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Post by alfred on Mar 16, 2017 18:10:31 GMT -5
Smokey Feather
notes: it's fallout with less technology and more ferals.
radiation's become the silent killer. it's not a matter of if but when you lose your mind. it makes you rabid and hungry and dangerous. this is modern day america and nuclear holocaust. to survive you must protect yourself from the elements while simultaneously avoiding ferals and other potential threats.
it pitches someone in the process of turning feral, it could be weeks for them or it could be years yet. they run into another who is under threat by a group of rogues. it takes some convincing but they decide on traveling together. both are in the dark of the other's danger as they're both trying to keep that secret for as long as they can.
auto's character(s)
Character Name: Lewis Noskov Gender: male Age: 31 Job/Role: blue-collar worker, odd jobs and service work.
Appearance: At an imposing 6'6", Lewis can be rather intimidating. He's not especially thin but well built and sturdy, very lean and agile looking. Though one might suspect him for a man of strength, he's no real talent for hand-to-hand. This might be peculiar coming from a previously employed security guard but, in all honesty, he never really put to use any real training. His stature coupled with a nightstick was usually enough to deter any aggressor from a scuffle with the man. Naturally, he's a habit of slouching, pushing his shoulders forward and making himself comfortable in even the most pressing of situations. He never stands too poised and ready and can often exhibit a rather bored posture. Instead, any alertness you might gain from the man is in his gaze as he's always observing. He's a combed wave of brown/blond hair and a pair of muted green eyes. The few notable features he possesses is a larger hooked nose, presumably broken a couple times, and a light complexion. On good days, he wears a nicer pair of slacks and a button down blouse but, casually, he's accustomed to worn flannels, simple Ts, and jeans.
- Though well-mannered and kind, he's also unhinged and mildly sadistic. He's quaint with a dry sense of humor and awkward social skills. To an extent, he's a good and likable character. He's just got some very questionable motives. Lewis has incredibly low ambitions and choses to live his life day-by-day. He's stuck in the present without so much as a thought towards the future.
- He's a mild alcoholic and has resorted to seeking out coffee grounds or tea to subdue his addiction.
- Used to be a decent piano player when he was younger. He can't really play anything now, though, but a few basic tunes.
- He's third generation Russian, was born in the states and never spoke the language.
smoke's character(s)
Character Name: Jeremiah "Jerry" Gale Gender: Male Age: 29 Job/Role: Can't remember { Description} Jerry isn't the tallest giant around, but he does have a more than decent height of 6'0 feet. His figure is just under what is considered lean, but he's no shrimp or anything. Just never made an insane habit of having exercise in every moment of his life. Even with his decent structure, he actually shows himself to be quite lazy and slow-moving, like an animal waiting for something to bother. It's unlike how he used to hold himself up. All because of a stupid wound. The left leg, which he managed to get a nasty gash in, took the brunt of radiation and toxins while he'd been out traveling for a newer place to bunk. He was just a lick too late in tending to it. It's patched up now, but hard to walk on and has taken a taut, malnourished look. The rest of the damage traveled without leaving anything noticeably physical in its wake, traveling up and up until it reached his noggin. Like a bomb's clock, he's generally kind and sweet while it's ticking down on its remaining time. When there's no time left, he becomes the exact opposite, and will kill you in your sleep just because. Or, if he's feeling grumpy, he'll just wake you up by tearing your intestines out. Then the clock resets. Unfortunately, the time goes down quicker and quicker every reset. - When you first meet him, he's nervous and fidgety (especially now that he's turning), but will prove to be more open, attached and happy when you get to know him
like the cinnamon roll he is, if you ever get past your first cycle with his mental clock. - He seems to know how to strategize and hunt things pretty well, which implies he did similar things before the world went to s***. That, or it's just the feral in him wanting to kill things.
- Jerry can't remember what he did as a job before, or if he even had one at all. Perhaps it was something dealing with people, because he honestly hates being alone. It's necessary though, because he doesn't like to hurt things.
- Being around other ferals is not dangerous for him 80% of the time, because they can tell he's turning, and at a good pace. And attacking those like them simply won't do. Sometimes that doesn't spare him though.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Mar 16, 2017 18:20:50 GMT -5
(*lurks*)
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Post by alfred on Mar 16, 2017 21:17:57 GMT -5
( woo. my tenses are a mess here, sorry. )
The days were short anymore. Night lingered into the mornings, the sun hidden behind thick clouds and dust storms. At night, it came early, taking everything as the lost reflection of a hazy light sank low into the horizon. The land was quiet and still, silhouetted by a fading orange flare. Nothing welcomed the dark. Instead, they found ways to avoid it. Those that could built fires while others sought solace in a peaceful nook. They lay there and slept, praying to god nothing discovered them.
Ferals were few and far between, those that turned having long since past. Occasionally, a surge occured and one's surroundings became more inhospitable than they might remember. Entire settlements had been devastated by a turn, wiped off the map overnight by a ravage quell. The occurrences were few but surely notable given the number of settlements that had claimed land since the fall. It'd been nearly two years since then and the greatest threat now had become the survivors, people turned cold and hungry.
Flames licked at Lewis's fingers as he added another log to the fire. Dimming, the brilliant light rose again to consume the wood, nearly burning Lewis's skin at its strength. Stepping back, he collapsed into a chair - the thing threadbare, torn, and smelling distinctly of smoke and decay. It'd been at least two days since he'd slept and he could feel exhaustion creeping in, pulling at his limbs as he moved. Sitting there, warmed by the fire, he almost felt tempted to drift in and out of a restless sleep. Something light but enough to rise from at even the slightest of sounds. Too tired to eat and too tired to move, it'd probably be his best option but, instead, he lay there awake, staring into the fire with vacant intensity.
The overgrown pasture that surrounded him was the remnants of a suburban home's backyard. A teetered swing lay beyond his fire next to a broken fence and behind him stood the struggling structure of a home well past its prime. The decrepit house was in shambles, barely standing still and broken. Though he paid the structure no heed when he'd pulled the chair from its half exposed living room, he knew better than to trust staying even one night in its failing arrangement. No, he'd face the elements outside and a fine fire before he'd set another foot inside.
Sighing deeply, he turned once in his chair, removing his hood and pulling down the dark blue scarf that hid his face. Taking in shallow breaths to avoid breathing in the musk of a dying world, he rummaged in the pack laying next to his chair before finding his canteen and sitting back again. Undoing the cap, he took a small swig of murky water and relaxed again, almost careless to everything else that surrounded him.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Mar 16, 2017 22:23:33 GMT -5
alfred(All I can say is that I hope you clear it up in the future) (Pardon my cringey reply quality ;_;) How many days it had been, Jeremiah wasn't sure. It all just... stopped. There was no longer a need to count, because there wasn't anywhere anyone needed to be. It was just day and night, nothing more. No Monday, Tuesday and so on. It annoyed him, to take the time to pay attention to such things. Just like everything else annoyed him. A sigh escaped his lips as he limped along, enjoying the protection his trench coat gave him. He'd plucked it off a straggler, who wasn't a feral, after it was decided his body could no longer supply a likeable amount of warmth on its own. It was the same with most of the supplies he currently had, snatched off of others. That was just how things were done now. Take what you needed, and Jerry needed warmth. And a snack, which was why he pulled the last piece of flesh from the femur he'd been carrying. The bone was tossed aside when he smelled something. His nose twitched at the barely there scent of smoke. It was so recognizable even though it was small, because it complimented the scent of burning flesh and blood. After a moment of thought, he headed toward the scent, expecting to see the glow of fire soon. As he walked, muscles twitching, he became slower. Then, he stopped completely. His brows bent before his body buckled and he fell to his knees. Breath hitching and muscles clenching painfully, he grew still for a moment before easing up. Like waking from sleep, he twitched again and shook his head. Jerry's clock had reset. Immediately, as always, he tasted blood in his mouth, felt flesh stuck in his teeth. And released a cry, a short noise of despair. Plopping onto his side, he let exhaustion set in. It was growing worse every day. The turn. Then, he registered the smoke again. It meant a person. That, or a freshly killed one. The idea made his body jerk and shiver, clock shifting forward a few clicks. He shut his eyes tightly though willing it away. After, he resumed his journey. Picking mess out of his teeth, he looked around the ruined and dying land, which was everywhere except for probably less than a handful of places on earth. Sometimes, he forgot what the world was like before. Was he happy? Mad about his life? Shaking his head, he grabbed at the bandana and scarves around his neck. Jerry usually had them pulled over his face when his clock was reset, not wanting to encourage or embrace the turning in any way. He used to have a gas mask, but he managed to destroy it the first time he attacked someone. Finally, he was met with the sight of a man calling the crappy property home. What a shame. He half hoped that he had been killed, or left the fire to burn. If he had though, then the fire would've been bigger. Sighing, after much hesitation, he limped toward the other human, mentally purring at the thought of sitting by fire. Half the time, poor Jerry forgot how to start his own, so he didn't bother trying anymore. Just like other small things, slowly being forgotten and replaced vicious thoughts and violent tendencies. Once he was close enough, he took hold of some of the ruined fencing, eyeing the fire as he removed enough of his toxin protection to clearly speak to the person beyond the fencing. "Is your opinion not to share with strangers?" he found himself asking, looking into the ruined area, seeing the home and the swing, which was closest. After speaking, he put his protection back up. Whether he was allowed to stay or not, he wasn't removing it for the rest of the night. It wasn't like they were going to talk the whole night if he stayed. He didn't move any closer, not wanting to spook the other any more than he probably already had. So, Jerry just stayed where he was, waiting more or less patiently. It was a good thing his clock was ticking, so he was more or less sane at the moment.
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Post by alfred on Mar 17, 2017 1:26:13 GMT -5
Smokey Feather ( i edited a tad too late but i believe i fixed it. i don't normally have issues with tenses but that post killed for some reason. xp your reply's fine!! and sorry for the delay. )
The evening was peaceful, the sun's rays fading quickly. Come nightfall, you'd nothing but the light you made to guide you by. The moon and stars rarely showed themselves anymore, their shine just barely visible through a permanent cloud of dust and debris. It made travel that much harder and hunting during the night all the more important if you knew what you were looking for. Mostly, Lewis preferred to wait till sunup, only venturing out into the darkness when he was most desperate to scavenge from another's campsite. Tonight, he'd enjoy the rest and warmth a low fire provided him. Something to take the edge off of this endless pursuit of greener pastures and better air.
In all honesty, he cared less and less everyday, this whole debacle with Murphy's gang just serving to further his pessimism on things getting any better. Obviously, he cared enough if he was willing to run, but his endurance could only wear so thin, his body tolerate so much, before he collapsed in a heap of flesh and bone, nothing human left. The thought was enough to make him afraid, sure, but he half expected he'd welcome death when it came. Anything - eternal rest and all - sounded a hell of a lot sweeter than this wasteland.
Closing his eyes against the heat, Lewis lowered his head into his hand, resting the canteen on his lap as he sank deeper into his chair. The crackling of the fire was soothing and soft, it's warmth melting and appreciated in the bitter chills that swept over these ruins. This day, more than others, had been entirely uneventful. Besides putting further distance between himself and Murphy, he'd done nothing more than loot a few abandon vehicles and crash into a broken vending machine. Despite this all, he felt as though every ounce of his energy had been sucked from him, leaving him dry and completely exhausted. Perhaps this is why he did next to nothing but open his eyes and stare passively when he heard the voice.
Taking his time, Lewis simply observed, looking the man up and down before surveying the land behind him. To his knowledge, the stranger was alone and ragged as hell, almost a mirror image of exhaustion and despair. Lewis found comfort if only in the fact that he could relate and smirked half-heartedly, the gesture obscured by his fingers. After a long moment of silence, Lewis lowered his hand and sat forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm not opposed to the idea, no," he said simply, his eyes still studying the figure. "But I have to say, I haven't got much in the way of sharing anyhow." Taking up his canteen again, he took another sip before holding it gently between two hands. "Sorry."
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Post by Smokey Feather on Mar 17, 2017 11:27:02 GMT -5
alfred Jeremiah didn't listen past "not opposed to", moving past his spot from the fence. His movements were slow, sluggish and slightly misplaced. Common for someone who was just about killed from exhaustion. Whether he was permitted or not, he settled himself down by the fire. That was what he wanted. He didn't give a crap about anything else the other man had. Yet. So, he would be content with just the burning fire. Even wearing the thick coat by the flames, it still felt great on his body. Not saying anything else, he just stared at the fire, yet was still alert for movement or noise within the quiet night. It was almost always quiet in the new world. Quiet except for the occasional anything really. The thought made him frown, head tilting before he reached over his shoulder to pull his load off. Just the usual a person would try to have in an apocalypse. Except for the Care Bear. Jerry had a stuffed Tenderheart Bear he kept with him. Talked to him. Having the toy around made up for the lack of people to talk to, in Jerry's opinion. Plus, Tenderheart didn't protest when the idea of killing was brought up. After softly greeting the stuffed animal and setting him down nearby, he resumed looking around his belongings for water, to wash the copper taste out of his mouth. Finding the container, he stared at the metallic cylinder for a moment, gears turning in his head. How did he open it again? It took a long moment, but he eventually processed what to do, and twisted the top off. Meh. Screw protection, he thought. It was no use to him in the end anyway. Sighing, he pulled down the scarves and bandana to take a drink. The first was small, swishing the water around his mouth to wash it out. After spitting nearby, he took a second drink meant to swallow. All the while, he ignored the other person, going about his own business. If he upset the "host", then that meant no fire. Well, he could always just add another kill under his belt, but he was unusually tired at the moment. "... Name?" Jerry eventually asked the other. It eventually got to him, just sitting there with another person without doing anything. Especially if they were going to be there for a while. They could at least exchange a few hesitant words, yes? They'd both, most likely, walk away from each other by morning. Hopefully it wouldn't end badly though, like it did ninety-five percent of the time. When he came across other people, tried to talk and such, his clock usually ran out of time before they could part ways. He hadn't had a long-term companion since before he sliced his leg. Poor guy was killed by ferals. The memory made him grit his teeth, reaching and grabbing his bear to pull it to him, finding comfort in it no matter how weird he looked. Still, he waited patiently for any response that would come, if at all, from the individual sitting in the chair. Sometimes he wondered when he'd stop seeing people. Humans, who weren't turned into hideous creatures. Already were unturned humans becoming a rare species, not that he jumped in surprise when he saw one. Dead men walking was what they were anyway. Trying to live through a decaying world inherited by evil. It was probably safer to live alone, or in a very small group at most. When sane, he never wanted to risk the safety of others if he could avoid it. Currently, he couldn't avoid it. When not protected by anything, his body was close to stone cold. Any warmth was welcome by him. So, there he was. Enjoying it quietly, grumbling something occasionally to his Care Bear, he wasn't compelled to talk much to strangers anymore. Did he look at least a little bit unstable? Yes, but he stopped caring a long time ago, because there was nothing he could do about it.
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Post by alfred on Apr 7, 2017 22:59:35 GMT -5
Smokey Feather ( thanks so much for waiting on me. i really do appreciate it. )
As the stranger moved to take his seat, Lewis sank back into his own. He could feel tension pull at his muscles, an instinctive behavior he couldn't quite avoid. As much as wanted to or should, he couldn't bring himself to sit more attentive or be more prepared. His body was already too exhausted to attempt anything more than a tired slouch. Instead, he fell into the rotted cushions without much bother and trained his eyes back on the fire, occasionally peering past it to the man on the other side.
Shaking his canteen, he listened to the small, empty slosh it made and downed the last sip. He was in dire need of resources, so much so it might worry any other more well-to-do person, but he merely shrugged it off as he tightened the cap to his canteen and set it aside. He'd too many worries resting atop his shoulders, too many enemies chasing at his heals to properly think of them individually. No, it was more so just one giant ball of looming danger that threatened to consume him if he didn't move too fast and, right now, he was doing anything but. More than anything, he wanted just one night of undisturbed peace. The hunger gnawing away at his stomach and the pack he had hot on his trail, they were all shadows compared to this overwhelming pull he had. Every step he took forward was like two more back. He felt tired and nothing more.
Tilting his head into his hand, he shifted once in his chair, wincing at the stiffness in his joints. Fortunately, this stranger didn't seem to want much from him. Not conversation or food, just the warmth from his fire. Lewis could praise whatever figure hung overhead to the stars and back. He'd the gift of company without the hassle of any real interaction. Sure, the man might be dangerous but what person wasn't anymore? Everyone had done something to get this far and everything was dangerous in one aspect or another. He'd take whatever this was for exactly what it was and nothing more. He'd an extra pair of eyes tonight and that was plenty to feel grateful for.
Securing his scarf back around his face, he pulled up his hood and tilted his head back, almost shutting his eyes as he glared into a darkening and very murky abyss. As the stranger spoke, uttering only a word, he took a second to process even that. "Lewis," he answered. "Yourself?" To be honest, he hadn't really done much observing. He knew next to nothing of this stranger, his figure half obscured by the flame and night sky.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Apr 7, 2017 23:30:02 GMT -5
alfred(It's almost midnight where I am, and I'm too tired to get up a good, multi-paragraph reply. I'll have one when I've slept though, probably late tomorrow though because I have a busy day x3)
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Post by alfred on Apr 7, 2017 23:34:14 GMT -5
Smokey Feather ( that's totally fine! and, please, you don't have to worry about length. let it be what it wants to be. cx )
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Post by Smokey Feather on Apr 7, 2017 23:40:15 GMT -5
alfred(I want to keep it at least two good paragraphs though :'3 I'm so tired rn I can barely get past four sentences of rp ;_;)
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Post by alfred on Apr 7, 2017 23:44:48 GMT -5
Smokey Feather . ( i get it. c; just leave it be and get back to it when you can. i'm down visiting family so i'm fairly busy myself. all's good. )
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Post by Smokey Feather on Apr 9, 2017 17:30:47 GMT -5
alfredFor a few seconds, Jerry didn't reply, too focused on his Care Bear, having a quiet conversation with it as he hugged it to his cold body. Once he seemed to process the answer given and question asked, he blinked once and turned his head. For a moment, he looked completely lost as the gears turned in his slowing brain. Name... name... did he have one? What was it? A long moment passed before he suddenly remembered, answering as he blinked again "Jeremiah. Or Jerry..." He trailed off into a quiet moment again, seeing fit in saying nothing more. Going back to enjoying the warmth of fire, he went quiet again. He didn't seem to show interest in the other man, but that didn't mean he wasn't curious. It was just that his brain, from lack of interaction with real people, had problems forming speech that was beyond a few sentences. As he went about his own business, which consisted of remaining relatively still and quiet, Jerry found himself listening out again, but not for anything Lewis would answer really. Only the sounds of just about everything else. There were ferals nearby. He could smell, and barely hear them. Yet, both men would be alright if they didn't go screaming about and shining lights everywhere. Survival meant quiet and patience these days. You needed both to stay alive. Anyone who didn't would get killed by another merciless person, if not the monsters lurking about day and night. The idea made Jerry smile, knowing he was both. Both a monster and a merciless human. Yet, he wouldn't be both for long. Eventually he'd just be another feral, ready to tear you to pieces and not give a sh*t during or after he did. Head tilted upward to the dark sky, he just stared. What he was staring at, he wasn't sure. Probably just anything before his eyesight gave out or something. Who knew what freak conditions could blossom from the radiation, aside from known reactions passed between survivors during a time when there were still people who didn't try to kill you. Now, all those people were either dead, or hidden so well from everyone else. Too afraid to approach anyone they don't know, with fear of getting no less than seriously injured during the encounter. Except for Lewis, so far. One of those rarities who was seemingly still humane. Such a shame he was in danger of being murdered by Jerry. Not that the infected man wanted to add another kill under his belt. He never, ever did. Well, not while his clock was counting down. While he was sane. That calm time slot always seemed to grow shorter and shorter though, and he hated it. Yet, he didn't cut his life short. The voices in his head, and his Care Bear, always told him never to do that. That that was worse. And he never questioned why, unfortunately. A soft sigh escaped his lips, barely audible through the near useless protection he had about him. Shifting position, he rested his leg out in front of him, almost purring at the relief it gave. There was still problems though, or lack of (he could still move it and walk, but he could barely feel it.) And of course it was spreading. The radiation always did. No immunities, no medical help to even slow it down. Just the time to wait until you changed into a malevolent soul with intent to kill everything that moved.
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Post by Smokey Feather on May 1, 2017 22:34:30 GMT -5
alfred(What's the word on this? Are you no longer interested or? It's okay if you aren't though. I'd just like to know for sure so I don't keep waiting for a reply that won't come :'3)
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Post by alfred on May 1, 2017 22:37:03 GMT -5
Smokey Feather ( hey! yeah, totally not cool of me. i'm so sorry. i'd love to continue this but haven't got the muse for it just this instant. i'll be back but, for now, do you mind a temporary hiatus? )
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Post by Smokey Feather on May 1, 2017 22:39:44 GMT -5
alfred(That's alright, and of course we can put this on hiatus for now. We all have low muse at points, but I look forward to when you'll be able to rp here again. I've quite enjoyed your posts so far, so of course I'm still interested in this :3)
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Post by alfred on May 1, 2017 22:44:25 GMT -5
Smokey Feather { thanks so much. ^^ i really appreciate it. i've quite enjoyed this too. i love the idea and your rp style is fantastic. i've got plenty of interest, just not a ton of muse to write on a lot of things. this week is final's week in college. afterwards i've summer break and i should have plenty of time to rp then. i'll definitely shoot you a reply when i get back to otrp. )
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Post by Smokey Feather on May 2, 2017 2:19:25 GMT -5
alfred(Sounds like a plan, and I hope finals go well for you! :3)
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Post by Smokey Feather on May 26, 2017 6:21:23 GMT -5
alfred(Hello hello :'3 I know you said you'd be back around during your summer break, but I'm just checking in to see if that's still going to hold up?)
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Post by alfred on May 28, 2017 15:25:57 GMT -5
Smokey Feather (( yo, smokey!! yes! i'm on break and currently trying to get back into the swing of things. i've work and that's been keeping me kind of busy but if you don't mind some inactivity, i'd love to continue this. i haven't got much muse of late and i'm a little sick but, if you can wait, i'll have a reply up sometime either tomorrow or monday.
also, i want to give you a huge thank you for being so patient. not a lot of people would check in like this and i really do appreciate your time. ))
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Post by Smokey Feather on May 28, 2017 15:33:37 GMT -5
alfred(I'm not in a lot of rps, so I have lots of time to wait :'3 If you're not at your best, go ahead and take your time X3 My summer break starts soon, so l have even not time to wait. And you're welcome :3 I really like this rp, so I say it's worth the waiting!)
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Post by Smokey Feather on Jun 5, 2017 18:27:54 GMT -5
(*lurks behind nearby bush*)
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Post by alfred on Jun 5, 2017 19:20:59 GMT -5
(( //buries self in sand// this is my home now. i am dirt. i've got dinner, a form to work on, and a job to wake early for but i swear -- I SWEAR i'll get a reply up tomorrow. ))
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Post by Smokey Feather on Jun 5, 2017 19:39:07 GMT -5
(*builds a sand castle on top of Alfred*)
(Alrighty :'3 I look forward to your reply, whenever it comes in)
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Post by alfred on Jun 8, 2017 21:42:33 GMT -5
Smokey Feather (( did you want to skip soon to the morning? ))
The fire beamed in the dwindling light, a beacon to any passing stranger that they were sitting alone and in the open, ripe for the picking and vulnerable. Sitting up in his chair, Lewis kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot, digging a shallow hole into the ground. Shuffling a portion of the disturbed dirt over the fire, he watched the flames subside a little before laying back again. The heat was still strong and slightly unbearable but the fire was small enough to feel safe -- or safer, at least. He'd enough left in him to appreciate that.
Sniffling, Lewis fidgeted with his scarf, placing his hand over his mouth and breathing in deeply. The fabric was soft against his lips, dirty from use but worn in a comfortable way. It wasn't nearly as great of a filter as he might need, the air's toxins leeching in and blackening his lungs by the second, but it was something. You were lucky to find anything better nowadays. Gas masks and hazmat suits were luxuries that'd get you killed anymore. In fact, they were more of a threat than asset, dangerous beyond belief. Even the homemade sort with plastic bottles and paper towels brought more death than actual good. They gave you attention when you needed hiding. He couldn't count the number of times he'd spied someone who'd believed they'd a one up in this inhospitable world torn down by someone more desperate and more deadly. Hell, he himself had been that person before. He'd killed for a sturdy pair of boots, maimed someone for challenging his direction, and -- as much as he had trouble admitting so -- he'd never regret it. He was still here because of those actions, alive and walking.
With the fire low, he could just see past it to his friend Jerry on the other side. The man sat in an almost defeated fashion, slouched into the dirt and surrounded by trampled grass. He was fixated on a stuffed toy of some sort, a bear Lewis had faint recollection of, but Lewis didn't really think anything of it. A grown man playing with children's things, he'd seen and heard of habits more odd-- doings that curdled blood and made you cold. Hell, he'd habits of his own some might find off. The fact that he'd play an out of tune piano just fine and sing horribly to himself or that he could sit for hours on end in front of a darkened television screen and laugh. No, he wouldn't be so quick to judge Jerry. Let the man have this one comfort free of scrutiny.
Inhaling, Lewis let the air out in a long sigh and yawned. Falling deeper into his chair, every joint relaxing and thought passing, he felt his eyes flutter and shut.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Jun 8, 2017 21:50:47 GMT -5
(Sure. I'll include it in my reply?)
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Post by alfred on Jun 8, 2017 21:54:55 GMT -5
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Post by Smokey Feather on Jun 8, 2017 22:02:02 GMT -5
(Alright. I'll get a reply up tomorrow, because you caught me late at night, when I'm too tired to type up a reply that's more than five sentences :'3)
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Post by Smokey Feather on Jun 9, 2017 10:41:23 GMT -5
alfred As both Lewis and the fire began to slow, Jerry would glance at the other man every now and then. Gears turned in his head, trying to figure out what to do. Should he sleep too, and get even a little rest? What if the other man tried to kill him in his sleep? Maybe Jerry should kill him first? As appealing as the idea was, to pull yet another victim apart and chew on the still warm remains, the infected individual decided against it. That little ounce of human still in him was telling him to leave Lewis, who'd done nothing to him yet, alone. Sometimes, though it became increasingly rare as his body deteriorated and his mind slowed, he still liked to call himself humane. That he still had some sense of mercy in such a cruel, savage world. It would soon become entirely untrue though, and Jerry sighed at the depressing truth. There was no stopping it though, so he should probably just accept and embrace it. Settling down in the soft grass, he moved so he was once again staring up at the sky, his bear hugged to him for whatever warmth or comfort. As he began to slow down, becoming tired, he took a moment to remove his bandana from his face and breathe deeply, taking in yet more toxic air. At that point, so degraded and weak to it, the air felt like a relieving drug. Made him feel at ease and relaxed as it poisoned his entire body. A smile graced his lips before he set the bandana back in place. If anyone saw anyone without some kind of protection, they'd get killed. If a man using even just a napkin to protect his airways was walking next to a man with nothing, the man with nothing would get slaughtered even if he wasn't infected. The images of that man getting shot, torn to pieces and more is what Jerry finally fell asleep to, eyes closing and breathing slowing even more. When he woke up, it was with a slight snort and bent brows. Opening his eyes, he looked around. What was going on? Where the hell was he? Sitting up quickly, he hissed as his brain swished around to cause headaches. Holding the side of his head, he looked around with narrowed eyes. Seeing Lewis, he was silent. Who was that? Wait... oh yes. He was the man who shared his fire, no intent to fight or take from him. Releasing a heavy exhale through his nose, he glanced around. They were still alive, yet the fact wasn't all that relaxing. Death at this point for Jerry sounded absolutely lovely. He didn't care where he went after, as long as he didn't have to keep living as a turning, soon-to-be feral. Taking another glance around, he noticed it was still dark out, but had that early morning feel. After another brief glance at Lewis, he moved to start collecting what he'd taken from his pack. Best that they parted ways soon as possible. People who traveled in numbers more than one were more likely to get killed. Bigger numbers meant more valuables, which attracted all the danger that saw you.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Jul 8, 2017 13:23:02 GMT -5
alfred(Hi :3 I'm checking in again, but I think I'm finally going to give a warning on if it'll be the last time or not. I really do like this rp, and said it was worth waiting for, but there's only been eight rp posts in the span of March to July. That much waiting does get to me a little. It does make me sad, but this will be the last time I ask if this is to be continued.)
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