Michael said "Alright Vinny. I'm gonna take a shot. I'm running for the main doors" Michael then sprinted off from the group to the mall's main doors. Surprisingly there where not many zombies in front of the mall. He picked off a few and then got to the doors. He bashed his gun through the window to get in and as he entered the mall he looked around.
A fountain running in the middle, all the lights were on, most stores where gated closed, and music was playing. It looked nice and safe.
Michael signaled the others to come but as he raised his arm, waiving them in, he felt a sharp pain in the back of the arm.
He fell forward as his left arm was just shot.
"Who the Fuck are you" A voice yelled from behind. The man then stood over Michael and repeated it. Michael then barely got a grip on his gun and yelled "I'm the fucking Grim Reaper!" and shot the man square in the head. He stood up and went to the gate to once again try and get the group to get over there as his arm bleed all over.
Sosa will change the subtitle of the topic when we are accepting new characters, I'm certain. Besides, if you read fully back into the story, there is no way you COULD be traveling. L.A. is completely under siege from sand and violent weather, and traveling is sort of out of the question when you're in a zombie apocalypse situation.
Also, DAMN YOU SOSA, I was being sarcastic.
Terrence's blood runs cold at the grotesque sight of the creature that seemed to be using them for pitching practice, and the zombies that completely abandon Malachi's half-devoured corpse. "Dammit! I gave them a free meal for nothing!
Shouting over the roar of the charging creatures, Terrence's voice is almost a shrill whistle "We can't! If we try to get into the mall, that thing will just smash the doors right open! We have to lose it or take it down before we get there!" Glancing ahead of him, he is comforted by the sight of Rayne, Nikki, Thompson and Liz all a good twenty feet ahead of him, Vinny, and Michael. As they rushed through the doors, Terrence realized the cold truth of what they may have to do.
His mind pumping furiously, Terrence searches for some way to distract the creatures without causing harm to his group. Only one idea loomed in his head, but he quickly brushed it away. "There has to be another way!"
"No shit" Michael says while blood tracks behind him. He runs up to a mall map and says "The security post is upstairs lets try and get there. Watch out though I bet that there are more hostile people in here after the first one"
Michael ask Vinny "Do we have anyone with us with medicine background? I need to get this bullet out soon. I'm bleeding all over the place. We also need to patch Thompson up. And where the hell is Terrance?"
Terrence puffs behind the group; his exertion in carrying Malachi's corpse apparently tore at his stamina. "G... go! Don't stop...*huff* for me! Go!" he shouts, clutching at his side; his hand is shining red with blood.
"Dammit..." he thinks. "This isn't how it was supposed to happen... I was supposed to get married, have some kids, buy a house, become a senile old man back in San Francisco..." He chuckles slightly, grimacing at the shot of pain resounding up his ribcage. Turning his hand, he sees it slick with blood. Laughing aloud, he staggers against a wall. "I... don't want to die... not yet." A tear runs down his cheek. "Please... Please God! Don't let me die!"
OH DAYUM WHAT HAPPENS TO POOR LITTLE TERRENCE NAO.
Seriously, though. I don't know. I felt the scene needed more tears and near-death.
It might be that Terrence is beloved by everybody, where as Michael is a fairly new face. Also, Michael got shot in the arm. Terrence is fatigued, bleeding from a severe abdominal/torso laceration, and over twenty yards behind the group. I also painted a mental picture, characterizing him. Simple writing techniques, my friend ;D
Anyways. OMIGOSH D00DZ IS HE GON DIE?
I need to stop doing that.
Nikki runs over to Terrence, offering him some support in order for him to keep up with the group. As the question arises, she answers; "I don't know much about medicine, but I do have some bandages in my backpack!" She stops in her tracks, looking up at Terrence, waiting for that one very important answer.
<spoiler=OOC>Sorry if I seem inactive, it's just that I'm Swedish and most of the posts come up while I'm asleep.
<spoiler=Swedish>Indeed. I know exactly what you mean, now that I'm up in the morning, trying to get my sleep rythm fixed. I finally get some sleep
(in days) and the prize I pay is being one page behind. x)
Only logical though, I am not speaking against it at all. All is as it should be.
As Rayne is fighting off several zombies rampaging for her soft flesh, she notices Nikki running back to Terrence. Damn kid.
Gathering strength, she tackles her way through a group of the horde, them ripping and clawing at her vest, runs up to Terrence and Nikki and takes her stance, picking off numerous zombies on their way to devour the two.
"Hurry up, get going! To the mall!" She shouts at them.
As the pair staggers away towards the building, a trembling roar is heard behind them. Looking back, Nikki sees Rayne begin thrown back by a backhand blow delivered by the raging Tank. She hits the wall of a house, losing all her air. The Tank remains determined, and walks toward her with heavy steps, as she stirs and struggles to maintain consciousness.
Raising her handgun, she fires clumsily in a daze, the bullets finding their way to the rugged flesh of the large obstacle. As she regains her composure, she is able to aim more expertly, and the Tank staggers a bit, only slightly slowed down in its path.
<spoiler=Status><color=yellow>Caution
Michael comes running out side to try and help. He runs over to Rayne and helps her up when the tank hits Michael. Michael went flying through the air gushing blood from multiple locations and landed in front of the mall entrance. The tank then fixed it's gaze on Michael and started walking towards him.
My god, 2 days of not posting (Sorry, I was really busy with school work earlier T_T) and 3 new pages just fly out of no where.
Since it's been a while I think a quick recap of my character is in order:
Jessica "Blue" Constantine
Hidden in a shelter for 2 months, past unknown due to amnesia but has to leave because she ran out of supplies.
If you want more details about what's happened, I suggest you go back and read the posts.
.
-snip
Well, I'm finally out of the building, it only took me 3 days to do it too lol
Um, I need to stop here to get myself together, feel like my writing's dropped in quality a bit since my first post, and figure out an interesting way to get to someone else so I can stop writing chapters =)
<spoiler=too fullmetalmage> As a fellow isolated character maybe our two characters should meet up. I think a schizophrenic child would be the perfect addition to my chain smoking merc :3.
Christian lit the seconds last cigarette. He had too. Did he have too? yes, he had too. His hand was shaking so bad from the withdrawal he couldn't even properly bolt his SR-98. And it still had three shots. Probably his only weapon that was of any remedial sort of use. 'This is pathetic' he thought to himself grudgingly. 'Truly pathetic.' But he took a drag from the smoke anyway. It was refreshing, his hand stopped is violent vibration, for the next 15 seconds life was good .
No, this wasn't good. Not even remotely close to good. He had to change things. He took another long drag of the cigarette. Okay, 30 seconds of good life. The dead ash collapsed around his legs, further staining his pants. He was well beyond caring. Everything was dirty anyway. Inside was dirty, outside was absolutely filthy, and not just with the zombies. There was dust and sand everywhere too.
zombies. Christian sighed. He had killed men, women, even children. But zombies. Now that was something else entirely. If you had told him that he would one day be fighting against a horde of undead he would have laughed at your face.. and then punched it. But here it was, laid out before him. Zombies.
'if I ever get another tattoo.' thought Christian casually, 'I think it will be the words h.e.a.d and s.h.o.t across my knuckles. Yeah, that would be nice.' As he thought of tattoo's his spare hand absentmindedly went too his left shoulder blade where he had a tattoo of a Jolly Rodger, etched to look like it was blowing in the wind. 'h.e.a.d s.h.o.t.' Christian laughed at his own cleverness.
There was another noise from outside, a violent beating and scratching at the door. It had happened before, but never this aggressively. Maybe they really did want to get in to him. Well that just wouldn't do. It was probably getting on to time to go. Christian stood up as the beating of the door increased in tempo, violent and angry, accompanied by the moans and cries of lifeless husks. For some reasons the noise flashed Christians mind back to a mission he had been on last year out in Afghanistan, an in and out operation. Collect a case then extract. He had shot a man through the throat, a horrible way to die. As its slow and violent. Suffocating and bleeding to death at the same time. The noise was almost the same as the sound that had escaped that mans throat. almost .
Christian thought of the moment for several seconds as his hands automatically collect all the things around him, he had subconsciously turned on the lantern to make the task easier. But for some reason this was more unsettling. It wasn't because the noise was any worse. Nor was it any louder. No. It was because he had no choice in the matter, just like he had no choice in his throbbing headache from the lack of caffeine, or his shaking hands from the scant remaining cigarettes. He hated not having a choice in the matter. He hated not being in control of his own destiny. Luck be damned. He was going to go make his own luck, chose his own path. It would be just like in that moment with the dying man, he had chosen to watch the man roll around on the floor bleeding to death, begging for mercy. And now he was choosing to get the fuck out of here. He was going to live, luck or not.
<spoiler=phew> sorry its long.. Hopefully I'll be out of the building soon.. but HOW!??! actually I have a great idea that I hope you guys will like :3
"Rayne!" Nikki yells back at her, then turns to Terrence. "We have to help her!"
Veronica blasts away to her heart's content, surprised each time by the force of the pistol. Realizing soon that she overestimated the power of it, however, she notices that even with each bullet tearing through the mass of creatures, it doesn't appear to be doing much to stop them.
That terrifying "click" keeps ringing in her mind and she keeps pulling the trigger, hoping it'll somehow conjure more ammunition of its own volition. Finally she understands and puts the pistol in her pocket.
Now without her pistol to help her, she starts swinging her backpack wildly as she runs back to get Rayne. "Come on, we have to go!" She screams at Rayne with a shrill voice of frustration and helplessness.
As soon as Nikki sees her moving she offers a shoulder to lean on and starts going back to Terrence. Trying to keep the creatures back, she takes the first aid kit, sadly only containing bandages by now, out of the backpack with her teeth, then throws the backpack at the creature to slow them down and speed her up.
<spoiler=OOC>Attention, people, a Deus Ex Machina is about to happen.
Using his good arm, Vinny begins dragging Michael away from the Tank and it's horde. "Come on, Michael! You can still shoot!" Vinny shouts as the horde pursues.
Noticing the large Tank, Allen fires a few bullets left in his clip. Having little effect, and a empty clip, Allen reloads (Clips left: 9). "Get moving! I'll cover you!" Allen picks off a few more zeds. Unfortunatly, this attracted the Tank... "Crap! Die you SOB!" Wasting another clip, Allen empties bullets into the Tanks thick skull. "Get to the elevator! We can then take it and reach the second floor! GET MOVING!"
OOC: Sosakitty, you messed up my character description. Could you fix it?
As Rayne hampers along with the help of Nikki, she fires back at the horde closing in on them fast. Fuck. We're not going to make it. That huge thing lured too many of them here. It's gotta go down.
Regaining her determination, Rayne releases Nikki and kneels to the pavement. She aims her pistol with care and puts her skills to the test. As she steadily picks off one at a time, she begins humming at a melody. She knew she had to get through this group to be able to shoot at the large thing. An idea! Grabbing for a small pocket on the back of her belt, she takes out a smoke grenade. Flipping off the safety, releasing the pin, holding on to the trigger, roll! The grenade tumbles its way over the asphalt and makes a small puffing sound as gas begins ascending the air in front of the group of zombies. Many of them begin to moan even more, and when they emerge, their eyes seem to have melted. Now they were fumbling even more than before. As the zeds scatter indistinctly, Rayne gets a clear shot at the thing.
Emptying one mag at it, this was just like target practice back at the range. Another mag goes, and a third. Five left. This thing had to go down. It picks up speed and charges her, infuriated. Another mag is unloaded into its face before it delivers a crushing blow into the ground were Rayne was half a second ago. She leapt to the side, all the time putting more lead into it. It had to go down!
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