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Allison Nonelle

"Sometimes, I feel like a part of me died. I wonder why I even go on. But, I guess, I just want to help one person. Just one person. If I can do that, then I can allow myself the relief death would bring."

0 · 374 views · located in Area 2

a character in “Blindsight”, as played by Zander

Description

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~~~
Age: Nineteen, almost twenty.
Gender: Female
~~~

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If one thing can be said about Allison, it's this: she's a total sweetheart. You'd have to be a completely heartless asshole of a bastard to dislike her. You see, she isn't one of those annoying, cloying girls that are so sickeningly nice they seem fake. No, she's actually a cool person. That's not all, though. She's also very complicated. A very complicated sweetheart. Don't try too hard to wrap your head around her. It probably wouldn't work out too well for you. She seems contradictory. She would do anything to help a person in need, as she has this sort of super-empathy ability that allows her to emphasize with anyone. Literally, anyone. She could sit down and understand a serial killer, for Christ's sake. Hell--she tried to talk to a zombie, once. One of those slow ones. She concluded they were pretty stupid; probably incapable of intelligent thought. Well, at first. But that story's for later.

ImageShe honestly tries her best not to hate anyone, but... she knows that's an unrealistic goal. Allison abhors injustice, and selfishness. You betray those around you, and she finds out about it, god help you. She will chew you out. She'd never harm a soul, in theory, unless someone's life depended on it. Then she would kill without hesitation. She's one of those no-shit types. Very logical, realistic, not one to sugar coat things. She will tell you exactly what she thinks--despite the occasional brutality of her bluntness. She does this thing, though, where she smooths it over with encouragement after. Unless she really hates you. Then you just get caustic honesty.

This girl is probably the most passive aggressive person on the planet. She'll utilize her utter sweetness, sarcasm, childish tricks, you name it. Don't put it past her to dye your hair hot pink or tie-dye your skin. That being said, she is a very mature and level headed person. She's also stubborn as hell. She will never back down if she believes in something. She hates losing, and if someone were to outwit her... oh, god. She'd hate it more than death itself. No joke. Those people that try to manipulate others, oh--she has fun with those people. Even if she agrees with whatever they want to accomplish, she'd never submit to them. And she'd do everything she could to ruin their schemes.

Ironically, she is something of a mad scientist herself. She does manipulate people. But it's usually manipulating the problem individuals to not be problems, or calming some hysterical person. That's about the only time she'd outright lie. If some kid was freaking out about dying, and she knew they were going to die, she'd lie to comfort them. Not the lame "Oh, you'll be alright" lie. No, she'd really make them believe it. She's a simply fantastic liar. But she rarely lies... she's too sweet. As a contradiction, though, she can be very bad at hiding her emotions. I'm talking really bad--to say she's an open book is an understatement, regarding her emotions. She can appear calm, collected, all that--but her inner feelings show through. You just have to look for it, and not be so caught up in your own problems you don't see it. She'll always say she's okay, though. She'll always play the strong one. Nothing makes her feel worse than people worrying about her. Well,, except being outwitted. She would lay down her life for a stranger, and she can be almost idiotically reckless at times. Supposedly fearless when she needs to be. She's also a loner. 100% introverted leave-me-alone-in-a-corner type of girl. She hates crowds and isn't a big fan of people. Yet she has this desire to help them. It's weird.

She's great at organizing things and is very dependable. She'll get the job done. She's usually very humble and timid, unless infuriated, but somehow people tend to listen to her. She has the authority of police officer in a disaster. That collected tranquility in disaster that just draws people to her. So, she's a leader by nature. Even though she never wanted that title, she accepts it, because others don't do a good enough job and it's a good way to help people. She's very whimsical and artistic, too. Cute, in a nerdy way. Sometimes her comebacks are lame--simply because she has to say something, having no comeback means the opponent won--but she plays it off like it's super witty and that can be an amusing sight. Nothing's more amusing than a flustered Allison. If you get her to blush, it's really noticeable as she's so pale. I could go on and on, but you really should just meet her for yourself.


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Super Empathy

Allison can emphasize and sympathize with practically anyone. Granted, she isn't one to pity people, but she can genuinely understand where they're coming from and provide whatever needed in whatever situation. She can almost always tell what someone if feeling, it can be so strong it's like she feels it herself. It's like a sixth sense. This ability allows her to save those deemed unsavable, and it groups her with the outcasts no one likes. People flock to her because she knows exactly what to say or do to calm people down. She knows how to make people happy. It has gotten her out of a few... unlucky situations. No one wants a psychopath endangering the group.


Diabolical Planning and Wittiness

Another thing about Allison--she really is a mad scientist. One reason people look to her for leadership is the fact she's great at organizing, categorizing, and planning crazily brilliant schemes. These schemes might involve creating a hierarchy-styled colony, crazy systems for getting needed supplies, systems for distributing supplies, or a cut-throat plan to escape invading zombies or looters. Really, who knows what her plans will involve. But, sometimes all you can do is stare at her. They can be a little over-complicated at times.

Evasive Maneuvers

No, this has nothing to do with physical ability. In fact, she's so uncoordinated, it's laughable. This girl couldn't run to save her life. Ironic, but true. You know how they say, in event of being chased by a bear, you only have to run faster than 1 other person? Well, she's that person. Everyone escapes, and she can't run from anything. She can't fight her way out of anything. She has no physical strength. So, what is this evasiveness? Well, it goes like this. When needed, she is a very smooth talker. She can talk her way out of almost anything. Honestly, the girl should've been a con-artist. Oh wait--she was! Ha. Long story. This also applies to literal evasion, as she can hide like champion. She can stay completely motionless and silent for quite awhile. It helps with the stupid zombies. Then, when coupled with her diabolical plans, she can pull of crazy stunts to evade things. It makes up for her P.E. failure.

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So, you want to know what I've been doing with my life, hm? What life? God, I don't even want to talk about it... I... I can't talk about it.

Alright, alright... I'm sorry. I'll do my best, but don't expect much. This isn’t life, it’s death. Doom. Destruction. Go find a thesaurus and look up every possible synonym, and it still won’t describe this justly. I guess it all started with a walk to the hospital. I was always a frequent visitor there. I knew all the nurses by name, and a lot of the patients. I wouldn't really say they knew me; I mean, I've always sort of lived a lie. I had to. It's just how life turned out.

My dad was a con artist, alright? There. I said it. It doesn't really make that big of a difference now, anyway. His sorry ass is quite dead. I'm getting ahead of myself, though. I was visiting the hospital with my dad to see my little brother, Damon. He was a cute kid. Brown hair, freckles, green eyes. A little insane and always energetic. God, I… he was a great brother. My entire reason for existing.

ImageWe had already lost mom a long time ago. I won’t tell you how, because it isn’t in the time frame. It was forever ago. I was going to see Damon; the nurses said he wasn’t doing good. He had leukemia… and, I guess… it was finally taking its toll. Long story short, he… he, um… d-died. I was too busy crying to notice all the new patients, all the people acting strange. Even the doctors and nurses were acting strange. I vaguely remember his nurse, Katelyn, telling me about an epidemic going around. Some virus. I didn’t really hear her… how could I? My entire world had just come to an end.

Well, my dad, he didn’t cry. I know he had to be upset—but not that much. He left to go back to work, and told me to report back home in two hours. He had forced me to con for the last few years. People never expected something like that to come from someone like me. I was trustable, and he exploited that. So, anyway, he left. But, 15 minutes later, he came running back. Everyone was screaming. Zombies! Zombies! OH MY GO—. I actually heard people get eaten. The sound of blood squishing and splashing, bones snapping, brains spilling out to the floor. I’ll never forget it, not for the rest of my life.

It was hard, but I left my brother’s corpse. They ate it. I saw them eat it through the glass—I had climbed out the window. My dad, instead f following me in my “suicide scheme” decided to hatch his own plan. The bastard shot himself. It just goes to show you, some people can’t think logically in bad situations. It really bothered me, never being able to bury my brother. I could care less about my dad, we never liked each other, but Damon… I couldn’t even bury him.

I watched until there was nothing left of him. The vultures devoured him mercilessly. After that, I climbed over to a dark room and entered through the window. There were people there. Alive people—not infected ones. They were mostly children, sick like Damon was. They didn’t have anyone, so I got them out. It was hard, but I managed. We survived for a few weeks.

Then, I failed them. They were counting on me, and I let them die. All those people… gone. I don’t know how I could be so stupid. And, to make it worse, I lived. I even tried to live. I’m such a lowly person. It’s… I’m ashamed. I’ll never forget their screams.

You may be wondering how I lived. Well, the kid that tried to eat me, he was really slow. No—actually, he was quite fast, but he was pretending to be slow. The little devil wasn’t even a zombie! He was pretending, to trick the monsters. He told me the whole story. It was his only chance, after he lost his parents. I told him I’d help him.

Slight problem, though. He eventually got the plague—as I call it. I tried to help him control it, just like I tried to reform the slower zombies. (Okay, I tried talking to 3. Don’t follow my lead, and never try it on a fast one. God… just stay away.) I think it helped, he only tried to eat me a couple times. And, I actually found his parents. We all parted ways, then, and I haven’t seen him since. He was a little redheaded boy, Leon. I wish I could say it all worked out…but, um… I’m actually pretty sure he ate his baby sister, and I think he lost complete control. I’m such a failure. Next zombie I see, I should just kill. Too many have died. Hell, like I could actually kill a person…

I just, I can’t keep talking about this. All you need to know is I’m staying alone, now. I’m not failing anyone else. If I die, so be it, but I don’t see myself joining another group or helping anyone else. I can’t fail another person. Oh—god. Who am I kidding? I’m… I’m really sorry if this was all over the place. It’s really hard, I’ve been strong for others so long… I haven’t even truly cried over my… Damon’s… you know… I’m sorry, I can’t… goodbye.

So begins...

Allison Nonelle's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins
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A wrote frantically as his mind tried to process everything he was discovering. It was unbelievable, unthinkable but in all honesty, it made sense in some sick way. Paradome couldn't be the monolithic corporation it was today without harboring untold secrets and the like. A clenched his fists, his train of thought momentarily lost as he internally punished himself for helping Paradome. But then he breathed deeply and reasoned within for what seemed like the hundredth time "Paradome has everyone fooled." He sighed angrily.

A shook his head and removed his glasses, bringing his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose as a headache began to set in, then fear, then anger again, then a sense of hopelessness. A had to right these wrongs, he did the snooping, he found out what they were up to, and he took it upon himself to stop them. Paradome will pay that is A's mantra for now. Feeling the momentary headache subside, A put his glasses back on and continued his search back into Paradome's hidden files.

It was only ten minutes later A was able to crack back into Paradome's systems but what he found horrified him. Absolutely nothing was there. Their entire system was wiped, everything from the scandalous to the mundane was wiped clean and A could only guess moved to a different server. "Fuck you." he grunted at his screen as he frantically began to put all his skills to use looking for what he needed to publicly out Paradome... An hour went by and nothing.

A was losing hope. He had literally discovered the biggest global scandal the world would likely ever see and everything he had to stop what was happening was suddenly gone. They must have found out someone was in their system. A panicked for a moment, would they find out who hacked them? But then he calmed down, probably not... A had stolen Paradome's founder's identification so his hacking couldn't be traced back to anyone but the man who knew all about what was happening... It wouldn't be long before Mr. Wh--e changed his details. That meant A was going to need to move fast right now to find the information he needs before his simple identification theft is ripped for underneath him and he'll have to start breaking into their systems more carefully.

Days passed and A had lost his easy access to Paradome's inside. His demotion also meant his access through the entire corporation was reduced to not much more than the ability to open locked doors. Unfortunately for Paradome A had already found ways to bypass their securities and he was still searching their servers and databases for all the information he'd found, but nothing was coming up yet.

It wasn't until two weeks after A learned the truth that he found at least a little of what he was looking for. It was the solid information he needed, but it was, for lack of better words, a sort of map that would lead him to the truth again... A was left stranded and even more stunted than he was before when he learned where the truth was sitting... All he needed, every bit of information A needed to bring Paradome down was stored onto other devices, devices however that were stuck within the American Quarantine zone.

A cursed a loud at the sudden realisation that all hope was lost. He had no physical way of getting what he needed, and if he couldn't get the external drives and data Paradome had within the quarantine zone, they were going to get away with it. But it was only a few hours after A had begun to lose hope when he hatched another plan...

Logging back onto Paradome's surveillance network A was able to use the CCTV camera's that were dispersed among the streets and insides of the buildings all through the quarantine zone. From there A found and tracked various survivors who had managed to remain alive over the past three months. He worked fast, using cross-referencing networks, identification databases and more, A was able to contact and learn the names of all the survivors he'd managed to successfully contact. There were enough of them to ensure A that together he and the survivors could stop Paradome and he could rescue them.

Within the american quarantine zone A was able to find survivors scattered throughout the two zone areas, 1 & 2. Getting a hold of the survivors within the city was easier than those in Area 2. The suburbs were definitely quieter than the city... But the streets were perhaps more terrifying when A was able to see the bigger variety of infected that roamed the seemingly perfect streets of Lassidus countryside and suburbia. But A eventually was able to contact survivors there. It was probably mostly luck on his part that for some reason Paradome was still letting the internet and electricity run through the quarantine zone... Though he suspected it was largely a show for the unaffected parts of the world... Paradome was pretending to contact people on the inside. "What a farce" A commented to himself as he watched their reports.

When A managed to get a hold of the area 2 survivors, he directed them to the local police station in the outer suburbs. Bordering the countryside, A was confident they were less likely to run into huge hordes of infected there. Oddly enough Paradome still had CCTV camera's this far out of Lassidus, but it was probably a good thing in hindsight because A could watch as area 2's survivors made it the police station there and after they had become acquainted after a few minutes, he piggybacked the phone lines into the quarantine zone and was able to call the phone at the reception desk in the police station. As one of the survivors answered, A began to, without hesitation tell them what exactly they were getting into.

The setting changes from Area 2 to Quarantine Zone - America

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins
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#, as written by Zander
OOC: And, I forgot to hit the Area 2 button. Darn. I'll do that next time, bear with me.

“No one really understands, do they? Everyone always thinks they’ll be such a badass when disaster strikes. They daydream about stopping the gunman that enters a school building; they imagine fighting when everyone else cowers. They imagine being the god-damn hero. Everyone always wants to be the hero. They think they’ll be cool when disaster strikes. They think they’ll be the savior when Armageddon or apocalypse or whatever the hell you call it comes striding in, head held high like the bastard it is. They think they’ll be the one to stand up to it. That they’ll be the one to put him in his place and save the day.

“Everyone wants to be the fucking hero. They all want to be superman. The badass. The savior. Not for the reward of helping people, but for the high it brings. The eyes looking up to you, the praise, the ego boost. Everything. Everybody wants to be the hero. But, in truth, few actually live up to their fantasies. The ones that are heroes, well, they don’t sit there and fantasize about it. They know that bein’ a hero isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It doesn’t live up to the hype. It isn’t really a high-paying job. Yet it’s the dream job… people just don’t understand, do they? They don’t understand how hard it is. How much responsibility it is. How easy it is to fail. They just…they don’t understand. I don’t even think I understand. Not fully. Hey—are you listening, or are you just gonna sit there and drool?”

“Mmph…grw….hng…grrRAWrGr…”

“I know you’re in there somewhere. Go on, hun, say something.”

The creature only looked up at her, a seemingly exasperated demeanor taking over its rotten features. At least, that’s what it looked like to Allison. Who knows if they could feel anything beyond gluttonous desire, in reality. But, you can’t crush her efforts, right? This small hope at reform was all she had at the moment. Sighing, she leaned back on the roof of the old fire station and listened to the zombie’s vain attempts at reaching her. It was getting smarter, indefinitely, trying new routes to climb up to the roof, but it still failed each and every time. Allison had saw to that with her slicking the side of the building and, if worse comes to worse, with her 5 foot 6 inch long copper pipe. Never underestimate a chick with a stick. It was pretty easy to wap them on the head—maybe knock off an arm or something—if they ever got too close.

“Let’s try something…simpler. What’s your name, hun? I’m Allison,” she paused briefly, waiting for an answer she knew wouldn’t come, “Y’know, you look like a Benjamin to me. Why don’t I call you Ben Franklin? That’s a good name. An intelligent name. And, you always want to be one of the smart ones. The smart ones always cover their assess. It’s much better to be smart than strong.”

Evidently, after nearly two days of trying, the damned thing finally gave up and hobbled off. “Oh, are you leaving?” Called Allison, genuinely sad to have lost her patient. Ben was making some progress, she thought. She was getting several different noises, instead of the usual moans. She got growls, too. That was great process. Maybe the speech part of the brain was starting to re-form neurological connections or something? Maybe…? It was a long shot, but whatever kept the girl sane.

Sitting up, she took a spray can from her bag. There wasn’t anything in her bag, no gun, no food, just a little water, some empty bottles, a few assorted cans, trash, and little devices she rigged up. As much as it went against societal norms, she really did live day-to-day. There was no stockpiling. Everything she stockpiled just got re-gifted to some lost soul. It was what it was. Hell, even cats and stray dogs had joined her entourage in the past. Some still found and followed her every once in a while.

The zombie was still only a few feet away. It was slow, as most her “patients” were. Carefully sitting up on the roof, she sprayed the back of his head with the neon green paint, marking him like all the others she encountered. It didn’t like the gesture, obviously, but was soon on its way half an hour later. Once Ben Franklin had officially left her company, she scanned the surrounding street.

It WAS the fire station, wasn’t it? Hell, it’d be just like her to read it wrong and go to the wrong place and then be completely lost and let the guy down. What a failure, sometimes. Damn it all.

What did that text say? It said to go to a station and wait for a phone call. Well, there’s the first problem. Her phone almost NEVER gets service. So, she should probably be inside by a landline. Then, id all she can recall is the word “station,” there’s a million places she could narrow it down to. Fire station. Train station. Imagination station. One of the six thousand gas stations—god, she hadn’t even thought about gas stations. What was it? Shell? BP? 7-eleven? Kroger, Wal-Mart, or Target? Meijer? There were so many freakin’ gas stations! Then, it could be stationary—so a hallmark store? Isn’t there a central station somewhere? That was it. She was in the wrong place.

Great. Just great. Peachy. Lovely. Fantastic. Oh, damnation. Now she’d have to find this mysterious station. Fuck this scavenger hunt!

~~~


I can’t tell you how long she wandered around for. It was the gas stations she tried first, with no luck—of course, and then she more or less gave up and just walked aimlessly.

Eventually, though, it hit her like a dampened towel. God, did it sting. It was so fucking OBVIOUS. The police station. Obviously. Jeez.

Finally finding her way to the mentioned building, she paused at the doors, listening intently. It was quiet, but she could make out the sound of a door closing inside. A door closing? Closing? If she knew one thing about zombies, it was this: they don’t pick up after themselves. Thus, they do not close doors. They just don’t do it. So, either Ben Franklin gained a few million brain cells or there were people in there. PEOPLE. God, people. Civilians. Individuals. Humanoid creatures that didn’t enjoy devouring flesh. Well…at least, she assumed they didn’t.

Briefly, she considered shifting in reverse and hauling her ass out of there, to avoid contacting more people to disappoint, but she didn’t. Why she didn’t, she’ll never know. But, the zombie-whisperer managed a hand on the cold metallic knob, turning it gingerly like the cap of a 2 liter ready to pop. No—even more careful than that. She made almost no noise as she forced herself into the building, but it wasn’t really an attempt at stealth. Anyone with god-damn eyes would be able to see her. Sure, she wasn’t a rocket scientist—but she knew that much. It was okay, though, right? She was unarmed—well, besides her pipe—obviously not a threat of any kind, if they don’t find her pipe intimidating, and a naturally sweet-looking girl. If these people were sane, it would all be okay.

Don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t worried about her safety. Nope—she was worried about their safety. People do scary, stupid shit when they’re frightened or surprised. Allison didn’t want to be the cause of any stupid moves on their part. Hell, people have accidentally shot themselves and stuff. You never underestimate how pathetically lame humans can be. Never. They’re all idiots, one way or another.

When she did happen to enter n her a-little-too-quiet-manner, it was just in time to catch the end of a sentence.

“—anyone else is coming?”

Deducing the prior part of the inquiry—at least, what she assumed it was—she raised a hand in a motionless wave. There were two younger boys, teenagers…probably underclassmen, and maybe brothers? They looked alike. Then there was an older women sitting on a desk—well, not really older per se, maybe 2 or 3 years older than Allison. Finally, there was a brute looking guy…probably, er…seemingly mimicking Elvis Presley. For not having seen too many individuals this past month, she sure found an interesting lot. Brother Bear, Koda, Glamour, and Elvis; if you want to go by her actual thoughts. Now, the trick was not to call them that to their faces. Good luck with that one, Ally.

Clearing her throat and speaking softly, “Actually, yeah… I didn’t know there were still people alive. It’s been awhile... I guess I’m a little late to the party, then? Sorry,” Offering a sweet smile, but remaining by the door, she watched the cast of this odd reality series with some level of interest and healthy caution. Only a little caution, though—if they didn’t do anything stupid in the first 15 seconds, she could relax. "Uh, did the guy call, or am I in the wrong station again?"

The setting changes from Quarantine Zone - America to Area 2

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins
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A was starting to worry that the survivors had chosen to go their own way when it had been a few days since the first survivor was contacted and no one had even bothered to go to near the police station.. Sure, it was a lot to swallow and a big request to ask of them, but wasn't living and a rescue enough motivation for some? A guessed not. Nevertheless he resided himself back to scanning the CCTV cameras across area 2 as he looked for any signs of life. It wasn't until a few hours later that he heaved a sigh of relief as the two youngest survivors he'd contacted managed to make it the police station and shortly after the burly looking man known as Briar arrived too.

A flicked from the public cameras to the more intimate station cameras and watched as the survivors interacted. It was frustrating not being able to speak to them easily... He was going to have to get the younger boys sat. phone's number so that would allow easy and constant communication, otherwise they were all screwed. But as A watched the young boys first encounter the man Briar, he soon found himself in a state of fear as a standoff ensued. A frantically began to hack the phone line, all the while watching the CCTV footage live stream a potential murder about to happen at the hands of a scared teenager and his brother.

As A frantically connected in with the system he caught the sight of the teacher entering the building and her presence adding to the entire tension he was able to feel from across the screen. But as A was dialing in to the station suddenly he found his connection lost and the CCTV cameras go blank. A all could see was a static screen of nothing whirring silently back at him. "Fuck!" he cursed as he remembered the power in Area 2 was shoddy at best. The power plant that supplied energy to Area 1 was actually outside the quarantine zone, but because Lassidus was such a technologically dependent city, they had two massive power plants... and the second one was within area 2 and had been compromised fairly badly, hence the power in area 2 intermittently working across different sections.

All A could do was wait and hope that when the power came back on he was going to see all the current survivors alive and well. He glanced over Area 1 and even monitored it's meeting place for it's survivors, three had made it so far, that was good and they seemed civil at least. A took his glasses off, and nervously bit his lip while he stared at the static screen and nearly jumped in triumph as the power suddenly switched back on and he was able to view the entire station again.

He took a deep breath as he watched the silent drama before him had dissipated and the group in Area 2 seemed to be calm for the moment. Nervous and on edge and even perhaps not trusting one another, but at least they were calm. It also made him more at ease when he finally saw that the last of the survivors had made it to the station. With slight hope in his chest, A quickly went about reestablishing his phone line connection and within moments was ringing the station before any more hostility could unfold.

It was a few short rings before anyone picked up. A could see they were still unsure about their choices, but when one of the survivors picked up his call he wasted no time getting down to business. "Thanks for answering." he said abruptly, "I need you to hit the loud speaker button and we can get started.. there isn't a lot of time and night is coming in the next few hours and you need to be out of that part of the suburbs..." A's voice rushed with urgency as he was put on speakerphone.

"As you've all guessed, I've contacted you all separately, but you all know the same amount of information. I can stress enough that you need to work together. I saw the situation earlier between you and the boys Briar. I also understand that this is stressful enough without you doing what I'm about to ask.. But you're all i've got and i'm all you have...." A's connection cut out for a moment, and he panicked for a moment. "Can.. Can you hear me? Good." A felt the phone become wet from the sweat on his palms... He sighed deeply and took a moment.

"Now listed... I know the boys have a satellite phone, I need you to give me the number. I'll use that to contact you further okay?" A quickly wrote down the number and stuffed it into his pants pocket and then continued with his debrief. "As you know from my earlier contact.. Paradome are behind what's happening to you... I was able to find all this out by getting into their systems, but they've wiped all their secret and private data... But they have back ups within the quarantine zone... Why I'm not 100% sure, but you can bet they'll be doing all they can to get that information back.. and that's where you come in..."

A had to take a moment to breath. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he wasn't more scared than the survivors. "You're in the greater suburbs of Lassidus which puts you closer to their forest facility, which is where you're going to need to go in the long run. But first I need you to go to 1223 Elderidge Street over in West Berridale. I know it's about a two walk over to that suburb, but that house belonged to one of the Lonsdale pharmaceutical facility's chief scientist. I can tell you with confidence if you haven't guessed already that that pharma. facility isn't on the straight and narrow. This guy, Adam Westwood, lived in the big white mansion at 1223. At his house he will have the primary access code to get into the facility.. You're going to need to get to his house and find those codes... I'll contact you when you get there... or if I see anything troubling you need to know about on the way there... you got it?"

A stretched for a moment as he received the all clear and understood by the survivors. "You're going to need one another. No more second guessing ok?" A knew his words might fall flat among them. He couldn't truly expect them to trust one another straight of the bat.. But one could hope. "Also, you really nedd to be careful out in these streets, I know for sure that Para-" A cut out for a moment as the connection jolted, "And if you run into one of those.. It's not going to be pretty... you'll be-" A kept talking all the while, assuming the survivors could hear his warnings, "I'm trying to find out what else they're doing in the entire quarantine zone.. but a lot of what I'm finding out is left over info they've forgotten to delete or what I can see on the CCTV cameras around the quarantine... So just remember... If you're travelling at night.. Try and stick to the parts of the suburbs that have the power at the time.. and when they power goes out.. stay out of the open and-"

"FUCK!" A cursed for the umpteenth time as he watched the cameras cut out. He couldn't see whether or not they completely understood him. He just hoped for his and their sake they did. As flicked through the suburban CCTV cameras he got a far off glimpse of the police station and another pang of hope and determination to keep going filled his chest as he watched the survivors leave. "Alrighty then.." he heaved in relief that they'd understood their first orders, he silently made a note to check in with them in two hours, that should be enough grace time to let them get to West Berridale and Adam Westwood's house.

A then turned his attention back to area 1, it was time they were told what they had to do next...

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Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins
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Haytham didn't notice their fifth compatriot enter until she spoke. He would have reacted, possibly hostilely, his hand easily finding the rifle in his lap, but Max's voice effectively disarmed him.

"Hi!" He returned her wave and smile with equal intensity. "I'm Max. That's Theo—er, Haytham," he said, tilting his head in Haytham's direction. "And that's..." He pointed toward the woman. "... uh... A asked her to come here."

"And that," Haytham—taking Max's favorable judgement of this latest stranger as his own—continued where Max left off, nodding toward the smoking man, "is Ciggy. He smokes because it's still cool," he said with a sarcastic wink. Nothing like a little good humor to make some friends. "If you too got the signal from the guy—A, you should probably come in and close the door. He hasn't call yet tho—"

Suddenly, a phone rang. Haytham and Max first looked toward the source of the noise—an overturned phone in the middle of the room. After identifying the source of the sound, they then looked at each other, then at the others. The boys were quite comfortable where they were, positioned strategically, with their backs to the now-closed alternative exit, facing the only remaining potential threats. It'd be up to one of the others to answer the phone.

After a few short rings, it was picked up. Who picked up the phone paled in comparison to the voice that came from it. "As you've all guessed..." Haytham squinched his eyes involuntarily. That was definitely A's voice. "I saw the situation earlier between you and the boys Briar." Haytham sighed, trying to keep a look of guilt from his face. Maybe he had been a little too quick to judge the guy, this "Briar". He looked sideways at Max, who was staring intently at the phone as if it were A himself. Max was on the ground. The other guy had a gun in his hand. Right. He did had a gun in his hand. Better safe than sorry.

"... I know the boys have a satellite phone, I need you to give me the number. I'll use that to contact you further okay?" Haytham's ears had perked up at the words "wiped," "data," and "backups," but it was the satphone comment that truly piqued his interests. A had contacted them through the satellite-enabled device earlier. Hmm. Haytham pulled the phone from his pocket, tapping the screen a few times. Ah, so that's what happened. Seems their current service provider had finally dropped them. Probably dropped service to all customers (or what remained of their customers) in the Quarantine Zone.

Haytham pursed his lips. He'd expected something like this to happen eventually. Of course Paradome would attempt to tie up any loose ends when it came to potential communications with the outside world; i.e. what they did to the internet around here. Fortunately, Haytham had a contingency: Paradome's own communications network. He'd actually had the chance to connect to it at any time, but held off. If he hooked up to their satellite network and they noticed, they'd effectively be able to track his movements through his phone... but A required some vector with which to contact them.

The pros would hopefully outweigh the potential cons.

"One sec, A," Haytham said just loud enough for his voice to reach the phone, not looking up from his task. He was busy tapping away at the device's touch screen, enabling roaming on Paradome's own satellite array. It wasn't complicated, since he'd already completed most of the heavy lifting back in the panic room. After a few short moments, he recited his new Paradome-issued number. "That's a Paradome number, so you should definitely be able to work with it... probably."

"No more second guessing ok?" Haytham stole a quick peak at Ciggy. We'll see about that. Haytham didn't have long to ponder intragroup politics though, for the conversation had moved on to more pressing issues. Haytham's hackles raised in response to A's message—or what he could comprehend of it. "And if you run into one of those..." Haytham grimaced, his thoughts immediately going to the thing that had smashed its way into his and Max's panic room. He definitely didn't want to encounter one of those. If I'm understanding this properly, he just confirmed that there are multiple... "types" of these things... Haytham chewed on his bottom lip, mind wandering. Could that be what A was talking about, or had he just misunderstood? What about those screaming things that only came out when it was dark? Were they victims of the outbreak too? "If you're travelling at night..." Haytham flinched as if slapped, biting down on his tongue to prevent an outburst. NO! It'd be a cold day in hell before he took Max out onto these streets at night. Never.

A minute later, when it became evident that they had been disconnected from A, Haytham stood, sighing heavily. Max followed suit. "So, we should probably get going, right?" Haytham looked towards the window, folding his arms. The sun was high in the sky. "If we're going to be a team now," he began, looking back at the others, "I for one would rather we not get caught out in the dark."

"Me too," Max agreed, shifting the sachet's strap slightly across his chest, rolling his shoulders. "1223 Elderidge Street... in West Berridale? Cool. My old Airsoft buddy lives around there."

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Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins
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As for what exactly happened or what exactly was said once he'd distanced himself from the two crazy barely-pubescent younglings, Briar did not know, exactly. If he'd cared to, he surely would have paid attention. But as things stood, what they did amongst themselves was not really any of his concern. It interested him what they were speaking of about as much as the five-year-old was interested in CSPAN. Rather than deign to listen to their introductions (or, what he thought were introductions; they could have been discussing the colors of the rainbow, for all he knew), he let his gaze wander about the dilapidated place, trying very hard to keep himself from whistling (he was very self-conscious about his whistling).

After some amount of time (he'd long since lost track- how long had he been in this damn place with these damn people?), a new character entered the scene. He tuned in just a bit to catch a piece of what she was like based on her words. She was a cute little thing, he had to admit, but she seemed pretty awkward. In all honesty, he was surprised she'd managed to make it three months into the end of the world. She looked rather fragile. But, then again, a couple of minors managed to make it. Who was to say some sickeningly-sweet, pretty young lass wasn't able to hold her own? Ah, he didn't believe a word he'd just thought. In any case, as quickly as his interest was piqued, he was once again disinterested with the welcoming and greeting affairs of the other somehow-survivors. He continued to content himself by glancing about at all of the upturned desks and scattered papers and other supplies. It gave Briar a sense of great satisfaction that this place had been wrecked, and wrecked badly. Fucking pigs. Lassidus's fattest. He snickered very quietly to himself in his amusement. Worthless shitheads. There were no words in the English language to describe how much Briar hated cops, and, well, he didn't know any other languages.

And then, a phone rang.

No one really moved when they heard it, although they looked somewhat surprised. Hell, he was too. He didn't know the phone lines would be working in this goddam place. Well. Who would've thought? Anyways, it rang. And rang. And rang. Didn't look like anyone would be making a move anytime soon to pick up the damn thing, so, courteous as you please, he took the liberty of picking up the phone and answering it. He put that shit on speaker and set it down on a nearby table, backing away a few steps after doing so, and taking a drag on his lovely Black Devil as he listened.

He listened to the words of the all-knowing A with rapt attention. If this information could keep him from getting killed, Briar was all fucking ears. The last thing he wanted was to end up dead because he had chosen the wrong moment to pay attention. Even though he was good with coming up with things on the fly, he was also smart enough not to play the same game with his life when he had a chance to be prepared. He'd be damned if he'd let himself end up like Eddie. Fucking Eddie.

He took short mental snippets of information. Work together- Fuck that. 1223 Elderidge Street, facility codes, Adam Westsomething- Roger. Need each other- Fuck that. Stay in zones with power, stay out of the open if there ain't none- Gotcha. Alrighty. Got the gist of things.

A eventually disconnected, something that Briar assumed had to do with this general area's sucky electronic everything. The littlest of the two brothers said something about a friend living around there. Idly, this triggered a thought to flash into his mind and vanish just as quickly: "Lives" or "Lived"? He wanted to assume it had been a slip of the tongue, but one never knew for sure in a hellhole such as Lassidus. But he seriously doubted if there were that many children still alive and kicking. Even if they had had parents, the apocalypse can oftentimes bring out the worst in people. Hell, if he'd had a kid (not that he would be so careless as to knock a broad up or anything; this was completely hypothetically speaking) he'd always just assumed that he'd have used it as zombie bait a long, long time ago. Such was the way of the world. Kids were just liabilities in times of crisis. Liabilities and unlucky sons of bitches.

Jesus Christ, he hated kids.

He tuned in in time to catch Broad Numero Uno suggesting that they search for essentials and such. It was a good idea, but a thought struck Briar once she'd said it: he had no idea what was in his own pack-o-wonders. So, curiously, he shifted the backpack off of his shoulder and unzipped it, still trying not to whistle round his cig. He set it on a desk and opened it. Surprise surprise- whiskey. Two bottles of it. He was appalled at himself. Just two? What the fuck? Grunting softly in disappointment, he shifted the carefully-placed bottles aside a bit and inspected the contents further. A pack of Black Devil. Thank Christ. A couple of sandwiches, wrapped in plastic. A banana. Idly, he wondered where the everloving fuck he got a banana from, but then he quickly moved on. A bandanna was in there, for some reason, near the bottom. Some extra ammunition was in the small pocket, and he was more or less satisfied at his loot.

Still saying nothing, he zipped his bag up once more and took Numero Uno's advice, meandering around a few desks, checking drawers and such. In one, he found a battery-powered flashlight, the long black ones that cops held weirdly. He checked it, and it worked for the most part. Beginning to hum a classic Beatles tune ever, ever-so-quietly, he slipped it into his bag and continued looking. He found a pair of handcuffs and their key, entertained himself by opening them and closing them for a minute or so, before slipping those into the small pocket of his bag as well. He was satisfied, more or less, but he wandered about the many desks and such anyways, continuing his soft tune. He was very bored, he realized. He frowned. Should've brought a deck of cards or something. Who knew it was possible for the end of the world to hit a lull?

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Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins
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Haytham looked off to the side, staring at nothing. Three things had occurred to him all at once. One, he hoped Max didn't seriously believe any of his friends had survived out there for this long. They themselves were lucky to have weathered the initial pandemic—their father had been crazy prepared, and they benefited. Not everyone was so fortunate. Two, this woman, she had a really... sweet? voice. Calming yet authoritative, like a teacher's. But she had yet to introduce herself. Neither had their latest stranger. The only other person's name he knew was Ciggy's—Briar, though that was thanks to A. Haytham chalked it up to the phone call interrupting everyone's train of thought. Three, her idea was a good one... he guessed. They could use as many supplies as possible, true, but no amount of random items would save them if they got caught out in the dark. He looked up at the woman, who was busy rummaging through her bag. An emotion he couldn't identify coursed through him like an electric shock, playing across his face. Something was wrong with this... this... everything. This world was going crazy. What was he even doing here, with these strangers?

He hadn't even learned to drive a car, yet he was holding a gun. A weapon of war, meant to take lives. He even threatened to kill a man. Kill! Hytham looked down. "Yeah... ... I guess that's a good idea." His voice sounded addled, even to his own ears. Bleh. He turned quickly, coming face to face with Max. "What?" He challenged, trying to organize his thoughts and settle his stomach. Panic had taken root in his gut, fluttering around like a swarm of gnats. He really really didn't want to get caught out in the dark, and the very possibility of it was freaking him out.

Afraid of the dark? the small logical voice in his head asked sarcastically. Isn't that a bit childish? He inhaled deeply. Trust his logical side to give him the kick in the rear he needed. He narrowed his eyes, standing up straight and taking a few steps past Max, who looked slightly confused.

"Come on, let's make this quick," he said, his confidence restored. He couldn't afford to sound weak in front of these strangers. Couldn't afford to be weak, not if he and Max are to survive. "The sooner we get out of here, the better," he muttered, looking back towards Max. "Don't just stand there, come help me with this."

Max nodded, following his brother as they started rummaging through various overturned desks.

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Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins
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#, as written by Deguu
Lauren sighed as she ransacked the drawers of an old desk, the wood stinking of rot and decay. She grimaced, opening a drawer to reveal nothing but a pile of moldy papers and the stench of damp. She closed the final drawer, and looked up, looking at her companions. The boys; close, working together. Well, more or less. Lauren could see the elder one frozen, almost in shock, and she was just about to say something when he appeared to recover. Haytham was a brave lad -they both were- and she could only admire their tenacity in this fucked up world they had to cope with. They were just kids. And then there was the man, who reeked of alcohol, sweat, and cigarette smoke. Christ only knew what he thought of the situation. Then there was the girl, around her age - maybe a little younger- who she hadn't taken much notice of, who reminded her just a little of herself. Well, what a motley crew they were.

She straightened up, stowing a few cans in her duffle as she did. They weren't anything particularly impressive or desirable, just various foodstuffs that they could turn to if all else failed, like spaghetti. She hated spaghetti.

The young teacher spoke up as she zipped her bag up again, introducing herself. "Hey...I guess if we're all like together now, we should make introductions, right? You can call me what you like, but my name's Lauren."

She continued speaking as she went about looking around the rest of the room, searching drawers and cupboards with an efficiency that suggested she'd been in this same situation before. "Umm, so I grew up around here. Just around the corner, I guess. I was training to be a teacher before the outbreak and all the crap that's going on now. I was going to teach Drama and English mostly. I suppose they're not really useful skills for this now but...hey, you can always use me as bait or something?" She suggested, simply talking to fill the silence.

By the end of her little speech, she had accumulated a new knife, some matches, a looted first aid kit, and a spare change of men's clothes. It wasn't anything fancy, but she would have to make do. She stashed her new belongings in her bag, filling it up, then decided to look up and grin.

"You can't really use me as bait... I can run fast, but I don't think it's something that I'd personally excel at"

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Max cringed at Lauren's bait joke. Together, he and Theo had managed to come across some interesting items: an electric lock pick, a taser, a little mini-flashlight (the type you'd see on a keychain), some Ramen Noodles, and a few old bags of peanuts.

Her joke really made him think. As Haytham quickly reintroduced himself and Max, the younger brother was stuck pondering the teacher's earlier words. What if the time came where one of them did have to act as bait for the others to survive? Who would it be?

He shuffled some papers around on the floor, hoping against hope to find another handgun... or something. Anything, really.

Who'd be the best bait? Probably him. He was definitely the fastest. Definitely the strongest. Maybe even the smartest. Max nodded to himself, looking sideways over at Haytham, who was tapping furiously on his sat-phone. Okay, maybe not the smartest. Just all around the most able. His mind wondered towards more morbid topics as he sifted through the devastated remains of the dispatch office. Sacrifice. Death. Max... he just couldn't fathom his own demise. It just wasn't possible. He couldn't see it. As long as they stayed in at night, these zombies were nothing. It was almost as easy as Call of Duty's zombie mode! ... well, at the lower levels, at least. He grinned to himself, basking in his own self-confidence and notions of invincibility.

Plus he and Haytham were working together?! These zombies won't stand a chance.

Even with all of that bravado, Max couldn't quite manage to completely dispel a sort of queasy feeling that had taken root in his lower body. The feeling began to spread after hearing A speak through the telephone, and it hadn't yet subsided. In fact, it only grew stronger as the minutes flew by. He recognized the feeling immediately: self-doubt. It was the same pre-game emotion that would assail him before he'd run out onto the field with his team during paintball competitions. The same stymieing force that tried to caution him, to get him to tone down his actions, to wait and think.

But that just wasn't Max's style. Hesitation meant the other guy shoots you before you can shoot him. He thought back to his first encounter with Briar—Ciggy, as Theo called him—not half an hour ago. He hesitated, that's how he got in such a bad spot in the first place.

Shoot first, ask questions later. That sounded a lot better. And easier.

Max gritted his teeth. Yet and still that nagging self-doubt persisted. He had to dispel it, and there was only one way to do that.

Conquer it.

Max, who had been crawling under an overturned desk, stood. He could feel Haytham's eyes on him the moment reached his full height. That didn't matter though. He had to do this.

As he once again waded through the sea of debris back toward the entrance from which he'd initially entered the room, Haytham spoke up. "Max, what are you doing?" He was speaking in his "listen to me I'm the authority figure" voice. Max never liked it when he did that, so he didn't respond. When he unlatched the door, he could hear commotion behind him. Haytham had stood as well, and was probably making his was over towards him. "Max..." he started.

Before Max could open the door, Haytham grabbed at his hand, catching him by the sleeve. "What are you doing, idiot? Are you trying to die?" Haytham scolded, his tone bitter and icy.

Max gritted his teeth again, snatching his hand from Haytham's grip. "No Theo, I'm just taking a look—"
"Latch the door," Haytham ordered.
...
"Fine, I'll do it myself."

As Haytham reached over to latch the door back, Max tried to grab his hand, but Haytham was moving too fast. Max ended up pushing Haytham's arm into the door, causing it to open slightly. It was dark in the hallway, though a light shined from the open door they had used to enter the facility earlier.

They never did close that back door behind them.

"What was that for?" Haytham asked, attempting to speak in a hushed tone so that the others wouldn't overhear them.
"Because you're acting like you're the boss when you're not!"
"Oh my... GOD. In the middle of the end of the world and you still manage to bitch about something!"
"How about you—"

From outside the door, something reached in with lightning speed, snatching Haytham's arm and pulling it towards the small opening. Both boys stopped fighting instantly, eyes on the rotting appendage that clutched Haytham's arm in a death grip. The creature on the other end moaned. Loudly. Very loudly.

That initial period of shock lasted but for a moment.

"Max!" Haytham shouted, but his brother had already brought his pistol to bear, aiming the Glock straight at the thing's face. It was trying to ram its teeth through the crack in the door to gnaw at Haytham's arm. With three quick reports, the creature was dispatched, but not before it had dug its nails into Haytham's forearm. "Fuck!" The zombie was extremely agile, and its loud moans and groans combined with the sound of gunfire seemed to have attracted more of them.

Small fast-moving groups of zombies were pouring in through the door they'd left open. Haytham heard them before he saw them—the light succinct patter of feet running upon concrete floors. They were definitely runners.

Without wasting anymore time, Haytham slammed the door shut, latching it. He could hear the banging of the creatures on the other side. It wouldn't be long until they figured out how to go around to the other entrance, like Haytham did when he got behind Briar. The boy held his arm behind his back, hoping to hide the his wound from his new compatriots. Even though it wasn't deep, it still stung. Haytham winced as he slung one of the satchels over his shoulder.

"Guys, we gotta go." He gave Max a look somewhere between you doofus, this is all your fault and are you okay? Max refused to meet his brother's eyes, instead gawking at the arm Haytham was hiding behind his back, a look of horror upon his face. "Uh. Like, now," Haytham reiterated, panic entering his voice.

Then he ran for the door behind Allison.

The setting changes from Area 2 to Quarantine Zone - America

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Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins Character Portrait: Kaijin No Soki
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#, as written by Soki
OOC: Sorry for my post being placed in the wrong Area, fixing now.

The setting changes from Quarantine Zone - America to Area 2

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Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins Character Portrait: Kaijin No Soki
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#, as written by Soki
Well his day had started out odd, usually he enjoyed a coffee and a bagel in the morning. Though his usual mornings didn't involve surviving encounters with zombies. Thus, he would have no coffee nor bagel this morn. He had received a call from A early that morning letting him know that he needed to move towards the police station post haste, or at least as quickly as he could manage. He hadn't been to far from the police station when the call came through in fact; no more then a couple of blocks, which was fortune at the last as he stayed low to the ground a knife held tightly in his right hand as he placed his left on-top of the hood of a car, peaking over it.

His eyes locking onto a small hordes of what appeared to be agile zombies, and one or two small hordes of Shamblers. already making their way into a door left wide open. "Well that was a mistake on their part.." He said keeping low to the ground as he moved off to towards the side of the police building; if anything he needed to get in there, find the survivors help them; if they needed, get out of there and somewhere safe; he just hoped. Then al the sudden his ears were ringing, and he realized his face hurt. "Damn....should have seen that coming." He said rubbing at his nose and forehead that had taken the most of the blow from the door. When his eyes could finally focus he made out a few survivors seemingly scared out of their wits and running. "Easy, where's the fire, can't you at least stop to ask the guy you bashed with the fucking door?" he joked checking ot make sure his nose was still straight, and attacked to his face. That was when he remembered the hordes on the other side of the building. "Oh right, yeah running from the dead...yeah forgot my bad; for a minute there thought the only thing I had to worry about was a nose bleed." Another bad pun from the worlds most efficient assassin. "Look I'm not a zombie, if i was i'd be rather pissed about the door; I saw you alerted quite a good amount of zeds, you've two choices, you can run like idiots and alert them more." He paused for a second to rub at his nose, which was still hurting. "Or you can follow me quietly, and I can lead us towards a safe place without alerting more zombies with heavy footsteps and gunfire." He only paused for a moment and then pointed off over his shoulder in a diagonal way. "It's two and a half blocks that way, and you can hide out there until your friends don't wanna play anymore." His ears began picking up on the groans and grunts from the zombies at the front of the police station, turning to look and making sure none were peeking around the corner. "Look, keep low, and keep up; or have fun being chased and eaten, cause I'm no ones main course" He said that and was already ducking behind cars and making his way quickly and quietly back the way he came.

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Character Portrait: Haytham Collins Character Portrait: Allison Nonelle Character Portrait: Briar Lorris Character Portrait: Maximus Collins Character Portrait: Lauren Collins Character Portrait: Kaijin No Soki
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As Haytham bum-rushed the door, with Max and what he could only hope were the others quick on his tail, there was a barely audible oof, as if someone had been punched in the stomach. Haytham, the first person out of the door, turned to see what looked like a menacingly well-toned yet affably upright zombie standing behind the door. Haytham slowed to a halt, glaring at the figure, his stare quizzical in nature. It took but a moment for his brain to catch up to his eyes.

That's not a zombie!

Max, the second person through the door behind Haytham, lay witness upon the same sight; however, where Haytham met the circumstance with caution and forethought, Max leapt immediately to action. Before Haytham could even begin to shout a warning, Max had brought his pistol to bear, aimed, and fired three shots in quick succession, straight into the man's chest—or at least he would have had Allison, the third person to emerge from the doorway, not tugged on his arm at the last second. The cacophonous reports rang out thrice into the air, safely aimed away at the sky.

Max shook off Allison's grip like the plague. "My ammo... What the hell was that for?!" He demanded, a venom in his voice, briefly taking his eyes off of his target to focus on Allison. It was for this reason that he was startled when his target spoke. "Easy, where's the fire, can't you at least stop to ask the guy you bashed with the fucking door?" Apparently, this brush with a bullet-riddled demise didn't even phase him in the slightest. Everyone just kind of stared awkwardly at everyone else until one of the others bringing up the rear of their group shouted what Haytham interpreted as "why the hell aren't we running?!"

"Oh right, yeah running from the dead...yeah forgot my bad; for a minute there thought the only thing I had to worry about was a nose bleed." Haytham couldn't tell if this guy was joking or serious. Why was he here, behind the door? What did he want? While his mind was spinning questions, he realized that his legs had begun moving again without his permission. He was about to start running, but to where he didn't know. Somewhere. Anywhere to get away from these things. Perhaps into some random yet well-lit building—

"Look, the stranger interrupted his train of thought and impending absconsion, I'm not a zombie, if i was i'd be rather pissed about the door; I saw you alerted quite a good amount of zeds, you've two choices, you can run like idiots and alert them more." Haytham gave him another quizzical look before taking a quick peek back through the door and into the police station. The zombies hadn't made it around the hall yet, but their time was running extremely thin. "Or you can follow me quietly, and I can lead us towards a safe place..."

Both Haytham and Max looked at each other, each youth recognizing the distress in the other's eyes, before glaring back at the stranger, almost as if synchronized. They didn't trust him. Why would they?

But if he was telling the truth, did they really have any better option? With panic setting in and time running out, Haytham looked toward Lauren. She was the "eldest" of the group in his eyes, and he trusted her more than any of the others—especially Briar. He gave her a questioning gaze: should we trust him for now?