Saint Agrippina

The Quarantined City, Saint Agrippina

First Post Index

General Overview - The Clean Zone - The Infected City - Major Landmarks

Along the edge of the Barthavos Desert lies a rocky outcropping leading up to to mountains. One particular overlook had the advantage of being quite large, and a perfect beacon for caravans travelling from Strata. It wasn't long before a settlement began to spring up, and grew rather quickly due to the defendable nature of Saint Agrippina. The city was surrounded by steep cliffs, elevating the city far above the desert on all but one side. Merchants flocked to the city filling it with culture and wealth, and as the modern age Corporations set their most precious labs in the stronghold of the city. Military strength, culture, and the marvels of science, it seemed Saint Agrippina would never fall.

Until one day the city began to eat itself from the inside out.

Hideous monsters began to appear in the city, and strangely enough some seemed not to mind them. As some evacuated and others stayed behind armed forces began to move in, but nothing is ever that easy. Unlike monster and zombie invasions of the past, the both the monsters and those that stayed behind organised against the liberators. Loyalty to some unknown central power was spreading through the overlook city like wildfire.

------THE CLEAN ZONE---------------------

Defenders camp in the evacuated city near the entrance to the overlook. From hastily erected towers and behind makeshift walls, the Agrippina Defence Force make sure none of the monstrous creatures escape the city. Nobody expected the easily defendable city to be totally overrun from the inside out, and nobody expected the Alpha through Epsilon Corporation to rush to the defenders aid. A stalemate for both strange sides.

Local and national governments have forbidden the complete destruction of the city by tactical nuclear strike, fearing the accusations of "a second Carter City". Opponents of destruction argue that even if its so, a foe this intelligent would be situated in the sewers and deep basements of military buildings and laboratories.

Metal quarantine walls are being erected to replace the weaker walls, while helicopters take off from the base of operations like clockwork. With any luck nothing will get out, and only the bravest souls will enter.

------THE INFECTED CITY---------------------

Saint Agrippina has always been a cultural city, historic brick buildings have always been preserved rather than building large cement skyscrapers. Now these hollow, lifeless buildings are preserved in their decay. Not only do these buildings face the monsters but small explosive strikes by the ADF, as well as general fighting, have spread debris across the streets. The most disgusting change seems to be the crimson hue all about the city. Those that venture into the city are unsure if its a result of the invasion, or just the blood of humans and monsters splattered against the walls.

Desolace changes to to disgust the closer to the center of the city. In what used to be known as the "Lab" district the monsters seem to have nested. Strange growths hang from the walls and protrude from the ground, it is all very reminiscent of horror movie. The technology mixed with biological growth screams Silent Hill meets Starcraft's Zerg.

All and all, Saint Agrippina is a frightening place.

------LANDMARKS---------------------

The Quarantine Wall - A frightening metal wall currently being constructed by Alpha through Epsilon workers and robots. When finished it should be much more defendable than the makeshift palisade already in place. With the exception of the main gate, most of the wall is very secure. ADF forces guard the engineers as they install the necessary machinery to control the heavy gates.

The Residential District - The first district "visitors" will pass through is the residential district. A unsettling experience for most considering it is reminiscent of a bloody suburbia for most parts. With the execption of a few apartment buildings, shopping centres, and supermarkets, the district consists mostly of what used to be homes. Abandoned duplexes, backyards, swing sets and such all sit in a broken stillness. Less intelligent monsters and infected humans wander this area, with the only hint of a base of operations being Sunshine Elementary School.

Commerce District - While the buildings are on average five or so stories, fierce urban combat often rages through these streets. This district is often most ravaged by the artillery, due to being the monsters most defensible point before the laboratory district. Overturned cars, ever blazing fires and toppling buildings give this place the Resident Evil 2 feel. As you near the end of the districts you encounter the office towers of the companies that used to own the nearby labs. An ominous visual wall to what is beyond.

The Sewers - Saint Agrippina has an old fashioned and uncomplicated sewer system. Tunnels large enough to walk through connect the entire city, and they downhill from the top of the overlook to the bottom. The problem: You'll never find a place infected with more dangerous and more numerous monsters.

The Alpha through Epsilon Lab - Many analysts argue that A~E is only assisting the ADF to liberate their lab in the city. Certainly one of the most advance and most secure labs in the entire district. Basements and subbasements reach far into the ground housing god knows what. Intelligence suggest that this, due to defensibility and optimal central location, is the home to whatever is guiding the monsters.

Samuel Seymore Airship Museum - A product of another age, the point of the Agrippina Overlook was a perfect place for an airship dock. Since it has been quite the time since airships ruled the skies, the building has long since been changed into a museum. Scouts report that there is incredibly strange monster activity at the point, and any helicopter that attempts to get close are met with biological projectiles.

The Agrippina Defence Force Updates

First Post Index

Gaia 9 Action News - Research Diaries - ADF Bulletins

News Wrote:

... Week two of the Saint Agrippina crisis rages on. For those just tuning in the overlook city has been completely overrun by strange creatures in a matter of days. Slow reaction time to the crisis is blamed on the Agrippina government who simply assumed this was somehow related to the recent zombie threat in Ymiristan. Regular zombie combat measures failed, and a full evacuation of the city began.

Most citizens fled to West Fall City, or remained to undergo intense training as part of the Agrippina Defence Force. Stranger still, some chose to remain behind in the city and rumours are circulating that they are assisting the monsters that have taken over the city. The ADF recommends if you know someone who has remained in the city to cut off all contact with them.

In a suprise event the Alpha through Epsilon Corporation pledged support to the ailing city.

"The ADF has a noble goal of containing and eventually eliminating this strange new occurrence," A representative from the company told Gaia 9 Action News, "And if the threat is not contained, it could very well spread and endanger much more. Alpha through Epsilon has a duty to our employees and customers to maintain their safety."

The company had a laboratory in the city and has now pledged medical, construction and combat technology.

Now in lighter news...

Of course that sort of "light tap" was enough to startle almost anyone, and merited a quick pivot from the ADF member. lucky for the stranger he didn't tap someone likely to immediately blast him full of lead. Point the gun in his face, yes, but fire it no. Once the non threatening question was asked the gun was lowered to a less threatening position.

"Apologies, but everyone here is on high alert." The solider was wearing the gear supplied by Alpha through Epsilon. Some light body armour with ADF in block letters, a swat style helmet, and of course that gun the warrior had gotten a close look at.

"The is the main checkpoint for the Saint Agrippina Quarantine." The ADF member stated in a rather matter of fact voice.

A helicopter starts to come in. Upon reaching near the Airship Museum as series of shrieking, green, corpious projectiles start raining out from it it after the helicopter. The helicopter attempts to take evasive actions but manages to get hit. The tail rotor is taken off and it spins wildly out of control and starts drifting until it crashlands near the defenders encampment. A man bedecked in a coal black trenchcoat and a blackish-gray pants emerges from the wreck, carrying katana and a flamethrower with a submachine gun slung to his back. With a few spurts of the flamethrower he burns off what was left of the biological projectile. He checks the pilot and sees that he is dead.

"God damn it! Why do they not tell me this stuff before sending me out here!" He starts to walk towards the encampment cursing about his luck.

The man continues walking with the flamethrower in hand. The man sees a guy wearing a unique looking Oriental sword and wearing clothing that match the colors of flames.

"Hello! Are you friend or foe?" he asks raising up the flamethrower ready just in case.

He returns the greeting and lowers his weapon.

"Then there is no need to fight. I was coming o the main encamoment via helicopter. Apparently these people have a biological anti-air system around the Airship Museum that none told me or my late pilot. From the looks of things these projectile are some sort of creature that suicides themselves against the air vehicle."

"Honestly I couldn't tell you what we are fighting. Apparently there is a virus infecting people and turning them into some type of creatures that apparently far stronger then even the zombie outbreak in Ymiristan. Unfortunately due to the commercial and stragetic importance of this city we can't nuke the bastards and be done with it. So they quarantined this damn city and we need to purge the creature out ourselves. Strangely the Alpha through Epsilon Corportion is interested in this city. I was sent here because the Alpha through Epsilon Corporation contacted the Mercenary League and I was sent here to assess the damage and costs and to help fight the bloody brutes." he explains while trying to get some biological gunk off his shoes.

The stranger nods, glad that someone finally told him what exactly is going on.

???: "A purge of infected beings that threaten humankind..."

His eyes seem to stare off into the distance as his arms cross almost subconsciously, causing the light pinging sound of metal on metal as his fingers tap the extentions of his gauntlets.

???: This situation could be more complex than I first realized. So the possibility of negotiation is gone, as I doubt the willingness of these creatures to negotiate. Also gone is the full force attack option, as this area must be preserved...

These thoughts and more streak through his mind as his eye seem to focus on a tower erected by the ADF...

Finishing his cheeseburger, he clapped his gloved hands together loudly to brush the crumbs and grease off. Or try to, anyway. Despite being in soldier attire, the man carried a wholely different demeanor than that of the determined seriousness of the military types everywhere around here.

Turning, he leaned his back against the rails and propped his elbows up on the rail as well.

And let out a thunderous belch.

Congratulating himself on the accomplishment, he stifled a small laugh and pulled his canteen off his belt.

Shaking Drake's hand he nods and replies, "My name is Damian Olivander of Middle Sickle Highlands of Terringer. I am a Brigadier General of the Mercenary League. Most people call my either Damian or just make an acronym of my name and call me Doomshot. You can call me either one." He makes eyes contact with Drake not using his closed real eyes but a shimmering translucent purplish eye that start to materialize in front of his face.

Capping his canteen and placing it back on his belt, he pushed himself off the rail and meandered through the crowd. Stopping when he saw a man in a trenchcoat and another man wearing weird red gauntlets. Both were carrying swords, and they were talking to each other.

Sore thumbs, much?

He approached them both, with a complete lack of tact or attention paid to their conversation. He spoke, with a slight accent that was clearly foreign.

"You two look pretty out of place." Giving a wide smile of astonishingly straight and white teeth. Tattoos of barbed wire meandered across his face like the roots of a plant, and the helmet he wore loosely had something white written across it, in another language.

He seemed genuinely friendly, if a little blunt.

"No no, from somewhere really far from here. Name's Saul. I imagine I'm here for the same reason as you folks. Private contractor." Giving a light shrug before reaching for his helmet to keep it from falling off.

With his left hand on his belt, next to the tonfa hanging there. Saul offered his right, slightly greasey glove and all, for a handshake.

"Brigadier?" Saul repeated in mild surprise.

"Don't see a whole lot of officers on the front. Most REMFs that I've seen are behind everyone else."

Saul brought his hands up and rubbed them together before moving them over his entirely bare arms. A little cold for his tastes.

Stepping back at the sudden movement, Saul watched the General hose down some slime. Must've seemed like a good idea at the time.

The General also used a whole lot of big words, that weren't 'zombies' or 'undead.'

"Slime? That's not very zombie-like."

"That's too bad. I like zombies."

Reaching back to his hind belt pouch and removing a small black stungun, he under handed tazer to the General, continuing to talk.

"Just as well, beggars can't be choosers and I have a lot of bullets."

"...Right." Gathering all of 'electricity kills them' from so many words.

Patting along his belt, the pouches, four grenades, and loose .45 Long rounds. No more tazers.

"No worries. Everything dies somehow."

"Pass." Saul said, watching the General leave.

"Just going to look around a bit." Which was a bit of an understatement. Look around, and find his way into the city before everyone else.

Ambitious for sure. Opportunity only knocks once.

Quarantined cities always had a habit of attracting mercenaries, no doubt. Gabriel was just one of...well, four that had answered the call currently. He stood not too far away from the others, although for all intents and purposes he was pretty much hidden, not too interested in making conversation with the competition.

If one were to look at him, they'd notice that he blended quite well with the shadows, being in a black/dark blue suit that didn't reflect light at all. It fit fairly well to his form, but from the way he was standing and shifting every now and then, didn't constrict his movement in the least. Over his back was slung a rifle, attached to his thigh was a sidearm, and on the other thigh was the handle of what appeared to be a knife. Various pockets and a belt around his waist looked to be the main containers for the ammunition to both weapons.

Gabriel didn't seem too intent on making acquaintances with the strangers just yet, so he pulled a stick of gum from one of the chest pockets and popped it into his mouth before he continued with his observations.

Heading back to Saul he see the stranger in the shade. "How are you buddy! I just realized I have no idea where HQ is."

Gabe was blowing a bubble at the time that the stranger approached him. The bubble popped, and Gabe offered little more than a reserved sigh as he reached up to peel it from his face.

"Ugh..."

He put what he could back into his mouth, then simply cleaned his face off as best he could before he addressed the newcomer.

"HQ? You try the uhh, big building launching the helicopters over there?"

Gabriel jerked a thumb over his shoulder, smiling and chewing his gum with the sort of friendly air that Gabe was pretty much expected to give.

"I say we jjust head into the city now! It should be easy for me to bypass security. If necessary I could climb the wall," he says. As he is saying this 8 extensions, the longer 4 legs being 3 feet from back to tip, start moving and extend from where they blended into his trench coat. They resemble the legs of a spider. " It feels good to extend these! Its been too long, the seats in your human vehicles are too uncomfortable. With these I can easily climb those walls." one of the extension reaches back and with surprising desterity picked up the submachine gun off his back and Damian clips it on to one of his extensions. "This is specially designed to work with one of these arms. We'll need all the fire power we need when we get in."

Drake slowly mulled over a plan of action as other conversations flowed around him. Suddenly he declares:

Drake: "I'm going into the city."

Without a backwards glance, Drake leisurely approaches the menacing skyline of Saint Agrippina, which almost makes it appear as though he is going there to picnic instead of to fight creatures of viral origins. Only someone who could see his face would understand how seriously he took this venture, as it was creased into a frown as he walks.

Drake: Quick and decisive action is the only answer to such a problem. Waiting only increases its strength.

The introductions were cut short by a blaring siren, the accompanying lights were green. Luckily enough this symbolised a minor threat. Minor of course, was relative.

As the engineers rushed form their work on the gates, ADF members began to take their places along the wall. Some took cover along the sides, others climbed up nearby ladders, and a few brave souls wearing a combination of a biohazard suit and a SWAT outfit took the point.

The monsters were more what Saul expected. Fifteen cocoons lumbered out from the suburbs, horribly mutated humans with grey veins all over their body, hands transformed to claws and some bloated like they had been soaking for days. Lumbering with them was what appeared to be a bipedal venus flytrap made of gore.

"Fire!" Someone yelled.

Those hiding broke cover briefly to let loose a burst and then ducked back behind the wall. Two snipers climbed on top of the wall and began to line up shots, knowing they had to make theirs count even more. Those in heavy armour just let loose a stream of bullets, and in hope they wouldn't have to resort to close combat.

One of the few didn't have to wait long. The "Fly-Trap" opened up and shot barbed tendrils directly at the men, most were spared but one unfortunate man was entangled. The spiked fleshy vines wrapped around his legs and one of his arms before dragging him to the ground.

"******! ******!" He shot wildly with his one free arm as the creature dragged him towards the mob.

"They're here! Lets go!" he shouts as he runs toward the disturbance. He reloads the fuel cell of the flame thrower and draws a katana with his free hand. He balances the flame thrower with one hand and an extension. He see the giant "Fly-trap" Grab a person and rushes over unleashing a gout of flame upon the tendrils. He watches the tendril curl up and disconnect but he is now forward of the position near the creature and in the way of the bullets.

Drake shrugs off the man's hand and continues walking.

Drake: "Never tell me the odds."

Drake hears the sound of gunfire, and his pace quickens dramatically. The screams of the doomed man seem to give Drake's feet wings, and he dashes into the fray. Horribly mutated creatures were staggering towards the wall, and one of them had a guardsman entangled in a long spiky protrusion. Without a second thought, Drake leaps off the wall and lands in a crouch on the ground. His head whips up, and the guard who is being dragged might be able to see that the eyepatch was...glowing? With a roar, Drake draws his katana and swings it to point at the thing which entangled the guard. He then shouts something...or growls something, it is difficult to tell. As he does, the gauntlets seem less like gauntlets and more an extension of his body...then a bolt of lightning streaks into the advancing mob of cocoons and the "fly-trap", searing their perverse flesh.

Having wound his way into the area, wandering around looking for something to do, Brody found this battle a welcome distraction. Moments into being introduced to the situation, a warning siren went off. Jogging warily towards the area indicated, he draws his pistol and checks to make sure the clip is full. Seeing the man coming his way, Brody stops and takes a defensive stance. "Hey, whats going on?"

Blessings of Kintaka my a**!

....were Owle's immediate thoughts on finding herself quite suddenly in the middle of what seemed to be a military encampment, with a battle going on, when she'd been in the Firebrand only moments before. In fact, she was still in the Firebrand, a fact which was even more puzzling...but that's what you get when a god of mischief and luck messes with you.

"What the hell is going on?" she exclaimed, to the people who were obviously too busy rushing to the places defense to pay her any mind. A few quick glances around...and she noticed the A~E logo.

Blessings of Kintaka...you suck.

And then she was off and running. Towards the trouble, not away from it, because she wanted to see what the hell was going on. If anyone stopped her, she just lied "Joseph Brown sent me."

...yeah, he might get annoyed at her, if he ever found out. And people might get annoyed at her once they bothered to confirm this with Joseph Brown. But she was fairly certain Charles and Allen would back her up, at least. If they were there at the time.

And so she made her way to the wall, to get a good long look at the mutants.

Damian starts to back off toward the line of the rest of the men to prevent the chance of someone hitting the two hundred pound incinderary bomb attached to his back. "We must hold the line! Those civilians behind us depend on us and if we fail they all die! Aim for the ones that seem to be coordinating the attack! A mob is easier to deal with than a charge!" He keeps unleashing the great gouts of flame forward careful to not hit the people in front of him. He continues to also spray out bullets from his submachine gun.

Realizing that it was just a scared s**t-less civ, he passed the pitiful creature and continued till he had joined the firing line. Taking a short look at what was going on, he sent a couple of shots towards the fly-trap and watched how things seemed to be going.

The bodies just start piling up higher and higher in front of the defenders. Damian starts watching with amazement. "My god how many of these foul creatures are there?" A few second later with a sputtering sound his flame thrower runs out of fuel. "GOD DAMN IT! This isn't good." He moves the flamethrower apparatus to his back and attaches it for later use. He grips his katana in both human looking hands and charges forward to slice and dice the enemy.

...and Owle did something stupid. She reached out a tiny tendril towards the creatures' minds...

....no, not minds...mind.

Owle drew back, as if burnt from the realization. They all had the same mind sig. They were all one big thing. What. the. bloody. ********?

Seeing the new wave of zombie's, Brody swore loudly and aimed for the missile pod on the nearest spider thing, letting off a few more shots, observing again the affects.

Anyone looking? No? Awesome!

Obviously if that sniper had been on the wall and something like that went through his skull, the body came down. Which was all too nice for Tweak. With barely a care he all but scrambled to the body and started working on loosening the hand. Not like the guy needed his rifle anymore. Then again it was not like he could use it either, but why leave good stuff just hanging out?

If he did not steal it someone else would!

This ideal also went for the poor guy's wallet.

So armed with a sniper rifle, slung over his shoulder by the strap, movement recommenced. He made sure to linger behind the protective line as much as possible. Hell, he was not even advancing until people cleared out some.

Help them? Hell no, he was not interested in death just yet.

Fire, fire, fire click.

Gabriel quickly dislodged the empty clip from his rifle, slammed another one in soon afterwards, loaded the weapon, and then moved himself forward. People without guns seemed fine enough dealing with the charging creatures, so Gabe settled on trying to find himself a better vantage point to fire from.

He waited, then darted past the quarantine wall, sliding across the blood/debris covered ground and falling into the foundations of a fallen building. It was only about four feet deep, but allowed him plenty of cover.

Once there, he checked and rechecked his firearm, then took a deep breath.

Whatever that spider thing was, surely somebody with some heavy firepower would show up to take it down.

Right?

Damian runs back to the line. There he radios in to all demolitions members. "This is bigadier General Damian! Any demolition men armed with rocket launchers concentrate fire upon the spider. Wait for my commande to fire." He watch the people move into position so the can hit it. "Fire!" He watches the backblast of seven simultaneous launches create a large cloud behind them. The missiles races toward the large spider.

Drake turns to look at Damien. There is something...feral...in his eye.

Drake: "Greht m'torieal Rrhathral, Damien..."

The voice in which he speaks is not his own. Instead, it sounds as though it is coming from the throat of...he coughs, then speaks again.

Drake: "Fire for its lifesource. The head, heart, anything that will make it stop moving..."

He stops speaking long enough to fire a stream of rounds into one of the staggering cocoons and take a katana swipe at another.

Drake: "...so we can kill it."

The thud of a carapace spike rang out on the front line..as Drake stares down at one that had apparently lodged in his chest. He laughs and pulls it away from his armor. Turns out the spike hadn't penetrated...it had instead compacted against the chestplate of his armor.

Drake: "It will take more than a perverse child of nature to slay me!"

With that, he flings the remains of the spike at the head of one of the approaching cocoons.

Lots of things were moving. And this was no parade.

Despite the broken glass he was laying in, Saul pulled himself into the overturned car. Through the broken window, he lay in wait on the foor under the seats.

Feet. Lots and lots of feet were going by. Grey, hulking flesh.

All heading for the wall. Here, armed with his Colt .45, Saul was ahead of the game.

Alive and not under siege by masses of living dead.

One of the spikes launched by the spiders, although not hitting him, hit the rock behind him, causing a nice bit of hell under his a**. In the ensuing confusion, Brody tripped, smacking his haed and falling unconcious, but luckily out of the way of any likely trouble.

And as Brody fell under the category of "injured but still breathing", Owle quickly darted out to him...the girl become a mostly inanimate ball of armored scales whenever she thought something might be headed her way, which was often.

Move move move...

********!

Move move move...

********!

Move move move...

And she had reached his side. Without further hesitation, she had grabbed him under the arms, and started dragging him back behind the wall.

Drag drag drag...

OSHI-

Drag drag drag...

OSHI-!

Drag drag drag...

...and so it continued, until Owle had finally gotten the unconscious man to safety. She had several nice bruises to show for it, but nothing serious...thankfully no one had aimed any missile launchers her way. That would have been problematic.

High Templar Doomshot Wrote:

The spider shudders under the combined attack and fall downward. When it hits the ground all of the spikes shoot out in a 360 degree arc taking out many of the men and vehicles. Damian is standing up near the frontline next thing he knows, he has a spike sticking though his that was pinning him to the wall. "Glad I'm not human" he says coughing up some blood.

I am tired of these ********>

And, as if she knew she were making a bad movie reference, Owle cut off the thought right then and there. With one final curse as the spikes burst outward, she placed herself in front of Brody and shifted into her armored form. She felt one of the spikes impact against her hard shell, making her roll backwards into Brody's unconscious form. Fortunately the spikes were just high enough to avoid hitting a prone man.

"Oww..." she muttered as she shifted back to her human(ish) form, and finally got Brody back behind the relative safety of the wall.

She collapsed. She'd look around for more injured once she'd had a chance to breath. And she'd probably eventually notice that there was a spike through Damian, too.

Waking up again he looks down. "GOD DAMN-" He breaks into a coughing fit and starts to cough up blood. "Dman, it pierced my lung, that is never good." He tries to move his extensions but they were pinned by the wall. He uses his hands and futility tries to pull out the spike that has him suspended on a wall.

Dude. Guy she knew. Pinned to a wall. That was bad.

Owle looked up at Damian from where she was, calling up the stupidest question in history.

"Hey! You alright up there?"

"Incoming!", shouted by some random grunt as the spider thing exploded in spikes. Tweak wasted no time in hitting the ground and curling into a ball. Fetal position all the way with head beneath the knees.

Calm for a moment, more gunfire, he unrolled and stated crawling forward. More a military crawl as he advanced a bit further.

So as it would end up he rolled a guy's corpse over and started digging out his wallet. From this point he tossed some pictures of the guy's kids aside, pulled out all the cash, and started digging through credit cards looking for a debit.

This was pretty close to the action now. He was being way more careful then before. But these grunts sucked counting the fighting was still going on.

Near Owle and approaching Gabe's little trench thing out in the open.

"Oh, well in that case..."

Owle's eyes widened as he collapsed in front of her. "Hey! Don't tell me you were serious! I can't heal something that went through your lung!"

Well...she could stare at him, or she could try to bandage his wound. Like it would do any good with his lung punctured. By all rights he should be dead already.

Removing the clothing in her way, Owle wrapped several layers of bandages around Damian's torso. She didn't clean out the wound, cause...dude, was pouring water into a punctured lung really okay?

She forced some painkiller down his throat, a little blend of herbs that she wasn't even sure would work on his species. But, hey...she couldn't kill him any harder, right? His lung was punctured! He was totally dead!

...except he still showed some signs of life. Odd. But hadn't he said something like that, back when they met at the tavern?

He starts to stir. "Owle, find the flask I showed you in the tavern. Pour it in the wound. It helps me to heal. It is... a powerful antiseptic." He cough up some more blood. "It should help with the feriun. Myferiun is in charge of healing my system." he speaks softly.

"Yes, don't pour it on you though," he starts coughing again, "it would probably eat through your scales. I'll be okay. If Ilook dead don't assme it. I may just be repairing. I hate waking up in a coffin again."

"Right...if you say so..." Owle answered doubtfully. Having exposed the wound to the air once more, she poured the stuff down it.

Come to think of it, it would probably have eaten through the bandages.

When the glowing red liquid is pour into the wound a hissing sound is heard as it kills the diseases and viruses. Anyone looking into the wound could see a greenish red organ regrow. "My feriun is back, I just need this wrapped up and I should be healed by tomorrow. I can function limitedly till then." He continues to lay on the ground. " I just need some rest." Despite the explosions and gunshots he starts to sleep.

Owle just stared at the flask in her hands, and closed it back up again. "That...is some weird s**t," she commented, before bandaging his wound once more.

((And I hope your character has some kind of Achilles' Heel with an ability like that.))

((I'm pretty much out of commission for a while, and that thing is pretty much a one shot deal. I have no more.))

((It's all good. Drake is not incredibly fast even in the best of circumstances.))

"You guys...are going to go into the zombie infested city?' Owle asked, overhearing that last bit of conversation as she peered down into the trench, looking for more injured. She'd already arranged for Damian to be taken to a slightly safer location, like...the local medical bay. Now she was just one among many medics, looking for more injured to patch up. Unlike the other medics, though, she tended toward the suicidal. She would totally go with them if given half the chance.

Drake, frustrated at the evasion of the small person, follows him to see that he is leaping out of a trench and asking the medic to go with him. The outrageousness of asking a medic, whose job it is to care for the wounded, to leave the front lines spurs Drake into action.

Drake: "Let the medic care for the wounded. I'll go with. I must see the city for myself."

Kuroiten Wrote:

Drake, frustrated at the evasion of the small person, follows him to see that he is leaping out of the trench and asking the medic to go with him.

Drake: "Let the medic care for the wounded. I'll go with. I must see the city for myself."

"There are other medics, and they have better technology than me."

She'd been taught by a dryad; her skills amounted to herbs, bandages, and the like. Surely the ADF had erected a medical bay of some kind, where they had more advanced stuff she had no idea how to use.

"I'm just an apprentice healer, really. And if you guys are going into that-" She gestured toward the city. "No way in hell am I not coming along."

"Who else's life am I risking? It's not like I'm pregnant," Owle protested, a little put off by this guy. She would follow Gabe towards the city...he seemed more trustworthy than the other two, somehow.

Tweak was the last to go. As if this were a bad movie he rubbed his hands together and smirked before almost merrily skipping off after Owle and Gabe. They were on the move towards the city now.

Now there was only the task of getting them to go the right way. He certainly did not want to end up in some zombie infested territory cause these people did not know their way around.

That would suck...

Saul was moving through the streets of the city at an insane pace. Peeking in windows, leaning in doors. Place was totally empty. Having no idea where he was, despite being surrounded by houses in suburbia.

Though he wasn't alone, around the corner was a zombie. Well, not zombie. Whatever.

The thing looked like a body that had been found floating in a lake for three months. A body of some kind of athelete, because it moved pretty quick for being dead. Or whatever.

Saul levelled the Colt on the charging corpse, and too aim on one of the legs. Firing once, letting out the boom of gunfire which was likely to grab a lot of unfriendly attention. The beast took the .45 Long round in stride as it ripped through the left thigh and it kept running. Another.

BLAM

Two fired. The second ruining the knee of the charging baddie and forcing it to the ground. Determined sucker, though. It was pulling itself along the ground with it's arms.

Saul walked over to it, and put a third right in the head. Three rounds, one zombie. Or... Thingie. Whatever.

Smirking to himself in celebration, gloating over his first kill. Saul turned to walk away and stumbled. Sharp pain in his right calf, sharp enough to almost floor him.

Looking down to reveal three little needle-like protrusions from his pants. Darts?

Zombies don't use blowguns.

Not that they were darts, or from a zombie. Source unknown, the spikes were obviously from something mutated nearby. The sneaky b*****d.

Mostly in response to the unpleasant alien pain in his leg, Saul turned and angrily fired all three remaining rounds into what was left of the downed zombie's head. OR whatever. ******** undead are all alike.

What was left wasn't much too look at. An ambiguous smear of anonymous gore. Skull, soft tissue, grey matter, and blood. Reaching for his leg with his free hand, he pulled a pair of thin needles out of his leg. The wet feeling around his ankle told him that he was bleeding. Sort of the "no s**t" statement of the day, considering the needles were burried in a couple inches of muscle.

Staring at the small needles in the gloved palm of his hand, Saul noticed they looked kindof like hypodermic needles.

********.

And then he realized, that he had just taken a shallow dive into deep s**t. Turning once more, Saul squeezed the trigger several times at the corpse's corpse.

Click, click click click, click.

Each for a pull of the trigger as the double action cycled through the chamber. Nothing but spent brass. Grave, Saul walked over to the stoop of a nearby abandoned house and took a seat on the first step. Resting his head in his hands.

"I'll give you twelve."

He responded to Tweak before shaking his head and starting forward, falling in line behind Drake. Now, while Drake seemed like the kind of person who he'd like to have on his side, Gabriel wasn't too sure what to make of the stranger. While he was the kind of person to go out of his way to help others, Gabe knew when to call it quits. Whoever this guy was, he obviously didn't. When would people learn that a dead hero was a hero that couldn't save anyone? The holier-than-thou approach was even starting to grate on Gabriel's nerves, and he wasn't even receiving the brunt of it.

He looked towards Owle, then shook his head, as if indicating that arguing wasn't the best thing to do at the moment.

"I couldn't tell."

He answered her question, all the while sweeping his rifle across the entrance to an alleyway. Who knew where those damned things would pop up from next?

"I just shoot 'em, miss."

He lowered the rifle, then kept moving forward. He wasn't going to make a push to take point, even if it made absolutely no sense that the guy with the close range weapon and one good eye was walking out in the open. Crazy suicidal, by Gabriel's standards. But, he'd gotten out of worse situations before.

"Sounds like the sensible thing to do," Owle answered Gabe. As they moved, Owle kept a lookout with her own personal telepathic "radar", a scan that would generally show her any mind sigs and their location within five city blocks of her. If she felt any of those zombies (and they all had the same mind, which she had seen and could now recognize), she was sure as hell going to scream a warning.

She didn't explain any of this to Drake, though. Let him be all nervous and paranoid, he deserved it.

(Joseph: I thought I'd help prevent having the city cleared out by this flood of good guys, Also, I posted Carl & Bill on the second page.)

Weeeer, thump! Meeeer, thump. Weeer, thump. Was heard in the halls of a dimly lit basement after a Ymiristani Proto Soldeir Type E-IV actived. It made its way to the exit in measured steps, taking its sweet time. Nine foot tall, 900 pounds, a combination of viral infected human flesh and machine walked down a short hall. Tubes of green liquid ran up and down its limbs, they criscrossed its stomach and protruded from its neck. Thick titanium/ depleted uranium armor plating composed the massive chest and back plate, and the helmet which only contained a slit for sensors. Heavy greaves protected its shoulders & shins, as well as an armored girdle about the creature's thighs. It's right arm was 29 centimeters thick at the wrist, the hand being replace with an empty bowl fed by tubes that ran underneith the armor. The left arm was a combination 12.7mm machine gun with an attachment that launched up to five RPGs stored inside. The end of its thick foot kicked down the door to the building it had been resting in. It stepped outside, the Yaits Corp Symbol gleaming over its chest.

Objective: Terminate Hostile Terran Lifeforms.

10111000110100101

Systems: Fully Operational

A quick glance over his shoulder towards Tweak, who was giving directions. Gabe smiled slightly, stopped chewing his gum, and walked back towards the recently drafted kid. He stopped in front of him, then looked down the street that he was pointing towards.

"Good idea..."

He nodded his head in that direction.

"And since we're here looking for your stuff, why don't you take point?"

The smile faded, and he went back to chewing his gum, waiting for Tweak to take the lead. If not, well, someone was going to get upset and probably take the lead. He looked down at his watch.

"Still have nearly five minutes to get there."

One. Two.

This was a bad idea. Shouldn't have come here.

Three. Four.

Yeah, I needed the money. But this is a tad expensive.

Five. Six.

Should have went to Disney Land.

Sweeping his left hand across the cylinders, they all spun on the well lubricated dial. Listening to the metallic clack, Saul swung the chamber into place and holstered the revolver.

Leaning back on the steps of the stoop, he reached up and righted his helmet. Chin straps still swinging on their own inertia. How the helmet had stayed on his head the whole time was anybody's guess.

Looking grimly down at the silver, black-plastic-wrapped dogtags hanging from his neck and resting on his black kevlar vest. Sitting restlessly, he fidgetted from the uncomfortable position of his rifle on his back.

Really, really bad day.

"Gun fire? That's odd."

Gregory shifted his attention of the area and was rewarded with a block view of the location. Buildings, far too many were in the way; but he had heard the rattle of heay weapons fire clear enough. He knew the distinct sound and with the absence of noise in return it was clear that either the person was shooting at ghosts or had silenced their target.

It was a good thing then that this survivalist wasn't risking his neck on a suicide mission like another band of would-be soldiers. Doubly so that he was well armed and was confident that if worse came to worse he'd be able to do something about whoever it was with the machine gun.

((The virus only targets humans, and close metas. Heard this from JB himself, so I pass it on to you. So it should come as no surprise random animals are uninfected, though it may perhaps be surprising they are still alive.))

((Owle: Then I guess our characters are gonna be in stubborn opposition of each other. Might be amusing...))

Drake stops in his tracks as soon as the kid begins to try and egg him on. He turns to face Tweak, and there is a thoughtful expression pasted across his features. Upon hearing the soldier's suggestion, Drake swivels his head to look over his shoulder at Gabe, then shrugs.

Drake: "I am only up front because I started walking first."

At this point, he's willing to relinquish the front. This decision is majorly influenced by his current level of trust towards the group...

"Never had anything against you leading, bud. Just suggesting to our brave young compatriot here."

He would probably slap Tweak on the back after that statement, if he was still anywhere nearby, or not quick enough to move away from him. Either way, Gabe looked back towards the street. There was gunfire off in the distance, although it wasn't from the main camp.

Did the ADF send in troops beforehand?

It didn't seem logical. From the look of things, they nearly had their hands full defending the gate. But there always could be stragglers, right? He'd probably find out sooner or later, since they were heading out in that general direction anyway.

"Soldier boy?"

And so he waited for the jolly group to head off down the road. He wasn't necessarily excited about the notion of bringing up rear duty, because that meant he had no clue what was going on in front of him half the time. And with the gunfire going off in the distance, well, even if the guy firing it had survived, that didn't mean all the baddies in the area were down and out. And those that had heard it were probably moving towards the area if they were half as intelligent as people said they were.

So yeah, he had a right to be just a little nervous about this situation. Maybe he should have told the little punk to piss off.

Moving again with a slight limp. Saul was going down the streets in random order, but was making great time.

FAMAS out and ready, he had placed the revolver back in the holster and walked with the rifle up point first.

Just keep moving. Maybe those things will miss you.

Stopping at an intersection, all fours ways devoid of life.

This place is a maze. Just keep moving.

Turning with wide sweeps of rifle muzzle, he kept walking. Forcing that leg of his to work. Another beautiful day in the neighborhood.

"Well ******." Tweak's wonderful response to Drake's objections. So this guy did not want to take the front either, chicken-st bastards. Wether or not the guy was really afraid or just seriously slow was beyond his care.

The girl was obviously not going to take point. She just did not seem the type and had been hanging back with him. Soldier boy or whatever his name was, he did not care enough to ask, would probably not do it either. They had after all let the stiffy lead for so long. At that pace they would get gangbanged by the ******** hoard.

"Fine." Arms crossed and he let out an angry puff of smoke, "I'll lead but you had damn well be covering me. I'll ******** haunt you all if I die." And with that he stormed off in the direction he had pointed earlier. In the process he passed Owle and Gabe, trudging angrily at a quick pace right up front. He did glance back over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure he was not getting ditched.

He started after Tweak, looking over his shoulder once to Owle. He gave one of those 'Yeah, I'm surprised too' looks, shrugged his shoulders, and then turned back to following Tweak. He was quick to put himself just about a foot or two off of the guy's shoulder, just so he didn't run off and leave them all lost and without a guide.

"Honestly, you think I'd abandon you after I let you lead me into zombie city? You're my ticket out of here, you know."

There was a little bit of a pause, and then he finally turned his head and spat that gum out. Damn cheap thirty cent package of gum, it always lost its flavor in the first minute of chewing.

"So how far, exactly, are we going from here?"

He glanced to Tweak, still holding onto his rifle but keeping it lowered in a rest position. Still, given Gabe's track record in the military, he'd be able to snap that thing up to a firing position in no time, even if he was caught off guard.

He quickly glance down at his watch. About four minutes until they had to spin around and walk back. Six, if the guy promised to run back to the camp. For some reason, Gabe figured there wouldn't be any objections concerning that method of extraction.

Meer, thump, weeeer, thump, meeer, thump.

The Proto-soldier E-IV came to a stop at an intersection of the commercial district. It pushed aside the charred husk of a 2007 Benz E350 Sedan. It glanced left, then right, checking both directions before crossing the intersection, and continued forward on its seek and destroy mission, stepping over a fallen traffic signal.

"...So how do you know all this?" Suspicious glance back to Owle as he looked the way she pointed. They could still reach the shop he was aiming for that way. Would take a bit longer though...then again if they had more people that would not be a problem.

Casual glance back to Gabe before Tweak turned forward and smirked. "If someone is over that way we should totally help them. More firepower is always a good thing nya?" He seemed to address this question specificaly to Gabe along with the follow up.

"But then I'll need a bit more time...but do you really want to leave someone to die?" He was trying so hard not to smirk in victory and just kind of failing. Snarky grin was the result.

"...I have a radar in my skull," Owle answered, rubbing a hand on the back of her head. She was squirming under the suspicious glance, not really sure how she was going to explain this quickly.

"...that's really the best way to explain it," she added, shifting uncomfortably. She was now playing with her hair, another nervous gesture. She hated to admit it. "Telepath."

And she just waited, for more suspicious looks. For them to condemn her, to warn her not to go poking around in their skulls. That was the reaction she'd been taught to expect by a guy in an eight foot tall mech suit, once.

Now what?

Walking backwards, raising the rifle, Saul intended to put a whole lot of distance between him and Explodey McCorpse. Getting covered with gore wasn't high on his lists of interests.

Twisting his head around to make sure he didn't step into anything big enough to trip him, he looked forward again. Nineteen rounds left in the mag, one ******** up corpse.

From where he was, Saul just watched.

"That's gross."

Fighting the natural urge to go over and poke it with a stick, or otherwise see what just happened. Moving away, really fast.

Just in case it really wanted to go all Matryoshka Doll on his a**.

Owle blinked. No notice taken of the fact she was a ******** by soldier boy, at least. Thank the gods.

So...

Following right behind the guy heading towards the trouble when you don't have a ranged weapon isn't the best idea. Ever.

Owle thought about staying where she was for a second. Two.

Then again, being seperated from the only person in this whole group she trusted to get her out of here alive...that was a worse idea.

With a muttered curse, she went jogging after Gabe.

Nearly tripping over his own numb foot, he dropped into a crouch with the rifle up. Facing a handful of people jogging his way, atleast they weren't zombies. Hopefully.

With the camopatterned helmet balancing delicately on his head, Saul didn't say anything. Just watching with a dumb look on his heavily tattoo'd face. Branching arcs of barbed wire crisscrossed his face in a design Saul thought was cool at the time.

Having not given much thought to the situation, Saul didn't stop to think that maybe they think him hostile and start shooting. Maybe not, considering his overall soldier-y look. Despite his forearms being covered in blood from the elbow down the flak jacket, dogtags, camo helmet and pants, and rifle were very distinct.

((Sorry I thought more time has passed, my mistake. I'll be back later. Pm me when enough time has passed))

When Gabe began jogging towards the sounds of gunshots, Drake silently followed, his katana drawn as he moves in his version of a jog, a slow shambling movement that is about as fast as a quick walking pace for an average person. Drake could care less that the medic was a telepath. He knew how to guard his mind against them, and her abilities only increased her worth to the group, despite her hasty and impetuous mind. He could also care less about Tweak's thinly veiled "get-rich-by-loot" schemes. He had everything he needed...well, except a few things...

Drake: "I think that's Saul."

He breaks his silence once he sees the unique tattoo branded across the face of the man before them.

It would have been easier if it had been a different part of the city. More space to see and such. He could have marched in the door and taken an elevator. That wouldn't have looked stupid. Riding an elevator up a skyscraper in zombie-land, with a motorcycle for company. Nope.

Kalis stopped by a residential building, pulling the goggles off his eyes and checking around for anything moving in his immediate area. Nothing.

He paused the music, and sat in a minute in the creepy silence. Slowly, he unscrewed the cap of the cantene, indulging himself in a bit more water. With a sigh, he screwed the cap back on, massaging his temple around the goggles. There was sign of marks on his cheek even, and it stung a little from sweat. Rummaging through his possessions, he pulled a little adhesive bandage out, and covered that.

Looking around, he didn't see any trash recepticle- he crushed it in his hand. The feeling of more, worse marks on his arms and hand beneath it all stung in a clear reminder that he might still be living on borrowed time. Or rather, at this point, that he lived at all was about that. He moved the fingers, shredding the wrap, and let the wind take it away. The scarf hid his frown when he pulled it back over his nose, and the goggles masked pure stubborness in his eyes.

I'm not done yet. Not yet.

Kalis grabbed the bike and led it inside; after kicking in the door of course.

It was an ordinary house, for modern time. Kind of funny, that it looked so usual in all of this. A few things were tipped over, or broken a little, but it looked very docile. Everything was war, death, destruction, gloom and horror. It seemed so wrong... so sad that this place was as normal as if nothing had ever hardly even happened. A misbehaved child could have caused it. But yet it was so still. So empty.

-clunk- -clunk- -clunk- -clunk-

Somehow, the steady sound of his bike being hauled up the stairs seemed to fill the space, make it more tolerable. He marched up steadily to the top.

There, looking around, he sighed. He would have to find a way up further, but it was just such and ordinary house, and-

-clunk-

He paused. Turning slowly, he followed a hallway through the upper floor of the little home. There, at the end, a door was open.

Inside, there was brown. Dark, ugly brown, everywhere, and he knew what that brown was. He knew the carpet floor of that brightly colored and simply decorated little room was stained with dried blood even before his eyes caught the little corpse. Or the larger, distinguishably once-human form crouched in a corner, looting through something clumsily.

His eyes went wide. "b*****d." the man breathed.

The 'zombie' glanced up, it's gaze unwaveing.

"b*****d!" it was a whisper saturated with malice.

It stood and came forward as Kalis marched, bike left behind, to meet it.

"BAAASTAAAAAAAARRRD!"

The beast reached out with claw and appenage, but Kalis didn't wait.

A thick gauntleted hand smacked them aside as he roared, beating the thing continually backward, hammering it with heavy armored fists, roaring on as he pummeled, until it hit the wall and he grasped the face in a hand, pulling the thing forward off it's balance, and slammed backward with all the force he could muster in the temporary rage.

"..."

Thick rivulets of blood trailed down the wall. The zombies hands and feet spasmed shortly, and slowly stopped. Panting, Kalis watched blankly as the thing remained unmoving.

Nothing moved. Not it, not the child, not the house, nothing in the whole damn city but an occasional gunshot broke the silence submersing him.

"...********..."

Turning around, he marched back to the bike, grabbing it somewhat roughly, wiping his gloved hand clean on the carpet before he hauled it around, picking out a window where he undertook the long process of moving himself and it up onto the roof.

Even the wind seemed still. Haunting.

Up on the flat bed roof, Kalis sat still a long while, pondering, considering nothing, gazing out at the sky.

I guess this is why I'm here after all. But...

I wish I had some good wine, no, just booze, on me.

Legs over the bike, he turned the ignition, and let it rumble louder, not matching so much as his cries had. Let them hear him. From up here, he'd hear and see a lot more too, be harder to pinpoint by sound or sight, and probably run into a lot less of the shamblers.

One finger tapped lightly at the play button.

MP3 Display Wrote:

Coheed and Cambria- "Welcome Home"

0:07/6:15

Well, he had to start sometime.

Hitting the gas, he launched himself off the edge, onto the next roof, across, and onward through the city. Somewhere, he was going to find something. And answer, something to hold responsible, something. But for now, all he had to do was look. He'd see what came next.

Saul gave a grunt of audible effort as he stood completely. That foot was going to move whether it wanted to or not, and it did not want to.

Raising his arms slightly, though still cradling his rifle, to show the red smeared forearms which were specked with little black pieces of rock and dirt.

"I've been better. This neighborhood sure has gone to hell."

Looking from face to face, hesitating when he saw the guy with the red gauntlets.

Totally forgot his name.

Two other guys with rifles. A woman with a real bad skin condition. And the dude with the gauntlets.

Atleast they're not trying to eat me.

"You guys come here often?"

"You know, I was thinking the same exact thing."

Gabriel remarked after the 'neighborhood went to hell statement. He looked around, then relaxed his arms slightly, slinging the rifle back over his shoulders by means of the strap. It still hung down in front, but he was getting tired of holding onto the thing.

"I blame the schools."

And so he stopped his casual sightseeing turning back to Saul. It didn't appear that too much was wrong with him aside from the blood smeared on some of his upper body. Other than that, the man was in surprisingly good condition given the current situation.

"So, you good as far as moving goes? I think we still have enough time..."

He looked at his watch.

"...To make a little detour for the guy that brought us out here in the first place, and then we're heading back to camp."

After finding a good pistol, wonderfully similair to his old P-99, Brody made his way towards the wall. As he was wandering through the crowds, inquiries were made as to where the other crazy people had gone. Rumor had it the dumb-asses had run into the town. Unfortunatley, one of those had saved his a**, and he felt somewhat inclined to help. Not about to walk the whole way in though, Brody looked for a mode of transport and found a Humvee sitting unattended off to the side. "SCORE!" Running quickly, Brody jumped into the vehicle and hit the ignition, tearing through the crowd and into the city before anyone had the chance to stop him.

That's just a shadow...right?

She squinted at the one in question. Yeah, just a shadow...

When she looked back at Saul again, it was only to notice the samurai-pirate-ninja pointing a sword at his leg. She wondered where the hell the sa-pi-nin was going with that...he wasn't about to stab an injured ally, was he?

Nah, of course he wouldn't do something like that...he's just resting the blade like that...it must be hard to keep it upright all the time.

She had pretty much just rolled her eyes at his mock disapproval. Taking herself too seriously.

Pulling into the city proper, Brody began to sweep the city streets, trying to find the group that had just gone and ran in.

Wait. Wait for it. WAIT FOR IT.

"Huh, well, it's killin' me!" Giving a good hardy laugh at his own joke, completely ignoring whether anyone else even considered it funny. Saul figured he may as well laugh while he still had something to laugh about.

"But seriously. Lighten up, I'm fine."

Owle collapsed into a fit of giggles at Saul's absolutely horrendous joke.

I like this guy already.

Mostly, it was funny cause he was making fun of Drake, whom she still hadn't forgiven for pissing her off before.

"He's got a point, I don't much like the idea of standing here...I keep feeling like something's right on top of us, though I think it's just the ones he killed..." she gestured to the corpses.

"Let's move."

Drake's wry response to Saul's joke:

Drake: "I had better find a mask then. I would not want your death on my head...or my face, more appropriately."

This Tweak reminds Drake of a packrat: more concerned about his loot than anything...and more than likely to forget it as soon as he obtained it so he could acquire more shiny loot.

Designated Hero Wrote:

"Alright, you heard the lady, gentlemen. Time to roll out. The sooner we get out of this place, the better."

Drake: "I heartily agree."

Drake nonchalantly slings the katana blade over one shoulder and follows after Gabriel with his trademark ponderous stride, scanning what he could with his left eye.

Drake: I wish that I could just take off this eyepatch...

(Jo, will change this if you don't like the idea)

Meeeer, thump, Weeeeeeer, thump, Meeeeeeer, thump.

The terrain was changing, the shops and small office buildings on the edge of the commercial districts gave way to houses, parks, and elementary schools. Proto-Soldier's torso spun around 360 degrees as it scanned its surroundings. Would it find anything?

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

10001101011100011

10001110000100000

COMBAT TESTING COMPLETE

NEW MISSION OBJECTIVES: PROCEED TO ST. AGRIPINA BROADCAST TOWER. STATION 13. RECONFIGURE SYSTEM FOR COMMUNICATION WITH YMIRISTAN CITADEL. DEFEND TOWER UNTIL OVERRIDE OF YMIRISTANI SYSTEM CODES IS COMPLETED.

Systems Check: Fully Operational.

12.7 MM: 90% remaining

Energy Sheilds: Deactivated.

Wether it had detected anything or not, Proto-soldier turned around and proceeded. It had more important matters to attend to.

Who or what was controlling it, and what was it trying to accomplish?

"I'm not interested in weapons..." Owle muttered, loudly enough for everyone to hear. She was, again, following closely behind Gabe. "But I'll stick with you guys till we get back to safety. By the way..."

She was finally remembering her role as team healer...she wasn't used to being able to do this stuff. She was, after all, just an apprentice.

"You want me to at least numb that for you?" she indicated Saul's injured leg. "Might make it a bit harder to walk, but you won't feel any pain, I promise."

She thought about what else she could do. "I'd rather we get out of zombie territory, and have a safe place and a good source of water before I try to clean and bind your wounds...see if there's anything more I can do. If we're stuck waiting for these guys to gather weapons or whatnot, I'll try taking care of it, then."

Grinning, Saul answered Owle's offer with a shake of his head.

"Thanks, you're a doll. But no, last thing I need is a numb leg when trying to run through a city."

Yeah.

No s**t.

Taking the rifle in his left, Saul raised his other arm. Drying blood clinging to his entire forearm, speckled with all manner of dirt and rocks.

"Though if you get a chance I wouldn't mind someone pulling some of the glass out of my arms."

"Hard to do while on the move..." Owle replied.

Damn near impossible, what kind of miracle worker do you think I am?

"When we stop at the shop, I'll definitely do what I can, though. Kid says we'll be there, soon, so try to hold up, okay?"

Yeah...she was definitely not the best healer in town. And she was a bit biased from seeing her own adventurer friends survive far, far worse.

Tweak might well have been the most unconcerned of the group. He seemed more intune with keeping the rifle from slapping him in the side when he walked then the zombie threat. It had been very quiet thus far, perhaps they were putting down the threat in another area of the city or something? Chances are there would have been more explosions and such though.

"Yeah, whatever you say chief." He seemed oh-so-concerned with Gabe's time limit. Instead he finally got the rifle situated and glanced over to Owle for some quick confirmation. "When we take that left turn," Pointing to said turn. ",well arrive at the place I'm talking about. I figure the owners a rotting corpse so we can just waltz on in 'kay? Well I mean soldier boy and stiffy can take point just in case some zombies are lurkin 'round. You can make with the first aid s**t then."

He, on the other hand, would just wait until he was sure it was clear and start packing up the stuff. Hopefully there would be some baskets, or even better a buggy, to throw all the stuff in that he wanted. Some other looter better not have beaten him to the good s**t!

...That would suck so hard.

Now going around the corner, Saul kept the rifle high. This time expecting something. What, exactly? Just something.

The blue-haired woman seemed to have a bad feeling about the area all of a sudden. Moving at a gradual walk-limp. Relieving a hand from the rifle to readjust the helmet on his head, still unclasped.

Saying nothing, just watching.

Owle hastened to obey Gabe's little signal, once she figured out what it was. She was more or less hiding behind him already, so, it didn't take that much movement to get her all the way behind him.

Gabe sighed. Well, they were here, couldn't be too long before they were heading back towards slightly less bloody ground. And the entire smell of the place was just pretty much unbearable. Gabe blew a bubble, something he usually ended up doing when he was just thinking about things. On the one hand, the fact that they hadn't encountered many enemies in the area lead him to believe that the place was safe, and so splitting into two groups was safe. On the other, splitting into two groups was usually a bad idea when the entire squad wasn't battle ready. And with the exception of himself, Gabriel wasn't certain if he had anybody with any real battle experience. Even if the two other armed men did have experience, one was wounded and the other only had one good eye.

Yeah, not exactly a well-trained, loyal squad of soldiers he had with him. Guess they'd have to do this the long way.

"Alright, let's start over here then."

And so he lead their little motley crew over towards the nearest shop, the first one that Tweak had pointed out.

Hearing the gun shots, Brody turned the hummer down the first street pointing that direction. Coming up on the first zobie's he had seen this little trip, he floored it and went straight over them.

The group sort of split as everyone went togawk through different windows. Saul stayed on the sidewalk, watching for any inhuman movement. Scratching the side of his face, Saul let the rifle hang down by his side. Glancing up, placing a hand on his helmet, Saul had an epiphany.

Simple, broad sign over a little shop built into the side of a four story building. Little, sure, but for an old store it was imposing. Grit on the windows made it difficult to see inside. Bars inlaid to discourage looting, Tweak chose poorly in targets.

Fuller's Antiquity

Glancing around quickly as the chin straps on his helmet danced around, Saul looked for the others.

"...Hey?" Giving a low shout to get somebody's attention.

Within the building Fuller was leaning close to the reciever of one of those many baby monitors. He it turned down low so that the sounds didn't carry beyond the room on the fourth floor. While he had hid the other unit downstairs he could still hear muffled sounds; they weren't as quite nor as quick on entering as those damned undead or whatever they were. They seemed to be considering their options; in which case either the damned had gotten smarter or something at least somewhat human was on the outside.

The fact that they were concerned with an antique story bothered him slightly and made him happy that the more dangerous occult items were held safely elsewhere.

For now he waited and listened.

"Oh ******** this!" His first words the moment Owle stepped up with some information on the oncoming swarm. First instinct was to dive in the nearest window and hide under something. Then again alot of people had died while leaving the city that way. Probably some corpses still rotting somewhere thanks to that.

The fact that he had a gun was totally irrelevant. Saul moved for a door and Tweak practically clung to his heels. Moment that door went down for entrance Saul was in and Tweak followed, anyone who tried to get in before Tweak would be hip-checked aside or straight up pushed. Either way he was getting in before anyone else.

And in the effect of running into the shop he turned around and started screaming, in several tones higher then his regular voice, something like this. "What in the bloody ****** are you dipshits **** doing, hurry the **** inside and close that **** door or get the **** out and go slow them down ****!" Really it just blended into really long, quickly spoken, run-on sentence that sounded a whole lot like he was repeating '******' over and over.

At the sound of more gunfire, Brody cursed good and long as he sped the vehicle up. What a way to spend the day, rolling through an abandoned city, running over a zombie here and now.

Covering a silent curse with his hand he looked about him as his hand thumbed a switch; shutting off the monitor, the red light going dark. Rising to his feet he hastily dawned an old military helmet. He couldn't bother to tell who's side had used it; all he knew that it was old, already had a bullet whole in it and was probably very unlucky for him.

Regardless he picked up his weapon as well. A hold over of the cold war, an AK-47. The familiar banna clip jammed in place, well oiled and a smooth running piece of killing machinery Gregory cradled it in his hands as he crouched at the door that thankfully swung in.

With his left shoulder to the stair well he was able to look around the door jam at the hall yet still remain mostly in cover.

Gabe wasn't so quick to run back. He knew that the door was halfway secure for the time being, but he still made sure to lift up his rifle and point it at the doorway, just in case the shelf somehow didn't hold. Didn't seem like the creatures outside had a great grasp of what was happening yet, so he lowered his rifle, sighed out of relief, and turned back to where everyone else had just run off to.

Damn, they were quick to run away. Probably a good survival trait, given the circumstances.

He didn't run, but he walked, rifle in hand, past the counter, the cash register, and into the hallway with whoever hadn't gone off on their own in tow. Once there, they were confronted with a cursing Tweak, which was beginning to become an all-too-familiar sight.

"A trap?"

Gabe slowly walked forward, stopping just next to Saul.

"Maybe someone's holed up in here. Don't think one of those things outside would be smart or desperate enough to set up one of these."

Despite that last statement, he couldn't help but lift his gun and aim up the staircase. Just in case.

For once he was not in any real rush. So all the rumors about this place were true eh? No wonder he had been warned many times to never, ever try knocking this place over. This let Saul go first obviously, probably Gabe, and maybe Owle, he made sure to catch it before he was the only one left though. Being at the end of the line with that pounding seemed a bad, no terrible, idea.

Both arms went over the head with the rifle held high. Tweak made sure to keep this up until he stepped over the line. Normally the rifle would have probably tapped it and blown him away, it would have sucked hard. Being short sucked hard in and of itself but eh. Once that obstacle was past he lowered the rifle and very slowly made his way up the steps. Most of this walk was spent creeping along the wall and glancing down, up, in front of him, over his shoulder as if death were closing in from all directions. All the while cursing about how much this situation sucked it.

Paranoid? Just a tad.

[OOC: Since I was working on the post before I knew the pause was official. ]

((If it hasn't been comminicated yet, I'm experienceing massive computer problems. This means I won't be around to progress the plot much untill, well, I find out what's wrong.

More news when I find out wassa matta.))

Kuroiten Wrote:

Drake moves next to Owle as they walk towards the first of the two buildings the twitchy one had pointed out.

Drake: "What did you see?"

He asks this in a soft voice. Not so the others couldn't hear; they could pay attention if they wanted. Drake merely didn't want to disturb them.

Going back in time a bit...

Owle shook her head. "I see nothing. I only feel. And I told you what I felt."

And then there wasn't any more time for conversation. Her scan picked up zombies and she shouted a warning.

As Gabe held the zombies off, Owle seemed torn between sticking with him or running toward the shop. Self-preservation won out in the end, though.

And, so, she was here, in the shop, following everybody up the stairs, being very very careful to step over the tripline and not through it. She was relieved Gabe had made it through...and noted that Saul was also competent.

((In the future, there's no need to wait for me. I'm very very busy IRL and won't be around much. Feel free to puppet Owle and take advantage of her radar if I haven't posted in a while.))

Gabe was right behind Saul. Whatever was behind them wasn't going to catch up to them anytime soon, so it seemed like the right thing to do to put himself in harm's way to keep the other's safe. He ducked under a wire, making sure to catch up to Saul once he had. Carefully, painstakingly inching his way up the stairs.

Not like it really mattered, because Tweak had probably given away their position long ago. Regardless, Gabe spoke in a hushed tone.

"Been through the training exercises. Squad never really dealt with booby-trapped houses too often, most of our work was retrieval stuff. Quick in and out sorta thing, y'know?"

While Gabe never really missed his squad, he probably would have killed to have the extra firepower now. Even if they didn't listen to orders, constantly squabbled with one another and acted with the sort of Rambo mentality that put everyone in danger.

On second thought, he'd stick with the group he had now.

"How about you? You obviously aren't green."

Without waiting for an answer, Gabe ducked under the wire, quickly stepped into the hallway, and then knelt down at the nearest corner. Rifle up, he leaned carefully around the corner, checking to see if anyone or anything was waiting for them.

Surprisingly nimbly for someone who moves so slowly, Drake hops over the first trip wire and lands with the small grinding and clinking sounds of metal plates shifting against one another.

Drake: I only hope it is enough to dissuade the things...

He still hears the thuds of their bodies against the walls and the door hollowly echoing eerily through the building. Shaking his head, Drake continues up the stairs, hearing the thuds of the things and the creaking of the stairs above him. On the third floor landing, Drake hears a twanging sound...

Drake: They've found another.

By the time Drake makes it to the final set of stairs, no one is there to point out the tripwire. With a muttered curse, Drake lifts his eyepatch and rubs at the skin around his closed eye...which, if anyone's watching, seems to flick open and shut as he does. As he is rubbing his eye, the obnoxious voice of Tweak rings out, and Drake grins ruefully. He then flips the patch down and crawls under the tripwire at the top of the stairs.

Drake: "What now?"

Though he is speaking quietly, his voice is deep enough that it carries and sounds loud in the quiet following Tweak's complaint.

Owle shoved her medical bag under the wire, then...wait. In the dim light of the shop it was hard to tell, but the girl had vanished, and there was a black cat climbing the stairs beneath the wire...

Then Owle was on the other side, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder once more. She sidled up to Gabe as well as she could.

"You want me to contact whoever's up there? Find out more about what it is?"

Gabe stood up, finding that the corner lead to another set of stairs. He sighed out of relief or resignation, it was hard to tell which, before nodding his head and turning to look over his shoulder at Owle. He stepped calmly into the hallway, so they weren't all huddled against the wall.

"You can do that?"

Gabriel cast his gaze towards the stairs. After seeing the shotgun at the end of the last flight of stairs, Gabe had no question that whoever was upstairs had some firepower. If they could get up there without any problems or exit wounds, that would be great.

"Yeah, sure. I'm all for it."

Casual shrug as he inspected something that looked valuable. This writer is entirely too lazy to specify what that object is, but be relieved to know that it was not value. With a 'dignified' huff he turned away from it and glanced to Saul. "Yeah. Did not see any of them shoot back when I was making a run for it." Short pause as he rolled his eyes, "Not like many of those running made much effort to shoot at them."

So the telepath was good for something other then making him paranoid? That was cool, she seemed kind of useless before. Well that was not contin the whole 'her being a walking radar' thing that was kind of cool. Either way he was not liking having her around.

How many times had he been mind raped by now?

Owle nodded to Gabe. She was prepared to follow him if he moved further up the stairs...she could walk and talk mentally at the same time.

She reached for the mind she had sensed upstairs, the one that didn't give her the heebie jeebies and so was probably human or closest to it.

"Hey there. You're not crazy, and you're not hearing things...I'm a telepath, my name is Owle Isohos, and I have no ill intentions towards you."

Her voice was soothing, calm, and sincere...Owle was using all her skill to make it sound that way.

"My friends and I made a misguided trip into the city, and we've come in here to get away from an approaching zombie swarm. I hope you won't begrudge us a little hospitality, given the circumstances."

By this point, Drake's slow pace had brought him up two stairs, and he was testing out the third as Owle contacted the owner of the place with her mind...or at least, that's what it looked like she was doing. She could be having stomach cramps for all Drake knew...and he wasn't even looking in the first place. He was too busy with the step in front of him...

Gabriel was starting to make his way up the stairs. While he wasn't as methodical in the approach as Drake was, he took his time all the same. Mainly because he didn't want to startle the person that Owle was attempting to make contact with. He was about four stairs up when Owle spoke to the rest of the group. He paused, looked over his shoulder, and stared at her in silence.

After a brief moment, he simply nodded his head.

"Alright. Just yell if he tries anything. We'll watch the rear just in case those things make it inside."

He smiled and relaxed his stance a little, stepping down from the stairs.

"Be careful."

What was with these people? So their resident telepath, who he was starting to notice looked really weird when he paid attention to her, was going to go up the stairs alone and chat? Were they totally disregarding that this person was hold up in an old building with traps? Also, on that note, did they not give a s**t that he had warned them that these people were psychotic?

"So thats one less person. Y'all do whatever it is ya wanna do. Just dont blame me when some crazy ******** blows 'er away y'know?" That was about as optimistic and concerned as he was going to get apparently. These people were crazy man to let their radar get away like that. What, did you think he was actually concerned about Owle proper?

In the mean time, when not ranting about everyone around him being an idiot, he was just inspecting their surroundings. Nothing of value really seemed to be hanging out on this floor. This was such a waste of his time and potential threat to his life, s**t. With nothing else to entertain him he started playing with his rifle, looking through it, and play-aiming at random things.

Saul waited uneasily at the bottom of the flight. Everyone else was doign the same, except for the people brave enough to go up and likely tep on some grenade taped to the floor.

Unease aside, Saul swayed slightly, shifting his weight from leg to leg. That leg of his was starting to become a giant pain.

Thinking a little about what Tweak said, he couldn't think of a lot to say back. He was right, the guy living here was proving to be either extremely sane or totally psychotic.

Meanwhile, outside of town, several fliers have mysteriously appeared in the midst of the camp, most of which are concealed or destroyed by members of Alpha-Epsilon. Anyone who made it to the posters first would see one of those Egyptian eye things on a yellow circle with wings with the words "Ra Syndicate" written underneath it as the header. Then they would see several lines of text advertising weaponry and armor created by the above syndicate...and at about this point the flyer would have been torn down and destroyed.

((s**t hits the fan now. Because y'all are taking forever.))

Downstairs, during the whole adventure of stair climbing, the sound of slamming against the building would get louder, and louder. The gradual increase in volume that wouldn't bring any noticable, immediate change, and keep the occupants inside unaware.

Until the sound stopped. Completely.

Several minutes of silence...

A door breaking. Wood splinering. Glass crashing.

Many, many footsteps and stamping feet in uneven patterns of the living dead. Scraping of claws and bone on wood, bodies falling down as they clambered over one another.

Coming around a corner in the streets, still wondering where the gunfire had come from, Brody slams on the breaks as he see's a mass of zombie flooding through a door frame, the very burnt looking door in the street. "Well ********," looking at the building, and deciding that it must have a backdoor, he does his best to turn around quickly and leave. A moment later, he found what he was looking for, an alley.

Jumping out of the Hummer, Brody ran between the buildings, counting until he was pretty sure it was the right one. And just his luck, the door was wide open. Or maybe it wasn't. All along the ceiling, and now that he looked, the walls outside, were holes and scratch marks, as if some spider like creature had come through this way.

Drawing his pistol, and wishing he had grabbed a shot gun, Brody stepped cautiously into the building. Hearing the commotion in the front room, he looks for doors leading that direction, and see's there is only one, the other leading to a set of stairs. "Well, atleast I got the right building."

Gabe silently cursed to himself at the sound of the crashing. He looked up to the stairs, where Owle had gone. He hoped she was a lot safer than they were right then, becuase they'd be hauling a** to get up there if the situation didn't get any better.

Instead of freaking out like Tweak did, Gabriel looked to Saul, nodded his head towards the stairwell, and then moved towards it himself. He knelt down, rose his rifle, and sighted down the stairs. Since he didn't have any gum at his disposal, Gabe resorted to pushing out his cheek with his tongue and squinting his left eye.

"This just gets better and better."

He commented to himself as the first clawed hand made its presence known on the landing.

"We're going to have to make a break for it sooner or later. Hey, kid."

He cast a sidelong glance over his shoulder to Tweak.

"Head up the stairs, but be careful. Figure out if there are any traps or anything, then come back down here. We'll hold this line until then. Hopefully the guy holed up here had some sort of escape route planned."

Putting his faith in the one person who was probably the least trustworthy didn't seem to make much sense, but out of the group assembled, Tweak was going to be the least useful in their defense of the stairs.

She'd be able to see him if only she would turn around. Fuller had moved through a series of rooms and was along a back wall towards the corner; he could just make her out through the door frame.

With a softness of step he moved foward, slowly, cautiously, defensively; but ever alert for anything that could go wrong.

Such as a bunch of those monsters seeming to break in downstairs. He didn't need to see it and distance may seperate him; but the cursing and screaming on on coupled with the sound of movement downstairs ment nothing good to him.

"Ahh bugger."

Coming out of the room he grabbed Owle and moved in front of her, pushing her back to the stair wells.

"You best get your friends up here if you want to live."

It seemed he didn't have any options left to him. The noise was too much, there were far too many of the beasts down stairs and these fools had more or less breached his little impromptu fortress to that horde.

Checking his weapon he sighed.

"Well? Hurry it up!"

"s**t." Surrounded by the unexpected horde, Brody makes a run for the stairs, shooting at any of them that are likely to get in his. He gets 5 of them down, consequently the majority in this small room, and has to reload, but is too busy trying to avoid the last zombie between him and delayed death. Tossing the gun to his right hand, he draws his rapier in one clean motion, decapitating the zombie in the process, and up the first set of stairs.

Tweak took all of three seconds to debate what Gabe said before making a break for it. There was not even a good luck involved. Instead he made his way to the stairs then scrambled up them. He luckily stopped like a step up and started peering where he was walking very intently. They had found several traps at this point, running straight into death would be lame.

"Oi', Radar, traps on these stairs or not?!" Voice would hopefully carry up to where Owle and Fuller were. From there he continued creeping forward and keeping an eye out for traps, stepping only to a step after confirming it's safety.

But if Owle and Fuller called down a warning he would totally go about making a break for it. A very quick, snappy, 'Why am I bothering' call of warning about where the trap was, if he was informed or just found the thing, would be practically all the others got. And from that point he was going up the stairs.

He hesitated for a moment, then looked towards Saul and Drake. Blowing the stairs seemed like a good idea. From what he had seen the things downstairs weren't incredibly coordinated, and very few people could jump up even a small gap. The claws on their hands probably wouldn't help, either.

Traps were nice, but impassable gaps were better.

He nodded his head, and, as if to give him further motivation to act, Gabe heard Owle's voice in his head.

"s**t." He muttered beneath his breath. "Saul." He pointed to the stairs.

"Work your magic, I'll cover you. You." He looked towards Drake. "Go ahead and make sure that she's alright. We'll join you upstairs shortly."

And then he turned back to the stairs, rifle coming up once more. Hopefully he wouldn't need to fire at all. But if there was one thing about St. Agrippina that Gabe could be sure of, it was that hope alone hadn't saved all the 'people' down below.

Brody was a fool. He took not the time nore care that the others had on their way up and he tripped a very simple trap. The fragments of a grenade flew through the air, spraying a deadly arc of twisted metal fragments at him. Letting others know something was happening; but also drawing all the attention of thos blasted beasts in the building to those stairs.

Meanwhile upstairs Fuller was hearing the commotion, gun shots fired; and now, a grenade of all things. Something had tripped a trap.

"********!"

Not carrying about the sudden change that Owle went through as he didn't see it he hurried his way down the hall and ducked into a room. Taking a different weapon that was propped up against the wall he swung his shoulders, swinging the assault rifel on its strap to lay along his back.

Now in his hands was something much more helpful, a MGL-140, 40mm grenade launcher.

"Bastards make my home a target and now you're going to help defend it or I'll shoot you all myself."

Saul suddenly jumped at the voice in his head. Taking some pride in his sanity the voice took him totally by surprise and some confusion. Turning back to look for someone who maybe was actually talking, he made eye contact with Gabe. Who was, actually talking.

Hopefully this apartment gets a lot nicer higher up.

Giving a nod, Saul slid the 203 launcher on the front of his launcher open and fed in a high explosive grenade. Stairs probably wouldn't hold up against too many explosions.

Hopefully.

Downstairs, the horde was quick behind Brody. A few of the shot zombies climbing back to their feet, seemingly unphased by the nondescript bulletholes that hit them. Even the throat-cut zombie found his feet and continued forward. Ever more poured into the building, all making their way to the hapless victim.

Gunshots from downstairs were a new touch. Zombies didn't, hopefully, use guns.

Then who're they shooting at? Each other?

Giving a short glance back to Gabe and Drake, Saul spoke.

"I'll be back in a second. Hold the stairs." Without so much as another word, Saul vaulted himself over the stair rail, over and down to the next flight down. Landing awkwardly on his good leg, he realized that it was, in fact, like a ten foot drop. Beat taking the stairs all the way around.

Turning to the stair rail again, he threw himself over a second time. Getting down to the ground floor with record time, free hand holding the helmet on his head on the descent.

Only this time, landing on his bad leg. No pain from the complete numbness. Hitting the step with with enough force that the blood surged to the calf and burst the turnicate, allowing whatever was waiting in the leg into the wrest of his body.

"s**t."

((Actually, Brody DIDN'T hear Owle. I specifically said that in my post, if you'd been paying attention. Her telepathy isn't an area of effect thing (it can be but why would she want the zombies hearing?) so she had to choose targets. She sent the message only to Gabe, Tweak, Saul, and Drake. She didn't know Brody was there, so she didn't send the message to him. So Brody doesn't know about the seventh stair, and he didn't hear Owle saying to get the hell up the stairs.))

And Owle suddenly found herself alone. Fuller had gone off in a direction that was closer to the zombies, and everyone else seemed to be at least as far away from her as he was.

So...what was Owle to do? She was going to find a window, dammit, and get out into the open air on the roof. She wanted these people to live but there was nothing she could do. Hive minds didn't respond well to telepathy, and her only weapons were meant for real close range. Closing range with monsters that could burst into a shower of spikes did not seem like a very good idea. So...no, Owle wasn't going to stick around in the combat zone. She'd sit tight on the roof for a while, and if any of her companions survived she'd try to heal them...if that didn't look like it was possible she was flying the hell out of here. Hopefully zombies couldn't fly. Yeah, hopefully.

Drake doesn't seem overly perturbed about the sudden presence of a voice in his head, and he nods almost automatically in response.

Designated Hero Wrote:

"...You." He looked towards Drake. "Go ahead and make sure that she's alright. We'll join you upstairs shortly."

Drake: "Aye, commander."

Whether this was said with respect, amusement, or sarcasm was difficult to tell from Drake's tone of voice, but he turns to trundle up the stairs...at least until Saul leaps over the bannister to the landing below. Drake pauses and begins to assess the situation. Then Gabe leaps down the stairs as well. Now Drake is extremely confused and torn between making sure that Owle is alright and helping his new comrades avoid what he was sure would be a terribly gruesome death.

Drake: And if I disobey Gabe, it threatens his position as leader...but his life is also threatened...

Locked in his decision-making, Drake remains where he is, a frown on his face...

((Post underway. Also, you'll have to wait an hour for me to actually post. An hour or so. Class, etc.))

Wiping sweat from his brow, Kalis looked around him. Lot of nothing, you've managed to find... He sat, letting the wind blow his hair around and stewing over his lack of success. Taking his water bottle up again, he started to pull down the scarf to drink and paused.

More gunfire.

He paused and waited. But this time, it didn't stop like before. If they're still firing... then it's not ending right away like before...

"s**t." turning the bike around, he aimed for the direction of the gunfire, blaring the motor as he tried to make the first jump quickly. The movement from roof to roof was rough, jolting him more violently now that he was being quicker and less careful about it, rough on his already torn up body. He was glad he'd thought to wear extra covering; he thought the injuries from the Chaos might actually be getting worse. But none of the violent bouncing was as violent as the jolt when he found what he was looking for, several tops away. Someone standing on a roof; and plenty of blue.

"Hm..." he leaned forward, and the engine roared.

Hitting the roof edge, the motorcycle took off into the air, pulling across the last gap.

The buzz went from quit to loud almost instantly, the engine roar practically overhead.

Turned way over on one side, he scrapped his lower leg across the roof, top leg put forward. With a loud growl, he scrapped the boot against the ground, straining to stop sideways, kicking up sparks off the greaved boots on the roof, turning himself sideways and slowing, edge of the sword in one hand skittering along. The bike slide right past Owle, in front of her, and diagonally on imbetween her and the pursuer.

Done.

Without a sound of aggression, he gripped the sword in both hands, twisting the blade around and angling the tip downward diagonally, and drew it up and to the right; digging deep into the side of the zombie where it slowed, going up through the abdomen and into the ribs, creaking along until momentum and the push of both hands split the rest of the way through, and Kalis skidded the rest of the way along the roof, twisting more as his foot dragged. The wheel bumped against the roofs edge, and he stopped, nearly facing the other two left.

The upper portion of the creature landed with a sick plopping noise on the ground, and stopped moving soon there after.

"Somehow, I'm not entirely surprised." facing Owle, a thick gloved hand came up, catching one finger under the tinted goggles of the now lightly blood spattered face, and drew them down on top of the scarf pulled up around his face to cover mouth and nose, mostly.

Kalis swung one leg around, off the bike, and turned on his heels, toward the last creature.

Lowered the tip of the blade until the claymore went parallel to the ground, long sword pointing on ahead of him.

And rushed it.

The sudden scraping of metal on the rooftop was almost like a signal that Drake had been waiting for. Without a moment's hesitation now that he knows what he's going to do, he leaps down the stairs, following Gabe's route and landing directly next to him. He addresses Gabe as the soldier fires on the undead that come in his sights.

Drake: "If anyone is going to survive, they'll need a leader. In that respect, you're not expendable, Gabe..."

Drake stands from the crouch he landed in, a resolute expression on his face and his katana before him in a one-handed fighting stance.

Drake: "...but I am."