's Green, you shall forever rest in my heart and soul. Until I die, of course. Then we're both screwed, eh?" The cracked hands held the Blacksmithing hammer tight in their grip. It had been some time before Faolan even heard another living creature's cry or call. Now he stood over the cowering, cornered rat-like creature with a crazed expression about his face. the hammer swung swiftly and ended the creature's life by way of crushed skull. It was a meagre meal, but if Faolan was to survive, something else needed to die. It had always worked that way, and so it was.

"Perhaps, if the stories are true, I'll change all that. When I find whatever power is at the source of these feckin' bells... Maybe then I'll find some way to magic food from air, like one of those... What-are-they-called's... Alchemists. Yeah. Them." The evening wind swept through the patches of dried grass and craggy rocks like a ghost. Leaving barely a trace of it's passing save the gentle sway and lean of the taller grass stalks. The Irishman sat back against the inside of the night's chosen cave and made the most of his pathetic meal. The next morning would bring nothing but more bleak sky, craggy rocks, dead lands, and empty ruins. He knew this, but what else could he do? He had already tried ignoring the call once and it ended up with his being dumped on a Sanctuary. The only thing left to do now was slog forward. So he would curl up in a ball, shed a few tears for the fallen, and fall asleep in his temporary domicile.

The light of the sun shone harshly through the bleak clouds that hung like vultures in the grey sky. Faolan made ready to move under the tireless gaze of that single, glowing point that blotted out the millions upon billions of others that would otherwise shine in the sky. The greedy sun blotted out their own light to shine the brightest. Running it's harsh, cruel regime of forced will upon their dust ball of a planet for millions of years.

"Maybe I'll fix that, too... Damned sun." Faolan mumbled to himself as he hopped over a small chasm. It was still early in the morning, and the last thing any sane person would expect to find would be another city, "There it is though..." he mumbled his thoughts aloud. Immediately dropping to a crouch and moving cautiously, he peeked over a low, poor excuse for a bush. Slowly his hammer made it's way into his right hand, still covered in dried blood from last night's meal. He held it toward the tool's head, to off-balance it and made it easier to move with. There was definitely some kind of recent activity in there. He could pick out spots where barrels burned with refuse, and windows were freshly boarded up. He wasn't much one for socialization back home, but out for so long with no contact whatsoever he was rather starved for it. That isn't to say he was dumb enough to go leaping into the city with arms thrown high shouting at people for attention. It did, however seep poisonous, dangerous thoughts of hope that he could find converastion down there. Company to spend the night with and people to interact with outside of sword, stick, or fist. Such fleeting hopes could get him into serious trouble, possibly killed. But he allowed them for now. no sense depriving yourself of some hope every now and again...

At least that was what he reasoned with himself as he made his way down the rocky slope toward the ruined city.

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#, as written by X-07
As he continued east, Charles noticed dark clouds brewing in the distance. Rain, people around here seemed to love it when it rained. Charles couldn't understand why people loved it so much, of course in the short run it was nice, it was cool, refreshing, and it could provide a small water supply for a day or two. But no one seemed to think about the long term effects like humidity and mosquitoes. Perhaps it was just the simple things in life that kept people happy, although in times like these, there was no such thing as bliss, no matter how ignorant you were. Either way, Charles needed to find shelter quickly as spending time in the rain would only warrant a cold, and that was something very few people could afford.

He eventually came upon a large, one story building, St. Antonio's Elementary the letters hanging on the wall read, the twin doors creaked as Charles stepped inside the dusty building. His heavy footsteps echoes across the empty halls as he looked from room to room, desks toppled over, chalkboards filled with lesson plans that will never be taught, but the one thing that made Charles waiver, the one thing that stood out in this whole building, was a coat rack. On this rack were several small little coats and jackets, winter clothes that will never be worn. No one can really say who is to blame for the world ending up the way it has, but whoever is to blame has no justification for taking innocent lives. The water began to fall outside, the raindrops were quite loud hitting the roof and walls of this empty building.

Charles huddled himself up in the corner of the room, letting the rainfall outside lull him into sleep. He let his thoughts wander around and found himself coming back to the coats. Life in this time was not fair, he would be the first to admit that, but at the very least he and the others living this life have a chance. The owners of these jackets never had a chance, it was taken from them without even allowing them a possibility of fighting back. Some people blame God for the current condition of the world, at this moment Charles denied that claim. A god could never be merciless enough to do such a thing, this was indeed the work of a devil.

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#, as written by zewei
'Breath in... breath out... breath in... breath out.... Now.'

The twang of a bowstring was heard, followed by a large squeal of an iguana and the sound of the lizard's body dropping to the floor.
Masi grinned victoriously as he ran to his kill, instantly picking it up by the arrow that was shot into it. The lizard was no larger then his hand, but it contained valuable meat, meat that he can take and consume, once cooked. He looked up at the sky, worried that one of those accursed shadow birds would swoop down, stealing his kill before he could bring it back home.
A stinging pain instantly jolted him into his senses, and he looked down at his hand, cursing the lizard that dare bit into his flesh. With a cry out outrage, he took another arrow from his back and stabbed it directly into the creature's neck, killing it instantly. His breath was ragged, harsh as he pried the jaws open, looking at the two small puncture wounds in his hand in worry.

"Shit, there's blood now." Masi said to himself and would run thru the swampy forest, his form darting in between dead trees, taking a route that he was far familiar with, having traveled his home for all his life. He avoided the puddles of water, circling around them as his footsteps were silent, muffled by the countless dead leaves that were on the forest floor. He was obvious of the dangers in the forest, blood is a sign of weakness, his father used to say. Blood attracts predators, but it is not the predators that is to be worried, it is the disease in the water, along with the giant flies that would be attracted by it's scent.

He thanked his birth sign under the stars that he met neither predator nor flies, and the sight of his stone and cement hut was a welcome change to him. He quickly opened the door and hurriedly closed it again, disabling the arrow trap that he had set earlier before leaving. He entered then, throwing the dead lizard on the table as he secured the door by pushing the table against it. The hut was a small one, having only four rooms, but it was enough for him. The walls were unpainted, and many cracks can be seen on the cement. Plants grew in boxes, near a small window, where his father had once purchased fertile soil in the market from.
It was here where Masi rushed towards, quickly plucking a few leaves and throwing them into his mouth. He chewed, the bitter taste making his cheeks shrink, and soon, spat the paste onto his wound. Wrapping it up with a bandage, he sighed, finally resting as he laid down on the floor.
"Sixth injury this month." he said, shaking his head before picking himself up. Night would come soon, and he needs to be prepared. He looked at a section of the hut, where the roof had partially collapsed, and checked the remaining rainwater that he had gathered. he still had half a pot left. That would be enough for two days. Taking the pouch from his side, he emptied what water he took from a dirty stream onto a series of cloth, a filter system where a pot was laid to catch whatever water he could obtain.

He pondered back to his life, as he took a piece of firewood to start a fire, cooking the lizard that he had killed. It had been 4 years since his father had died. Since his mother had moved out, and was never seen again. 4 years of living in total solitude, a life that he was forced to grow accustomed to. It was evening, and the small insects, noisy as they are but yet near impossible to find would start to sing, creating the forest melody that he learned to enjoy.

Yet, this evening was special, for the sounds of a bell, giant in size, rang out loud and clear. Once. Twice.

Masi frowned as he heard the unusual sound. "So, it's that time of the year again."
When his mother and father used to be alive, they speak of stories, and of the legend of the bell. Those who follow the sound are taken to a faraway place, a paradise where life and death do not exist, to a time when the world was rich and vibrant with life. One amongst thousands who make it to this place is then chosen to become god.
So why don't they all go follow the bell? He used to ask.
His father would laugh, telling Masi that all is not what it seem, for if it was true, then why isn't the world a better place? It is but a hollow dream, and that he is content with the life that he has, with his son and mother.

That was before the tragic accident, and before his death. Masi could recall that every single year, without fail, the bell would toil out. But yet, the reason of why eluded him. His thoughts turmoil within himself, considering the life of what safety he has now, and the life of an unknown.
In the end, only one thought made his mind up.
"Be it death or godhood that awaits me... I shall seek my father in death."

His desire born, his spirit awakened, he ate his meal in silence and proceeded to pack. A leather pouch to hold items, a water container filled to the brim with odd tasting, but safe rain water. A quiver of arrows, his wooden bow and bowstring, a skinning knife. His clothes, no need for spares... and a brown woolen fisherman hat. A quiver of arrows, in a quick count, held 20 in total. Twenty two after he had cleaned his recently used arrows.

He's ready now. 4 years of isolation, and he's ready. Yet, as he turned to leave, a feeling of great hesitance filled him. He's forgetting something... For reasons even he was not sure, he carved a message on the table for the future inhabitants of the hut with his knife, ending it with Masi was here.
Perhaps that's it... he felt better now, after leaving a mark on humanity before he died. Masi left his home, and never looked back.

"The bell ran out from the south east, and to the south east, i shall go."
In the night, a pale figure would work his way thru the swampy forest for the last time, as crows sang their parting song to him.

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It fell, from it's mothers hand, a lone disobidient child plumets through the air. Twirling incessantly, it saw the world before it clear as crystal. It saw the green mold that crept up the porous concrete, it saw the dry land that held no life. It saw the shadows shifting among the ruins, it saw smoke rising from the generator. It saw the past, it will see it's future. And now, it saw it's destination... and touched it, it did.



Michael stirred as a singlet droplet of water struck his eyelids, shutting them tightly as he felt the cold sting.

"..." His eyes fluttered open to see grey clouds gathering past the metal square, high above where even the looming skycrapers could not reach. The damp air brought out the odour of the cushions, while it was not overpowering he was still thankful that he had the insight to rest his head on the steering wheel through that night.

"It's ..." He held out a hand and opened his palm.

"...raining? Of all the -keh, times now." He moaned groggily, choking on abit of his phlegm. His sleep was less than peaceful and it has been that way for the past few days, if it wasn't rain then it was a depraved scavenger, if not then a rabid dog. Too bad the vehicle had rusted beyond repair, otherwise he would have driven off to somewhere better. Maybe where that damned bell was, save himself alot of trouble.

-------------


Michael sighed, letting out a long breath of exasperation. But it was just as well, since he was up he might as well look around for something useful. He did stop by to restock afterall and since the place had a large amounts of ruins he could probably pilfer something or two, hopefully get a can of preserved food or a decent weapon.

Stepping out he could see the gloomy establishment of what seemed to be a school, what was left of it anyway. God knows what’s in there …And as precuatiom, Michael dusted his gloved fingers with a coarse grey substance before entering unknown territory.

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Alexandria saw something that was definitely a common sight along the larger roads as she walked, it was a little store that was bound to be someone else's home now. But just because someone lived there it didn't mean that they would instantly attack her if she headed for the building, plus now it was raining, which was but one of the numerous things that put a stint in someone's day. So, with the first store in sight, Alexandria advanced in a brisk walk to get into the store and out of the rain.

Then she saw something not many people want to see when they just get out of the rain, a shotgun pointed right at her face.

"What're you doing in here?" The man who spoke was old and didn't seem to happy today.

"I was just getting out of the rain, sir." Saying sir after speaking seemed to surprise the man, apparently respect was a rare occurrence nowadays.

"That better be all you're doing, some punk came in here and tried to take all me water.. 'Course, he was more than compliant to leave after I put my trusty gun to his face. Damn scavengers can't find their own damned water, this is mine because I was here first, you understand?"

"I understand, sir. But I do not intend to take your water, I'm heading elsewhere when I can." Alexandria was relieved to see that the gun was lowered down to the man's side, at least now it wasn't going to take her face off anyway. Without a doubt, Alexandria could have asked if he would really shoot a young woman, but that's not the sort of thing many care about any more, morals no longer had so many restraints for most. "But the whole idea of I got here first is a somewhat immature way to treat situations in which a commodity is included, despite the fact that he was just taking it without even asking."

"That's just silly, girl, if someone's stealing from my stash of water they don't even deserve to get any if they ask the second time, if he'd asked I might've let him take some, but he didn't so I put a gun to his face." The man chuckled as he now lowered his shotgun fully and noticeably eyed her. "If you're not going anywhere important, you could keep this old man company so long as you know how to do as you're told, especially if you keep up all that sir stuff, if you get what I mean."

That suggestion somewhat disgusted Alexandria, so she wasn't going to play along with it at all. "I'm sorry that you got the wrong idea by me being polite, but I would rather be out in the rain than have to play servant for a lecherous old man." She didn't say anything else, mainly because he pointed his gun at her again.

"Then get out you little tart, if you played along then I would have let you take some water before I got bored with you being here. Now get out of here before I shoot."

"Some people lack manners, how disappointing..." She mumbled, but instead of leaving, she took a step forward and drew her sword, it was almost perfectly clean, unlike the man's shotgun and it definitely looked sharp. It's sharpness was proven when she swung it down into his firing shoulder and made him drop his gun while his shoulder bled heavily. "Manners get you far, sir. But a sharp sword gets you that little bit further. I'm sorry to have to do this, but it is justice for refusing to share such a valuable thing with others." She whispered into his ear before stabbing him through the chest.

Now that the old man was dead, not to say he wasn't going to die soon anyway, Alexandria dragged his body out of the shop and allowed whatever wildlife was out there to have a meal while she started gathering together as much water as she could before she would move on, getting enough water to fill a duffel bag she found sitting in the corner of the room, then she made sure it sat right on her shoulder before she sat on the counter of this store and waited for the rain to stop. "I hate people who lack manners."

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#, as written by Fisk
A ringing, that of a harmonious yet dissident sound, which hung quietly in the air. Its presence was obvious, but quickly worked itself into the background when not focused upon. On top of it all, it was a note Felix did not even believe was possible to hit, almost otherworldly. He could not hum it, nor could he pull a string on a violin to hit such a note, as there was not a note that even resembled it... Yet for one so foreign, it rang so beautifully. Almost promenading in the arid wastes of what was home, he strutted across the ripped-up earth in an almost gliding fashion. The bells cheered him up whenever they were clear, feeling a necessity to find the source. Leaving a tar pit he had extracted from seventeen packs of cigarettes, Felix began to wonder if the chemicals other than tar would have been passed through that bird he cooked...

"Well I guess it's lucky enough that someone had left them out there! I may have just gone hungry this morning if some poor fellow hadn't left his smokes on the ground!"

Felix stopped walking and looked back at the pit. Considering it for as second, he disregarded how stupid it probably was, and collected as much of the tar as he could into an empty ink jar. Thinking it would make for some questionably effective artistry, he figured it was best not to let it go to waste. The tar now stuck greedily to the thick sides of the jar, emitting a rather foul odor from the uncovered jar. Shoving it in a holster in his belt, he shoved it in upright and continued his walk.

The empty wastelands of Felix's former home did not seem to end, and the hole from the sewers that he had emerged from did not feel any farther than it did an hour ago. The bells may have been beautiful, but life be damned if it wasn't far.

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#, as written by X-07
Charles woke up feeling extremely well, he couldn't explain it, but he felt that somewhere, someone got exactly what they deserved. He looked outside of the window and noticed that it was still raining, seeing no point in going out quite yet he pulled out his last can of beans and began to eat heartily. He continued to watch the outside world for about an hour, "Looks like this rain isn't going to let up anytime soon." he told himself out loud. He had to get moving, everyone knew the bells only rang once a year, but no one knew exactly how long one had to find the source. With that thought in mind he stood up, raised his hood over his head, and walked out into the rain.

The rain seemed to have picked up as Charles walked along the road, each drop felt heavier than the last. Eventually he came across of seemed to be the remains of an old suburban neighborhood. On each side of the road were identical houses, each becoming more ruined than the last. Charles couldn't help but wonder what kind of people were content with living with such normality and dullness, but on the other hand his life of constant excitement wasn't something someone would envy either. As he walked he had a strange feeling of dread coming upon him, but he quickly shook it off. The rain let up for a split second, and in that moment of quietness, Charles heard a crunch behind him. Before he could turn however, everything went black.

The strike itself was quick, and Charles able to recover his wits within seconds, but the pain was beyond excruciating. He found himself lying in the mud with two people laughing above him. One walked in front of him into his view holding a 2x4. "Daaaaamn, Louie." the man said "This guy can really take a hit, he's still awake." Charles tried to get up, but quickly found a boot to his ribs and he toppled over onto his back. "Nah, hes just a big boy is all." The second man said squatting down looking Charles in he face. "Yeah, if we ration this one right, we can eat for more than a week." he said with a sadistic smile. "OH! Lets use that new thing on him!" the first said excitedly.

"That is actually a good idea." the second man responded,"Let him get up and leave the board with him, I want to have some fun before I bleed him." The two men walked away and Charles took the opportunity to get up and look around. The two men were standing directly in front of him with a long object wrapped in cloth. The first man noticed Charles and tossed him the board. "Lets see if you can go longer than the others, boy." he said with a smile. The other man unwrapped the cloth and pulled out a massive sword. It was long enough to go from Charles' head to his knees. "Yeah, this'll work out real nice." He held the weapon in front of him and faced Charles. Charles knew that he had to either act, or die. He observed his enemy as well as he could, he was of average height, but very thin. The man's hands shook violently as he held the large weapon. It's too heavy for him Charles thought to himself with a smile. Compared to the light board in his hand, the man's swings would be wide and slow. The man trudged towards Charles and brought the sword up for a downward strike. Charles responded quickly by swinging the board upwards and striking the man directly in the chin. He followed up with a strike to the gut, and as the man reeled forward, Charles hit him right on the back. The man dropped the large sword and fell to his knees. Charles walked up to him, gently placed the board against the side of his head, grabbed the board with both hands, wound up, and hit the man one last time.

As the man laid motionless on the floor, Charles leaned over and picked up the sword. It was heavy, but no heavier than the chunks of metal that he was used to hauling around. He was even able to hold it up with one hand. He looked over at the first man who initially struck him, a pure look of horror on his face. "He gave me a reason to do it." Charles told him after spitting out blood. "Don't give me one for you." The man gave no response, instead he turned around and ran off. Charles simply rested the claymore upon his shoulder and continued his way east.

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Warren had only walked for a few minutes unaware of where he was going, the last thing he remembered was the sound of a bell in the distance. He had heard the stories, but always doubted them. It was never his intention to follow after legends or anything he could not understand, but he had been facing ever growing competition and hostility lately and he knew that it was only going to get worse. Almost hypnotised he walked across the plains he referred to as hell, normally he would avoid these places, but now it didn't seem to matter as he walked straight through them just following the sound in the distance.

A sudden sound in the distance that he knew too well shook him from this hypnotic walk. It was a good reminder that he was still in the same place as where he had left, the sound of gunfire in the distance ment that there was trouble brewing and trouble is not a thing that Warren wanted at the moment. He only wanted to follow the sound hoping to find a better place or at least get somewhere where you didn't have to worry about idiots with guns. Warren walked on hoping to get wherever he was going soon and hopefully without coming across any of those gunslingers.

After a long walk without any sort of rest a small building rose from the horizon, Warren realised that this place was probably the only place with shadow in a wide area and walked towards it. As he came closer he saw a bicycle with tires made for sand and dirt, it could be a sign of a resident, but it seemed that this was just an abandoned building. Warren walked inside and he was lucky as the building indeed was empty, the only things left were a table and a damaged bed. He lied down on the bed for some rest, at least untill the sun was setting.

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Logan sighed. It was another hard day at work. But he enjoyed it because it meant he was helping people. He began to walk hoping he would find some place to take shelter. He tightened his grip around his bat and began to think that perhaps he should've taken something better. He was sure his father wouldn't have missed one sword anyway. But, it was to late to worry abut that now. He realized that while he was distracted in his thoughts, another shadow had appeared following him. He sighed and turned around saying "Listen, I don't have anything of value on me, and even if I did I wouldn't give it up to you." When he actually looked behind himself though, there was no one. He turned back around being greatly confused and saw that there were now many shadows around his. He quickly turned back around and yet, there was still no one. He looked at the ground and found that his shadow was now completely alone. Just when he thought things couldn't get any weirder, he noticed a house on the horizon. He ran to it, finding out that it was empty, and decided to take refuge. He laid down in the bed and began to sleep. Unfortunately, his dreams were plagued by the sound of a bell ringing over, and over again. He awoke with a start and found that the ringing was real, and he had passed out in the middle of nowhere. But, he could still hear that bell, and if the stories from his childhood were true, then he had to follow it. Because that bell, would lead to his ultimate desires.

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The rain was continuing to pour down as Alexandria sat on the counter watching it fall past the window before her, the fact that she had been waiting a while now for the rain to stop was evidence enough that it wouldn't stop for a while. So instead of waiting any longer, she hopped off of the counter and left the little road-side store, taking of in a sprinting pace down the road.

Obviously the many bottles of water now in a bag on her back would slow her down, so she had to pace herself if she didn't want to collapse in the middle of the road, meaning she had to take short breaks where she would just walk further before she felt she could run again. "I better give some of this water to people when I pass them by, show them that there are people who are happy to give them things they might need, especially clean, contained water like this." She said to herself quietly as she walked further.

After a long time of walking and running, Alexandria noted that she had passed by a one-story building that she had seen was a school just by peeking in through a window, she had already trespassed on one person's territory today, repeating that wouldn't be beneficial so she headed on past that to find herself in a small neighbourhood. This neighbourhood was more modern in terms of building quality and external looks compared to her little settlement's housing, every building was identical to the last besides a few minor details, such as a lawn decoration or something like that in front of the house.

Then a familiar sound reached her ears, the sound of fighting. When she heard this she went quiet and moved into a dark hiding spot and watched as one man with only a plank of wood easily beat down another man with a large sword in his hands. "This is why you choose a light sword over a heavy one... otherwise your attacks are slow and easily readable." She quietly mumbled as one of the two who had attacked this guy ran off in the direction she had come from while the first man she had spotted, the one with the plank, took the large sword and left, heading east.

While wondering why the man had taken the large sword, despite looking like he couldn't properly handle it, Alexandria slowly stood up and followed after him.

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The rain began to die down into a light drizzle as Charles continued to walk. He held his new weapon in front of him admiring its detail. Why did he pick it up? It was heavy, cumbersome, and he sure as hell didn't know how to use it. There was just something about it that made him feel as if he had to hold on to it. He swung it around trying to get a feel for it, it wasn't as fast as a knife, but it had some power behind it, whoever was hit by this thing wasn't going to get up anytime soon. Plus the length of the weapon could keep opponents at a distance should he ever find himself in a defensive position. Either way he wasn't going to figure it out anytime soon.

He walked for a few more feet before giving in to the need to rest. He stabbed his new sword into the ground and sat up against a nearby tree. He ran out of food, there was no way around this fact. But a determined human could last up to two weeks without eating. Water, on the other hand, was going to be an issue. Charles couldn't afford to dehydrate, not when he still did not know whether he was even near his destination. He cupped his hands under the branches of the tree and allowed the rain water to collect. He took a huge drink, taking advantage of the water at his disposal. He lowered his hands and let out a sigh. "You know you're not that subtle." he yelled out loud to what seemed to be no one. "You have an extremely bad habit of thinking out loud."

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Flo awoke to the sound of thunder and howling winds. She got up, her eyes wide open, worried that her mother was still outside. The shadowy silhouette of a woman in the corner of the room, a brown haired boy in her arms, put her anxiety to rest. She gave a sigh of relief before wrapping herself back under the dirt smudged sheets. Flo often had nightmares of the day when she’d wake up to find her mother and brother dead, cold and stale from the rain. Better that she die first. At least she’d be saved the pain of living alone for another five years.

Flo shivered beneath the sheets as rain drops dripped down from the ceiling. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a good night’s sleep. Her mother used to tell her that when she was younger they used to live in a big house with seven bedrooms somewhere in the mountains. She’d had long stopped believing in those stories, but that never stopped her from wishing they were true. Flo took out a small music box, the size of her finger, from her pocket and cranked up the switch on the end. It chimed a lonely tune and occasionally skipped a note as it played.

Father used to play the song on the flute, but now that he was gone this was all she had left to get to sleep at night. There was a faint ringing noise in the background as the little box continued to play. It was the bells again. Even now they called to her. But she couldn’t go, wouldn’t go, not if it meant leaving her family. Her mother was sick, her brother hardly fit to hunt for himself. It pained her to think about abandoning them for a better life. Had they not cared for her when she was ill and at death’s bed? No, she was determined to stay here as long as she could. But, something about the bells that seemed oddly familiar. She couldn’t put a finger on it. It was almost as if they were trying to tell her something.

The notes seemed to rise and sway with each passing drop and as the rain intensified so did the bells. It was harmonious and free without a hint of care or worry. Its melody reverberated through the walls and there was a sense that everything would be alright in the end. No matter what happened. Warmth, love, was there a word to describe this feeling? Was this why so many followed it? Even to their deaths?

Flo tossed and turned underneath her sheets, struggling against the urge to get up, to follow the sound wherever it may be. She covered her ears with her hands and tried to block it out, but it was no use. Frantic, she reached for her music box and pulled it close to her ear to drown out the bells like she’d done so many nights before. Like a charm, the mechanized clicks of the box subdued the sounds, until they were but muffled notes amongst the rain. Flo took a deep breath as the warm feelings subsided and the world returned back to its dismal state. But as the bell struck its last note so did her music box and her face turned pale white. They were exactly the same.

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"FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Faust screamed to the bright heavens for the hundreth time in the last two hours. He brought his fists down to his side, clenched tightly ready to strangle the first living creature that crossed his path. He was breathing heavy as he walked, his chest rising and falling like a war drum as he marched to battle. He was fuming, His pale skin red from anger, or maybe it was just the sun. He put his hand up to shade his eyes as he stopped walking. He tried to see out as far as he could, searching for something.

How could he have been so freaking stupid!? Why oh why did he leave his fucking bag? Oh sure he could come up with plenty of excuses, but they were all for nothing. He needed to squeeze through the doorway; oh and a bag with just a few supplies couldn't follow him? Well, there wasn't anyone following him; mhmm...so who the hell took the bag!? He growled to himself as he threw his hand down again in defeat. He couldn't find any trace of whomever had robbed him. Up and vanished like a fart on the wind.

Well, nothing more to do now but continue on. He took one last look on the horizon and turned back around, sighing as he did. He was now without supplies, without water, without a weapon...without the lovely cat jerky he had prepared not two days ago!!!! Now all he had to call his own was the clothes on his back, he was gonna have to pull some heavy luck out of his ass if he hoped to make it even halfway to wherever he was going....Where was he going? Oh yes....A bell. He was following a bell that he hadn't heard from in quite awhile. He really didn't even know why he was following it. It was like an tch was in the back of his mind, an itch he couldn't scratch till he got there, wherever there was.

God he was thirsty. First on the to-do list, procure some more supplies.

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"Blood flows in and out, up and around. Through the body, out of the body. It made no difference to blood. Blood was a free thing. Blood was sacred. Blood could do what blood pleased. And blood wanted to flow. So flow it did. Like rivers, rains, oceans and lakes, the blood flowed off mountain-tops like melting ice, dripped from ceilings and rooftops, and ran down the gutters. Everywhere you went there was blood. But it's not the kind of blood in you or me, no... It's the blood of fate... Of the higher power.... Or powers, if you're that kind of person." The rythmic pounding of the blacksmith hammer on the plate of metal kept Faolan focused while he talked to his 'companions',

"Blood and fate. Entertwined. One and the same. Don't you see?" He asked, suddenly stopping and staring down the wooden plank carved with eyes and a mouth, "Don't you see...?" He went back to work and after an hour or so had finished. He held up the piece of metal, beautiful and polished, slightly curved, but perfectly even all around. Faolan frowned,

"It's rubbish. But it'll have to do." he said to the wood plank again. Faolan took the metal and fastened it with some cloth strips to his jacket, wearing it like armor. He picked up his supplies and began walking through the town he had found. It had small buildings, no taller than four stories. Obviously when it was still in use, it wasn't very big anyway. A suburb maybe. Faolan trudged through the alleys, walking by rusted out garbage cans and broken windows. Trash and refuse littered the gutters along with the occasional human skull. It was all Faolan could do to think about nothing more than wanting to crush in the skulls in the gutters. He didn't know them, but he was sure they'd died such terrible deaths. Worthless deaths. but he would change that. He would. He began collecting skulls. Keeping them on a cloth rope he tied around his chest until he had a total of seven. They rattled and banged against each other, but he kept them. Talked to them. Tried to figure out their stories. How had they died? Why? When? Where? Surely they must be runoff from a rain or something. All these thoughts were prominent in his mind up until the point where he heard the footsteps...

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"Blood flows in and out, up and around. Through the body, out of the body. It made no difference to blood. Blood was a free thing. Blood was sacred. Blood could do what blood pleased. And blood wanted to flow. So flow it did. Like rivers, rains, oceans and lakes, the blood flowed off mountain-tops like melting ice, dripped from ceilings and rooftops, and ran down the gutters. Everywhere you went there was blood. But it's not the kind of blood in you or me, no... It's the blood of fate... Of the higher power.... Or powers, if you're that kind of person." The rythmic pounding of the blacksmith hammer on the plate of metal kept Faolan focused while he talked to his 'companions',

"Blood and fate. Intertwined. One and the same. Don't you see?" He asked, suddenly stopping and staring down the wooden plank carved with eyes and a mouth, "Don't you see...?" He went back to work and after an hour or so had finished. He held up the piece of metal, beautiful and polished, slightly curved, but perfectly even all around. Faolan frowned,

"It's rubbish. But it'll have to do." he said to the wood plank again. Faolan took the metal and fastened it with some cloth strips to his jacket, wearing it like armor. He picked up his supplies and began walking through the town he had found. It had small buildings, no taller than four stories. Obviously when it was still in use, it wasn't very big anyway. A suburb maybe. Faolan trudged through the alleys, walking by rusted out garbage cans and broken windows. Trash and refuse littered the gutters along with the occasional human skull. It was all Faolan could do to think about nothing more than wanting to crush in the skulls in the gutters. He didn't know them, but he was sure they'd died such terrible deaths. Worthless deaths. but he would change that. He would. He began collecting skulls. Keeping them on a cloth rope he tied around his chest until he had a total of seven. They rattled and banged against each other, but he kept them. Talked to them. Tried to figure out their stories. How had they died? Why? When? Where? Surely they must be runoff from a rain or something. All these thoughts were prominent in his mind up until the point where he heard the footsteps...

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#, as written by X-07
Charles slowly woke up as light shone into his eyes. Something just quite wasnt right. The air felt, warm, not blazing hot, and not freezing cold, just a nice warmness. He opened his eyes to find that he was nowhere near the ruins of the old city. In fact, this was nowhere near any form of civilization at all. He was sitting up against some type of palm tree facing an ocean. At first he was stunned at the sight in front of him, but his attitude quickly changed to concern for his own safety as he realized that he had no idea how he got there. He stood up and found that he had no physical wounds on himself but he couldnt shake the feeling that something was different about him. Shrugging it off he took off his jacket, in this type of environment it would only do more harm than good. Food, water, and shelter, these became his new concerns, if the wastes taught him anything it was that survival was much more important than answers.

He wrapped his jacket around the base of the tree and used it to help himself shimmy up. As he reached the top he looked around and tried to get a hold of his surroundings. The island seemed stereotypical, a lot of green with a few hills in the distance. There was a small clearing in what Charles assumed was the middle of the island. That was something worth checking out. He also saw something odd about the hill closest to him, it seemed darker than the others, as if a lone cloud was hanging above it. If anything that spot might be cooler than the rest of the island. Another thing that caught Charles off guard was the silence, where were the animals? If the old books were to be believed an island such of this should have an abundance of wildlife. Before he climbed down the tree, Charles tried to make a mental map of his immediate surroundings, this was more than difficult as the sun hung directly above him which didnt allow him to know which way was which. East? West? There was no way to find out at this time.

First things first though, he needed to find some water. There was nothing around the island to indicate any real source of water, but the trees around here had to stay green somehow. His best hope was that clearing in the distance. He needed to map out the island to not get lost though, with this in mind he decided to try out a technique he picked up from another scavenger. Find something between you and your destination that you know youll be able to find without getting lost. Charles searched and found a fallen tree about two hundred paces from his position. That was as good a start as any. He slowly climbed down the tree and wrapped his jacket around his waist. As lame as this looked he needed his jacket but he couldnt afford to wear it.

As he took his first few steps he tripped and stumbled over something in the sand. He looked down and saw the large sword he picked up back in the wastes. He picked it up and took it along with him, it was heavy and it would tire him out, but there was a reason there werent any animals around, and he had to be sure he was ready in case he ever found out.

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#, as written by Fisk
The inky darkness of unconsciousness gave way to a blurry rising. Palm trees towered high above Felix's head, as sand invaded his clothing when he moved. Taking a second to recuperate, he only just noticed that he didn't remember being knocked out. The grains of sand inched their way into the fabrics of his clothing, leaving a deep scent of sea incense. Staggering up, Felix checked for his belongings. Fortunately, his crossbow was still strapped to his back, as was all of his art supplies. It only took a few seconds for him to notice the out-stretched and vast sea.

Oh hell no.

Taking a few cautionary steps backwards, Felix inched away from the sea as though it were about to turn volatile and attack him. Occasionally brushing against the odd palm tree, he kept a watchful eye on the water before turning tail and running. Food did not matter, nor did shelter or companionship. The irrational though constant fear of water surged all through his body, welling up and pumping adrenaline. All that mattered was that he was a safe distance from that water, and only then would he care about commodities. Gravity decided to disagree with Felix's ideals however, a shrub quickly pulling his center of gravity towards the now earthen floor. Small grains of sand fell from his hair prior to falling, and thus were vacuumed up into his nostrils, causing him to sneeze profusely. Sitting up now, he rubbed his knee caps where they were bruised.

"I suppose that's a good distance..." Felix reflected. No longer able to ignore the rumbling of his stomach, he stumbled off farther into the trees in search of some form of nourishment, that didn't require going near the sea. Due to the uneven terrain, his legs were staggered and off-beat, often times causing him to stumble and trip. Looking up, he found that there were coconuts growing in the palm trees. Taking a small stone from the ground, he unfastened his crossbow from his back. Aiming for the small area of contact between the coconuts and the tree, Felix held his breath.
The crossbow fired, making a satisfying thwacking sound. As the stone made contact with the bunched up fruits, three of them fell in front of his feet. Taking a pencil from his pocket, he attempted to jab the coconut, but to no avail. Cursing under his breath, Felix quickly discovered that he lacked the proper tools to split open the coconut without spilling the precious liquids. Frantically heeding the command of his stomach, he searched for help in desperation.

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As he walked, Charles could hear yelling in the distance. It gave him a pause for thought as human interaction would be more than welcome in this lonely environment. But no, he had to continue on, if he were to find other people without any water then two people would be screwed rather than one. If he found a source of water, no he couldn't think like that, when he finds a source of water, then he can set up some kind of camp and from there he can start going around the island looking for other people. In the end this island wasn't much different than the wastes, one of the most valuable commodities is in fact a necessity.

The wind blew lightly rustling the highest branches of the trees above him, mixed in with each footstep he created and a Charles was able to walk at an incredible pace with the rhythm. After a few minutes the dark hill came into his view, it didn't obstruct his path in any way but it seemed to force its presence to Charles. He took a single step towards it but he stopped himself, he needed to find water, then he needed to worry about food and finding those other people. He spent the entirety of his life in the end times learning to use common sense, he couldn't let the fact that he was in a different environment change his attitudes. Curiosity can be fed after his stomach was.

The hill kept calling to him as he walked though, the lumbering giant kept Charles in his gaze almost begging Charles to turn around. He fought his urges to comply and ended up frustrating himself. Deciding that now would be a good time to sit and rest Charles sat up against a different tree and tried to see if there were any landmarks in his view. Other than the hill, there was nothing to indicate that he was on any specific point on the island. With a deep sigh he picked up the large sword and began to admire the beauty. If left to his assumptions, it was made out of solid steel, there was no wear nor rust on it, in fact there was nothing to indicate that it had been used before at all. The blade itself had a sheen to it, as if it had been recently polished, Charles could clearly see his own reflection on it. From his 5 o'clock shadow to his two brown eyes, along with a smudge on his right cheek. He wiped his hand over it to clean it off, but it stayed right where it was. Annoyed, he pulled the reflection closer to see what it was. The sight almost horrified him, on his face were three separate numbers, 3-7-5. "Oh crap," he whispered to himself, "Ive been tagged." he dropped the sword and began to worry outloud. "I swear to God, if I see three red dots on my chest, Im just going to put myself down."

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Logan took the coat from Angel. "Well, if this is what you want me to use." He began to gather coconuts in the jacket. He picked them up one at a time, starting from where he had taken his first few, and made sure that there were no cracks in them. He was just about to head down towards the water when he heard the roar. It sounded extremely close. He shuddered to think of what could possibly be lurking in the jungle. He continued to pick up the coconuts and put them into the jacket when he realized that Angel was alone in the jungle. Which meant that thing could've gotten her. He began to run towards the cliff and tied off the end of the jacket around a belt loop on his jeans. He climbed slowly upwards, and when he finally made it placed the jacket under a tree and ran off towards the jungle. She happened to be the only friend he had made in a long time. He ran deeper and deeper into the jungle before he stopped to realized he had run right past her. He turned back around and ran back towards her, noticing there was someone new as well. "Angel! I heard the roar! everything okay?" he said as he began approaching. He looked at the newcomer. "Hey there, name's Logan" he said putting his hand out.

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#, as written by Fisk
Felix gulped as Warren left his company with those words. By no means was he about to go back to the beach unwillingly, but it was now a question of needs over irrational fears. Now noticing that since Warren would be gone, it would be difficult to find his way back if he were to get distracted by... anything specific during his trip for survival. Taking his jar of Tar Ink, he took a very thin brush and dipped it in the still rather liquid tar. Splattering it across the ground in a line, one could follow the line to his current destination, or back to this spot. Taking a few steps, he did not want to waste his ink, so he moved until he could barely see the line, and splattered ink again. Thankful for it's viscosity, Felix was now artfully arranging the ink as he walked so that it would make the most interesting of abstract characters, though they would still point in both directions.
If you've ever had fun playing with the cake batter at home with a spoon, you'll know how he felt.

Upon viewing the tip of a wave that had just recently crashed onto the beach, Felix instantly felt fear well up into his lungs. Staggering his breathing, it was evident that therapy was required. Turning away from the sea so as to calm his nerves, he eyed the tree tops for coconuts. Untying his scarf, he laid it down as flat as possible underneath the richest tree. Fortunately, this tree was warped forwards in an attempt to grab more sun, so Felix simply had to step up onto the "butt" of the tree and edge his way to the coconuts. Knocking them down one by one, the outwardly disgusting little balls of hair fell happily towards the awaiting strip of cloth below, and he began to pluck the leaves off of the top of the tree.With a handful of giant leaves, as Felix prepared to jump down, he noticed the number "664" on his left ankle. At first, he was thankful it did not say "666", but then was awash with a feeling of dread. If he was numbered, than for what purpose was it like this?

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Traveling through the vegetation was not easy, as Danielle soon found out. It was a lot simpler in theory. 'Head forwards toward one point in the distance, gather flammable materials, head back the opposite way.' "Ouch!" A branch hit her on the forehead. "Where did that come from?" She continued walking, slower this time and taking care to pay more attention to her environment. Hearing a loud roar, she flinched and tried to move faster. For the most part, the vegetation was not that tall, aside from a few trees here and there. Some had obviously unripe fruit like the ones she was carrying, while others had more strangely colored ones too high up for her to reach. She cursed her height. Even after seeing the odd flowers here and there did nothing to improve her mood.

After struggling through the dense vegetation, she also started cursing her Swiss Army knife. "Why can't this be a sword or even a butcher knife. Argh!" All the green around her started to make her feel uncomfortable. The village she grew up in help little in form of plant life and seeing so much color was starting to make her head hurt. She squashed the urge to throw a tantrum. 'That won't help a bit,' she scolded herself. 'But it might make you feel better.' She squashed that voice too. 'I don't need any hallucinations right now thanks!' Lifting her left hand to wipe away the thin trail of blood from the cut on her head, she noticed the number on her arm glowing slightly. She blinked, then rubbed her eyes with her palms when the glow didn't disappear. Closing her eyes again, she took several deep breaths. 'Okay, I'm probably just seeing weird stuff because I'm hungry. Focus on the real things. The sun is cooking my head, my hair has sand and who knows what else in it, the cut stings, there's some rustling from my right...' Her eyebrows drew together as she processed that last part once again. 'Rustling? And it's not going away either? Is there someone else in this place?' Cheering up at the possibility of company, she forgot all about the strange glow and started to brush her way though the plants towards the sounds.

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Logan was slightly afraid of the man that stood before him. He seemed as though he was trying to read what they were going to do next, almost like he thought they were going to kill him. He watched the newcomer (who called himself Faustus) carfully. He had acted as though Logan's hand was covered in disease. When Faustus commented on learning not to trust people easily Logan could have sworn he heard a bit of ferocity in his voice, but since Faustus seemed just as frightened of him, perhaps he hadn't meant it. Logan replied to Angel first, "I gathered everything I could. It's back there, on top of the hill" he pointed in the direction he came from. He turned back to Faustus at that point and said, "where I come from it's the same thing. Most people believe it's eat or be eaten; but I don't. I think we can only make it through by working together, otherwise what else do we have?" He sighed thinking to himself that no matter what he said to this guy, there would be animosity. This destroyed world got into your head in that way, it forced you to fear everyone and everything around you. Thoughts of that place made him wonder however, how in the world had he ended up here? He remembered getting up after passing out, but then what? He had tried to find shelter; and that was all he could remember. "We need a fire, and a shelter. Once there, I think we all need to have a serious discussion. I want to know more about the two of you if we're going to be stuck here together. Besides, we need to have a plan if we want to survive." He waited for any sort of response before he went to go and fin something to feed a fire with.