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Esther Lille

"I sold my soul for drugs. Happily."

0 · 237 views · located in Post-Apocalyptic America

a character in “Bullets and Brains”, as played by NutellaJake

Description

Esther Lille
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"I sold my soul for drugs. Happily."




The Basics




Full Name: Esther Nicole Lille

Gender: Female

Age: 22

Ethnicity/Race: Irish, Italian, German, Norse, Native American.

Sexual Orientation: Straight


Prior Occupation: Waitress




What's on the Outside





Hair Color: Chemical blue fading into her natural blonde from lack of upkeep.

Eye Color: Blue

Height: 5'4"

Weight:49 Kg

Tattoos and Piercings: Tattoo sleeve on her right arm depicting Layne Stayley and Kurt Cobain. The In Utero angel on her back. And small music notes coming out of her ear and down her neck. An eye brow piercing, a bull ring, a nose ring, a lip ring, both ear piercings, an industrial, cheek piercings and a navel piercing.


Scars:Track marks on both her arms depict years of heroin abuse. Her left ear is missing part of the lobe.

Character Color: The website I was referred to was shut down.

Description:Raised by her brother due to her neglectful parents, Esther lived on the streets of Detroit for the majority of her life. She learned to look up to her brother in all scenarios. And when he introduced her to heroin, she didn't give it a second thought. She became addicted fast. She became enveloped in her addiction for three years before the events of 'Bullets and Brains' forcefully seperated her from it. She counts that as a good thing, in the three years before, she did things that would carry with her for the rest of her life. She despises herself, and questions the validity of her life every day. Why can't she just put a bullet in her own head?




What's on the Inside




Personality:
{Distrustful, Callous, Impulsive, Condescending, a Victim}
After years of emotional torture at the hands of her well intended brother, sleazy dealer, and the oh so infamed drug, she's become callous and distrustful. Her emotional state has become brittle, with the slightest thing being able to send her over the edge. Especially when you add withdrawals into the mix, she's a time bomb. Nearly despising new people, she has no capacity to make friends, but if circumstances force her, then we may see a few additions to her small, adamant circle of trust. Her emotional issues have become so powerful that they virtually dominate her entire personality.
Hobbies: Smoking Cigarettes.
Drawing.
Playing guitar.


Habits: Heroin use.
Nail biting.
Singing to herself.



Oddities: Hates being touched.
Has O- blood type.
Is allergic to cinnamon.



Likes/Loves:
  • Impulsive Behavior. (Pills, breaking rules.)
  • Normality. (Being able to pretend that the zombies don't exist.)
  • Flannel Jackets (Her brother used to wear them.)
  • Bracelets (She has tons.)
  • Music. (She loves everything about music. She lives music.)
Dislikes/Hates:
  • New people.
  • Discipline.
  • Country Music.
  • Gunfire.
  • Blood.





What Makes Us Special




Strengths and Weaknesses

Character Skills/Talents:
  • Scavenging.
  • Very remedial first aid.

Character Flaws/Weaknesses:
  • Bad marksman.
  • Physically weak.


Secrets: She was raped by her dealer the year before.
She blames herself for her brother's death, even though she wasn't there. He was high on heroin, and stumbled off of his balcony.



Fears/Phobias:
Gun fire.
Blood.
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What's Done Is Done




Biography

Place Of Origin: Detroit, Michigan

Birth Date: December 17, 1992

History: Esther Nicole Lille. The daughter of a twenty one year-old girl and a drug dealer. Four years later than her brother, Jerry Wayne Lille. Her father was absent from the scene long before her arrival, as was her brother's. The Lilles lived a hectic but survivable existence until Esther was about four, which is when her mother's drug use began to catch up with her. She began developing severe schizophrenia (What she already had became more prominent.) And having delusions, hallucinations, abusing Esther and Jerry until Esther was about eleven, and her brother fifteen. Jerry and their mother got into an altercation when she hit Esther, and Jerry went off on her for it. Both kids were kicked onto the streets. Jerry took care of Esther for the remainder of her childhood.

Esther's nineteenth birthday, her brother had been involved in starting a lawn care business, which proved to be quite successful in Ann Arbor and the surrounding area. With this new found money, he was able to get his sister two gifts. The twelve hundred dollar sleeve that she had always wanted, and two grams of heroin. Jerry had tried it himself and had been amazed by it, the awesome power it gave to his mind and consciousness... Letting his sister feel this amazing substance was only logical to him. He considered it a gift, to her, it would be a curse.

When the outbreak hit, she was a junkie by every definition, doing horrible things for just one more fix. One more needle. After the incident, her supply was cut off, and she endured vicious withdrawals for weeks, and still is. She struggles to survive. It's a miracle that she has made it this far, but in all honesty, if she doesn't find help soon, then it will be over for her soon.



Happiest Memory: Playing guitar with her brother.

Saddest Memory: Finding her brother after his accident.



So begins...

Esther Lille's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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I would like to begin by saying (Since I lack the ability to PM yet.) I could not find the name of the H&M model that my photo was of, I would like to change my character picture to the well known Rooney Mara. The hair color (Black), eye color(Dark blue) and piercings are canon changes. Thank you very much for understanding, and I apologize for this OOC break in an IC forum, and for the probable many future mistakes that I'll try to prevent seeing as this is my first
forum-RP.


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"Son... Have you seen the world?
Well what would you say? If I said you could.
"

She sang softly as she made her way down the alley between the building-lined streets. She felt a chill run down her spine, so she stopped for a brief minute, laid her bloody cricket bat against a fence and zipped her jacket up. It was an old thing, but it fit her perfectly. It had a black vest as the center piece, but featured a wool hood and sleeves, it was very effective for keeping her warm, but she hadn't truly ever minded the cold in the first place. She set her black and yellow, button-studded backpack down beside her and opened the pocket on her jacket. The pockets were secured by plackets and were a burden to open, but she'd grown too attached to the jacket to consider a replacement. She reached inside the pocket on the lower left side and snatched up a pack of Davidoff cigarettes. She opened it to see three cigarettes loosely knocking around inside. "Ahh~ damn." She'd have to stop by a gas station and see if there were any cigarettes that hadn't been raided off of the shelves. They wouldn't have Davidoffs though... Dammit, they wouldn't have Davidoffs.

She pulled one of the cigarettes from the container and placed it between her lips, shutting the pack, and shoving it into the same pocket it came from. This time her hand emerged with a bright blue zippo lighter sporting a cog on the side with "Speak your mind." engraved into it. It was covered in abrasions and paint damage, but it still worked well. It was running short on fuel and she'd have to fix that soon, but even if she couldn't, getting rid of the lighter was out of the question. A replacement was not.

She lit her cigarette, cupping her right hand over the end as it lit, before igniting and searing hot as she took a drag. She dropped the lighter back into her pocket, neglecting to refasten the placket. After a few drags, she reached down and slung her bag back over her shoulder, and looked at her cricket bat. It was wooden, with a yellow, professionally taped handle and an insignia reading "Kookabura." on the side. Was that a team? A company? She didn't know, she had never played Cricket. She grabbed the bat with her left hand and continued down the alley.

The concrete of the alley was angled, so that the center was wet with bloody water. She took care to avoid it. Her cargo pants and combat boots, (Of which she happened to wear before all of this had taken place.) didn't need to smell of iron. She took a turn at one of the openings in the wooden fence, to see a gas station just across the street. She looked to her sides to assure that she wouldn't accrue an entourage crossing the street. That's when she discovered that the building she was standing adjacent to was a pharmacy... "The temptation... Should I?" She said to herself jokingly as if it were even a genuine question. She had always talked to herself, she blamed it on her schizophrenia, but perhaps it was just a quirk she'd developed. She didn't think she was talking to someone, but it just relieved her to provide commentary. It made her life more like a show or something. More... Bearable.

She hopped through a conveniently broken window and looked around the dark pharmacy for a few minutes before her impatience got the best of her. Oh how dead she could be, but luck had graced her... And she hadn't even realized it. She scanned the shelves, finding a few bottles of Tylenol, some NyQuil, a bottle of two milligram Xanax, and a box of Fentanyl, stuffing them all into her bag on top of the toilet paper, two boxes of feminine products, three 'Three Musketeers' bars, and the large bag of Funyuns that she'd been too scared to open before. She zipped her bag up and walked outside, towards the gas station.

She had only two thirds of her cigarette left, resting in her mouth, bag slung over her right shoulder and cricket bat in hand. She stopped two-thirds across the street, peering through the open doors. "What's going on in there...?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Adam Dawson Character Portrait: Layton Bates Character Portrait: Kat Savchenko Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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Esther peered inside where one zombie, hunched over on his knees, was eating the flesh off of a once living man. It was disgusting. She could feel her stomach churning. But there was only one, she had this under control. She set her backpack on the ground and took one last indulgent puff from her cigarette before taking it from her mouth and resting it on the pack. She approached slowly, cricket bat in hand.

She nudged the zombie in the back with the cricket bat, and as expected, it slowly peered around, locking her eyes for a moment before reorienting itself towards her, then began to stand. That's when she struck, stepping forward and putting her body weight into a swing that would send decayed teeth and blood ticking and splattering against the opened glass door that in its opened state, was facing them. It hit the ground with a thud.

She wanted to puke... She hit it again, blood fountaining into the air. It twitched. She hit it again, this time, angry. She could have swore she saw it move again. She hit it. Why was it moving? Why wouldn't it stop? Why wouldn't it die!? The head was in strewn pieces now, but she could swear... It was still alive. She hit it over and over, so angry at this... Thing. This monster, this horrid creature that ripped so many families apart. "Just fucking die!" She screamed... That snapped her out of it. Was... Was she hallucinating? She didn't know how long she'd been there... She felt dizzy. Oh how she wished she could take one of those Xanax right now.

She dropped her Cricket bat, too tired to maintain its grasp. She began mumbling out incoherent song lyrics, they all drew together before she changed octaves. "Down in a hole... Losing my soul..." she sang as she hesitantly picked up her bat, smeared with blood and other organ material. For the first time, she looked at the man who had been being eaten... 'Man' being used loosely. He was a husk in his stomach area, the whole section of his abdomen gone... But his face was intact. He was handsome. Very handsome. Her eyes suddenly began to well up with tears, but her expression didn't change. She inched towards the man, pleading with her sense of empathy to allow her to pass him without throwing up. Just step by step... She couldn't take her eyes off of his wound. She began to make out the anatomy charts she'd seen in health class, seeing what'd been eaten, and what hadn't. She heard his screams. He did not move, she did not see them... But oh god did she hear the-

And just like that, fate had elected to repay her negligence. A corpse tackled her from the blind spot on the opposite side of the wall of which she passed. It bit at her, but only got the hood of her jacket. She swung around with the meager amount of energy that she had left, whacking it in the stomach. It released its grip on the now perforated hood, but kept towards her, it was touching her, its decayed hand swiped her face. She barely arched her spine with all of her energy, the hand caught her lip ring and yanked it out, blood spewing down her face. She screamed, falling back into the corpse of the deceased, handsome young man. It closed on her, still standing. Without thinking she reached a hand behind her, drawing a revolver from underneath the young man's thigh. It was a blur, oh what luck! How the hell was she going to live? She pointed the gun roughly at the creature's center of mass as it prepared to tackle onto her. "Click. Click. Click." "Son of a bi-" "BANG."

The corpse fell back, stunned. She stood up, looking around in disbelief that she was still alive... She grabbed her cricket bat with her free hand and sprinted out the door, still physically drained and panting heavily. She scooped up her backpack and slung it around her shoulders, forgetting her cigarette for the moment before frantically searching the concrete for where it had fallen... There, she grabbed it and slid it between her lips, taking a generous drag and letting the smoke drift out of her nose for just... Just a moment of relaxation. No, a second. An instant.

She snapped back to reality, seeing the corpses begin shifting out of the door, she jogged off. Where would she go? ...What's the next logical place for food? A supermarket. Not much over-thinking was necessary. She jogged down the street, leaving the shuffling corpses in her wake... She rounded the corner and approached the entrance, something else was going on inside... Not again. She thought about leaving, but her curiousity wouldn't allow her. She slowly peered in, finishing her cigarette and resting the butt in her bottom left coat pocket. "People..." She whispered. She stood frozen in the doorway, watching the ruckus. Her cricket bat in her left hand, and the revolver with one bullet tucked safely away in her pack.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: James Milo Character Portrait: Adam Dawson Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Aspen Bates Character Portrait: Cyan Kress Character Portrait: Kat Savchenko Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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#, as written by mich22
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Fight. Alright—well…the mild doctor didn’t even bother to check his pockets. He did not carry a gun, of any sort. Believe him, dear reader, when you’re with someone who has eyesight like Adam Dawson, you’d be downright glad that the nearsighted man chose not to carry deadly weapons. Nathan returned to them once again, but Adam couldn’t help quirk an eyebrow at what he had brought back. Alcohol? He was sure a zombie outbreak would make anyone crave a good strong drink but really now wasn’t the time to be worr—oh. Nathan began unceremoniously stuffing his makeshift wicks into the necks of the bottles. If anyone or anything was ever thirsty for a Molotov cocktail, it’d certainly be the undead. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards during his quiet observation. The closest the man’s been to a smile in ages.

Lights flickered with the monotonous drone of florescent lights. Was someone tampering in the breaker room? Hazel eyes quickly adjusted, grateful for the extra light and scanned the aisle headings. Target locked. Pharmacy. Once those bottles were lit, there would be very little time to spend scavenging the store, and he didn’t plan on squandering a second of it. On the positive side, it seemed that their small party had grown. Art had joined in at Nathan’s side, already successful with her own ventures. That shock of red hair could only be none other than Aspen. As Nathan drew back his arm with his newfound weapon, the faintest whisper had notified Adam to look towards the doorway. A reclusive girl stood there, bloodied cricket bat in hand. She was battered up something awful. He’d have to patch her up later, no doubt. Uncertain on whether she was keen on letting her presence known to the others, he gave her the minutest acknowledging nod, before the shattering of glass and flame sprung their operation forwards.

You know, sometimes, it’s hard to believe how fast things melt into chaos.

“Sorry.” Adam ducked down around them, feeling the heat of the flames lick his skin. Nathan would probably do more than scold him for splitting off from the group later. The others, Nathan, Kat, Cyan, they were the fighters. He was--well, he didn't really know what he was. He wouldn't be of any use to them there, but he did know what he could do. Gathering medication was his priority. Should someone choose to come with him, then all the better, but he would not ask someone purposely to carry him as a burden. With the zombies, momentarily confused by the sudden noise, smoke and flame, he hurried his way over to the correct aisle. Though he sacrificed one hand to hold his blazer to his mouth and nose as a prevention of smoke inhalation, the other hand readily grabbed packages of bandages, bottles of rubbing alcohol—he’d really love to hop behind the counter for access to the stronger medications—but Tylenol and the like, even a few Unisom sleeping aids, should do for now. He hastily added whatever was left of those to his supply. But the call of more effective supplies was too strong. One flicker of his eyes towards the counter, a pause, and anyone who saw would know what he was about to do.

He made a dash for it, clumsily sliding under the flip-open partitioning door. The bottom shelf contained mainly opioids, but he could work with that. Wonderful. Tramadol, buprenorphine, methadone, were all gratefully added to his sack. The doctor went busily to work, but so immersed he was--

--that he did not notice the zombie lurking on the opposite side of his shelf.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Michael Fairaday Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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#, as written by krashby
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Michael had not yet responded when Annabelle had the sudden feeling that something was amiss. She peered back around the side of the building. Aspen and Layton had emerged from the gas station and now headed towards the supermarket. Anna could remember many of the others going to that same place. Why had they not yet emerged? Nate had been very specific about the time restraint of this scavenger hunt, and even he was no where to be seen. Anna's stomach sank. What was happening in that supermarket?

Before she could further contemplate or investigate, a figure emerged from around the corner of the supermarket. It was too far to make up clearly or distinguish gender or age, but Anna could see the gore which covered it. One of the undead. But, no... it couldn't be. The figure was moving too quickly, and in it's hand it held some kind of club or bat. Anna's knowledge was limited, but even she knew that zombies were not nearly coordinated enough to lift objects and carry them for any amount of time. This was a human, another survivor, though not one Anna recognized.

It was well known in these days to be wary of outsiders. Outlaws and bandits were free to roam the streets, willing to kill you without so much as a bat of the eye for a granola bar. Anna had seen it herself. Worse yet, she had experienced it. Five days after Daniel's death and her narrow escape from the undead-filled university, after the whole world had gone to hell, a desperate and starved Anna had been scavenging a ransacked drug store for supplies. The search was in vain, and she stepped outside empty handed. She was immediately ambushed and seized by two thuggish men who held a knife to her throat and told her to give them everything she had. "Please," she had begged them, tears stinging her eyes. Droplets of blood had formed where the knife pressed into her skin. "I don't have anything, I have no food... good God, let me go. Please." But even after they searched her and found her to be speaking the truth, they did not leave her be. They told her to give them her jacket, her shoes, her clothes, even the locket which hung around her neck. Everything. And with the way their eyes had hung to her curves and their hands had lingered over certain areas, she feared that they truly wanted everything. And even if she gave it she knew they were going to kill her anyways.

Her savior had been, ironically, the zombies. When the men proceeded to try to force Anna's clothes off, she had let out a bloodcurdling cry of terror. The sound summoned the hoards. With the undead upon them, Anna's assailants ignored their victim as they turned to defend themselves, allowing her a moment of chaos through which she could slip away and escape. As she fled into the trees and ran, she hoped that the bastards were killed. She didn't dare look back to she if it was so.

Strangers were dangerous; few could be trusted. But even if Anna was no stronger, she at least had numbers on her side now. The group protected each other. This stranger was alone. And judging from the blood, possibly injured. Anna felt her compassion rush through her, and without saying a word to Michael, she took off suddenly to follow the stranger. They -- she, Anna realized as she come closer into view -- entered the supermarket, Anna following at a distance behind. She paled at the sounds from inside. She heard Nate's voice and shattering glass and the rush of movement and clash of chaos... and the undeniable moan of zombies. Had she been a braver person, Anna might have pulled her gun out and rushed inside to help. But instead she became frozen just outside of the doorway. The dark-haired stranger in front of her (was that blue in her hair?) did not move any further inside either.

Anna swallowed hard as she worked up for courage. She gripped the handle of her pistol firmer, just in case. The stranger was putting out a cigarette, simply watching the chaos inside. Finally Anna spoke. "Hello," she said. She had meant for her voice to be strong, unafraid, but instead it came out as little more than a mumble. She dared not raise her voice long enough to draw attention of the zombies within. "Are you okay? Are you injured?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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"In the sun, in the sun~ I stand as one, in the sun." She murmured so softly that it may have been more true to life to call it mouthing. She sighed, wondering what exactly to do next... She didn't like people not at all. They can all burn in hell for all she cared, she was on the verge of turning around when she heard a voice. "Hello?" Esther twitched away, dropping her cricket bat and tripping over her own combat boots, falling away from the girl.

She had looked like a fool, she scurried to her feat, looking the girls in the eyes disdainfully. "Are you okay? Are you injured?" She'd meant to do that. 'She's having a blast.' Esther thought for a moment. 'No, that's ridiculous... Stop.' The battles of insecurity and reason shot back and forth while her own rebuttals were particularly absent. She stared at the woman for a while, her gaze shifted from frustrated to confused before she finally spoke. "I'm fine... Wh-What do you want?" She said defensively as she reached for the cricket bat on the floor. Just then she patted her pocket habitually... Something was missing. She looked down, her Zippo. She hadn't refastened the plackets. Her Zippo must've fallen out. She was clearly distracted with her pocket before after a moment drawing her attention back to the woman disdainfully.

She wiped at her jaw, unbeknownst to her, it was covered in blood, as well as her neck. All originating from the open wound on her lip that was gushing blood.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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#, as written by krashby
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The woman looked to be near the same age as Anna, give or take a couple years, but that is where the similarities ceased. In better light Anna could confirm the blue hair, fading away into the woman's natural color from a month's lack of upkeep. Metal studs gleamed from eyebrow and nose. Along with splattered blood that clearly came from someone or something else, her lip was busted open something awful and bleeding profusely onto herself. At first glance it seemed to have resulted from a blow of sorts, but as Anna looked closer she realized it was more of a rip, as though something had been torn out. Another piercing, she realized, and the thought made Anna stomach turn. The whole look made her take an involuntary step backwards, and for a moment she was struck speechless.

Only for a moment. Though Anna's apprehension of being found alone with a stranger such as this was great, her concern for the well being of this injured woman won out. She stood still in place, too cautious to move any closer but the longing to help fighting against her instinct to flee. "I-I'm sorry," she finally sputtered out. "I didn't mean to startle you." Nerves rising and with nothing else to do with her hands, she fiddled with her loose wisps of hair, finally pushing them back behind her ears. She found it nauseating to look at the blood for too long. The thing growing in her gut already made one guest appearance today, and Anna had to turn her glance away to avoid another.

There was something off about this woman. Definitely off... She was fidgety, with eyes which glanced this way and that and changed expressions in the instance. Anna had no experience with this kind of behavior and couldn't for the life of her know what to make of it, much less how to proceed. The woman began to reach for her bat, and Anna raised her hands in front of her, fingers well away from the pistol's trigger. "I'm friendly," she said hastily. "I won't hurt you. My name is Annabelle... Anna."

Without warning the woman's attention was redirected, lowering her guard as she appeared to be searching for something. Anna blinked, mouth open in the middle of a frozen word. She stood like that until the woman seemed to remember her again.

"You're bleeding," Anna blurted. It came to her that the woman might be unaware of the fact. "It's dangerous here. I can take you somewhere safe. We have a doctor who can fix your lip... and a place to rest," she added as an afterthought. The woman looked utterly exhausted.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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She stared at the woman, still with scorn. Ann had to avert her gaze... 'She had to look away. She had to look away from you.' It echoed in her head. Why did she have to notice, why did this minor detail suddenly dominate her thoughts? She couldn't get her mind off of it. 'She had to look away from you.' She stuffed her thoughts back, hopefully still appearing minorly sane to the woman. Ann was talking about something, but Esther wasn't listening. She was still fighting her insecurities. That's what she called them in her mind. Insecurity. Not voices because that made her feel crazy. And she wasn't crazy.

After what felt like a blend between a bad high and a head rush, she snapped out of her thoughts. "-gerous here. I can take you somewhere safe. We have a doctor who can fix your lip... And a place to rest." Esther hadn't slept in what seemed like days, and her caffeine was running off. She felt like she was lapsing into unconsciousness just by staring in the same place for too long. What inevitably followed was a jolt back to the real world as her body realized that it was trying to sleep, which terrified her. That momentary feeling, that terror... Helplessness and weakness bit her heart every time she was startled.

Her poor excuse for social cues told her that it might be a good idea to actually respond, rather than stand there looking like an illiterate. "W-why would... You... Help me?" Her words drenched in condescending hesitation, as well as almost being chattery. Explainable by the cold, but Esther knew that temperature wasn't the problem. As a matter of fact, she noticed that the chattering... Persisted through her whole body. She was shaking. Her cargo pants and coat, while baggy, still revealed her worryingly small frame lightly convulsing, barely noticeable.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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#, as written by krashby
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Anna bit her lip. She wasn't entirely sure if this woman was hearing a word she spoke. She appeared otherwise preoccupied, but with what, Anna could only guess.

What Anna did know was the longer they both just stood there, the more danger they were in. She looked to the doorway of the supermarket. Aside from occasional movement it was difficult to make out what was happening within, but the sounds... Anna shuttered with every clash and bang and moan that reached her ears. Behind the woman's head she could see some kind of strange light, and the smell of something... burning? Was that fire? All Anna could think was that so close to her someone she knew could be injured, or bitten, or dying. She knew for a fact Nate was in there, and last she saw little Milo had been following close behind...

There's nothing you can do, Anna told herself. Those people in there know how to fight, not you. They know how to take care of themselves. Besides, this woman needs help. I can help her. The rest can take care of themselves...

That's what she told herself, anyways.

Anna's attention snapped back when the woman in front of her seemed to... convulse a bit, like someone being suddenly awoken. Anna couldn't be sure, she hadn't been watching very closely. But now that she looked closely she could see that the woman's whole body seemed to be shivering. Shaking. Anna wasn't sure which was the better word. Either way, she leaned down slowly to place her pistol on the floor, and then she used her free hands to unzip her grey lightweight jacket and pull it off of her, revealing underneath nothing more than a simple purple tank top. The small black outline of a heart could be seen tattooed on her wrist. A chilly breeze brushed upon her newly exposed flesh, but she ignored it, taking a step forward and than another, moving just slightly out of arm's reach of the woman.

"W-why would... You... Help me?" the woman had said.

"Because," Anna replied, reaching her arm out to offer the extra jacket. She met the woman's eyes, blue to blue, each set haunted by separate demons. "There aren't that many of us left. We have to look out for each other... or else none of us survive."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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She stared at the woman for several long seconds, suspicion and contempt in her eyes... Before her gaze lifted slightly. She straightened her back, painfully. She was just taller than the woman. Her legs were wobbling slightly.

"I'm not cold... I-..."

She looked off, realizing that she didn't want to finish that sentence. She returned her focus to Anna

"...Keep it. I'm fine." She reached down and picked up the gun, using her other hand's pointer and middle finger to arm the safety (An amateur way to do so.) And handed it back to her, forcing a half-smile. Maybe this woman could help her. For now. 'Don't trust her Esther. Don't trust her.' For once they were right. She looked at the woman with what was her best resassurance, eyebrows raised, and something that resembled what she remembered to be a 'smile.' Forced, completely.

"It... It's not cold."

She held out the paddle for the woman to hold it (Ready to snatch it back if need be.) and (Presuming she takes it.) She yanked on her sleeve and the Velcro came undone. In one 'RIP' the sleeve was in her hand, she rolled it up tightly in a matter of seconds and jammed it into her pocket, fastening the placket this time. Her arm was tattooed in black with names, notes and musicians from shoulder to fingertip. And her veins had small circles on them that looked like bruises. On the top of her shoulder, she had the face of a man with long hair, and as it went down , straight lines circled her arm with musical notes, all the way down to the bottom where an 'A' was on her wrist with chains wrapped around it, circling her whole wrist. "Stayley" was tattooed on her palm, and "Layne" on the outside of her hand. A bass cleft in front of her fingers on both sides of her hand, and her fingers contained the notes to two different songs using her fingers as the lines to a bar. Her note tattoos around her ear and down her neck the only other visible ones. She smiles another forced smile at the woman.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adam Dawson Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Kat Savchenko Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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#, as written by krashby
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The hand holding Anna's offer fell lamely back down to her side. Slowly she pulled her jacket back over her, chilled skin thanking her for the slight comfort it provided. All the while she watched the woman carefully. When she began to reach for the gun left on the floor, Anna tensed and froze. She'd let her guard down. Should she try to turn and run? Should she try to grab the gun back. Her hesitation was too long; if the woman wanted to put a bullet in Anna's head, she easily had the time.

But she didn't. Anna's mouth hung open slightly as the safety was put on the pistol and then returned to her. Even more surprisingly, the woman released her one of her own weapons to her. The smile on her face was, well... less than convincing. Anna returned one just as weakly. This woman seemed very unstable, which in these days meant nothing but danger, and the lack of trust between the two strangers was obvious. And yet the woman released her weapon. Anna took the bat in her free hand, tilting her head slightly in confusion.

The next part was the strangest of the entire exchange. Anna shuttered at the rip of velcro, looking through the doorway immediately in fear that the noise would attract the undead. But of course, the commotion within was more than enough of a distraction to keep all the zombies occupied. At first Anna thought that the woman was simply trying to show her tattoos, but Anna couldn't understand why. Especially in a situation like this. "Those are... nice," Anna said anxiously. Reason told her to flee now, but she seemed to be glued in place. She looked at the arm. As an aspiring musician, Anna had spent years listening to and studying a wide variety of music and could recognize most of the musicians tattooed into the woman's skin... though admittedly, most of it wasn't exactly her first choice in music. It was only after she looked closely did she see the bruises. They looked like... injection marks... "Oh," Anna said. She felt dumb for not realizing sooner.

Gunshots. Anna jumped in place. They were far enough away for her to be safe, for now, but she had been in this group long enough to know that gunshots were only used in desperate situations. "We need to go," she said, attention snapping back to the present situation. She could smell the fire burning. Inside, she could see figures emerging to the exit. She could only hope everyone made it. "If you want help, follow. If not..." Anna handed the woman back her bat, and then she turned to head back to safety.

The rest of the group was emerging from the building. Anna did a hasty count in her head to try to figure out if anyone was missing. There seemed to be an injury or two, but nobody looked to be, well... dead. Thank goodness. Anna scanned for who she was looking for and found him quickly. "Adam," she called, jogging over to the doctor. Kat was limping on his arm but appeared otherwise unharmed. "What happened?" she asked once her reached them. Stupid question. Zombies happened, that's what. "Is everyone alright? I found a girl over there, by the supermarket. Not one of us. Her lip is busted over and bleeding quite a bit, and she might have other injuries but I'm not sure. But... I think something else is wrong with her..." Anna looked back to see if the woman had followed.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Adam Dawson Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Robyn Dempsey Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Shanti Nayar Character Portrait: Kat Savchenko Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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#, as written by girlwt
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Shanti followed behind Robyn, who took off when she saw the others. Shanti figured they would have to leave quickly to avoid the undead that would be attracted by the noise. Lizzy came back after seeing the others come from the building, which yes had been set on fire.

Shanti looked at it What a waste she thought to herself. Nate's need to cause destruction had struck again. Yet she hung back, knowing full well that she was in for a lecture one way or another. She had to smile though at Art's antics, smiled then roll her eyes. The others followed out, and it didn't look like they lost anyone to whatever was inside the building. She looked over at the Doc who was helping Kat, but she was also looking out for more undead. Anna came over and talked about finding another woman, Shanti glanced in the newcomer's direction...yeah something else was more of an accurate assumption.

The girl looked away and down the street, either the majority of the undead had been in the store, or they were hiding. She only saw a handful lumbering their way, "Can we play reunion back at base," she said to no one in particular. She didn't want to be wasting anymore time inside the town, which was creeping her out as it was. She shivered slightly even though she had an extra layer on from that morning. She had changed weapons figuring distance would be a better option at the moment. Risking a glance at Nate, she said nothing else, positive that mouthing off wasn't a good idea anyways.

"I am sure the kids are worried about you," this time her comment was to Art, she would have admitted that she was a little worried herself, but Shanti kept the face without expression. She gave the actress one of her small smiles instead after a minute, "good think you got big feet, or would have never found the trail leading here."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adam Dawson Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Kat Savchenko Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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She took her paddle back enthusiastically, letting go of a troubled breath.

"If you want help, follow. If not..."

The woman spoke before trotting off. Esther took a deep breath in before walking after the woman, more nervous than she'd been in the last month. She knew she couldn't survive on her own. Not by a long shot. The woman trotted about taking roll, and Esther simply fell into the middle of the group, standing awkwardly by herself. Deja vu. She spied Art from the corner of her view, noting her grey Nirvana T-shirt. 'Say something. Seem normal. Approach her.' All ideas. Ideas she wanted to fulfill. None of them came close to reality.

She saw the woman that had spooked her earlier had stopped and was talking with two people, one of them a man and the other a woman. She slowly walked over to the three, paddle idly swinging at her side, eyes at the floor. She became anxious on her way over. 'Turn around. You can still leave. Go. GO. GET AWAY!' she suddenly became fearful, and anxious and filled with terror. All these people, the smoke venting from the front door... The chatter... The crowd. She was suddenly mortally terrified by the prospect of a single being's attention resting on her.

She stood behind Anna, frozen. Anxious beyond expression. Her palms were sweating, her mind wouldn't keep straight and she could feel her heart beating out of her chest. What if they talked to her? What did they think of her? She was a freak. She looked at her inked arm without changing the direction of her head from the ground, just her eyes shifting uncomfortably. She didn't want to move. She didn't want to attract attention. She didn't want to exist. But she did. She looked up from the asphalt for one moment... A moment too long, her eyes met Anne as she turned around, and she froze. Terrified in fear that she may be forced to open her mouth.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: James Milo Character Portrait: Adam Dawson Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Robyn Dempsey Character Portrait: Annabelle Marie Richards Character Portrait: Aspen Bates Character Portrait: Shanti Nayar Character Portrait: Cyan Kress Character Portrait: Kat Savchenko Character Portrait: Esther Lille

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#, as written by mich22
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Adam exited the building with a rough cough to clear his lungs. The only regret, perhaps, would be the waste of supplies they had caused with their little light show. They hadn’t even taken a small fraction of what that store contained, and now anyone else that came would only be disappointed by ashes and dust. It may not be their problem in the future, but it may cause trouble for others in the future.

He noted that the group was already abuzz with chatter and seemed to be in good spirits. He gazed softened admiringly. The fight for survival, as much as you’d think would tear people apart, had actually brought them all closer together. Though, he couldn’t quite say he’d compare them to family just yet, they were dear to him, in some way. One would never be able to tell that they just came out of a burning building. Robyn and Shanti had even come to join the party. It was so rare to see the founder of their group stray so far from the children back at camp. Art and Nathan were up to their usual dramatics again. Sometimes he really wondered if they were--he quirked an eyebrow at Art’s announcement to Robyn. Oh good for them. The obvious fluster and confusion on Nathan’s face almost brought a smile to his lips. He did hope they’d invite him to the wedding.

His head snapped up at the call of his name. Oh goodness, he’d been completely lost in his thoughts again. He hoped Kat hadn’t noticed. Had she been speaking to him? A little blonde was jogging over to them—ah Annabelle. A flood of questions came soon after. ”Our plans went a little awry.” The cause of that seemed obvious enough, ”Yes, we’re all more or less in one piece, not to worry.” He shot Anna a quizzical look however, when she informed them that her scavenging had resulted not in clothing, or food, but another survivor! She turned around and the strange froze like a deer in headlights. Even disregarding the torn lip, the poor girl looked scared out of her wits. Adam looked down at his other companion. ”You should be alright for now, please let me look at that ankle when we’re back at camp.” Even so, he apologized again to Kateryna for dividing his attention from her so often.

The brunet took a gentle step forward to greet the stranger. Whatever terror she was feeling it certainly showed on her face. ”Hey--it’s alright. He spoke softly, “It's alright to be frightened...we all were at one point, but I promise you, you’re safe now.” Admittedly, shy, frightened, and sick children had given Adam a lot of experience speaking to the timid. He was an unassuming man in daily life, but as soon as you were his patient, he always gazed at you with a rare, irresistible prejudice in your favor. As if you were understood as much as you wanted to be understood. As if you he regarded you with the impression of you, at your best, that you hoped to convey. “We were just about to return to our camp. There's food, a warm fire, and a safe place to sleep. You’re welcome to join us. I can patch you up there as well.” Practiced fingers reached into his sack, pulling out a cotton pad. He held it at the level of her broken lip, to allow her to see what he was holding. “May I?”

cron