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William Andrews

"Why am I taking orders from a civilian again?"

0 · 331 views · located in Post-Apocalyptic America

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

Description

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"Why am I taking orders from a civilian again?"




The Basics




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Full Name: William Daniel Andrews

Nicknames:
Lt. Andrews, Skipper, Lieutenant, Andrews, Will

Theme Song

Gender: Male

Age:
22

Ethnicity/Race: Caucasion

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual


Prior (current) Occupation: Commissioned Officer in the US Army


Current Occupation:
Hunter




What's on the Outside




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Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Green

Height: 6'0

Weight: 150 lbs.

Tattoos: None


Piercings: None


Scars: A scar across his forearm from accidently cutting himself with a hunting knife when he was a boy.

Character Color: Chartreuse 4 font colors to pick from

Description: William has an average build for a person his height. Standing at 6'0 he's a little above average height. He's not particularly mucular, but he has gained a little bulk since Officer Training. He tends to try to stay clean shaven, but is often seen with some stubble on his face. He has black hair, that he tries to keep styled with gel, but it usually just falls apart after an engagement.




What's on the Inside




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Personality:
{Tactical, Intelligent, Clean Cut, Practical, Green}
Having almost no combat experience, this top student officer is as green a soldier as it gets. However, he has one of the best tactical minds ever which make up to some extent for his inexperience. He's a very clean cut "good boy" person, he goes by the book and follows or at least considers advice given from people that he knows has more experience.
Hobbies:
-Hunting, learning about tactics, poker, chess- (before the apocalypse or even during the apocalypse

Habits:
-Smoking, carrying a zippo, perfectionist habits-

Oddities:
-Smoking, allergic to pollen/grass, trauma from seeing one of his men becoming infected-
Likes/Loves:(At least 5)(repeat format if more)
  • Hunting
  • Poker
  • Chess
  • Learning
  • When things go as planned
Dislikes/Hates:(At least 5)(repeat format if more)
  • Unexpected turns for the worse
  • Cocky people
  • People who underestimate him
  • Guys that goof off to often
  • Bad Leaders





What Makes Us Special




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Strengths and Weaknesses

Character Skills/Talents:What is your character good at doing? (At least 4, Repeat format if more)
  • Crack Shot
  • Tactical Genius
  • Military Training/ Authority
  • Military Leadership Skills

Character Flaws/Weaknesses:What is your character bad at doing? (At least 4, Repeat Format if more)
  • Always goes by the book
  • Inexperienced and young
  • Almost no combat experience
  • Dislikes/believes he wasn't made for doing grunt work


Secrets:
-He doesn't really care about the group of survivors he's with, he just wants to get back to his company. He secretly hates taking commands from a former army NCO. He's hiding the fact that he's just trying to get in contact with his company to come pick him up.-

Fears/Phobias:
-Death, Death of Family, Death of Subordinates-




What's Done Is Done




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Biography

Place Of Origin: Lake Oswego, Oregon

Birth Date: August 5th, 1994

History:
-William was born in Lake Oswego Oregon to two parents. He had no brothers or sisters, so therefore he learned to fend for himself and make beneficial friends. Through his entire time of schooling, he maintained a GPA of 3.875 or higher. Finally, in high school however, he earned a GPA of 4.4.
After graduating from high school he began receiving requests and answers for applications from various officer schools. Naturally, William chose to go to West-Point. He graduated from West-Point at the top of his class, and entered the US army with the commission of Second Lieutenant.
William was assigned to Charlie company in a Battalion full of inexperienced junior officers. Apparently, the high-command suspected that the highly experienced NCO's of the Battalion would keep the officers in line. This concept worked out most of the time, but when the NCO's became injured or KIA, the Junior Officers didn't know what to do. William was assigned to Sargent Fist Class Neil Munoz as his second in command NCO.
Most of his Platoon was made up of inexperienced Privates straight from Basic Training. However, his NCO's were experienced and trustworthy, they kept the men in line. When the outbreak occurred, William's Battalion was the first one to be deployed to help restore order. Lt. Andrews' platoon got caught up in a tangle with a horde, and had to set up defensive positions. They couldn't last however, and their radios going haywire, Lt. Andrews left Munoz with the rest of the men, while he and a few others went to try to find the rest of the company. But they were attacked on their way there also, which is how the Lt. lost his men. He gave up on finding the other platoons and changed into civilian clothes, hoping to survive himself. He later ran into a ragtag group of survivors willing to take him in.-

Family Tree
Father: Eric Andrews, Age: 53, Status: Alive
Mother: Grace D. Andrews, Age: 51, Status: Alive

Happiest Memory: Graduating from West Point at the top of his class.

Saddest Memory: Leaving Sgt. Munoz to go search for help.



So begins...

William Andrews's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chloe Simmons Character Portrait: Rasul Hendricks Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Cyan Kress Character Portrait: William Andrews
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"C'mon boys, keep up the pace." William said as he continued walking at a brisk pace. There were two men behind him, Pvt. Genthner, and Pfc. Kayas. They continued after William, checking all of the possible places a zombie could unexpectedly run out of.

They'd just walked away from a major engagement of their platoon. It was only a matter of time before their platoon would be overrun. It was decided by 1st Sgt. Neil Munoz, that he, Lt. Andrews, would take a couple men and go find help from the rest of the company. Their radios had gone haywire recently, which was why there were communication problems between bodies of troops.

"You sure we're going the right way Lieutenant?" that was Kayas.

"Well Private, do you know where to go?" There was no answer from the GI. As they continued, they found a boarded up clothing store. "Let's take a short break here." William said. "I'm tired too you know." as he said this, he tried the door, and found it to swing right open. The company walked in cautiously and took seats on the floor.

"Do you really think we should be resting here Lieutenant?" it was Pvt. Genthner this time. "I mean...our guys could be...you know..."

"Well honestly, I don't see the point of letting ourselves tire to the point that we can't even raise our gun points." he replied. "Don't worry Private, we'll get help in time." "Get help? What a joke, there wasn't even a good chance that any of them would even survive for much longer. They were all gonna die, and he was the only one who could at least let the troops die a confident, heroic death."

It was then, when they all heard, or more felt, movement. The group raised there weapons and were greeted by a miniature horde of zombies. "Shit!" screamed Kayas firing his weapon on full auto.

"Don't waste your ammo!" William yelled over the gunfire, firing his own weapon on burst. "And don't let the damned things get to you!"

"Ah!!!" Genthner screamed as a zombie grabbed him. He pushed it away and nailed it with the butt of his gun.

"Careful private!" William yelled. "Let's get the hell out of here!" The company inched backwards towards the exit, until a couple zombies finally broke through. They indulged in Genthner's flesh as he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Get the hell out of here Lieutenant!" Kayas screamed re-assuming a crouching position.

"Wait! Wha-? Kayas cut in on the middle of his sentence.

"You know damn well that some captain won't listen to a lowly Private! And you know just as well as I do that both of us aren't gonna get out of here alive! Now get the hell out of here while you still can!" to add emphasis, the Private first class inserted a fresh magazine. Stunned, William listened to the words of the GI and ran out of the building.

As he continued running, he swore he could here the Private's screams...




William jolted awake inside of his tent. Coren was still asleep next to him, but it was already daytime. He looked around the tent for the Winchester model 1894 he'd picked up after he'd ran out of ammo on his personal fire arm. It was there, so feeling reassured, he unzipped himself from his sleeping bag. Not even bothering to wake Coren up, he crawled out of his tent and towards the group.

"Hey everybody..." he said approaching the group assembled.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chloe Simmons Character Portrait: Rasul Hendricks Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Robyn Dempsey Character Portrait: Cyan Kress Character Portrait: William Andrews
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Light was shining through the mesh of her tent and that was the first thing Robyn was aware of when she awoke to the sound of movement outside. The beam of sunshine, filtered through the trees above, seemed to burn her eyes as she opened them reluctantly. It wasn't that she hated mornings, she just didn't like breaking camp. Every day they moved further South was another day further from her daughter. That was, of course, if her daughter was still alive. But, Philipa-- or rather, Hero, for her despised her first name and insisted on her middle name-- was a tough cookie like her mothers. Perhaps she had made it out alive. Robyn knew she shouldn't be negative.

She'd left her phone on her pillow, and she checked it now for a missed call. Nothing. Yawing, the ginger sat up and stretched her arms over her head as far as they would go. The tent wasn't quite high. Robyn grabbed her hair and held it in a bunch as, deftly, she worked it into a bun with an old hair tie. She'd been dressed in sweatpants and two hoodies since last night. Over that, Robyn had had a blanket, but now that the sun was shining into the tent, it felt much warmer than the night before. Out of habit, she hummed a tune under her breath while pulling sneakers on over her socks. Beverly had once yelled at Robyn for humming in the morning, so she'd stopped. As soon as she stopped, the blonde began to complain about how quiet it was in the mornings. She never complained about the humming again.
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She pushed herself through the tent flap and cringed at the cold. The double sweatshirts certainly didn't help fight the cold as much as she thought they would.

"Good morning, fellow campers," she said in a chipper morning, followed by another yawn. It was a very light, happy greeting, but everyone in the camp knew the circumstances were far from light or happy. "Everyone sleep well?" She looked over all of the "campers" and smiled broadly. She'd known them only a few weeks at most, but they were already her family in so many ways. She pushed a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun back behind her ear. She chewed lightly at the inside of her cheek. "I was thinking we'd head out in a few hours. I think we all want to get away from this weather."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chloe Simmons Character Portrait: Rasul Hendricks Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Robyn Dempsey Character Portrait: Cyan Kress Character Portrait: William Andrews
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Nate chuckled to himself at Art's response. "You flatter me," he remarked, winking at her. They were flirting emptily, both of them knew it. Yet, he'd be lying if he said he didn't truly enjoy these interactions. Art could be unbearably optimistic at times, but he found it hard to bear any ill will toward her. His wife had been the same way, and he'd been the same way before his injury. No one, it seemed, could really say they hated her and mean it. It would certainly be nice to have such a relationship with the others, he mused, but Nate knew that he had to keep up the harsh exterior he'd adopted. At least he felt it let the others know he was a force to be reckoned with, not an injured war veteran.

"At least twice a year for the past six years. Dance competitions and whatnot." Nate nodded and crouched down to tie his shoes tighter. It seemed impossible in this weather to imagine the warm, summer air or the feel of the waves pushing and pulling at him. It all just felt so surreal-- was he really never going to spend a lazy day on the beach again? How could he, really, with an army of the undead around every corner? "It's one hell of a place to grow up in," he replied, though a bit softer than he'd spoken before. "Damn I miss it." He wasn't quite sure if Art had heard him, for she then acknowledged Cyan, who almost dropped his orange. He struggled to keep himself from chuckling at the boy's misfortune. Eventually, he failed, and a sly smirk played on his lips. Turning away, Nate opened the back of his car and began stuffing bullets and knives and pistols into a backpack.

The world nowadays was too quiet for his liking. It wasn't that he liked the commotion; he certainly didn't enjoy it at all. The silence, however, greatly contrasted the constant babble on heard in New York, no matter what time of day it was. Just as he'd been getting used to it, the country (or, perhaps, the world) fell silent. The silence was unnerving, too. Small sounds felt amplified, and there were nights when he woke with a start to the sound of Oakley barking softly in her sleep or another group member weaving between the hoard of tents.

So, how'd you boys sleep?" Nate shoved a few granola bars into the bag and then closed the hatch. As he looked toward Art, his gaze lingered on Cyan, eyes quickly looking the boy over as if inspecting him, even though they'd been in the group together for a while-- or, actually, two weeks. Time moved slowly in the apocalypse, however. "Like a baby." He was lying. He couldn't be the only one who still slept uneasily. How could he sleep soundly? Two of his children were missing, and he'd seen the other one die in his arms after he'd killed his own parents. These thoughts came to Nate in the middle of the night, plaguing his mind. If only, if only. "And, uh, you? How'd you sleep?" Before she could answer, the group grew in size with the addition of Chloe.

"Morning, guys, Sorry if I'm interrupting. How are you guys?" Nate leaned up against his car and nodded to the young woman, forcing up whatever remnant of a smile he could. This day certainly wasn't starting off well for him.

"Morning to you, too." He crossed his arms over his chest, cutting the word SOCCER in half, length-ways. "Relatively well." He smiled briefly at his own joke. How could one be okay when every turn brought on the threat of brain-munching, shuffling zombies? Rasul, the computer one as Nate remembered him by, was the next to wake. He was peppy that morning, too peppy, and Nathan rolled his eyes with little subtlety. He wasn't sure what it was, but his earlier mood seemed to have suddenly left him. Perhaps it was the recollection of his past life, or the memory of his daughter dying. Whatever it was, he was angrier than before.
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"Hey everybody..." said a voice from the edge of the group. Nathan looked up as he loaded his rifle and pistols. A sly smirk crossed his lips, coupled by a brief laugh. The younger man outranked him, he was aware of that, but he had far more experience than the Lieutenant.

"Morning, Lieutenant," he replied, slinging his backpack over a single shoulder. "You ready to head out soon for a quick hunt?" He cocked an eyebrow slightly, head tilting to the side like a curious dog's. As he started to get ready to leave, Oakley jumped to her paws and moved to his side, tail wagging back and forth.

He was too busy taunting the younger man, he almost failed to hear Robyn. As he caught her last few words, he turned his head around. Like the rest of the group, Nate viewed the woman, who was only ten or so years his senior, as a motherly figure. His mother, being an active lawyer throughout his childhood, hadn't been much of a mother at all. Robyn was different. She was nurturing and caring. Nate found it difficult to find anything wrong with the woman at all. His wife had once been that loving and tender, but she'd grown distant as he grew bitter with resentment. She was the only one, he felt, that he could be open with. She understood, or at least she tried to understand. He wouldn't say any of this out loud, of course.

That seemed to be Robyn's only flaw, perhaps. She was too open, too soft at times. She wasn't adamant about her opinions, she merely suggested and waited for the others to come to a consensus which, more often than not, was the same as what she'd suggested. He knew moving South was the best decision, but if the others didn't agree, would Robyn have merely let the group stay here to freeze to death? The group needed a tough leader, and while Robyn was greatly respected by each and every group member, Nate certainly couldn't help but feel that she couldn't fill this role. Again, he couldn't say this. He couldn't turn them against him already. Instead, he muttered an obvious observation. "Damn, it's cold. What I wouldn't give for a warm shower and some heat..."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chloe Simmons Character Portrait: Rasul Hendricks Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Robyn Dempsey Character Portrait: Cyan Kress Character Portrait: William Andrews
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Chloe felt herself brighten a little at Cyan's welcoming smile and offered a bigger one for him. She even managed a smile for Nathan. She would never admit it out loud, but the man actually intimidated her. Could you blame her? She was the suburban child with no experience in the field and a childhood filled with nothing but happiness save for the constant parental verbal disagreements. With Nathan Durand, Chloe was pretty sure it was the complete opposite.

Another inquiry was just at the tip of her tongue, but then Rasul came out with all of his happiness and energy and just not what Chloe needed to hear first thing in the morning. Which sucked because she used to be able to say she was as energetic as he was. She offered him a nod and a smile for the morning before clutching the sweater she was wearing to her body; it was loose enough on her slender arms that she could hide her hands within the confines of the sleeves.

Next came William. Chloe didn't think he liked them. In fact, she knew he didn't. He just gave off that vibe. Not like it intimidated her or anything. In all actuality, she found William...interesting to say the least. He wasn't mean to say the least, but he wasn't the most inviting person in the group - and was this an army/navy/military thing...the whole, I'm-unapproachable-and-you-are-all-not-on-my-level or was she just paranoid?

No, just babbling in my head.

"Good morning, William," she offered with a polite smile and an accompanying wave in his direction.

Not a few seconds later and Robyn was emerging from her tent. Chloe would not hesitate in admitting this, but she was kind of in admiration over Robyn; not just because she was a decent leader and appealed to everyone, but because Robyn was open. Chloe had met several other people within the group that were open, but Robyn just reminded Chloe of her mom and that always left a warm, bittersweet feeling in her chest. Shaking herself out of it, she heard the last bit of what Robyn said and walked over to the older woman.

One of the things she hated was that she wasn't exactly build for this kind of thing. Killing zombies, going after objects needed for the camp while trying not to die - none of things were on the list for things Chloe Simmons could do. However, there was one thing she could do that not many could do better.

Computers.

"Actually, if you're alright with that - I'm just assuming you will be because, let's be real, this is kinda still helpful despite the apocalypse and zombies and the grrrr -" Her hands tended to like to get involved when she spoke, especially when she was a tad bit nervous, and they actually did this little dinasour impersonation when she gave a growl. "But I could probably, ya know, check Facebook or any other social media website. Not because I wanna check mine or anything - why would I wanna do that when we're trying not to get eaten alive? - but because..." She really needed to stop babbling. "Teenagers. Even through any catastrophic event, teenagers will be the most likely to post statuses. I can track the latest ones in the South and see if, ya know, it's safe - or what part of it is safe because nowhere is safe at this point. And then we can head in that direction."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chloe Simmons Character Portrait: Rasul Hendricks Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Robyn Dempsey Character Portrait: Cyan Kress Character Portrait: William Andrews
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"Morning, Lieutenant," William heard a voice answer. He turned to see the ex-Sargent to be the owner of the voice. "You ready to head out soon for a quick hunt?" the older man said in taunting tone. William really wasn't sure what to make of the ex-soldier, he didn't really get a bad vibe off of him, yet something felt sort of...off.

"Good morning, William," it was the IT girl this time. Before he could have a chance to reply, the group "leader" made her appearance.

"Good morning, fellow campers," she announced. "Everyone sleep well?" she asked with a smile on her face. "I was thinking we'd head out in a few hours. I think we all want to get away from this weather." Although William had to agree on this statement, he didn't completely understand why this women was the "leader" of the group.

In his opinion, it would be much more appropriate for him, or at least that ex-NCO to lead the group. Nevertheless... he thought. I guess I could continue to play it there way, at least for the time being... William couldn't help but think about the need of getting someone on his side. He was already in good relations with Corren, but he knew that when it came to it, Corren would sell him out at a seconds notice.

Maybe it would be a good idea to get on that veteran's good side... Yeah I'll be ready to hunt, just give me a few minutes. William replied to the veteran. He went back inside his tent to grab his Winchester and some ammo, he strapped a holster onto his hip, and slipped a pistol inside of it. He also put on his body armor under a warm winter jacket. Before he left the tent, he shook Corren awake. Your gonna get left behind if you don't get up soon. he said leaving the tent.

He walked back to the group loading the rifle. The Winchester felt familiar and natural in his hands. William remembered the times he'd went hunting along with his father with the weapon. It held seven shots, was operated by a smooth lever, and had an effective range of around 200 yards. Given to a marksman like him, factoring in that it was an obsolete military weapon, he would still be able to do considerable damage with it.

”I’m ready, but wait up for Corren, he should be ready soon.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chloe Simmons Character Portrait: Rasul Hendricks Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Robyn Dempsey Character Portrait: Cyan Kress Character Portrait: William Andrews
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#, as written by Vix
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Nathan and Cyan both expressed that they had slept relatively well, though Art was sure Cy was lying. The insomniac could hear Minnie chatting her head off in a one-sided conversation through most of the night. If there was an aggressive bone in her body Art might have gone and kicked the girl. Okay, probably not. But she would have thrown a shoe at the tent or yelled at the younger girl. Or something. But she didn't. She just ignored her and drowned her out by watching An American In Paris. Art would have gladly invited Cyan to watch with them but then she'd have to invite Minnie too and the last time she watched a movie with Minnie, the girl still wouldn't shut up. She was that one friend you never wanted to go to the movies with. She was a nice girl, definitely. But Art didn't really want to spend too much time around her. Talkative people tended to be people who liked to know things and Art did her best to keep many things about her private.

ImageBefore she could launch into conversation with Nathan and Cyan, it seemed as though everyone decided that it was time to get up – Not that she was complaining. She greeted Chloe with a wave, standing up and preparing to give the other member of the nerd herd [as Art liked to call their little faction within the group] when Rasul made towards her. She had opened her arms as well and was turning to give him a hug... But he veered away and she caught air. It didn't matter how many times he did it, she was probably always going to fall for it. Her face turned red as he came back and gave her the hug she had been expecting [and so rightfully deserved] and she hugged him back with enthusiasm. He was the only other person in the group that she could count on to remain optimistic with her. "And a good morning to everyone else present, Cyan you beautiful bastard, I would stay but I need to go fix the mustang real quick. I just need Art's rogue unlocked so I can get my tools. Pretty please?" Rasul's big brown eyes were pleading and wide, but the sparkle in them was playful.

“Oye, chico. Try not to wake up the kids.” She smiled as she tossed him the keys after fishing them from the safest place a woman could ever stash anything: Right between her breasts. “Don't sniff my keys this time, crazy.” She chucked her keys at him with a friendly grin before returning to her apple. Her gaze followed Chloe's for a moment as William approached and she had the same thoughts. Almost. Creeper. She didn't dislike William. She didn't know him well enough to pass judgment. Which was why he was a creeper. Anybody who didn't want to get to know her was automatically a creeper as far as she was concerned because she was absolutely fabulous. Still, she offered him a polite wave, though no fruit. No fruit for yooou. Her inner voice was really creepy, as she noted to herself while carrying out an internal dialogue. With herself. She wasn't crazy, just animated.

“We should try to stop around a town. Food's running low and winter's going to make it harder to get organics.” And by organics, she meant deer that Nathan and the others had to shoot in the face and grapes she had to go pick. The wasn't sure that cattail soup was going to go over well with the gang when bologna was still an option. Even though she wouldn't touch bologna with a ten foot pole. Nathan used to grouch at her for being a picky eater and not wanting any of his gross Captain Crunch cereal. Yeah. She'd eat that junk just as soon as she choke down smoke from a cigarette. As everyone else seemed to be doing their own thing, she pursed her lips together and puffed up her cheeks. “I'm going to hunt too. Not really. Kela will. I need to get more plant stuffs.” She didn't intend on tagging along behind any of the three men hunting. Per usual, she was going to go her own way so she didn't bother them.

With her mind made up and nobody in the position to stop her, she was gone. Of course, she had emptied her basket of dwindling fruits onto a blanket someone had left out the previous night. She was determined as she made her way towards the tree line, further and further away from her group. Knife? Just a small pocket knife. Gun? Right. She had a gun. The one thing that she had going for her was that she was faster than the others and more stamina. Dancers - They're freakin' awesome. So maybe she couldn't shoot a bulky gun or have the stomach to jab a knife into the decaying brains of a walking, rotting corpse. But man could she run. Kela was padding alongside her. Art actually really enjoyed going hunting with Kela. She used to take pictures of the large dog taking down deer. Absolute elegance. But she didn't have much time for that anymore and she didn't really think anyone else in the group besides herself and Cyan would really appreciate the artistic nature of it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chloe Simmons Character Portrait: Rasul Hendricks Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Robyn Dempsey Character Portrait: Cyan Kress Character Portrait: William Andrews
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Shortly after Chloe arrived to their little morning meeting, everyone, save a few straggling souls, seemed to wake at once. Raz was the next to join in, as bubbly and over-the-top as ever, syke-ing Art out of a hug to show affections to her hound. Cyan couldn't help but chuckle, though Art didn't look too pleased with the joke until Rasul gave her the hug she had been offering, "And a good morning to everyone else present, Cyan you beautiful bastard, I would stay but I need to go fix the mustang real quick." Cyan rolled his eyes at the comment in an comically-over-dramatic nature, fishing into his pocket to find his notepad, planning to offer his assistance with the mustang if needed. That was the plan anyway, had it not been for the appearance of the others distracting him, leaving him standing there stupidly, notepad half-out of his pocket.

Image "Hey, everybody." Cyan wrinkled his nose at the appearance of the Lieutenant, coming up from behind Chloe to say his morning greetings. The mute held William in the same regard as he held Nate, not with dislike, but with caution and avoidance. Old habits die hard, what can you do? Though, Cyan had to admit he got a weird vibe from the military men, but that could easily be written off as his own paranoia, which wasn't few and far between as the world gets weirder by the day.

Cyan pulled at the drawstrings of his hood, tightening it about his face, the cold really becoming too much for his little southern soul. Decaying corpses that waltz around in the daylight like its completely normal? Death waiting at every door, around every corner, and ready to jump down on you from above? He could handle that. That was totally okay with Cyan, 'And actually a tad bit awesome...' Somewhere in the back of his mind, his little inner Jiminy Cricket chimed in, at maybe an unnecessary time. Only at the appearance of the mom of the group (Or, at least, Cyan liked to think of her that way.) announcing that she wanted the group to head south was the sweetest sound the mute had ever heard. He had the sudden urge to hug the wonderful red-haired woman. Had he been as outgoing as Ras, maybe he would have, but awkward tendencies got the best of him and he settled with nodding enthusiastically at Robyn's suggestion.

Though, Art did have a point. It will take awhile to get to warmer weather from here, even if they still had cars, it doesn't mean that there aren't going to be things to slow them down. Things like blocked roads and large amounts of Zombs should be taken into account. Hunting and gathering is great, but it just really isn't going to work once it gets too cold, all the fuzzy things going to catch some major Z's and the plants freezing over. Plus, as the rest had suggested, the ones in the group who can hunt should be getting at it while they still could, while the ones who can't should probably make themselves useful elsewhere. Cyan fit in the latter category.

Making his decision, he yanked his notepad all the way out of his pocket, snatching his pencil from behind his ear, and scribbling something down. When he was finished, he held it up to be read, to really no one in particular.

His handwriting was sloppy, written in all capitals and slanting to the point where it looked like the words were trying to run right off the page, but at least it was legible. 'I could go into town while you all go hunting. Pick up some stuff.' Cyan cocked his head to the side, indicating it was more of a suggestion than a definite statement. As an afterthought, he added, 'Need anything in particular?'

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Character Portrait: Chloe Simmons Character Portrait: Rasul Hendricks Character Portrait: Art Character Portrait: Nathan Durand Character Portrait: Robyn Dempsey Character Portrait: William Andrews
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Nathan waited briefly for a response out of the younger soldier, but it never came because of Robyn's appearance from her tent. He really didn't mind, of course, for he probably wouldn't have given the younger man much of his time anyway. He grabbed the box of cereal and poured some into the front pocket. Perhaps it would lure in an animal. Regardless, he knew that leaving it in the box would create too much noise. Silence was his friend as many of the animals he'd be hunting were snuggling up for the winter. Soon, he knew, he'd be unable to find enough food to last them more than a day or two at a time.

As the others told Robyn how they'd contribute before moving out, Nate opened his car and pulled out a pair of brown work boots. Once, they'd been light and the laces had yellow flecks on a field of black. Now, however, the fawnish brown had turned muddy with the moist forests he'd trekked through. Before the world went to shit, he might have been angry over this. Now, however, was no time for fashion. Perhaps he'd find a back-up pair next time they drove through a town. As he pulled the boots on over his thick, calf-length socks, Nathan chewed absentmindedly on a piece of orange until it was no more. Nate tied them on tightly. It certainly wouldn't be good if he twisted his ankle now. Oakley, meanwhile, paced eagerly around his backpack.
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"Yeah, I'll be ready to hunt. Just give me a few minutes."

"Not a problem, kiddo." Nate said to the younger man as the Lieutenant ducked back in his tent. He personally set the Winchester Model 70 against the car and stuffed the knife he'd used earlier in his backpack, which held numerous rounds of ammo, a Nalgene bottle, and some granola bars. He still had the pistol in the waistband of his pants, but how he pulled it out and tossed it in the backpack. Couldn't risk losing that if he had to run. Finally, he zipped up the backpack and pulled on an L.L. Bean fleece jacket his mother had gotten some Christmas for him years ago. Slinging the backpack on, Nathan grabbed his gun and sighed as the Lieutenant emerged from his tent and requested they wait for the other soldier. Quickly, he shook his head. "I'm not waiting for him. He should get his ass up with the rest of us." He gave Oakley a pat on the head. "We'll head out before you. Catch up when your buddy's awake...or, just let him catch up to us."

Nate looked back to the others just as Art was leaving. "Wait-," he began to say, trying to ask if she wanted to come along with him. He worried about her going out alone. Out of the group, it was really only her and Robyn who seemed the least bit friendly around him. Perhaps that was why he was fond of the young woman. She reminded him of what his wife had been like before his injury had torn them apart. Actually, though he wouldn't admit it, she merely reminded him of what he'd wished Wendy was like. She was bubbly, of course, but only for a while. Wendy was bubbly in the way most high school girls, high on life, are. In truth, he hardly knew the woman who bore his children. But Art was the spitting image of what he thought Wendy was like, so he was oddly possessive of the young girl in a way that wasn't romantic per say. He watched the girl and her dog disappear with a sigh. Well, maybe he'd follow her at least.

As he moved away from the camp, Nate stopped to give Robyn a tight, one armed hug that lasted a few seconds. In turn, she hugged him back. With one quick glance back at the young soldier to see if he was coming, Nate ventured into the woods with Oakley at his feet. Both figures cautiously tread over the leaves, senses heightened by the rush hunting brought. Man and beast moved similarly through the brush, on the look out for movement.

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"Not a problem, kiddo."

William fumed at the older man's response. "Kiddo? Kiddo? An NCO does not simply just call a COMMISSIONED OFFICER of the US Army kiddo. Much less an EX-NCO." And even worse, his other response to William's request to wait for Corren.

"I'm not waiting for him. He should get his ass up with the rest of us." Before William had a chance to respond to THAT, the man just plain left all-together. "We'll head out before you. Catch up when your buddy's awake...or, just let him catch up to us." William just stood there for a second, stunned at the amount of disrespect he had just received. Even though he didn't have a platoon to command, or a commander to take commands from, he was still 2nd Lt. Andrews of the 17th infantry battalion-Charlie company-2nd platoon. He deserved the respect and the authority of a CO in the US army. When he snapped out of it, William called for the one responsible for his waiting.

"Corren let's move!" His shout was hastily replied to.

"Alright, alright! I'm almost ready! Shortly after, Corren burst out of his tent still putting on his jacket. The two quickly made there way towards the direction in which the former NCO had went. William secured the lever on his Winchester and strapped on his US military issue helmet. "Just like training" he thought.

A little while into the two men's trek, William realized that Corren had come relatively unprepared. The man's rush to be ready for the hunt had left the consequence of an unprepared hunter. "Corren," William inquired. "Did you even bring a weapon?"

"'course I did." the other man replied brandishing his .357 magnum.

"Well, at least he didn't forget that. " "How many rounds? Corren rummaged around in his pockets for a while.

"About 20 extra." William sighed. He knew if they were to encounter some real trouble, that would not be enough. As the two continued to try to catch up to the senior hunter, they grew more aware of the sounds around them. A herd of undead would be very dangerous in this position.

Suddenly, William caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. His index finger instinctively tightened around the trigger and he brang the weapon to his shoulder, scanning the radius of the area in which the movement had come from. Corren also got the idea and brang his hand-cannon to a firing position, pulling back the hammer. William again caught the movement, this time really seeing the object. It seemed to be human, but only seemed. (OOC: Nathan)

William decided to take the risk of offering surrender to the...thing. If it was human, they might've found another survivor, but if it was a zombie, then things could get complicated. "This is Second Lieutenant William D. Andrews of the United States Army. Drop any weapons you may have and keep your hands where I can see them. I repeat, I am not alone, and we will open fire if you decide not to cooperate." The military officer controlled his breathing to steady his heart and aligned his sights. Even Corren followed suite. If the thing was a zombie or uncooperative human, it would be killed before it had a chance to do anything.

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Art had been too far ahead to hear Nate call out for her, stepping carefully and beat boxing to herself, throwing in a few random lyrics here and there, freestyling to no one but herself. Her voice faded in and out as she bobbed her head, pausing every now and then to stoop down and pick up some mushrooms or wild blackberries, tossing them into her basket. Kela ran ahead of her, happy to be out of the cramped space of the Rogue. Despite the world having ended, Art had to admit that it brought about peace. She didn't really miss the constant sounds of honking horns, yelling people, and airplanes overhead. “Hey, Kela. Slow down!” The woman glanced up to see her dog slowly fading from sight, assuming she had found a rabbit or something.

She knew that Kela would come back once she gave up or caught it, but the idea of being out in the woods all alone freaked her out. Especially with the fog and three men with guns running around. Of course they – Or at least Nate – wouldn't shoot her on purpose, but there was always the chance of an accident. Frowning, she went further in after her dog until she came upon a stream. That was nice. That meant grapes! It didn't take her hazel-green eyes long to spot fat purple grapes growing on a vine that was creeping up a rusted old fence. Humming to herself, she waded across the shallow stream for the harvest, keeping her ears open for any crunching twigs and leaves. “Still can't decide if this is better than stripping,” she spoke aloud to herself, using her knife to cut the grape bunches from their vines.


“Used to dance naked just to get by but now I'm fighting zombies just to stay alive.
Joined up with Robyn and a bunch of others, working hard and looking out for each other.
From Broadway to the highway, living in a car.
The world is dead and my mind is scarred.
But I've got an open heart and an open mind and friends by my side until the day that I die.
And we'll make it together, not one person left behind.
Except maybe Will because we don't know how he is aligned.
With Robyn so beautiful and so brave, a mother pushing us to survive each day.
Ras makes us laugh with his crazy personality, got that beautiful mind, a geek mentality.
Cy can't talk but that doesn't matter, he's a real cool kid with no need for the chatter.
Chloe, oh Chloe. That's a real smart girl. Going to raise some geniuses when we rebuild this world.
Minnie...The girl can't shut up.
Then there's Nate -”


Art had heard crunching leaves behind her and paused, brandishing her knife with a light frown.

"What about Nate?"

A voice sounded from the brush and Art gave a light smile, letting herself relax as Nate called out in question. The first shape to emerge was that of Oakley. She darted from a clump of bushes, creating a blur of brick-colored fur that stopped suddenly in the center of the clearing as the dog sniffed around cautiously. Her gaze focused on Art, and she pinned her ears against the back of her head. However, she didn't growl or bark. She merely watched the woman who had been previously rapping. Nate, meanwhile, began to relax slightly as he walked since Art already knew he was behind her. Though he'd been cautious to avoid leaves and twigs before hand, the ex-soldier stepped on them quite frivolously now. Smug smirk evident as he entered the clearing, Nathan slung his gun over his shoulder and patted his thigh to call Oakley over. Reluctantly, she turned away from Art and padded toward her owner.

“Then's there Nate, so silent and brave, always the hero to save the day. He's got a smile that lights up my world and a body so fine, I'd love to give it a whirl, making this chica swoon and sending her over the moon, our passion like a monsoon and all I wanna do is spoon.” Her words came out quickly with her Cuban accent becoming thicker by the second as she gave him a smile, resuming the flirting that they had started earlier that morning. She ended with a light bow, blowing kisses to an imaginary audience before giving a bashful laugh.

"Damn, girl." Nate laughed softly, winking back at her. "I didn't know you rapped," he remarked, making an expression of mock surprise only for Art to stick her tongue out at him. "What other talents have you been hiding from us?" He took the gun down from where it balanced on his shoulder in a cocky manner and held it in both hands, subconsciously caressing the barrel with his thumb. The young woman simply rolled her eyes and dusted her hands off, leaving her basket where it sat on the ground. She had already gotten all the grapes from the vine. Amusement and mischief twinkled in her eyes as she moved towards Nate until they stood hardly a foot apart, she having to look up due to her lack of numbers in the height department.

“I can't let you know all my secrets, papi. Then there would be no mystery to keep you coming back. And then what would be so special about me?”, she teased, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. Nate rolled his eyes and forced back a laugh as he nudged her with his elbow gently. “Anyways – Why are you following me?” Nate gave a shrug and looked back over his shoulder toward where he had come.

"Well, y'know, I needed somebody to clear the woods of zombies for me," he replied, shrugging. "It's hard to shoot something when the ranks of the undead are all pursuing it." He was being sarcastic, obviously, but he couldn't tell if Art realized he was following her to watch over her. She was probably capable of holding her own, but better safe that sorry. She merely rolled her eyes at him and pushed him on his shoulder again. “Where's Chump and Creeper? I thought you were hunting with them.”

"Do I get a creative nickname, too?" he inquired, eyebrow quirking subtly.

“I don't know. I figured I'd just call you babe.” She batted her eyelashes and bit her bottom lip in a suggestive manner as she leaned against him and looked up at him playfully. "Cute." He dramatically rolled his eyes, though he certainly wasn't upset about the nickname. "But yeah, those two are back at camp, probably, or coming this way. I took the lead."

“Oh...joy.”, she muttered under her breath. Quality time with the two smokers, should they be following.

"Jeez, don't get too excited," he teased. He wasn't overly enthusiastic either, but his only qualm with the Lieutenant was the fact that the younger soldier was a commissioned officer, whereas Nathan had merely enlisted. By rank, the Lieutenant was above him. However, he lacked any experience in the field. Jealousy could certainly be a bitch. He was proud of himself for talking back to the Second Lieutenant, but he was far too proud for his own good.

“Oh. Because you enjoy their company sooo much.” Art rolled her eyes as she let herself rest against Nate for a few more moments, looking around for Kela. Nate rolled his eyes briefly too. She was right, of course. Worry flashed across her face as she realized that she hadn't heard the hybrid dog for over ten minutes. She put her fingers between her lips and inhaled to let out a sharp whistle but was thrown off by the sound of helpless yelping that proceeded a gun shot. “Kela!” She immediately tore away from Nate and followed the sound, brandishing her knife as though she stood a chance with it against someone with a gun. She didn't care. He stood there for a moment, confused by the suddennes of it all. But, putting two and two together, Nate raced off after her with his gun raised and with Oakley nearby.

She just followed the sound of the yelping until she came across a man pointing a gun at Kela's head, ready to shoot her in the head. His leg was bleeding and there was a downed stag nearby. “Leave her alone!” She stooped over and picked up a rock, throwing it at the man and hitting him in the head. The man turned angrily towards her with his gun but his expression softened when he saw her and her own expression faltered. “Busty Bambi..? I mean..uh...Bambi?” He had lowered his gun now and Art's voice caught in her throat. Nate stopped a few paces behind Art and stopped, gun raised and aimed at the man's head. Oakley stopped and stood by their feet, ears back though she didn't snarl.

“You must have me confused for someone else.” She eventually found her voice, taking a step back and bumping into Nathan, though she still had her knife held outward and poised as though it were a gun despite the fact that the man – who had not confused her for someone else – had lowered his gun. “Oh, no. I'd recognize those legs and those tits and those eyes and that skin anywhere.” Did he have a checklist of things he remembered about people? Art groaned inwardly before sighing and giving up. Nate looked at Art with an expression of confusion. He didn't believe the man, for he had no idea Jackson was telling the truth in regards to Art. His grip tightened on the gun. “Why'd you shoot Kela, Jackson?” Her voice was angry now as she moved away from Nate and knelt down by Kela. Nate's expression changed from confusion to disbelief. He briefly glanced down at Art and then back at Jackson with the gun still raised. It was a close range shot and it had only grazed her, but she could tell it had still hurt the pup. She ripped off part of her own shirt and wrapped it tightly, tying it and using it as a makeshift bandage. Jackson gave his most apologetic look, though there was confusion in his eyes. “You've got a wolf?”

“She's only half wolf. She was hunting for me.”

“Oh. I didn't know... She took down the stag... But I haven't had any luck so I was just going to take it.” He looked away out of shame and Art still didn't meet his gaze as she helped her canine companion up, walking with her as she limped back towards Nate and Oakley. Now, Art was a hard person to push away. She's a people person. It's her thing. But it is highly possible for her to dislike people. And she didn't like Jackson. She didn't say anything though because he was the one with the gun in his hand. “You're traveling with your friend? And that's why she didn't like him, cringing as he asked the question. Nate flushed subtly as the man asked Art the question. Already, he disliked the man. Back when she worked at Olympus – a gentlemen's club – he was always there. Every night. And he always paid for her during her shift and nobody else. He bothered other girls, too. Only seven others and none of them had the same shift so there was no break from it all night. He was more handsy than the other customers, always offering them drinks and a ride home, asking them on dates, asking them to have sex in the bathroom. He creeped her out and she was quick to shoot him down. “Boyfriend.”, she lied smoothly. Nate's eyes widened almost comedically as he looked down to Art and then back at Jackson. That was certainly one way to get the creeper off of her back.

Jackson immediately looked disappointed but he gave a smile. “That's good. Well, I should get back to my group. Sorry for shooting your dog.” Intimidated by Nate, he immediately began to leave, not offering for them to join his group. Vying for the last word, Nate smirked as the man left. "Creep," he remarked, slowly lowering his gun by his hip. "Is Kela okay?" He continued to watch the man, occasionally glancing toward Art and her dog. “She'll be fine. I've just got to get her back to camp and get some bai ji to stop the bleeding.” The woman frowned as she knelt down to check Kela's leg once more, glad that the bleeding wasn't excessive enough to have made it through the acting bandage. Her arm was getting cold and sending a chill through the rest of her body, but she was fine as long as Kela was. She stood and sighed, as it seemed to be one of her new hobbies since the world had ended, wrapping her arms around Nate tightly. “Thanks for playing along... Jackson's a dick.... And please don't tell anyone about that.” Nate raised his gun in the air as Art quickly hugged him. Slowly, he wrapped a single arm around her and embraced her in return.

"Yeah, not a problem," he replied, looking down at her. "Your secret's safe with me." Internally, however, Nate was still recovering from the intial surprise. He hadn't expected Art to be a billionare businesswoman or anything like that, but he was still shocked by the revelation. Would she have told any of them? Probably not, just like Nate wouldn't mention his relationship issues before the apocalypse. But, besides the shock, he subconsciously couldn't help but feel...disappointment? He didn't want to admit it verbally or mentally, but he couldn't but feel ever so slightly upset at the fact that it was all a facade. He should have realized that, of course, she was using a fake relationship to get Jackson away. Still, he couldn't help but wish that perhaps it wasn't all a facade. Internally, he scoffed. Was he really going to start getting soft now during the apocalypse? No, he had to stay strong. Perhaps it was better that their "relationship" was made up.

“It wasn't a glamorous life. But I wasn't hooking or doing drugs. It paid the bills though. But that doesn't mean I'm any less of a good or respectable person than anyone else. Besides. I only worked ten days out of the month.” She gave a light frown, aware of the conversations that usually followed the revelation of her previous occupation. She valued the opinions of others in the group and she didn't want them thinking any less of her. She couldn't handle being a pariah. Nate simply nodded in response. He might have responsed, but then they heard another voice which the ex-Sergeant quickly recognized.

"This is Second Lieutenant William D. Andrews of the United States Army. Drop any weapons you may have and keep your hands where I can see them. I repeat, I am not alone, and we will open fire if you decide not to cooperate." Nate quickly looked toward the source of the sound as he slowly let go of Art. Keeping himself in front of her, he moved toward the younger man with his arms up slightly.

"Whoa, Lieutenant," he replied. "At ease. It's just me and Art. No zombies." Art moved behind Nate, keeping Kela close as she crinkled her nose at the sound of Will calling out. “Shut up, Will! You're not the boss of anybody anymore.” Art was in a foul mood - Between her dog being shot, Nate finding out about her previously being a stripper, and just seeing Jackson's face had ruined her happiness for a while. She'd have to cheer up before she got back though.

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His finger tightened on the trigger. "Would the person surrender? Would he resist? Does he have a fire-arm?" all of these thoughts ran through William's mind as he watched and listened. "Oh no..." he had overlooked one very important factor. "If I shoot, then it may attract zombies. And with Corren on such low ammunition..." William just stayed stock still, hoping that the stranger would cooperate.

"Whoa, Lieutenant, at ease. It's just me and Art. No zombies." William just stood there for a moment, un-moving.

"Wait...what? 'It's just me and Art...'" And as quickly as he had pondered the thought, the realization of the statement hit him. Not far from where William was standing, Corren relaxed as he allowed his magnum to rest against his side.

"“Shut up, Will! You're not the boss of anybody anymore.” William could feel his anger boil.

"Just because I don't have any troops under my command...does NOT mean that I no longer hold the authority of an officer in the United States Army 'ma'am.'" To make matters worse, he could hear the Corren's laughter to Art's response. William felt himself grip his rifle so hard that it began to tremble. He quickly lowered it before he called back to Nathan and Art.

"Please accept my apologie, I'm sure we're all a bit...paranoid with the events at hand." Quickly turning to take a look at Corren, he gave him a piercing stare to silence his laughter. Which was at this point, still all to audible. "So Durand," William said, approaching the two. "I'm sure that if there isn't anything that you must tell me, we may continue our 'hunt.'

Adjusting the position of his helmet, his mind traveled on it's own. "Art...she doesn't seem to like me too much. But then again, does anyone in our little 'group?' I must find a way to get back into contact with the army...no matter what the cost. The army is where my survival lies. If I get back with the Army, then I live."

"And by the way, Corren seems to have an insufficient amount of ammunition at the moment. Thought that you may want to know."

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The sigh of relief that escaped Nate's lips was quite obvious. His chest deflated as the situation calmed and the tension began to dissipate. As Corren's magnum lowered, Nathan lowered his hands and smiled quickly in the cocky way of his. He reached into his pocket casually and pulled out a pack of Trident spearmint gum. As the sergeant started to chew the stick of gum he popped into his mouth, he opened his mouth and planned to ease the situation with a typical, snarky remark. Art beat him to it, though her words didn't really ease the situation at all.
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"Shut up, Will! You're not the boss of anybody anymore." Nate shifted his position, making sure he was still in front of the young woman. He had no idea how Will would react, though he knew the young soldier had a temper that could easily match Nate's. As Corren laughed, Nate gave the man a quick, forced smile. He also certainly didn't want to upset either of the men with guns readily available. His Winchester hung on a back holster. The Desert Eagle occupied space in his backpack.

"Please accept my apology, I'm sure we're all a bit...paranoid with the events at hand." Nate smiled a bit more genuinely, though not too genuinely. He wasn't the most qualified liar. "So Durand, I'm sure that if there isn't anything that you must tell me, we may continue our 'hunt'."

"Accepted." Dwelling on the subject would not make anything better. As Will approached, he found himself slowly pulling the Winchester from its holster and holding it across his abdomen, ready. He glanced briefly back at Art, making sure she was still in place and not off reuniting with more clients. "Some creep shot Kela. It took some persuading, but the bastard ran back to his group." He gestured to the gun he held. Will certainly didn't need to know that Nate had stood there dumbfounded most of the time, unsure how to react to being called Art's boyfriend. "I'd suggest we trail him, but I don't know how large his group is." He looked to Art, turning his back on Will. "Do you want to come with us or head back to camp?" Whether or not she came with them, Nate nodded toward the woods before them and held his gun closer to his chest as he moved out, chewing his gum, Oakley on his heels.

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Art listened to the men talk, watching as Nathan moved into a protective position between her and the two others as guns were at the ready. A minor action in the eyes of others, maybe, but it brought a smile to her face. Even though she thought it was a stupid move. Logically speaking, he was far more important to the group than she was. She didn't view herself as much of a loss but she was touched to think that perhaps Nate might like to keep her around. He could be a bit surly and distant at times and she would often wonder if he even liked being in their group. But there were more than enough tender moments that assured her that he didn't mind so much. She tuned out part of their conversation, looking over her shoulder instead as one hand rested on Kela's head. God forbid that Jackson returned with thugs. But being addressed snapped her back to attention and she gave a slightly confused expression before realizing what was being asked of her. Politely but quickly, she shook her head. “No. But thanks. I'd just slow you guys down and be utterly useless. I still need to gather more plants and see if I can find more wild grapes. And get Kela back to treat her leg.”

ImageShe gave Nate a look as if to say forgive me before looking to a whining Kela and shushing her gently. “Try to not get shot, babe,” she teased in a friendly manner, calling him by the nickname she had previously promised to him. With a final smile, she young woman picked up the large dog and lumbered away, heaving under the weight. She didn't want the canine putting too much pressure on her leg and making anything worse. She prayed silently as she left the males' line of sight that none of them ran into Jackson or anyone else, picking up her basket of grapes. Her first priority was now getting Kela treated. There were enough grapes in the basket to make everyone happy and not to mention a supply run was probably already in progress.

It took her a while but she finally made it back to the safety of the camp with Kela in tow. Minnie was there chatting it up with the kids and munching on some apples and poptarts. They attempted to engage conversation with her but she ignored them and headed to her Rogue, popping the trunk and setting Kela inside on top of one of the blankets. “I heard a gun shot! Are the other guys dead?! Are you okay? Is Kela okay? What's wrong?” Minnie's mouth was running a mile a minute and it was making Art cringe. Sighing as she leaned against her car to take a breather, she closed her eyes. “No. They aren't dead. Yes. I'm fine. Kela is fine. Please just...go.” She saw Josh and Izzy looking at her, peeking around the car. “Try not to eat them all.” She handed them the basket of grapes and shooed them away before glancing around. “Miss Robyn and Cyan went to go get supplies. Then Ras left to go salvage car parts and Chloe went with to get better signal. And Shiloh went hunting on her own after Corren and Will left.” As annoying as she was, Minnie's peppy nature was somewhat comforting.

“Right... Thanks.” Art all but mumbled to herself before setting to work on her friend's wounded leg. The dog whined as the makeshift bandage was removed. The wound was deep or too bad but Kela would definitely feel it for a while. Art got to disinfecting it, having to pause whenever Kela kicked and lashed out, howling something fierce.

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As Nathan enlightened him on the events at hand William quietly digested the information to himself. Apparently some other person of sorts, had met with them and shot Kela. "Who was that again?" William's thinking tract took a break as he pondered the thought. "Oh that's right, the dog."

"I'd suggest we trail him, but I don't know how large his group is." the junior officer considered the thought as some communication took place between Nathan and Art. The women left the three men, and they were left with nothing but the sound of thoughts lingering in the air.

After a few moments, the younger soldier made his decision. "I agree with you Durant, we can't be sure what that dangerous man may plan next. May as well make the move, rather then wait for the move to be made on us." It sounded cheesy, like something out of a movie, but it was the best he could come up with at the time.

The Lieutenant ran his hand down until it reached the holster of his Beretta M9. He removed it from it's holster and took a good look, examining it for any possible damage. "The only real weapon I've got left..." He thought back to when he still had his M16 rifle. Why had he left it behind again? It must have been out of ammunition, useless.
William snapped himself back to present time. He hadn't realized that he had spaced out. "I must have looked strange just staring at my pistol like that..." He holstered his handgun and turned his attention back to Nathan. His Winchester was loaded, his sidearm likewise. Gesturing with his arm he spoke "Lead the way."