0
followers
follow

Ryan Lockten

You say another word and I'm gonna shoot that jaw clean off your face. Then I'm going to take a shit in your chin hole.

0 · 153 views · located in London, England

a character in “Last of Us”, as played by Ἐνυώ

Description

| Ryan Lockten |


Image


Alias|(nickname) Butch
Sex| Female, Hope that's obvious....
Age| 32
Birthplace| Orlando, Florida
Current Location/Residence| Here and there. Moves constantly for military work.
Nationality| Greek I might be Greek, but I ain't no house wife.
Role| Discharged USMC


Height| Average of 5'6
Weight| 120
Frame/Build| Thin and Lean but muscular. Very athletic. I like my games.
Hair Color| Black with natural brown high lights.
Eye Color| Dark chocolate brown, looks black from a distance.
Complexion| a Creamy Tan.
Special Traits| A large scar that stretches from her navel to her left hip.
Image


Disabilities| Diagnosed with HSAN5 (Hereditary Sensory and Autonomic Neurophathy type 5) She cannot feel pain, temperature, or touch. If she falls and breaks her arm, no pain. She can't feel the sun on her face or the brisk bite from ice or snow. Brush your hand along her arm and she won't feel your skin on hers, just the pressure you are adding. It is a hard way of life but she has embraced it fully.


Personality| Ryan has been ruffed by two tours in Afghanistan and the death of her husband. She is very aggressive and blunt but has a soft spot for other Marines or military personal. Always sarcastic and to the point. She can be cocky and funny but won't make an effort to befriend anyone unless she sees fit. Ryan can be the definition of a bitch, but will always be around to support or have the back of the ones she respects. She loves the fact that she looks nothing like someone from the military. Always people to underestimate her, then prove them wrong. It's a game.

Strengths| Knowledge of Fire arms, Close hand combat, Combat Life Saver Force (Medical), Wings (Pilot License). She can keep calm during chaotic times.

Weaknesses|Sexy military men ;) And chocolate, like every other women. And alcohol, she was once a depression drinker. She is not great at any kind of throwing weapon, like knives of stars. Give me a man in a uniform and a beer and my life is over.

Quirks| She tends to bite her lip or chew the inside of her cheek when nervous. Rubs the back of her neck when anxious or frustrated.

Phobias/Fears| Ryan has barefoot phobia, hates walking barefoot anywhere except in sand like the beach. She fears her fathers might go M.I.A, AWOL, or K.I.A.


Likes|
-Guns
-Practicing hand to hand combat Plus a little grab ass here and there to make life interesting.
-Action & Zombie movies "You say another word and I'm gonna shoot that jaw clean off your face. Then I'm going to take a shit in your chin hole." Sherrif, Undead or Alive
-Cooking
-Dogs

Image

Dislikes|
-Whiny or bitchy men
-Liberals Damn hippies are fucking nuts.
-Alcohol
- Kandahar Afghanistan, where her husband died.
-Large crowds



Image
** Biography|


Ryan was born the daughter of a Marine and a Homeopathic mother (I.e.-Licorice root cures headaches while Advil murders the liver.) She has Hereditary Sensory and Autonomic Neuropathy type 5. She cannot feel pain, temperature, or touch. Resulting in a dangerous way of life. She was home schooled until tenth grade. She turned 18 and signed up for the OPD, Orlando Police Department, Where she became an active member of the force and took classes in hand to hand combat in her spare time. She hide her disorder, cursing in pain if something looked like it should of hurt. Hissed if something was cold and grunted if something was hot. Years of observing people who reacted to pain, temperatures, and touches gave her time to copy and try her best to fit in.

Ryan has been to school for children teaching about firearms. She was the Martial Arts teacher for her Marine base as well. Her grandfather taught her how to shoot the M-60 7.62mm MG in the CH-21, UH-34, and UH-1 helicopters, all Vietnam based, although she is able to accurately shoot the current models. She prefers the side door gun, not the tail since it is hard to maneuver. Being the door gunner, the helicopter is basically yours, you allow the pilot to fly it. You must know the mechanics of your aviation system, which Ryan enjoys fixing rotors and engines. At 24, Ryan took the Combat Life Saver Force, which is basic in-field medicine that is mandatory for the Corp.

Couple years later joined the Marine Corp. During the 8 months of Boot Camp she met her husband Corrigan. Both where deployed to Afghanistan. During an IED sweep, Corrigan stumbled upon one, killing him. Ryan stood next to him during the blast, which cost her 5 pound of metal and over 100 stitches to sew up her wound. She was sent to Rehabilitation for the movement of her left hip and leg, there she found out she was pregnant with a boy, but lost the child in a miscarriage due to stress. The military noticed her lack of reaction to pain and discharged her immediately. She became a heavy drinker to cope. Now years later she has stopped most drinking has been able to live a mostly normal day to day life.

My life is hard, my world smashed to shit. But I slapped on a Band-aid, pulled my helmet on and big girl panties and pulled my shit together. Ain't nobody got time for that.

So begins...

Ryan Lockten's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chris Miura Character Portrait: Lisa Maine Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Mei Feroinne Character Portrait: Rai McKray

0.00 INK

Kenleigh Smith

ImageClothes, Kenleigh needed clothes. One might think that was a stupid need when the human race was close to extinction, but it wasn’t, not for Kenleigh. All of her clothing was ripped or in tatters, covered in dirt. Hanging them out in the rain didn’t do much to help, either.
A year ago, everyone she loved was killed by a cruel, cruel disease. The dead filled the roads like a wicked reminder, decaying bones and rancid smells. At first, the smell of the dead almost caused Kenleigh herself to kill over, but after a year of decaying, the smell seemed to almost disappear. Almost.

Looking over to her right, the girl saw a rather creepy looking china doll. Its face was cracked in many places; a hole was in its left eye. A skeletal hand curled around the doll, gripping it for dear life, or maybe death.
Kenleigh touched the holster that held her pistol, long out of ammo, as she trudged on. One bullet sat in the chamber. She was too afraid to waste her last bullet. While she never used the gun, the fact she had one more chance at using it gave her a small sense of protection. Of course, she wasn’t vulnerable. Kenleigh had long since resorted to her series of knives that sat in her pockets and rested in her rucksack.

Her stomach growled, and she frowned. Food now consisted of canned food and occasionally the hunted animal. Kenleigh mostly ate canned goods, too afraid that animals might be sick. Only, animals couldn’t contract the dark virus, they couldn’t get sick. She never ate fish, and she never drank water other than the rain.

She didn’t know why she carried on.

But in the back of her mind, she did know. She needed to find others. She needed the reality that she wasn’t alone in this city, in this world.

Kenleigh had always found it cruelly ironic how, in most entertainment, the virus was in New York City. Nobody had thought it would begin in a third world country, being brought back by a doctor returning home.
London, England was where the virus really took off. Being an air born virus, it could kill one within a matter of days. Symptoms were the worst, at least which is what Kenleigh had heard. She really didn’t want to think of that now.

Her thoughts drifted to Roiben, her best friend. With his blue eyes and unnaturally white hair, many thought he was strange. Awkward and unruly, Roiben had been a contradiction that nobody understood. Except Kenleigh, she understood him like the back of her hand. He had been one of the first to pass away.

A sigh escaped the girl’s lips as she looked upwards. Dark storm clouds ominously loomed overhead, telling the girl that she would be able to refill her water rations soon. It was a known fact, to her, that all water was filled with diseases. She didn’t even trust the fresh puddles she trudged through on her way home.

Home consisted of a long abandoned warehouse, untouched by even the dead and certainly not the living. Several stray animals hung around the warehouse, sort of like guards. And if they weren’t massive canines, she didn’t mind the company.
Kenleigh hopped the chain link fence that surrounded the factory, greeted by a massive black dog. The canine snapped its jaw at her, growling and snarling, telling her she was unwanted. Swallowing her fear of large dogs, she slowly took off her bag, grabbing a small glass jar with disgusting pickled eggs in it. She wouldn’t eat this even at the end of the world.

The girl opened the jar, dumping the eggs onto the ground near the massive animal. She didn’t want to kill it, but she wanted it away from her. Plus she didn’t think she could take on a dog that large with a simple knife. The dog stopped growling and sniffed the eggs, its liquid black eyes staring at Kenleigh as it did.

After a while, the dog calmed down enough to start eating the eggs and let Kenleigh pass through. She had never seen that dog before, it was new and Kenleigh wanted it gone.

“Enjoy your meal, mutt.” She said in reference to the canine, slipping inside the rusted doors just as a clap of thunder roared over her. The flash of lightning and thunder seemed to shake the warehouse’s foundations. It wouldn’t collapse though; Kenleigh had been through worse in the warehouse.

Putting her bag on her makeshift bed, the girl dragged two buckets outside. Another clap of thunder and a flash of lightning came overhead just as the rain began to fall. Kenleigh scowled as it threw needles into her back and face, drenching her in a matter of a minute.

Walking back into the warehouse, a smallish dog lopped inside and almost smiled at Kenleigh with its brown face and striking blue eyes. She knew this dog; she had taken a liking to calling him Blue on behalf of his odd eyes. Kenleigh patted the dog behind the ears, hearing a small whine escape the poor animal. Like everything else, he was hungry.

Sitting on her bed, the girl took the time to open a can of mixed fruit. She hadn’t eaten today and might as well have something. She dished out a small amount for Blue who ate the fruit in hungry bites. She ate the rest and then set the can down, watching in amusement as the dog stuck his nose into the can, followed by a slurping noise.

She watched as the rain fell down and was glad that she would have some water. Of course, she’d have to boil it before it was drinkable.

Blue sat at her feet and Kenleigh was glad. It reminded her that things were still living, and if animals were alive, other people were bound to be too.

“Please, let at least one person be out there.” She asked the rain as it fell, a prayer lost in the roar of thunder.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chris Miura Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Lisa Maine Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Mei Feroinne Character Portrait: Rai McKray

0.00 INK

Rai 'Racker' McKray

Image

Racker jogged up the stairs as the first roll of thunder rumbled in the distance. His binoculars bounced on his broad chest. From his viewing position on the 10th floor, he'd seen the heavy, black clouds gathering an hour ago. It was about time to get the chickens locked up in their coop, before the storm broke with a vengence. The wind was already whipping up as he barged open the heavy metal door to the roof - it was always blustery 16 storeys up - and all the chickens were already nestled up in the maintenance hut he'd turned into a coop. He checked for eggs - nothing, second day in a row - and bolted the door. After checking the rain barrels were secure, he peered over the south edge to where he'd thought he'd seen movement in the park. Still nothing. Could be more feral dogs. He'd had to clear a pack of them out of the overgrown grass a week ago. The big ones he didn't mind. Big heads, big targets. The small, yippy bastards were the ones that could dodge and nip you. And there was no decent eating on them.

He hadn't made the tower block his own by being lax about security, though. Jogging back down the stairs as the thunder boomed closer, Racker stopped off at the eigth-floor flat he'd turned into his arsenal and grabbed an SA80. He'd spent over 20 years holding this weapon, or one just like it; at this stage it felt like an extension of his body. He checked the door to his living quarters opposite the arsenal, and jogged down to the fourth-floor viewing position.

The viewing position, like the one on the tenth floor, had been created with the brute expedient of smashing down all the interior walls and all the exterior windows. The cheap, damp plasterboard had fallen a lot easier than the reinforced glass. Now Racker had a clear field of vision of all the approaches to the tower block - just another security measure. Below the fourth floor, Racker had taken a sledgehammer to the stairwell; the only way up now was a rope ladder up the lift shaft.

There was someone down there! As freezing rain began to lance in through the open windows, Racker caught a glimpse of movement on the street beyond the park. It had looked like someone bending at the waist - certainly no movement a dog would make. Eyes half-closed against the rain as the still-thickening stormclouds turned day to twlight, Racker raised his rifle to his shoulder and squinted down the barrel.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten

0.00 INK

| Ryan Lockten |

Image


Ryan was jerked awake by a crack of thunder. Her body tense as she lashed out to grip her M4. Laying still she listened for a moment, the constant pitter patter of rain as it pounded on her window was the only thing that filled her ears. Groaning she released the gun and laid back down. It was raining, rain was water and she needed water. Throwing back the tattered black comforter she stood and picked her way cross the room. Ryan wasn't tidy, with empty MRE packages, loose ammunition rolling around, and even a damn beer bottle littered the floor. When was the last time she actually had alcohol?! An intense wave of desire to get shitfaced wasted washed over her like a tsunami.

She shook her head vigorously and kicked the bottle under the bed. Out of mind out of sight. She wished so. The rain beat against the roof and she dragged a hand down her face, last thing she wanted to do was get wet. But she needed the water. She stripped from her shirt and cargo pants, keeping as much clothing dry as possible. She didn't give a shit if she went outside bare ass naked. She hasn't seen anyone in a year, more or less. Was anyone even out there? The solitude didn't bother her, to just be alone. It would drive her crazy sooner or later, but now it was all fine and dandy.

She looked down at her black bra and matching boy shorts, making a mental sticky note to hunt for clothing in the near future. Her hand traveling over the puffy scar tissue from her belly button to her hip, a nasty reminder of war. Find clean clothes was actually harder than finding food. Slow decaying bodies littered the streets with clothing but the idea of even stripping a body for clothing was just wrong on so many damn levels. Plus the infection was bound to be thriving in the cloth. Ryan stepped out on the hotel balcony, the awning torn to hell and water poured onto the glazed wood like a fire hose.

Hasn't been a minuet and she was drenched. The water was neither cold nor warm to her skin and she couldn't feel the splash of the it as trickled on her body. She pulled back the tarp on a large fifty gallon drum, filled in layers of sand and charcoal. The rain water was more than likely safe to drink but she didn't want to take the chance. The water filtered through the layers and filled several small buckets that she would rotate until all six or seven were filled. She wasn't use to London's bipolar weather and in aggravated her constantly. Her little hotel room on the third floor, not too high but not two low. Taking the stairs gave her well needed exercise. Her room was barricaded to a comfortable extant. Chain linked fencing that she moved locked her and the stairs together and blocked out the other rooms, all of them scavenged and of no use. She was well set up, a Butterfly three burner stove that runs off kerosene, three hand guns and one M16A4, illegal to civilians and in her procession happily. A mini personal solar panel that charged batteries and her iPod. She had no use for the device but it allowed for music and entertainment.

As long as the necessities were fully charged and ready to go like batteries for her Maglite or for her camping light she was willing to charge the iPod to play Temple Run or Fruit Ninja. She came to London fully stocked, going camping in the small hills. She had no intentions to stay in the damn city, just stay for a few days and sight see. But that's when the infection hit, and she lost her nerve during the small window of time to leave. Afraid if she actually left the hotel and made her way across the city she would come in contact with an infected. And dieing wasn't on her to do list and wasn't something she was willing to add. She called her father, both crying over the phone but determined to see each other again. The plan never went through and she hasn't seen her beloved father in over a cruel year. She prayed he was alive, but knew it wasn't true. She lifted her head to the rain, "Turn to pure vodka!" She rolled her eyes and held her hand out to catch the clear liquid.

Pushing back her black curls that stuck to her chest and shoulders she stood with arms crossed as she watched the water fill the drum. She leaned to look over the balcony to the street below. Cars and a few bodies silently wallowing in the down pour, her vision grayed and restricted due to the hard curtain of rain. She went to rotate a bucket, her bare feet sliding out from under her. Her body hit the balcony hard, teeth slicing into her tongue. "Fuck me!" Anger bubbled like the blood that filled her mouth. No pain followed the bite but the fact that the disgusting coppery taste of blood made her curse in anger.

She scrambled to her feet, spitting blood over the railing. Whipped her chin she opened the sliding glass door, slamming it shut so it raddled behind her. Making her pissed off mood known to the rain. Ryan stomped her way to the bathroom, slipping on the wood that became slick under her wet feet. The white porcelain of the sink spattered with blood as she spit again. She looked at her tongue in the mirror, a small cut that would heal on its own if she didn't screw with it. She poured water down the sink to wash away the blood and changed. No way in hell was she going back outside.

She flopped on her stomach, the bed springs squeaking under her wait. She kicked her feet back and forth like a teenage girl as she looked at the very old issue of the NRA her father sent. The topic of her father made her frowned, not knowing if he was dead or alive tore at her heart. London was a hell hole, and she was here for fucking vacation! Home in North Carolina called her. The evergreen trees and the spicy mountain air was just barely a figment of the imagination now. A year goes by slowly if you can't stand were you live. Not being able to actually feel comfortable in your own home because you know that home was thousands miles away that cannot be grasped by your wanting hands tares at you. Family, friends, even pets, gone. Obliterated into a waste land you actually long for just because of the familiarity. The US had it hard but London was swept off it's feet and bitch slapped after being drugged down into a fresh hell.

She had nothing better to do, her guns clean and oiled, ammunition roughly estimated, wasn't hungry, tired, or even bored. She was restless and anxious. She threw the magazine aside, watching as it fluttered through the air and landed on the bedside table. Resting on her back she lifted her shirt, looking at her scar. She scowled at it, angry that it was a physical reminder of her husband. She hated herself at times, the Marines made codes, rules against romance with fellow jarheads. She didn't listen, didn't care. Corgain was just a fuck buddy at first. Just physical interaction and playful games.

His wise ass remarks and sarcastic nature drew her closer. Actually falling for a man she considered 'not her type'. Chemistry flared and the secretly married. If it was publicly known that a couple was in the same base, they would be split. Torn apart to keep drama at bay. What happened is the exact reason why they don't let this stuff happen. To watch the one person you love and care for more than anything literally blown apart isn't something you can comprehend. And she didn't, at first it was a cruel joke. Ryan didn't understand, why weren't the PJ's putting Corgain in the helicopter too? He was hurt worse then her, she just got shrapnel. She asked, begged for him.

She wasn't screaming in pain, or asking for the pain to be stopped. Five pounds of metal scarred her skin, embedded in her flesh. They noticed, noticed her disorder. She wasn't looked down upon for lying. But she was discharged. Given a Purple Heart and sent to rehabilitation before sent home. She wanted to be a Marine, it was her family, her blood. And if that meant hiding the impossible then fuck, that was what she was going to do! Ryan shook her head, forcing her to stop thinking.

But her brain doesn't shut down like that. Images of Corgain, her dad, and anyone else she loved and missed made themselves known in her head. She scowled, not wanting to think at all. She flipped over, pulling her iPod close and played Rebel Beat by The Goo Goo Dolls. Hoping the noise would banish the thoughts. She sang along softly, pulling apart the M4 to clean it. It was clean and didn't need it but it gave her something to do for a while. Making her focus on something else.

It didn't last long enough though and she put the gun back together quickly. She rubbed her forehead, clean out of anything to do. She could do all girly and braid her hair, paint her nails. Go commando and dance bare ass naked, that was shunned down quickly. She knew she could be out there looking for people or food or clothing, but she just felt lazy. Pulling her M4 close to her chest like a lover she listened to the rain until she fell asleep. She regretted thinking she could do everything by herself, she just need someone else to talk to or just awkwardly stand by.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chris Miura Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Lisa Maine Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Mei Feroinne Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Samuel Bryant




Image"Sorry, Pecker Head..."

Sam brought the mid-sized cleaver down and removed the chicken's head as he sat outside the small house outside of London. He had come here days after the infection began dropping people like flies, setting up shop and taking refuge from all the maniacs trying to flee the city. It had been a great place as well; way off from normal traveling means, the abandoned house was kind of a pain to find when you were looking for it, much less so when you had no idea it was there. Out in the country as the place was, a few small animals were common find and Sam had gotten luck with a few chickens hanging around nearby. Pecker Head, as he called her, was the last of them. And getting ready for a trip back into London itself, Sam had to choices: let the chicken go, or kill it and bring the meat. He liked the chicken, but he loved having food much more. And after a year living in the area, the pickings had become scarce. He needed to get what he could find in the city before taking off on a trip to wherever he was headed next.

It only took Sam's trained hands a few minutes to finish chopping up the feathered animal and pickle it away in one of his jars, long empty of what it had previously contained. Tucking the jar in his only pack with the rest of the few canned goods he had left, he threw on his jacket and began walking back to the rail lines that could bring him into the city. Sam avoided the roads, too many corpses crowding the cars and surrounding areas...




He hadn't been to the city since his sister had passed away, and for good reason. Sam knew the dangers of hanging around dead bodies soon after they had passed on. All the bacteria and infections they carried were as deadly as a bullet to the face. Not something he thought of as a good time.

The first bout of thunder rolled in over the city soon after Sam arrived. It was slow going as Sam continuously stopped and monitored his surroundings, staying out of sight and off the normal roads in and out of the city. There hadn't been any sign of any other people alive, but Sam had not lived this long just to shun all caution now. With that thought, Sam adjusted the machete sticking over his shoulder to make sure it was was easily accessible. It was one of the many useful objects he had found at the abandoned house outside the city, and aside from his meager cooking utensils, it was one of his only effective weapons in case he did run into someone.

The swift patter of rain began trickling into the city, slowly at first, but quickly picking up in intensity as the storm rolled in. He made sure to top off the three bottles of water he had in his pack, as well as filling the other empty jar he carried with him before getting out of the downpour. Running into one of the only nearby buildings that didn't already looked looted or run down, Sam shook out his jacket and hair. It appeared to be an old mill or unused factory a little distance away from a warehouse or some random storage plot barricaded in by a chain-link fence.

He quickly went to work in scouting around the building to find it, unsurprisingly, unused. Pulling the steel wool he brought along with him, Sam gathered up a few dry materials around the floor and headed up to the second floor to set up his small fire pit. A small, 9V battery lit up the steel wool easily as Sam touched the metal filaments to the old battery. Adding in the dry debris, Sam soon had a decent fire going as he warmed himself. Barricading the fire from the outside with a few cinder blocks, and adding damp card board over the top, his fire was nicely concealed from any prying eyes. As he pulled the chicken from his pack, he used a bit of tin foil to create a makeshift stove and began cooking the delicious meat. As the fat popped and sizzled, Sam's mouth began to water and the area was flooded with the irresistible aroma of Pecker Head.


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Chris Miura Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Lisa Maine Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Mei Feroinne Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Image
Aries Wolfe


As Aries looked through the shattered and serrated window panes of the old wood cabin she took harbor in, she could not only see the electrifying light show taking place, she could also hear its rattling strike. She muttered a not-so-polite curse under her breath before turning and looking away. Last time there was a storm this big, the roof of the old place not only began to leak more, but the old haggard trees started falling one after another. The place she had taken refuge in for over three months, she now deemed too unsafe to live in, as she was afraid trees would start falling onto the house, causing some of the pieces of wood that the lodge was built of to end up falling on her, that in return, kills her.

The elderly cabin was about an hour away from London, and was surrounded by a dark green forest. How she found this place, was by pure luck. She had gone to go hunting from more animal meat, when in the woods she stumbled upon a man made trail. She had nothing to go on but optimism from what was to appear at the end of it, but she followed her intuition and trudged along it. About an hour later, she stumbled upon the formerly family owned abode. Deciding to stay there was a rapid and painless verdict. When she entered the log cabin, there was no indication of any carcasses. It was a secure bet to say that it was unlikely she would be contaminated by the disease here; then again she didn’t really care if she caught it or not.

Aires considers herself a walking opposition. She fears both existence and death, but then at the same time she couldn’t care less if she lived or died. Yet, it was always like that even before that grave disease starting wiping out mankind as if it were a pesky fly. She was always a sadder child. She wasn’t depressed, but she had always felt neglected by her peers and parents. She was a very anti-social person, the only person she would ever actually find herself talking to was her baby brother Luka. She protected him from the world, as her parents did not. The Wolfe family wasn’t essentially a wealthy family but they were pretty well off, as Aires parents were pretty established business people. So established they had no time for their kids. Her brother had Cystic Fibrosis, a disease where fluid would jam up the lungs making it complicated for the person to breath. His case wasn’t as dreadful as for him to have to carry around an oxygen tank as some others did, but he was always hopped up to some type of medicine, and always had some sort of tube on him whenever he slept. His life expectancy was around twenty years of age, but he died when he was ten when he was one of the first people In London to seize the illness. It struck him pretty hard and fast too, as he could catch any bug within a matter of seconds with his immune system being so poor. When her parents had figured out what he had caught, they didn’t even second guess what course of action they would take. They kicked him out of the house. Aires fought, screamed, swore, and thrashed at her parents, and ended up leaving the house trying to find him. She didn’t come back until a couple of days later, after searching the whole city without getting a wink of sleep trying to find his body. It was about a month after that, that he parents died of the virus. Aries from that point found it hard to find anyone alive, as she moved from place to place in London. All she carried around with her was a couple of carved arrows and a carved bow, a patched and torn backpack filled with a couple of random things she figures might come in handy that she took from abandoned houses, her beaten up acoustic guitar, and a dagger she has on a small sheath on her right thigh. She just goes by now, trying to survive. Yet she’s not careful at the same time. If she were to get the disease at this point, whether it be from eating a bad piece of meat, or attaining it from a corpse, she wouldn’t care as she is already so broken and torn to give a damn.

Picking up her bag off the floor, she slung it on her back, adjusting the straps so it hung a little looser so she could also sling her bow across her back without it being too uncomfortable, in which she did also. Making her way into the kitchen, she opened up the cupboards where she grabbed the last bit of fresh meat she had from her last hunting excursion, and a couple of harmless berries she had found. Packing them up with the rest of her little belongings, she pulled the hood of her thick, but torn, army green coat over her head and pushed back her long shadowy brunette hair. Walking towards the broken hinged, swinging door, she scooped up her guitar in her hand, and made her way out of the cabin. The ground beneath her feet was turned to marsh, as she made her way into the forest area, where she soon found the muddy trail. She sauntered along, looking out for any animals that could try an attack her, but they must have all gone away, trying to shelter themselves from the storm. Aries sustained on, the heavy rain and cackling thunder becoming a sort of soundtrack to her boring hour long journey to the forsaken city that she used to call home.

She was glad that in the woods area it was extremely rare to find a dead body, as it disturbed her utterly. Not because that it was a decaying mass of what used to be a living, breathing individual, but of the fact that she always had a spark of hope that the body might be her brothers. The truth is, Aries when she sleeps, has extremely gore filled, disturbing nightmares about her brother and his death, that all ends up being on her hands. She tries going days on end without sleeping, just to avoid the dreams, and in return, she ends up being very sleep deprived most of the time, and that doesn’t help her energy levels.

A yawn escaped her mouth, and if trying to occupy herself to thrive on, she started humming a small tune under her soft breath, and as if almost by cue, she found herself stepping off the trail, and onto a dirt road. “About fifteen more minutes until the city.” She groaned tiredly under her breath, before continuing along, glad by the knowledge that soon she’d find a new place, hopefully one that’s not leaking.

Aries stopped humming as her large soled boots scuffed a cracked concrete paved road, signalling her that she finally arrived in London. That wasn’t the only signal though, as she was suddenly overwhelmed by the sight and smell of rotting body’s. “I have to get off the main road.” She slurred to herself, knowing that if she did so, she would run into less off the body’s. Aries brought herself to a small jog, still clutching her guitar for dear life in her hand. As she hit a street block, she slowed down and continued walking, trying to find a good place of shelter to settle in to.

As she walked along, her brown eyes caught hold of a large, abandoned looking warehouse. It was rather small, and not fenced off so it was pretty accessible. Walking into the warehouse, she knew it was only good for a temporary stay inside, but figured it would be best to get out of the rain for now. Dropping her bag beside her and pushing the hood off her head, she sat down, still keeping her bow slung on her back. As she settled down, she sighed in relief, and began strumming her guitar quietly, humming softly along to the tune.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chris Miura Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Lisa Maine Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Mei Feroinne Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

| Ryan Lockten |


Ryan sat there on her bed, looking at the last bit of her MRE rations she brought for fucking camping! Not survival shit! She rubbed her forehead with her palm, this sucks. A whole damn year! A long ass fucking damn year! She looked at the little mixed matched stuff, one sugar packet, cocoa mix, Non-dairy creamer, pound cake, Western Style Beans and Salt & Pepper package. The rain still battered at her window, making it impossible for her to go hunt for meat. Luckily animals couldn't catch the infections, which eluded Ryan but was a plus. A year ago, the idea of eating a dog was taboo, unorthodox. But now it was survival, an aspect of everyday life. The occasional chicken or even a damn cat was perfect as long as they had actual meat on the bones.

Mixing the sugar, cocoa, and creamer together with a water added here and there created a chocolate like frosting. Slather that on the pound cake and ta-da! Cake. Guarantee this will be the last time she ever has cake again. She snorted and stuffed the thing in her mouth as she stood from the bed. Her little hotel room wasn't that far from a warehouse, she never actually bothered to investigate the property. But something perked her interest and as soon as the damn rain stopped she was going to see if there was anything of use in the old warehouse. Food, clothing, and ammunition where the top three on the list. Followed by alcohol.

She stood at the sliding glass door and caught movement from the corner of her eye. Her head snapped to the side as she watched someone jog across the road and into the warehouse. She choked on her makeshift cake as she watched the person disappear. That wasn't a figment of the imagination? I couldn't be. But she hasn't seen any living human in over a damn year. She mentally did that, forced herself to have a reason to actually go to the warehouse. Ryan shook her head and opened the sliding glass door out to the balcony. Sticking her head out she squinted through the curtain of rain and into the warehouse. She didn't see anyone, but the idea at someone, an actual living person besides her in the building drove her curiosity meter through the roof.

A war waged in her. Go out into the rain and actually find another person or SWW, (Stay, Wait, Watch.) The former sounded wonderful, but the latter was rational. Ryan had previous problems with seeing things that aren't there and after a year with no social contact your brain plays tricks on you. She pulled her head back in the room and closed the door, dragging a hand down her face and rubbing her jaw. Pulling a chair from the small breakfast table she parked it in front of the glass door, sitting on it backwards with her arms folded and her chin propped. She felt like a stalker, a creeper in the window. But the feeling was washed away as soon as it swam up. People, she snorted and hoped to god that she wasn't seeing things and that the hooded figure was real.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chris Miura Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Lisa Maine Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Mei Feroinne Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Samuel Bryant




Sam sat back against the hard surface of the wall behind him, still tucked away in his little corner of the factory, the fire in front of him still relatively concealed. The chicken was so good, he wanted to eat the rest of it. Lightly spiced with a few of the random ingredients he had found throughout the last few months, Sam definitely could have asked for a better meal, but the chicken was probably the best that anyone had eaten in a while. But unfortunately, his urge to devour the rest of his food lost the fight against his rationalizing mind, knowing he needed to save what he had until he could get a more plentiful supply.

The water patted on the roof in a steady drum, ringing and echoing through the building because of the metal roof. Looking around, Sam let out a rather exasperated sigh, knowing there wasn't much to do. His utensils were cleaned and wiped down already, everything he had taken out to make his fire and cook the chicken was now stashed away again, and he couldn't wander around the city aimlessly due to the rain and thunder. Well I could... he thought silently. Though pneumonia doesn't sound too fun... He decided to walk over to the window facing out into the world of rain and thunder just to take a look around. Sitting on the sill, he rubbed a spot off the dirt-crusted window large enough for him to look around. Although there really wasn't much to see. A hotel sat a bit up the road, and the warehouse he had spotted earlier sat a little ways off---

"What the?!" Sam nearly lost his seat as he spotted movement near the warehouse. Instead, he caught himself and shot up quickly, catching a glimpse of the hooded figure and what looked like a guitar before smacking his head against the upper sill. "Holy hell!" He shouted, grasping his head where he hit the hard surface. Locking his eyes back on the scene of the warehouse, he searched for the figure once more, only to find it gone. Am I seeing things now..? Shaking his head, he abolished the thought and ran over his belongings, throwing on his jacket over the hooded t-shirt he already wore. Kicking dirt over his fire, he made sure it was out before running over to the window to look out once more, again seeing nothing.

The elevator was slightly open and he forced the door the rest of the way to see the decent drop to the first floor below him, the elevator too far up to be of any use. "Screw it..." He said as he checked his pack was secure and jumped out with both gloved hands to catch the elevator cables and spin to a halt. Locking his ankles around the cable below himself, he lowered himself down to the first floor again rather quickly, huffing a bit as he hit the ground. Rushing in his haste, he stopped at the door of the factory as he threw it open and stared out into the rain. Rushing out didn't seem like a logical idea at the moment. He had no idea who it was he saw, or if he really saw someone. "Beats sitting around here," he said before throwing his hood up over his head and running out into the rain.

Sam made it quickly to the fence surrounding the warehouse and hurried over. Already completely drenched by time he made it to a door, he tugged on it and said a silent thank you when it opened easily. "Jesus..." he said as he caught his breath and shut the door behind him, standing in self made puddle from the water rolling off of him. "Save some water for the damn oceans...."

Taking a step further inside, Sam cupped his hands to his mouth, "Anyone home?!" He shouted out, squinting to see inside the darkness of the warehouse.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chris Miura Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Lisa Maine Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Mei Feroinne Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Kenleigh Smith

Image Kenleigh had been sitting on her homemade cot when the stray jumped up and began barking. The warehouse was large, so it could be anything. That’s what she thought before she heard the strum of a guitar.

People? She asked herself, grabbing a few things before she set off to find whoever it was. Maybe she was hearing things now, imagining it. Oh, I’m going crazy. She let out a stifled laugh as she turned a corner.

Nobody was there, and Kenleigh felt a little disappointed. Her disappointment disappeared when the sound of a door shutting echoed through the warehouse. She couldn’t see a thing in the corridor, no windows running through it and the power had been out for a long, long time. If someone was here, she just hoped it wasn’t a killer.

“Anyone home?!" Someone yelled. Startled by the sudden noise, Kenleigh dropped her knife and let out a shriek. The girl’s eyes widened as she put her hands over her mouth, taking a step back. Why am I such an idiot?! She looked around, seeing the blade of her knife glint in what little light there was.

The girl grabbed the knife, almost tripping over herself as she did. She stood up, inching her way back towards her little haven in the warehouse, where most of the light was.

“St-stay where you are.” She hissed, not able to see the man (Well he sounded like a man) in the darkness. “Don’t move an inch or I’ll shoot!” She threatened, although it was a flat out lie. Her gun was with her cot and it only had one bullet. But he couldn’t see that, could he.

She grabbed the dull flashlight she had out of her pocket; she only used it in emergencies and turned it on. Her eyes narrowed at the man, not able to see her behind the light. He was definitely older than her, younger than her father had been. She crossed her arms, not moving and making sure as hell he wouldn’t either.

“What do you want?” She asked, pleased that her voice didn’t sound scared anymore.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chris Miura Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Lisa Maine Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Mei Feroinne Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Samuel Bryant




ImageSam waited in stunned silence as footsteps echoed closer and closer to where he stood, still dripping water all over the floor of the warehouse. As he heard the slight shriek, he started forward, too delighted at hearing another human sound to realize that a shriek wasn't a very positive reaction. He saw the slight movement as the source of the shriek went down then up and a blinding light was pointed at him.

“St-stay where you are. Don’t move an inch or I’ll shoot!” Stopping in his tracks, he tried to see the voice speaking to him. "What do you want?" Came another call.

"Oh shi--! Wait wait!" Shielding his eyes from the light, Sam cast around behind him, knowing he had already moved and should go back to where he was already standing. The light illuminated the puddle fairly decently and he hopped back to where it was, too excited to care that he was still doing exactly what the voice had told him not to do. "There, or was it here?" Quickly sidestepping, he positioned himself in the center of the puddle. Satisfied that he was now back where he started, he finally quit moving and addressed to voice behind the light.

"Sorry 'bout that," the slight Irish accent still evident in his speech. "I saw you and your guitar outside and couldn't help it. You're the first person I've spotted alive in...well...months." The words came out in a bit of a rush, but Sam's excitement overrode his sense of caution and everything began to spill out. But taking a breath and slowing down a bit, he addressed the light still in his face.

"Is that really needed? You could see me without ruining what's left of me eyes. Besides, if you're gonna' shoot, then do it and get it over with. If not, then at least let me get these damn clothes off." At the moment, Sam's dripping jacket was still adding to the puddle around him, and the moisture was beginning to sink into his shirt underneath. Moving his feet again, he rolled his shoulders at the uncomfortable chill starting to set in and laughed inwardly at the fact he was still moving around.

"All I want is to know I'm not goin' crazy. I thought one of the bodies was speaking to me the other day, and now I'm seeing live people. Please for the love of whatever the hell is still out there tell me you are real..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chris Miura Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Lisa Maine Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Mei Feroinne Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Samuel Bryant




Image“Oh, I’m very real. I won’t shoot you, either. But if you so much as touch me, your dead.

"Hm?" The way this girl said her last sentence, it sounded to Sam like she already thought the worst of him. What exactly she meant by touch her was beyond him for the moment as he was much too relieved at seeing another living person to really think too hard on it. But just as he pushed it from his mind, it came crashing back in with a ridiculous assumption. The hell? he thought. What kind of guy does she think I am?! Though it was perfectly reasonable to think that way in the world today, Sam still opened his mouth to assure her he wouldn't, but was a second too late as he caught the dark silhouette of her form turn and head off.

Just as his eyes began to settle into the darkness around the warehouse, a flash illuminated the small room the woman led him to and Sam caught a glimpse of the woman. Girl would be more appropriate... There still wasn't much to see in the quick flash of illumination, but her hair drew his attention immediately, the fiery colors a stark contrast to the world around them. He didn't know why, but just seeing the obviously out of place hair atop the girl's head made him think the world they were in now wasn't all thrown to hell. Like a tiny light in the overwhelming darkness of the night they now called life...

"Wait," Sam stopped as they came into the room the woman was more than likely using as her home. A thought occurred to him and he pulled the weakening Maglite from his pack. He tried to use it sparingly with the lack of electricity now a days, but the thought of finding a second person deemed the situation worthwhile. "The person with the guitar came in the same door I did," He explained, "well, unless they felt like strolling around a bit with it pissing outside. Sorry..." Sam apologized out of habit at cursing in front of the girl. His sister used to get onto him about that.

"Anyway..." He pointed the light back to his own water trail he had tracked in behind him and traced it back, close to the door until... "There." He illuminated the small trail of water leading away from the door that was beginning to dry up. Unlike Sam's water trail, it didn't lead back to the girl's small room. The trail itself didn't go far and his weak light soon illuminated a figure not far away, a few droplets of water still rolling off the jacket she wore. It was obvious that Sam didn't recognize the woman sitting in his illuminated light, but what he did recognize, was the guitar she held in her hands.

"Let me guess..." He called to the girl with the guitar. "Stay where I am or you'll shoot?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Samuel Bryant




Sam's light began to flicker as he moved it away from the woman on the floor with the guitar, and to the sound of yet another woman's voice. He didn't move other than shaking the light a bit to jostle the batteries inside, causing the steady, yet weak, stream of light to focus on the newest woman that poked her head out. Jesus.... he thought, noticing the guns hanging around the woman and the one strapped to her thigh.

Diverting his attention from the woman for a moment, Sam noticed he was the barrier between his fiery-haired hostess and the new woman's guns. She trusts me to protect her already..? He thought, before coming to the most likely conclusion of him being her walking bullet catcher. Letting out a bit of a sigh, he registered Kenleigh's name to memory as she introduced herself from her relatively sheltered position behind him. "I'm usually dreaming when when I'm stuck in some random lot with women all around me..." Unfortunately for Sam, he realized too late that he said that part out loud, and for the three women to hear. "Whoops...sorry..." He apologized for the second time in at least a few minutes for his mouth. There really wasn't anything wrong with it in his mind, but he figured he was being a bit inappropriate for the current audience. Not that I care, I'm just glad there are people still walking and breathing....even if they are all planning to shoot me...

"Sam." He called out, loud enough to be heard by the woman a little ways away with the guitar, as well as the woman who reminded him of a walking armory. He turned slightly to give an awkward wave behind himself at Kenleigh, still sheltering behind him. Focusing his attention back to the woman about to use him as target practice, he gave a small shrug. "If I did have a gun on me, it wouldn't really matter, would it now Rambo? If you want to shoot me, then shoot me. Wouldn't be the first woman to throw that suggestion out...."

"See the trend you started here?" Sam whispered to Kenleigh, referring to her being the first one to insinuate shooting him today. I could think of worst ways to die. Honestly. He remembered they weren't exactly alone at the moment, and felt they were overlooking another presence in the room. "Oi, Taylor Swift!" He called over to the guitar-wielding woman. "Should Live Free or Die Shootin' here shoot me before or after she lets me look at the gash on her hand?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

| Ryan Lockten |


Image Ryan bellowed in laughter, her head tilted back as her dark curls danced. What kind of kinky shit was this guy into? Three women and an abandoned warehouse? The thought made her snicker. She looked at her hand, shaking more blood from it. "Got...hung up. I'll need stitches once I can get the ring-" She dropped her M4 to bounce on her chest as she dug the ring from her finger. A wet suction noise sounded as she slipped the ring from the wound. "-out. Gross." Shaking her hand once more she used her pants to clean it, accessing the wound.

The man was tall, dark, and gorgeous. She snorted and rolled her eyes as some very...prudent images flashed in her mind. I'm such a perv! She turned her attention to the girl behind him. She was young, late teens or early twenties. Bright hair, light skin, and a guarded nervousness showed on her features. Ryan adopted a hand-on-hip pose, "Won't shoot unless given a good reason." Her voice one you use when you tell a kindergartner not to eat glue. Rubbing her forehead with her uninjured hand she said, "Perhaps we weren't properly introduced before. My name is Ryan Lockten, but you can call me bitch behind my back-or Rambo, I like that one-Former U.S. Marine Corp at your service."

She left out the 'discharged' part. They didn't need to know that. They didn't even need to know her damn name, she didn't know what kind of people they were. But the fact that there were people, actual living people made her plant her boot to 'rational's ass and kick him out the window of a moving vehicle. Tuck and roll babe, the asphalt is a bitch.

She eyed the two people, "You guys aren't like...together or something?" They were several years apart, but hell, the world went to shit, who was here to say anything? "A little action in the warehouse?" Ryan snorted and dry humped the air. Damn was she awkward.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Kenleigh

Image
The girl stuck her tongue out at Sam despite the fact it made her seem childish. When the woman pulled her ring out though, her face paled and she closed her eyes, trying not to think about it. Gross, gross, gross. She thought to herself, opening her eyes as the woman introduced herself as Ryan.

A smirk formed on the girl’s lips as Ryan said they could call her bitch or Rambo, but it disappeared as soon as she asked if she and Sam were together. “A little action in the warehouse?" Kenleigh began to choke in surprise at the woman, her eyes widening and she tossed Sam a quick glance.

“What?” She asked, her voice going a little higher, “Fuck no!” She subconsciously took a step away from Sam and glared at the woman. She crossed her arms, showing her annoyance clear on her face.

Her eyes fell on the gun that was across her chest, “How the hell did you smuggle that into London?” She asked, her eyebrows rising as she ignored the woman’s wound. Kenleigh knew about guns, after all her father sold them on the black market. He told her about guns and any other weapons she needed to know about. “Well, Rambo?” She asked, a sneer forming on her lips.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Ignore this

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Samuel Bryant




Sam blinked as he and Kenleigh were coupled together for an instant in the new woman, Ryan's eyes. He had to force himself to clench his jaw as tightly as possible to avoid bursting out in laughter at the display the woman put on. She seemed a little twisted and completely unafraid of the implications her words were to bring on, if any. Thank God... he thought. A twisted and completely messed up sense of humor was a highly underrated thing...

Sam's finger went to his ear as the higher pitched denial of Kenleigh's statement left a small ringing in his ear, and a small 'hmph' escaped him. You could do a lot worse you know... Even at the thought, Sam really looked at the girl for the first time. She was definitely younger than he was by more than a couple years, most likely about as young as his sister had been when she... Sam shook his head slightly, abolishing any thoughts of his sister to keep the unpleasant reminders away.

Snapping back to the present time, he was reminded that the woman was still standing there with an open wound on her finger. Years ago, Sam would have thrown a band-aid on his siblings cuts after cleaning it out and not worry about it anymore. Wash it regularly and make sure they didn't pick at it. Now, however, a cut could kill you just as easily as a bullet. And more painfully too... He pulled his still damp gloves off his hands and rummaged through his pack, ignoring everything else that was going on. Explaining what he was doing was probably a great idea, but Sam really didn't feel the need, and knelt down to pull a small plastic bag from one of the many pockets in his pack. Closing up the pocket, he tugged on one of the zippers to bring out one of his freshly boiled bottle of water. Walking over to Ryan, really not caring about the weapons on her person, he opened the tiny plastic bag to reveal the many miscellaneous serving packets he had found anywhere and everywhere he could. Soy sauce, mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise, pepper, salt, and many more...

Picking through the packets, he found one he was looking for and read the clear word 'Honey' on the front of the tiny package. The next item he searched for brought a small sigh to his lips when he noticed only two small cloves left from the last garlic bulb he had. Pulling the cloves apart, he tucked one back into his plastic bag and dropped the in his hand and held it and the honey packet out to Ryan. "Eat these raw," he said as he began rummaging through his bag again to pull out the, very minuscule, sewing kit he had. "You two can talk about guns all you want while we take care of this," he gestured to the bit of blood trickling off Ryan's hand. "The garlic and honey will help fight off any infections, but the longer you let this sit, the worse it's going to get."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Rai McKray Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

| Ryan Lockten |


Image Ryan erupted in laughter at Kenleigh's reaction. "Hell, he ain't that bad looking." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully as she nodded her thanks to Sam and popped the garlic in her mouth. "I took the M4 apart and shipped in the pieces." Her shoulder lifted in a shrug as she ignored the girls sneer.

She watched Sam, as he got ready to sew up her finger. "You guys been down here long?" She was waiting to see just how long it was going to take the man to find out she wasn't going to feel the needled. No Pain. A curse specialized just for her. If she could keep them talking then they wouldn't notice, or just consider her a tough bastard. Explaining and trying to make people even remotely comprehend was an impossible feat that she didn't want to have anything to do with right now. Finding out if these guys had stable living area, food, water, and whatever else was an essential at the moment. The idea of bartering ammunition for food made her stomach twist, a last resort that she never wanted to stoop to.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Kenleigh

Image
The girl looked at the woman, rolling her eyes as she said how Sam was attractive to her. She can have him, he’s like ten years older than me. She crossed over to her makeshift cot, sitting down and pulling her feet under her.

The woman asked how long they had been here, “How long?” Kenleigh repeated the question, “I’ve been here since everyone began dropping like flies, he” She pointed to Sam and then the girl, “And her just came here.”

She looked over at the gun, smirking. “Is that the only gun you have?” She asked, “Do you have a Springfield XD?” She asked, pulling hers out and taking out the empty magazine to show she wouldn’t shoot. Not like she could, when she threatened Sam it had been a bluff.

So far she knew two people, one still remained a mystery. Kenleigh didn’t know what she would do if another decided to show their face.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aries Wolfe Character Portrait: Kenleigh Smith Character Portrait: Ryan Lockten Character Portrait: Samuel Bryant

0.00 INK

Samuel Bryant




Listening to the two women as they conversed, Sam knelt down to get a better view of the bloody finger. The blood was beginning to dry up and it was too hard to tell where the cut stopped and where the decent flesh still was. It was also a bit obvious that the yanking action that removed the ring did a little more harm than good. Sam didn't need a doctor to know that much. Years inspecting different meats and various other foods taught him a little bit in terms of what to look for. Not to mention dealing with accident-prone teenage siblings as well...

Pulling out one of his only t-shirts he had boiled only a day ago, it was the only thing he was sure would be clean enough, he tore off two decent strips of the black material and poured the clean water onto it a bit. Dabbing it onto the blood-soaked finger, he began to see the extent of the damage and was relieved to see it looked worse than it really was. He pulled out the small needle he used to mend tears in his clothes and his tiny pack of matches. Two left... he thought. And now one... He struck the match and ran it over the needle, unable to do anything else without any alcohol. Hopefully it would be good enough. Using the t-shirt strip, he cleaned the finger as much as possible and folded the skin back in place before pushing the needle into the woman's skin.

Pausing, he looked up to watch her face as the needle slid through, pulling the string behind. Sam's brow furrowed at the absent Ow! that should have followed. Jesus...she must be tough as nails... Working semi-quickly, Sam closed everything up as best he could, imagining it was a piece of his sister's old clothing and not a person's finger. Happy with his handiwork, he wrapped the stitch with the remaining t-shirt strip and tied the ends. "Done," he said aloud. "That should do for now. Might want to find some antibiotics or whatever here soon though."

He stood and brushed himself off before stashing away his stuff back in his pack and leaning it against the wall. Crossing his arms and leaning against the wall himself, Sam addressed the others. "I just recently came back to the city. Was running out of supplies at a place I was shacked up in for a while. Was in the warehouse enjoying supper when I saw her I'm guessing," he nodded his head to the girl a bit away who had yet to join the conversation. "I guess it takes a little time to warm up to me. Sunshine here wanted to shoot me when I walked through those doors." Sam inclined his head at Kenleigh and grinned. The girl seemed to be quite interested in weapons, and Sam wouldn't put it past her to still contemplate shooting him. But please don't...