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The Walking Dead: Survivor Chronicles

Virginia

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a part of The Walking Dead: Survivor Chronicles, by cheater0611.

None

cheater0611 holds sovereignty over Virginia, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

585 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

www.thewalkingdead.com

Setting

Default Location for The Walking Dead: Survivor Chronicles
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Virginia

None

Minimap

Virginia is a part of The Walking Dead: Survivor Chronicles.

12 Characters Here

Xander Coltman [33] "There is no God. God wouldn't let that monster that was my mother attack my sister."
Lyra Coltman [26] "Things get worse before they get better...Right?"
Mirena Prevex [24] Survivor
Tia Kirby [22] Don't walk, run!
Kieran Adams [20] What kind of higher power would allow this to happen? Is this the end times?
Katie Halesworth [18] "All's fair in l- an epidemic."
Rebecca Clarke [14] Could this really be God's plan? To kill everyone?
Minya Polack [14] "Your gods may have abandoned us. For me it's the begining."
Randal Fergason [13] "Things sure have gone downhill."
Fr Pat O'Brien [13] I pray for you, for what good it will do

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Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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He sat by the fire listening to the crackle of the wood he'd managed to gather. It had been some time since he started it and he hadn't been attacked yet. The night had come quickly and he could only barely see into the tree's some way from the fire's glow. His stomach growled and his entire being screamed at him as he sat there quietly. He was tired and hungry but to exhausted to do anything about it.

For a time he sat there listening to the fire and the sound of the water jumping inwardly at every break in their dance. Before long though his stomach had finally won and he moved to procure the required objects from his pack. As he fiddle with the can of tuna using the can opener on his knife he thought he'd heard the sound of something moving nearby. Stopping he looked into the darkness straining to see anything at all. Seconds crawled by at an agonizing pace as his stomach grumbled furiously at his over-cautiousness. Shaking his head he resumed preparation of what was to be his meager meal of seared shredded tuna.

He picked at it as it sizzled in the bottom of the pot, the scent teasing him. Flipping the crusting patty over he licked his lips impatiently. As soon as it had finished he greedily devoured the morsel closing his eyes and just enjoying the minute of flavor. He wasn't anywhere near to being full but at least it'd hold him over. Standing he stretched out his arms to the sky groaning. He wasn't just tired and hungry he was also pretty sore. He hadn't stopped to set up a serious camp in days and his last few meals weren't much to talk about.

It wasn't long before he had resumed scanning the area steadily getting tired.

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Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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-Marked for Deletion-

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Character Portrait: Mirena Prevex Character Portrait: Tia Kirby Character Portrait: Lyra Coltman Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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Rena's blue eyes focused on Lyra as she tossed the bottle of water in the air. She gave a small smile as she caught the bottle then looked to Tia. She wanted to ask if she was ok, but she decided not to. She watched Lyra hand Tia the bottle and give her instructions. She nodded, taking in the instructions she gave Tia.

As Lyra went out the door, Rena nodded and stood. She was in a daze and she could barely even function. She was so tired that everything was starting to spin. She moved back to her spot by the window and looked at her pack of smokes that laid on the ground. Coon was sitting next to them, gazing at her. "You hungry baby?" She asked, her words a slur. Coon ran over to her bag, which was still across the room closer to Tia, and climbed inside. Everyone could hear the rustling in the bag of Coon munching on his snacks.

As she sat there, she listened to Tia talking. She never replied, however she listened to every word. When Tia spoke of her own brother, Rena gave a small smile. Silently she prayed to whichever god would listen that DeShuan was alright. She had never met him, and she doubted she ever would. However, she knew the pain all to well of losing a sibling.

A loud grumble echoed from Rena's stomach right as Xander walked in. She gazed up at him and watched as he plopped his bag in front of her. She nodded and gave a small whistle, which took a few times to get it right. Coon stuck his head out of her bag and she showed him her pack of smokes. The little creature moved back into the bag for a second before pushing a pack out of the bag, climbing out himself, and sliding the pack of smokes over to her, using his nose. "Good boy." She said then handed the back of smokes to Xander. "You got any food?" She asked hopefully. "Nothing big, just a sandwich or something?" She asked doubtfully. Whenever Tia replied to Xander, Rena shook her head and laughed a little. "I'm sure he means no harm." She mumbled, hoping she heard her.

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Character Portrait: Fr Pat O'Brien Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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He hadn't smelled a cooked meal since the night Fr Joseph had been killed. He had eaten cold from tins since. So when the smell of cooking fish wafted down the river, Fr Pat sat bolt upright, setting his little boat rocking from side to side. Setting his club by his side, he waited til the boat settled, then knelt up, looking upriver to the source of the smell.

Squinting, he looked up river. At first, the unaccustomed darkness of the post-outbreak world was all he saw. Then, a flash, which died, then grew into a flickering glow. Someone had lit a fire. Fr Pat sat back into his boat and pondered the development. Was the firestarter reckless in setting up such a beacon, or confident of their safety, with the river on one side, perhaps protected on the other side by one of the thickets of trees that dotted the river bank? Most likely, anyone who could light a fire knew what they were doing. You had to, to survive this long. Secondly, was the fire-starter hostile or friendly?

Instinctively, Fr Pat crossed himself, drew his motorcycle helmet over his head, and unshipped his oars. If he kept his distance and kept his head down, perhaps he could figure out who had made camp so close to his own resting place. He lowered the oars and slowly drew closer to the fire.

From 30 feet, Fr Pat could make out a man of average height and build moving around the fire, occasionally tending to a pot in its midst, occasionally looking around his surroundings, presumably for wandering Dead. He wondered how desperate the man must have been to light a fire out in the wilderness, tree cover or no, especially when he was alone. It could draw the Dead from miles around, if any had avoided being drawn to Fort AP Hill.

Fr Pat's knew his faith hung by a thread, but it would take a lot more to drive out his Christian compassion. Lying in the bottom of the boat, just his helmet poking above the side, he croaked out a shouted whisper: 'On the bank, you there.' He hadn't spoken in days. He scooped a handful of water from the river, drank, and cleared his throat. 'On the bank. Hello? Are ye alright over there?'

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Character Portrait: Fr Pat O'Brien Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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As he sat lazily staring into the darkness he sighed heavily. On the verge of passing out he could barely keep his eyes open when he heard something. He tried to make it out but he couldn't even think straight. He'd probably have let it go if he hadn't heard it again. The words came to him muffled through the fog that was his thoughts. Words. The single thought broke through and he snapped awake.

Stumbling to his feet he could feel the adrenaline already beginning to well within him. It had been weeks since he'd seen another living human. Gripping his weapon, he licked his suddenly dry lips as he squinted into the darkness scanning the land. Seeing nothing he was puzzled for a moment before he turned towards the water. There a shadowy figure stood from what he could only assume was a small boat. He reached up with his free hand and rubbed his eyes to be sure there was really something there as he took a few steps towards it. As his eyes adjusted further he could tell there wasn't anyone standing in the boat but something was indeed there. Words, he thought again.

"Hel- Hello!?" He half shouted into the darkness before saying in a much lower tone, "Am I going crazy?" He stood there silently afterword staring towards the boat. Had he really heard something? Maybe he'd been awake to long. These sort of thoughts ran through his head a mile a minutes as the seconds passed.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Rebecca Clarke Character Portrait: Mirena Prevex Character Portrait: Tia Kirby Character Portrait: Lyra Coltman Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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Xander kept a neutral face while Tia snapped at him. The only thing gave away how angry he was, was his right hand curled itself into a fist. Lyra was a bit taken back. She hadn't figured that she would react like that. However, she used to do the same thing when she was younger. Now, she did what her brother told her to do. "Objection noted. I'm the boss here because, I know what it takes to survive in this hell. Now, Lyra will give you something to eat, finish that water bottle and off to bed. I'm done hearing about this." His voice was level the entire time, he then took a deep breath and turned to Rena. His fist released and his attitude changed.

"No sandwich, sorry. Got a can of bread if you want that, if not. Just go through my pack and look for something. You want it, it's yours. Now, I'm going to leave my bag here and take that pack," as he finished talking he lightly grabbed the pack of cigarettes and headed out. He slammed the pack against his hand and opened it. He stuffed the trash in his pocket and grabbed a smoke. He checked his pocket for his lighter and sighed. It died last week. He hadn't gotten the chance to find another one. He decided to search the kitchen. He opened a drawer and found a book of matches. He opened it and saw that there was only 3 left, "Guess, if she has cigarettes then I could bum a light every now and again." He light a match and light his cigarette. As he inhaled the smoke he felt his nerves to calm down. He headed out to the garage.

"Hey Becky. I'm here to help you push that truck. I said I would." Xander said after letting a breath of smoke out.

Meanwhile...

After Xander left Lyra turned to Tia, "I'm sorry about that. He's under a lot of stress, everybody is a lot of stress I guess." Lyra didn't know what to say. She was used to being told what to do. Xander usually knew best. That doesn't mean she didn't have an opinion about the things he choose to do. He didn't have to bark orders, but that's how the world works. Lyra sighed and said, "Alright, we have some of everything here, peaches, pineapples, pears, beans, and bread." Lyra said taking the cans out of Xanders' pack.

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Character Portrait: Mirena Prevex Character Portrait: Tia Kirby Character Portrait: Lyra Coltman Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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Her Grandaddy used to curl his fist and speak levelly like that too, Tia recalled. Usually it was when DeShaun, as a youngster, had had a brush with the law, committed some petty crime or other. His reasoning, DeShaun had explained to Tia not long before he left for university, was that, at their lowly station in life, any misstep could spell disaster - jail, drug addiction, even crippling injury or death. The stakes were the same now, Tia realised, and this man was fighting for his family's life as hard, harder even, than her Grandaddy had fought for her, DeShaun and Emeli. She pulled down her hood as she lowered her gaze from his. 'Sorry,' she mumbled as he turned away, and sat meekly until he stomped downstairs again.

She supped at the water bottle as Lyra made excuses for her brother. She sounded hesitant, surprised by the outburst, and busied herself with his pack. Tia glanced up at Rena for her reaction to the shouting match. 'Guess I shoulda kept it shut up,' Tia ventured. 'I didn't mean to upset anyone. Thanks for taking me in.' But as Lyra listed the cans in her brother's pack, Tia felt a spark of rebellion rise from deep within. 'Still, I made it here on my own. He ain't the only one still living.'

However, her weakness returned with a vengance as she tried to open a can of peaches. Her shaking hands could barely grasp the ring pull, and it spun from her grasp half open, the jagged metal cutting her index finger deeply. Tia cried out as blood quickly welled up in the cut and spilled down her wrist. The half-opened can lay on the bed next to her, spilling its juice.

Tia felt the tears prick the back of her eyes, and slapped her hands to her face to hide them. She'd already fallen twice and been shouted down in front of Rena and Lyra; she didn't want to humiliate herself further. She took a deep breath to calm herself again, and scooped up the can, drinking off the rest of the juice and swallowing loudly. She licked the last drops from her lips, and tasted the sharp rich salt of her own blood where her finger had bled on her cheek. She rolled her eyes at Lyra. 'Oh my days, what kind of a mess am I?'

She undid the bandana from round her neck, poured the last drops of the water onto it, and wrapped it round her cut finger. Pulling open the can, she tentatively got to her feet and walked slowly back to the room Kieran had put her in first. She climbed into bed, fished one of the slippery pieces of fruit out of the can, and promptly fell asleep.

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Character Portrait: Fr Pat O'Brien Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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The man on the bank called back hesitantly, and Fr Pat made up his mind. The man sounded surprised and cautious, and was definitely alone. He didn't appear aggressive, and a quick chinwag on the bank with him couldn't hurt. The idea of another travelling companion, or even just five minutes in the presence of anything but his own thoughts, was deeply attractive. He could always leave again if things turned sour, Fr Pat reasoned. He would stay close to his boat. He patted his little pistol in his pocket for the first time in days, just to be sure.

'I'm coming in,' he called to the man on the bank. 'Okay with you?' He sat up and poled his boat through the current slowly, rather than turning his back on the man to row. Better safe than sorry. As his boat bumped the bank, he got a better view of the man; hat and beard, a red shirt, about his own height. He seemed dazed, as if he'd just woken up. Fr Pat pulled off his motorcycle helmet and held his palms out to the man as he sat in his boat. 'See? No guns. Can you put your weapon down?'

Fr Pat pulled himself out of the boat and the two eyed each other warily. 'I'm Pat,' he said. 'I saw your fire from the other bank. What you cooking there?'

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#, as written by KJA
-Delete, Site bugged out-

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Character Portrait: Rebecca Clarke Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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#, as written by KJA
Leaning up from the Jeep’s open hood Becky turned her attention to Xander as he approached. Setting her ratchet down on top of the engine block she grabbed up the rag and cleaned her greasy hands as Xander spoke. Nodding in response Becky moved out of the garage, opening the truck driver door she spoke as she let off the hand break and moved to the back of the flatbed beside him ‘Sorry for the dramatics earlier Xander. Kieran was worried about that girl, kept saying about how she needed her electrolytes sortin’ out.’ Shortly after Becky’s response both of them pushed their weight against the back, rolling the truck into the empty garage bay.

Offering Xander a thankful utterance and nod Becky moved back over to the Jeep and continued to work the ratchet on the block ‘There’s quite the cache of tools in here. Figured I would collect some of the bigger and blunter ones for weapons if you think anyone needs them, I’ll be taking some either way if you didn’t want us to stay past the morning.’ Xander hadn’t given her any indication that was the case but she didn’t want to assume they were welcome without any approval.

Regardless of Xander’s response regarding their stay Becky would keep focused on her work and offer a mere nod in acknowledgement. ‘Got the time Xander?’ she asked, listening to his response she turned her eyes over to him as she responded in tow ‘The Charger had a whole gas can’s worth still in it, siphoned it out. Just come over and let me know when you want me to take point for the night.’

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Character Portrait: Fr Pat O'Brien Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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His heart jumped as he heard the man speak again. He situated his grip on his weapon suddenly having second thoughts about the whole situation. What if the man was a murderer and tried to fight him. In his current state Randal didn't think he could do more then a few swings and they sure wouldn't be very coordinated. But he silently watched as the man slowly came forward in the boat until it had hit the shore. The man would then show his hands and claim to have no weapons. Randal sure didn't trust him but he didn't have a choice the decision had been made when he first spoke.

After slowly lowering his weapon and loosening his grip he eyed the man taking in his features now that he was clearly illuminated by the glow of the fire. He noticed the Jacket first and then realized the man was wearing all black but you could tell he'd been traveling for a time. He was definitely older then Randal but he wasn't really sure how much. Most of the very few people he had met since this started looked rather ragged to begin with. After the man introduced himself as Pat and explained why he'd happened upon him the two of them were just left silently staring at one another.

"Tuna. I have another can." Randal had decided to trust the man for at least the night. He knew it was much safer for him in this condition just having another person nearby. "Name's Randal. Do you have anything to contribute?" His eyes darted to the boat for a second before back to the man. This was going to be a very interesting time if anything.

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Character Portrait: Fr Pat O'Brien Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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'Contribute?' Fr Pat repeated. For so long, he'd thought he'd spent his life contributing, to his parishoners' spiritual and emotional well-being. Their physical well-being too, when St Jenny's held soup kitchens and charity drives. The idea that he helped and healed had been core to his identity for as long as he could remember, and now the very foundations of his way of life had been torn asunder. And not by the rise of the Dead.

'Contribute. Yes, contribute,' he replied, snapping out of his reverie. He yanked up his pack from where it lay next to his club in the boat and pulled a tin of beans from it. 'We could cook these up along your tuna?' He paused momentarily, then reached back into his back. 'And then, how bout some of this?' He waved a 100g bar of chocolate. 'Been saving it for a special occasion. Finding a fire and a friend is as special as it gets these days, I guess.'

Fr Pat hunkered down next to the fire, on the side closest to the riverbank, and nestled the now open tin of beans into the fire. There was no feeling of danger from Randal - in fact the bearded man appeared as glad to see Fr Pat as Fr Pat was to see him. Although he seemed in general good shape and was uninjured as far as Fr Pat could see, Randal seemed exhausted. Perhaps the richness of chocolate and a good night's sleep would set him straight.

'So have you come far at all, Randal?' Fr Pat asked. 'Did you see that herd up at Fort AP Hill? Terrible business, terrible business altogether. I think the army's losing this fight all over. Man and his machines, hah?' He shook his head. 'I've come down from New York myself. I was a priest there. Lost two friends along the way.

He fell silent again and watched the food cook, leaving it to Randal. It was his fire after all. A branch shifted in the flames spitting up embers and Fr Pat leant back. He realised he'd been dozing. 'Sorry,' she grinned sheepishly at his new companion. 'Old man falling asleep by the fire, just like the good old days. I was going to sleep out on my boat, but it's good to have a fire, isn't it? And I haven't seen any of the Dead down here, they're all up at AP Hill. Will I take the first watch?'

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Character Portrait: Fr Pat O'Brien Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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He watched the man as he seemed to space out some before replying and pulling forth a can of beans. Then he also produced a bar of chocolate and Randal couldn't help but grin. It had been a very long time since he'd had chocolate. \

"Yeah, these days seems like just opening your eyes is as much a curse as a blessing." Randal began the process of creating something delicious for them as he listened to Pat.

"A priest from New York? I was living in Montana when I first found out what was going on." He stopped his train of thought instead deciding to respond to his second question. "I heard a lot of gunfire but for the most part was avoiding it. They are attracted to sound so, it's inevitable that I would get into trouble going towards it."

He paused for a moment tending to the food he was concentrating on. The smell of tuna and baked beans slowly began to permeate the air. His stomach growled intensely again and he spoke to take his mind off of it. "I'm not sure what is going on with the military. I assume many are dead and just as many went home to be with family. Whomever are left probably don't have any serious chain of command outside the base and whatever orders they had last. I'm no expert but it doesn't look like there have been too many organized efforts lately."

He grinned at the thought of them sitting around the fire and all of a sudden helicopters with search lights and men in full uniform coming from all directions to save them from this reality. They'd have to fight off a horde or two just from the noise they made to save them. But they'd do it because it would be awesome. His mind was definitely beginning to wander.

The food finished and he offered the Priest half of everything before saying, "When we are done, you are first watch. At this point, I'm so out of it I would probably fall asleep fighting." And with that he began to eat awaiting his answer and then deciding whether or not to literally curl up and pass out.

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Character Portrait: Fr Pat O'Brien Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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His back was warm. His stomach was full. He'd had a conversation for the first time in days. Fr Pat felt pretty good as he settled down to take the first watch. The chocolate tasted better than he could have imagined it. He nibbled it like a child to make it last.

Behind him, Randal appeared to be settling down to sleep. He'd seemed on the verge of nodding off even as they'd eaten. Now, as Fr Pat sat with his back to the fire so he could watch the approaches on land, he weighed up his new companion. Apart from the tiredness, he appeared to be holding up well - nothing a good night's sleep wouldn't cure. He had adequete supplies, the resourcefulness to light a fire, he appeared in good health, and he'd come all the way from Montana! Anyone who could make that 2,000-mile journey must be a hardy soul indeed. He wondered whether Randal had come all that way by himself, or if he'd made friends along the way. And why hadn't he found anywhere to hole up along the way? He'd paused for thought when he'd mentioned Montana. Some family tragedy, perhaps? Fr Pat resolved to ask him about it tomorrow.

He shifted his weight from one numb buttock to the other. He'd have to let the fire burn down. It was warming, life-affirming, it blocked out the dark, and not just physically, but it was too much of a risk to keep alight all night. Randall's watch would be cold. If every one of the Dead in the area had been drawn to Fort AP Hill, that meant that every one of them would soon start wandering away from Fort AP Hill. That meant the area wasn't safe. Fr Pat shuddered as he recalled the mound of moaning creatures piling up against the fences, then toppling them. Nowhere was safe for very long.

Getting up to stretch his legs, Fr Pat tried to recall Fr Joseph's map. He had been keeping an eye out for a replacement but the only one he'd seen had been in a car just before the Harry Nice bridge, and that car had been home to one of the Dead, forever trapped by its seatbelt, growling as it wore a deep sore across its chest as it struggled to escape. Richmond was the next big urban area due south, he remembered. Then Newport and Norfolk along the coast. No, these cities would all have suffered the same savagry that befell New York and Washington. Perhaps it would be better to head inland, away from cities and roads. Randal would know about this kind of living. Fr Pat resolved to ask him about it tomorrow.

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Character Portrait: Mirena Prevex Character Portrait: Tia Kirby Character Portrait: Lyra Coltman Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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The girls eyes went a little wide at Tia's outburst, however she quickly gave a nutrual face. She didn't want to seem suprised, even though she was. Then again, she could understand it. She used to hate when she was given orders. When it was all over and Xander turned to her she gave a small smile. "Alright, thank you." She said and bowed her head a little. When he walked out, she gazed at the bag and shrugged. "Can't be too picky in times like these." She mumbled with a small laugh at the end, which was to hopefully ease a little of the tention. "I guess I'll take some of the bread." She said then mused the idea of bread in a can. She had never heard of it, but was willing to try anything edible at this moment.
She got up and got the can from Lyra and gave her thanks. After opening it she couldn't help but to give a very small snicker, the thought still amusing her in her tired state. When Tia started talking, she flashed her a small smile of understanding. "I wouldn't worry. We are all stressed here and he should know that." She looked to Lyra, who she figured could word things better, since she indeed knew him better than anyone else there.
She gazed back to Coon, who was curled up in her lap once again. She smiled at him but her attention swiftly moved to Tia when she cried out. Her eyes got wide and she attempted to jump up, however fell back onto her but where she was. "Shit..." She mummbled before trying it again, making it to her feet this time. However, Tia had already pulled off her bandanna and wrapped her finger. "Wow, today just isn't your day." Rena mummbled as she watched her. "You alright?" She asked but wasn't sure Tia heard her. When Tia jumped up and walked out of the room, Rena shook her head, hoping that she was alright.
As she sat there, sleep started to consume her more and more, until her head leaned against the wall. "I should get up..." She mumbled to herself but decided to not fight it. After all, she was only given the one night, she might as well make the best of it while she could. As her head leaned against the wall she slowly let herself drifted off.

"Hey, keep up." Logan told her as she started to fall behind as they walked. "Sorry" She said as she jogged a little to catch up with him. Her eyes started to water as she gazed at her brother. "Logan..." She whispered but he didn't seem to hear. They continued to walk a little more before coming upon a few walkers. His gun was raised and he motioned for her to come closer to him. "Alright, you pop off the first shot. I want to see how your aim is." Rena nodded, raising her gun and aiming at the first walker who still hadn't noticed them. Suddenly, the creature turned and gave a odd growling. Rena panicked and pulled the trigger. "Good" Logan praised her with a small chuckle before popping the other two with his gun. Rena gave a small smile before hearing growling behind her. Quickly she turned but was suddenly pulled back. "Logan!" She screamed as a horde of walkers charged them. She shot as many as she could before having to reload. She tried her best to cover Logan but the walkers seemed to multiply. "Damnit, Logan lets go!" She screamed, shooting a few more of the monsters. "RUN!" Logan commanded as a walker latched onto his arm and took a chunk out of his shoulder. "LOGAN!" Rena screamed as her body ran, though she tried to stop herself.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rebecca Clarke Character Portrait: Kieran Adams Character Portrait: Mirena Prevex Character Portrait: Tia Kirby Character Portrait: Katie Halesworth Character Portrait: Lyra Coltman Character Portrait: Minya Polack Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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Xander stepped outside and looked towards the moon. It wasn't even halfway overhead and it rose a bit after the sun went down. If he had to guess, "It's roughly 7. That's what I can tell. I used to be able to tell the time of day from looking at the sun. I got really good at it." He took a look at the things she said could be used as weapons. Not much, the wrenches could be useful. However, they had certain flaws to them. "If you think they could be good, you can take them. As for watch, keep an ear open for walkers or bandits. So, keep doing what your doing but, be vigilant."

He finished his smoke and tossed it on the ground. He grounded it and headed inside the house. He saw Kieran on the couch and smirked. He headed up the stairs and checked one of the hall closets. He found a pile of blankets. He grabbed them and put a few of them on the ground in front of the room where his sister was. He knocked on the door like he used to when he left her dinner infront of the door. It was the old 'Shave and a Haircut,' knock. He left before Lyra could open the door. He took the rest and headed downstairs. He was going to check to see if that guy in the basement wanted a blanket. It couldn't hurt to ask. As he made his way to the basement he decided to put a blanket on the sleeping EMT. Xander took a quick look at the designs of the blankets and decided to drape the pink floral one on the man. He needed a good laugh. Xander wanted to take a picture. He chuckled as he headed down stairs, "I'm coming down, It's just me." He said as he started down the stairs. He was surprised about how dark it was.

"I brought some blankets. Man, how can you see down here? It's really dark." Xander said as his eyes adjusted to the almost dark. He look around and didn't see the boy. He shrugged and put a blanket on a work bench. He went back up the stairs and decided to look for the boy. He searched the house finding the boy talking to Katie. "I found some extra blankets, I put one in the basement for you. I'm curious on why you have animal bones... Well everywhere?"

Elsewhere...

Lyra grabbed a can of pineapples. She looked at the can and sighed, it was her and her brother's favorite fruit. He would have told her to eat it. Her plan was to give it to him for his dinner. She decided to do what her brother would have told her to do. It was for the best. "Xander... hasn't had the easiest life in the world. I know, by the looks of it... None of us has had an easy life. His life has been harder than mine by a long shot." Lyra said. She started to open the can when Tia cut her finger. She started up but, Lyra realized that she had it under control. "Don't worry sweetie I've seen worse. You just need sleep." Lyra was happy to see her go to her room. She shut the door behind Tia. She finished off her pineapple.

She leaned against the wall and started dozing. She came to her senses when she saw Rena start to get up. She chuckled as she saw her fail. A bit after Rena fell asleep she heard the knock on the door. Lyra smiled as she remembered the times before. She got up and opened the door. There was a stack of three blankets on the floor. She picked one up and threw one over the girl. Lyra thought about the times when Xander would through the holiest of blankets on her when she fell asleep on the couch. She smiled at the memory. She wanted more of the good ones. She took the rest with her as she went to Tia's room. She threw one blanket on the ground and draped the other one around the sleeping girl. She smiled and watched Tia for a few minutes. Lyra turned and left. She was getting tired. It had been a long day. She decided to go back to Rena's room. She laid down and used Xander's pack as a pillow. She got under the blanket and fell asleep.

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Character Portrait: Katie Halesworth Character Portrait: Minya Polack Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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Minya perkered up from hearing Xander behind him. He never liked people sneaking up on him, though that probably wasn't what he was trying to do. His question wasn't one that he had heard before, but it was normally before someone attempted to rob him of his belongings. "I was a taxidermist before all of this so every part of the animal had a use for us." he said simply as he pet the dog and stood up again. "These days, I've had to fight for my food and hunt it, and I have to used to the rest of the body for something. Why not use it at armor and weapons." The last part was a half truth. If he told him that he was a bandit who only prayed on those who betrayed him and other bandits, he didn't think that the man would let him stay in the house for too long.

"Either way, thank you. If you need anything, I'll actually be in the basement." He said as he walked past him. He made his way back down to the cellar, wandering around in it as he started to adjust his eyes to the dark. He grabbed the blanket and spread out on the floor before sitting down. The dark had been his home for the past three months, some where that he felt some semblence of safety for the time being. Sure, it wasn't safe to travel in the dark. But who said desprate times didn't make a dangerous time of day safe.

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Character Portrait: Katie Halesworth Character Portrait: Lyra Coltman Character Portrait: Minya Polack Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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Xander nodded as the boy went back down to the basement. He told Katie to head up to the attic. It was a great look out point for them right now. Xander found himself a bed and laid down. His exhaustion was his worst enemy, he tried fighting the sleep as long as possible, then he slipped away to a light slumber that he had gotten used to.

"Lyra, we're gonna make it... I swear." Xander looked over and saw a group of walkers coming right for him and his sister. He tried to help his sister up. However, her leg was battered up. She wasn't going to stand anytime soon. He swore and pulled out his gun and stared firing in the group of walkers. When the clip was emptied, there was a good 4 walkers left. He picked up his bat on the ground and started swinging. He killed them all, but he had gotten bit in the process. Then a scream let out behind him. A walker was on top of Lyra. Xander didn't have enough time to kill it. What was supposed to be a scream came out as...

"Lyra!" Xander whispered as he shot up in the air. He looked around and saw that he was still in the mansion. He and his sister were still safe for now. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He wasn't going to let that happen to her. He decided to take over the watch, as he wasn't going to go back to sleep. He headed up to the attic and relieved Katie of guard duty. He watched and waited for the sunrise...

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Character Portrait: Mirena Prevex Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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Rena's eyes flew open just as her body hit the floor. She gasped, as if she had been running a marathon while pushing herself up from the floor, back into a sitting position. Coon mad a small squeak before climbing up her and nuzzling her face. "Morning Coon." She whispered before petting him. After rubbing her eyes she searched her back her the open pack of smokes and then opened the window once again.

Her gaze moved to the trees and the sun that had yet to rise fully into the sky. "Its wayy too early.." she thought while lighting up a smoke. She took a long and deep drag, that was well needed. After exhaling she decided to go down stairs. Maybe the old place had some coffee somewhere.

She slowly made her way downstairs with Coon on her shoulder. As she came to the bottom of the stairs she noticed Xander. She flashed a small smile before pointing to the kitchen. "Do you know if there is any coffee in there?" She asked, doubtful but also hopeful.

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Character Portrait: Fr Pat O'Brien Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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He was deeply asleep when the priest tried to wake him. At first he didn't respond but soon he roused enough to groggily stare at the thing which had just quickly aroused a deep anger within him. 'Randal, Randal. Sorry, it's almost a sin to wake you, but it's your watch. You okay there? I let the fire burn down, sorry, but better safe than sorry.' The words came slow but he had heard them none the less. Shifting from his sprawled out position he slowly began to raise himself to his feet.

"Understood." He spat them out with a bit of malice but he hoped it wasn't noticed. He didn't mean to be angry it was merely the sheer lack of sleep and seemingly sudden awakening of him after having just fallen asleep. As he stood he surveyed his surroundings looking to the fire he could tell there was definitely going to be some coals he could use. He gazed up at the night's sky and from what he could quickly tell it was close to dawn. He then looked to the tree-line scanning it for movement in the still darkness. During this time his companion was preparing himself for sleep. Randal wouldn't go far as the man had lived up to the trust he'd placed in him and would return the favor.

Stepping a bit of a way from where his pack lay he proceed to do a few stretches to partially prepare himself for the day but to mostly wake himself up. After his morning stretches he moved back to the pack and procured his canteen and took a few sips from it. Setting it down he got out his pot and poured the rest of it into the pot. Moving to the coals he set the pot down beside him and began messing with the coals with one of the partially burned sticks. After preparing it he set the pot on top of them before standing up again.

Moving back to the river he refilled his canteen with the water before moving about the general area of their campsite looking for pretty much anything of use. Twigs, greenery, useful items that may have been coincidentally discard without care and gone unfound and unloved by all until Randal himself mysteriously finds them. But of course he doesn't find anything of the sort and eventually the daylight breaks and he resides himself to whittling away at a few of the nicer sticks he'd found turning most of them into makeshift spears.

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Character Portrait: Kieran Adams Character Portrait: Tia Kirby Character Portrait: Lyra Coltman
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Tia was woken by the throbbing in her finger, then gasped drily at how thirsty she was. There was a dull ache between her temples. It was only once her physical discomforts had registered with her that she realised she was lying in a bed, for the first time since she'd fled Baltimore. She stretched out her arms and legs, waving them like she was making a snow angel. Damn, it was a big bed too, not like the narrow camper in the room she'd shared with her sister in her grandparents' cramped home. She rolled over, just because she'd never been able to roll over in a bed before without falling out, then rolled back again. Her eyes fell on an open can of peaches on the bedside locker. Tia grabbed it and drank down the juice, the segments of fruit falling against her nose as she upended the can for every last drop of sweet, sticky refreshment. Satisfied, she nestled back into the bed - she didn't even remember getting into it last night - and nibbled on a couple of pieces of peach. Though she was ravenous, she was used to conserving food - she hadn't felt full for weeks - and besides, who knew if her stay in this house would last any longer than her night's sleep.

Putting the three-quarters full can to one side, Tia dared a peek at her finger. The cut wasn't deep, and had scabbed during the night, but it was in an awkward spot; every time she made a fist or fully opened her hand, the cut threatened to open again. Kieran, she recalled with a start. Kay, the medic. He might have a bandage, if he was still in the house, that was. And who else was in the house? Tia could hear voices elsewhere in the house, and recalled exhausted and upset Rena, angry Xander and his push-over sister Lyra. Had Kay been with someone too? Tia couldn't remember much between finally escaping Green Bandana and Craig, snatches of conversation with Kay and her confrontation with Xander.

She helped herself to another slice of peach - You gonna get fat, girl, she joked to herself - then rolled herself out of bed. Damn, she hadn't even got undressed last night. She hadn't even taken off her sneakers. The sheets she'd lain in were grimy and her bandana, sticking out from under her pillow, was bloodied. Tia held a hand up to her head, checking for other injuries, then stuffed the bandana in her pocket, shrugging. She grabbed her hatchet, but left her revolver on the locker.

On her way to the stairs, Tia peeked in the door next to hers. Lyra lay on the floor next to Xander's back. Tia remembered where her can of peaches came from, and snuck into the room and dragged a blanket back over the girl's sleeping form. Rena's stuff was still in the room; the fresh smell of cigarette smoke told Tia Rena had risen already.

Still making only the faintest of sounds, Tia crept down the wide staircase. She thought she smelled coffee brewing from somewhere and was about to go find the kitchen, when she saw through an open door beside her a familiar red head sticking out from under a pink blanket on a couch. She slipped in and sat on the floor opposite the sleeping Kay. His face, though still lined with worry, looked far less worn than it had as he sat by her bed yesterday. A line of sun lanced through a crack in the curtains. In a couple of minutes, Tia guessed, it would traverse Kay's face. She settled down to wait.

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Character Portrait: Rebecca Clarke Character Portrait: Kieran Adams Character Portrait: Tia Kirby
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#, as written by KJA
'I'm home!' Kieran called out as he dropped his keys into a bowl near the front door of the house. Slipping his arms out of the EMT jacket he continued as he settled in from the day's grind 'Had the strangest call today. Some old vagrant attacked a young woman in the park, she's okay through. The old bloke seemed to run off before we got there.' Kieran knotted his brow at the lack of response, walking through to the kitchen he called out 'Chloe? You asleep again?' pouring a glass of cold water from the facet before stepping into the living room. Standing in the doorway Kieran smirked taking a small sip of the glass 'C'mon sweetheart wake up. Some of us have been busy today' he spoke to the back of his wife's head as it sat heavily against the back of the sofa facing the television. 'Chloe?' Kieran rasped with concern and a wet throat as he approached the sofa.

Seeping over his closed lids the sun acted as his saving grace from one of his least favourite slumber topics. Wincing his eyes Kieran's blood shot vision looked square into the source before he shielded the light with a raised hand. Blinking heavily he cleared his throat with a few unpleasant noises behind his closed lips.

Shit. I'm still alive and she's still dead.

Coming to his senses mentally with that thought and physically with adjusting vision Kieran looked over at Tia offering her a thin smile 'You're looking a lot better.'

Meanwhile...

Becky had been busy throughout the night on the vehicles. The truck fixed. The Jeep now up and running, to the point she spent a few hours dismantling the block to make sure there wasn't a single issue. Just in case anyone wanted her on guard anyway. Eventually the physical work drained her, sat upright she fell asleep against one of the Jeep's tires. Rifle cradled over her lap.

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Character Portrait: Fr Pat O'Brien Character Portrait: Randal Fergason
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The rising sun woke Fr Pat gently; he flicked open his eyes and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. Perhaps it was a result of sleeping while someone was on watch, but he hadn't had a better night's rest in what felt like years. Someone used watch over you every night, Pat, he mused to himself.

He levered himself upright and stretched, trying to drive the cramps and knots of the night on hard ground from his muscles. Randal had got the fire going again. Fr Pat took up the pot they'd cooked in last night and stomped down to the river's edge. After splashing his face, he filled the pot, and set it over the fire to boil. He took out a couple of strips of jerky from his pack; it wasn't much but, rehydrated and heated, it would make a passable breakfast. He stretched again, looking up at the rising sun and taking in the sounds of river wildlife waking for another day. No matter what happened to humans, Fr Pat mused, there would still be this kind of tranquil beauty. Perhaps there would be more of it in the world now.

He went back to his pack, took out a small item from the bottom, and returned to camp. 'Will you pray with me, Randal?' he asked, hesitantly, holding out his crucifix in two hands to hide the shaking. He hadn't prayed with someone for months. When he, Fr Joeseph and Fr Arnold had been barricaded in St Jenny's, he would stand watch seething as the two younger men communed with God. Out on the road, when it had just been the two of them, he would pretend to be asleep as Fr Joeseph prayed every morning and evening. Why had the impulse come upon him now?

Fr Pat sank to his creaking knees, holding the crucifix in his joined hands. Resisting the temptation to add 'if you're there', he began: 'Lord, thank you for this food we are about to consume.' He had begun simply. Every child in Ireland learned the prayer before meals at the earliest age. 'Thank you for this moment of peace, and help us apperciate the beauty of Your creation. Lord, bless this man Randal, and bless his dear ones. Fr Pat glanced over at Randal, unsure of the man's reaction. It had angered Fr Pat when Fr Joseph and Fr Arnold had prayed for him. Heavenly Father, Bless my friends and Your humble servants, Father Joseph and Father Arnold, and bring them eternal rest by your side. And ... His voice cracked and fell to an almost-whisper. And bless me, Lord, help me with the burdens you have seen fit to place before me. He paused in case Randal wanted to add anything, then lifted the crucifix to his lips. Amen.

He blinked to clear his eyes, and looked around him. The sun was a little higher. Birds twittered nearby and the river flowed slowly. He felt no different to before, except glad that he'd been able to conduct this small act of faith without halting in cynical revulsion. Perhaps that was all that was left. Perhaps it was the start of something new. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, then fished the softened jerky out of the pot. 'Well, I suppose after breakfast, we'd better make a start,' he said. 'Where should we be going?'

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Character Portrait: Kieran Adams Character Portrait: Mirena Prevex Character Portrait: Tia Kirby Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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As the sun rose Xander decided that he would head to the kitchen to see if there was anything left. He walked down the stairs thinking about what was going to happen when everybody woke up. He opened the cabinet above the sink and found the china. It was pretty fine but, it would break easily and weigh a ton. Xander opened a cabinet above the counter it was bare. However, he couldn't see into the deepest parts. He reached in and his fingers brushed up against something plastic. He grabbed it and saw it was a half a bottle of instant coffee. "Dear God, I thought I would never have coffee again." He opened the top and the room was filled with the sweet aroma of coffee. He inhaled deeply and exhaled. He heard somebody come down the stairs. He smiled when he saw Rena.

"You may not believe this... But, yes we have coffee. Instant, but it's coffee. So... we need water, and a lot of it. I'll look for a way to boil the water, you just get the water. Can't be that hard." Xander said putting the bottle on the counter and spied a kettle on the stove. "If fact fill this. It should be enough for all of us." He said to her before she left. Xander opened the stove and saw the trays. He grabbed one and headed outside. He passed Tia and Kieran, "Morning, I found Instant Coffee. I'll let you know when it's ready." He tossed the tray on the ground and started to look around for some rocks.

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Character Portrait: Kieran Adams Character Portrait: Tia Kirby Character Portrait: Lyra Coltman Character Portrait: Xander Coltman
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He frowned as the ray of light settled on his face, and craned his neck to remove his sleeping eyes from its glare. To no avail, the light soon crept up on Kieran again, and he frowned and winced as he awoke. A fleeting look of desperation hollowed his face, giving him a drawn, skeletal appearance, before he snapped fulling awake and returned to normal, smiling at her. 'Nice blanket, Kay,' Tia smirked. 'You're looking a lot better,' he mumbled, clearing his throat. 'Yeah,' she replied, looking round her, not meeting his gaze. 'Thanks for picking me up yesterday, I - ' She broke off. She didn't want to admit, to herself more than to Kieran, that she'd been just about done in. To have come this far, to have been this close to DeShaun's campus, to have survived so much, and not to have made it...

'Morning,' Xander said in passing. He didn't seem any less gruff than he had last night. 'I found instant coffee. I'll let you know when it's ready.' And he was gone again. 'Ugh, Mister Grumpypants,' Tia whispered to Kieran, grinning. Then she sprang to her feet in a flurry of thin arms and legs. 'Stay here, sleepy head, I'll get you some breakfast.'

She dashed lightly up the stairs to her room - her room? would they be staying long enough to claim rooms? - and got her open can of peaches. Passing the next room, she peeked inside at Lyra, still sleeping under the blanket she'd repositioned over her. Then her eyes fell on Rena's packet of cigarettes. Tia slid inside the half-open door and stepped lightly around the sleeping figure. Holding her breath, she slid one of the smokes from the packet, put it in her deep hoodie pocket, and tiptoed out again.

'Here, peaches,' she said, putting the can down next to Kieran's couch. 'They're Xander's and Lyra's really, but they don't mind sharing.' She thought for a minute, her head on one side. 'They're pretty cool really, letting us stay here, don't ya think?' She fished another slice of peach from the tin, held it lengthways in her teeth and gave Kieran a peachy grin and a wink, then turned on her heel and left.

Tia stood in the front door, swallowing her peach and watching the sun on Xandar's broad back as he wandered, his eyes cast down. As she started towards him, he bent down, picked up a rock and hefted it in his hand. Tia paused momentarily, wondering whether he was safe after all. Still, she'd slept safely, his sister had fed her. Those weren't the actions of someone who wished her harm. Nonetheless, she kept back about six feet when she came up and said: 'What ya doing? Collecting stones, huh?' She looked at the surrounding countryside as it came into focus as the rising sun burnt off the dawn haze. 'You and Lyra got a nice place. Pretty safe, huh?' She looked back at Xander. 'Sorry bout last night, all the shouting. I was pretty messed up. I got ya this.' She held out the cigarette, then started scanning the ground for stones similar to that Xander had picked up.

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