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Realistic or Modern Hello? Is anyone out there? [Closed Group]
BELIAL.
wanna bewitch you in the moonlight
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[/div][div class=statusText]Location: Holiday Inn Ballroom, Atlanta Quarantine
Interaction: Matthew
Tags:
dmgink
[/div][/div][div class=title]Fiona Grace Furlow[/div][div class=text]Georgia heat was unbearable. Always had been, and always would be. Even if it felt like civilization was falling apart at the seams, that damned Georgia heat would remain. Fiona wasn't sure what to think of that fact, or of either really. She could handle the world ending, but god she couldn't handle the humidity. At least autumn and winter existed to quench that heat for some time, like a ladle of ice water down a sweating gullet. It was the November night now that she was most thankful for, and the supple breeze it sang between her strands of hair and bare patches of skin.
The quarantine was a life savor, literally, to the wanderer. It had been a sheer stroke of luck, and good faith, that had gotten her within the barricades. In tow she brought her cousin, a person she held just as dearly as her own life. Matt had been alone, and Fiona was thankful to have found him-- even if it was without his band-mates. When they had finally gained entrance, her chest had exploded into a painful chasm of aching fear; bleeding out through her eyes. The tears she had shed that first day were many, and she probably looked like a fussy toddler. She hadn't been able to help the anxiety from peaking within, but juggling the grief from abandoning her mother and having nearly begged on hands and knees to reach seclusion from the wave of illness overtaking the nation had managed to sap all of her strength right out. Finding any comfort or relaxation in the depressive swing she was in was sparse in number, but the first friend she had sort of met that first night was one that she had been determined to latch onto. Arthur, though they'd hardly been more than just strangers standing next to each other. Shaking and staring holes into the spaces between her fingers, she had asked him sheepishly for a cigarette. It had been a nice moment, and opened the path for a few other positive interactions within the quarantine. A few friends, or acquaintances at that. Fiona wasn't sure what friends really were anymore.
She was one of many who were disgruntled with how things were currently operated within the quarantine. She wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but every day there was less communication from the people running the show. Food supplies were low and the rumours were left unchecked, leaving a sour taste in everyone's mouth. Had the government really fallen? Was there no hope out there? Fiona wasn't one to embrace the pessimistic view, but it felt like the end of days now. The horizon was clouded, amid grief and fear from a blindsided population.
Things kept her going, however, and kept her spirit alive. Matt was one of them, as problematic as he could be. She loved the man dearly, and though not related by blood she treated him like a little brother. She had an urge to protect him, and had always felt like so. With familial gossip about the kind of things that Matt was getting into, Fiona turned a blindside to it. She knew that he had a drug problem, but she was damned to let it dampen her affection. She had no pity for Matt, and no anger either. All she felt was that urge to protect, even if it was the last thing she would do. There was little else to live for these days, aside from oneself. Family and loved ones were all most people had, especially if the government truly had fallen.
They walked now, glimpsing at the setting sun behind some of the taller buildings in the quarantine. She had her hands balled in her pockets, fighting the urge to start picking her nails or to fidget unceremoniously. She was worried what the quarantine leaders would talk about. Jensen Arefolt and Heather Gambin were the proclaimed heads of the district here, though they had a small 'cabinet' of advisers and supporters within the population. Heather was young, and Fiona was sure that she had gone to university with her. Maybe Heather had graduated before her? Somewhere else she was sure to have seen the woman. In spite of so, Fiona had her doubts about the leadership presented. She was young herself, and it began to set waves of panic thinking about herself in Heather's shoes. Fiona, still, was disappointed at the secrecy. Wasn't transparency important to keeping any kind of large group of people working together?
She shook her head, looking over at Matt. Fiona, nitpicky, fussed with hair that had fallen in front of his face. Long hair, longer than hers. They shared a similar shade of blonde, and could truly be misinterpreted as blood relatives. "You'd think with society crumbling around us you'd get a haircut or something. It doesn't cost anything anymore, you know that right? I don't think a single barber would charge you for it, especially if you get me to do it." She smiled with wide, humorous teeth. Stuffing her hand back into her pocket, she mused out-loud about the meeting.
"I hope they do something about the food, and the rumors. It's bullshit, all the secrecy. People just want the truth... it can scare us, and you know it really scares me, but don't they think we'd want to know?" She scoffed out loud, looking up at the sky. "I mean, god, I don't know what I mean. I hope to god there's some reason for anything happening these days..." Her mind drifted to her mother, reaching out with crazed eyes and a feverish spit to her lips. Her red, raw fingers stretching out toward Fiona's face. The low moan, deep in her throat as she begged her daughter to stay. Then, two seconds later, began to babble and rage like a deluded animal. Is there a reason for that?
"Nevermind," she muttered, shaking her head as they entered the Holiday Inn and walked toward the ballroom.
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[/div][div class=statusText]Location: Holiday Inn Ballroom, Atlanta Quarantine
Interaction: Matthew
Tags:
dmgink
[/div][/div][div class=title]Fiona Grace Furlow[/div][div class=text]Georgia heat was unbearable. Always had been, and always would be. Even if it felt like civilization was falling apart at the seams, that damned Georgia heat would remain. Fiona wasn't sure what to think of that fact, or of either really. She could handle the world ending, but god she couldn't handle the humidity. At least autumn and winter existed to quench that heat for some time, like a ladle of ice water down a sweating gullet. It was the November night now that she was most thankful for, and the supple breeze it sang between her strands of hair and bare patches of skin.The quarantine was a life savor, literally, to the wanderer. It had been a sheer stroke of luck, and good faith, that had gotten her within the barricades. In tow she brought her cousin, a person she held just as dearly as her own life. Matt had been alone, and Fiona was thankful to have found him-- even if it was without his band-mates. When they had finally gained entrance, her chest had exploded into a painful chasm of aching fear; bleeding out through her eyes. The tears she had shed that first day were many, and she probably looked like a fussy toddler. She hadn't been able to help the anxiety from peaking within, but juggling the grief from abandoning her mother and having nearly begged on hands and knees to reach seclusion from the wave of illness overtaking the nation had managed to sap all of her strength right out. Finding any comfort or relaxation in the depressive swing she was in was sparse in number, but the first friend she had sort of met that first night was one that she had been determined to latch onto. Arthur, though they'd hardly been more than just strangers standing next to each other. Shaking and staring holes into the spaces between her fingers, she had asked him sheepishly for a cigarette. It had been a nice moment, and opened the path for a few other positive interactions within the quarantine. A few friends, or acquaintances at that. Fiona wasn't sure what friends really were anymore.
She was one of many who were disgruntled with how things were currently operated within the quarantine. She wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but every day there was less communication from the people running the show. Food supplies were low and the rumours were left unchecked, leaving a sour taste in everyone's mouth. Had the government really fallen? Was there no hope out there? Fiona wasn't one to embrace the pessimistic view, but it felt like the end of days now. The horizon was clouded, amid grief and fear from a blindsided population.
Things kept her going, however, and kept her spirit alive. Matt was one of them, as problematic as he could be. She loved the man dearly, and though not related by blood she treated him like a little brother. She had an urge to protect him, and had always felt like so. With familial gossip about the kind of things that Matt was getting into, Fiona turned a blindside to it. She knew that he had a drug problem, but she was damned to let it dampen her affection. She had no pity for Matt, and no anger either. All she felt was that urge to protect, even if it was the last thing she would do. There was little else to live for these days, aside from oneself. Family and loved ones were all most people had, especially if the government truly had fallen.
They walked now, glimpsing at the setting sun behind some of the taller buildings in the quarantine. She had her hands balled in her pockets, fighting the urge to start picking her nails or to fidget unceremoniously. She was worried what the quarantine leaders would talk about. Jensen Arefolt and Heather Gambin were the proclaimed heads of the district here, though they had a small 'cabinet' of advisers and supporters within the population. Heather was young, and Fiona was sure that she had gone to university with her. Maybe Heather had graduated before her? Somewhere else she was sure to have seen the woman. In spite of so, Fiona had her doubts about the leadership presented. She was young herself, and it began to set waves of panic thinking about herself in Heather's shoes. Fiona, still, was disappointed at the secrecy. Wasn't transparency important to keeping any kind of large group of people working together?
She shook her head, looking over at Matt. Fiona, nitpicky, fussed with hair that had fallen in front of his face. Long hair, longer than hers. They shared a similar shade of blonde, and could truly be misinterpreted as blood relatives. "You'd think with society crumbling around us you'd get a haircut or something. It doesn't cost anything anymore, you know that right? I don't think a single barber would charge you for it, especially if you get me to do it." She smiled with wide, humorous teeth. Stuffing her hand back into her pocket, she mused out-loud about the meeting.
"I hope they do something about the food, and the rumors. It's bullshit, all the secrecy. People just want the truth... it can scare us, and you know it really scares me, but don't they think we'd want to know?" She scoffed out loud, looking up at the sky. "I mean, god, I don't know what I mean. I hope to god there's some reason for anything happening these days..." Her mind drifted to her mother, reaching out with crazed eyes and a feverish spit to her lips. Her red, raw fingers stretching out toward Fiona's face. The low moan, deep in her throat as she begged her daughter to stay. Then, two seconds later, began to babble and rage like a deluded animal. Is there a reason for that?
"Nevermind," she muttered, shaking her head as they entered the Holiday Inn and walked toward the ballroom.
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dmgink
Junior Member
Matthew Dyer
Matthew Dyer was nobody special in the new world of the quarantine. He was only remarkable by his long, wavy and unkept blondish hair and his odd behaviour around the camp. He was friendly enough at a distance, but actually talking to the young man was another story. He switched between a few alternatives; being hyperactive and fully aware, to being passed out for sometimes hours on end, to being so irritable that he just wanted everyone to leave him alone. All three of these states had their problems, of course. The twenty-two year old was far from a functional being at this point. Even more so than he had been before when he was blowing hundreds of dollars a week up his nose and into his arms.
He was often up at late hours of the night playing cards, though he wasn't very good at them and couldn't keep a good poker face to save his life. Matthew would likely never see a championship title - whatever that meant in the end times - for his efforts, though, that was okay with him for the most part. He was never one to strive for a win, or strive for the attention- he had been a drummer before all of this, after all. Always sat in the back of the stage where his main duty was to keep the others in time. He was a supporter more than a leader. He still carried a remnant from those fast lane rock n' roll, heavy metal days- his trusty, but splintered sticks from the last show the young man ever played.
Matthew was only in quarantine for one reason: his cousin, Fiona, who came and picked him up once he got the news that the rest of his tour had been cancelled. The rest of his band mates were more hopeful, however, and assumed that the outbreak would come to pass. They split ways with him, leaving him completely alone. He would be dead if not for Fiona, though it was something he would likely never say out loud. If not for her, he would be completely by his lonesome, probably living only off of illicit drugs and air. Well, he sort of did that now, but at least he wasn't alone all the time. Where the other four band members ended up now was a mystery. They were likely dead, by now, though. It very easily could've been Matthew who lost his life. It wasn't, but the guilt of what could have been and what was weighed heavily on him. It kept him up at night. He never would admit that either. He only got a proper night's sleep through blacking out for hours on end.
Tonight would be different, however. Instead of going to play cards, Matthew was going to see what this meeting was about. He decided to forego his usual nightly rituals, putting on his signature leather jacket that was somewhat worn by now. He didn't want to advertise anything to anyone else. The only one here who knew, to his knowledge, was his cousin, and he would like to keep it that way. He would suffer for a little while if it meant rewarding himself for it later. He held his sides, his body already starting to act up with intense craving. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about the leaders, himself, but he leaned towards skepticism against the people in charge. They never communicated to the civilians, as far as he was aware. He hated that.
"Well, maybe I'll cut it eventually, but no promises." Matthew said, rolling his eyes and giving a slight grin. His longer hair was a common gripe within the family, amongst other things. The only ones who seemed to fully accept who he was without judgment were his cousin and his late brother, Christopher, who quite honestly was the one with his life the most together of the two brothers. Even after a horrific car accident left him fucked up for months, he was still on the straightened arrow. Well, was. When the disease hit California, he was swept away with it..
There wasn't any time to ponder that possibility now, in Matthew's mind. He had to stay focussed on what was at hand.
The blonde tried hard to hide his shakes as they continued walking along to the Holiday Inn. He couldn't be passing out or talking incessantly at the meeting- so here he was. He hadn't dosed up in maybe twelveish hours at this point; just long enough for the last needle mark to scab over. It itched like hell. So did all the others. He had a horrible habit of picking at them when he was on his own and they were exposed. He would just have to hold off for now. Fighting impulses was a bitch, and Matthew hated her. Restraint was not something the young man often practiced.
He decided to listen to Fiona's small tangent, staying silent until she finished.
"I hope they fess up to whatever the hell they're hiding." his voice is tired and somewhat aggressive, but he means what he says. "Because they're hiding something from us. I can feel it. It's probably just us at this point. There's nobody out there, I don't think."
Unlike his cousin, Matthew was definitely one for paranoia and pessimism. He immediately scanned the room as they walked in, looking around at the group beginning to gather. They seemed early and safe enough, but he wanted to know where his exits were. One could never be too cautious. He packed his knife, hidden away in his pocket, like he always did; something he was extremely insistent on. He held his hands in his pockets, one tightly wrapping around the little knife. His blue eyes took everything in; it was a welcome distraction from the nausea and the horrific cravings he felt.
God, he hoped this meeting went by quickly.
INTERACTIONS: Fiona
BELIAL.
idalie
ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ʙᴀʙʏʟᴏɴ
Arthur & Edward Peterson
Arthur had never considered himself to be any better than those around him, contrary to those who praised him. Nothing more than some ordinary country boy without a qualification to his name, in over his head when it came to anything but practicalities. His momma used to say a heart of gold was worth more than any degree, a fact he recited to his son. Ain’t nobody in the human race was perfect, perhaps it was that which made a single father feel better about his stakes in life. All the lumberjack had ever worked for was a good future, surrounded by people he loved - only now they were dead and he’d been spinning lies upon lies to his poor boy. He loved Edward, more than any damn thing in the world but it was a tricky web to weave, telling him Grandma was at home safe, his cousins had escaped to DC, and the army would be rolling in any day now. Patience has never been a child’s strong suit and neither has focus, so for each twisted tale, Ed would forget sooner or later and treat it like some long camping trip.
What worried Art the most was the fact Edward had withdrawn since Bloody Tuesday. Before all that, Eddy had played with the other kids around camp. Sure as hell enough of them to form groups and a small class, taught by the young Miss Davis. That teacher was a pure lifeline when you needed an hour to yourself. Still, the date was fresh in memory and Ed realised that those missing seats in the makeshift classroom, empty sleeping bags, lonely lunchtimes - ain’t nobody of the ones they lost would come back.
Part of the confused kid wondered if they’d gone where his own momma had. Not heaven but - away. Just somewhere. He didn’t know any better.
Since he’d arrived in quarantine, Arthur had been one of those personalities people took a liking to. A handyman when needed, shoulder to cry on, open and easygoing. The weight of it on his shoulders felt more and more, others were feeling the strain too. He and Dr Singh had formed an unlikely bond through this imposed form of leadership, two men who would’ve likely never crossed paths if it hadn’t been for the world falling apart.
Arefolt and Gambin were the head honchos here. Together they had taken it upon themselves to confront the quarantine. Food supplies were getting scarcer by the day, rations were dropping in portion and sooner or later Arthur wouldn’t have enough to feed himself - let alone a growing boy. Likewise, concerns were reflected over the camp. After five months of radio silence, no sign of rescue or return to order, the flames in the distance which engulfed apartment buildings; it was too much of a worry that people could simply ignore the fear in their gut.
Arthur understood the reasoning behind the military keeping their mouths shut, but sooner or later something would have to be said. They were only prompting that conversation earlier than expected. He sat Edward in the lobby of the Holiday Inn, handed him a magazine and promised it wouldn't take long. A filthy kid by all accounts holding a small jar of what seemed like a collection of caterpillars nestled amongst some filler. They’d grow into some fine butterflies his pa had said and he was sure they would hatch nicely if he kept them warm and fed. Ed had even been scouring for books on them, interviewing adults who knew a thing or two about insects.
Fiona and Matthew wandered in, heading to the ballroom for the meeting whilst Edward swung his legs in boredom and gave the fellow survivors a wave - grinning openly. He was missing his front teeth which only made it more comical of the gappy fella. He’d seen the two of them about together, knew that his dad talked to the pair intermittently enough to be considered safe. Not like some of the guys around that simply had a real mean-look in the eyes.
Nothing had been right since leaving home, that was the one thing a kid like him could grasp. His daddy wouldn’t let him close to the sick, no matter if it was just a common cold. No longer allowed to mess about freely or wander too far. No film nights, no soft mattress. Instead of books with pictures, Arthur started having to recite from memory but thankfully was gifted a hardcopy of Wind in the Willows they’d been getting through step by step. Ed thought that if they had to be anywhere, he'd rather be on the river with Moley and Ratty rather than this cold, concrete place. Nothing much to look for unless he dug into the old flower boxes and abandoned gardens.
For Edward, this adventure was turning into a limbo, purgatory that was missing a sense of comfort
Interactions:
BELIAL.
dmgink
Mentioned:
Seabourne
Colorless Spectrum
nevermind.
PolikShadowbliss
Last edited:
PolikShadowbliss
Raptor Shapeshifter
RIP Melvin - local dog lover and vet.
Anna starred at the dirtgrave, at the vivid reminder of of how short and impersonal life has became. She didn’t know who Melvin was, nor did anyone else. But he had been a person so they had dug him a grave like all the rest.
“At least he wasn’t infected. They don’t bury the infected.” She muttered to herself as she walked back to the the quarantine.
The truth was, and she didn’t like to admit it but she didn’t remember Bloody Tuesday. Not a single thing about Bloody Tuesday. It was like something just blocked it all out. She didn’t remember.
Eventually she found herself back into the thrall s of civilization. She saw the faces of strangers, but some strangers were more familiar. A young blonde beautiful woman playing with with a man’s hair, talking to him. Then there was the large lumberjack with his kid. Everyone took a liking to him, maybe it was a natural charisma to him. Unlike her. People avoided her like the plague. It didn’t help that she always carried around a bat. A “red” bat. At least half red. At least to the kids. The adults were too smart. They knew what the red meant. It wasn’t paint. It was blood. Dry blood. Blood that she hadn’t bothered or simply didn’t know was there.
Nervously she walked down to the woman (Fiona) and the man (Matt), and said, trying to keep her voice steady, even though she was sitting next to someone she liked.
“Anyone of you guys know a man by the name of Melvin??”
Mentions:
idalie
Interaction:
BELIAL.
dmgink
Anna starred at the dirtgrave, at the vivid reminder of of how short and impersonal life has became. She didn’t know who Melvin was, nor did anyone else. But he had been a person so they had dug him a grave like all the rest.
“At least he wasn’t infected. They don’t bury the infected.” She muttered to herself as she walked back to the the quarantine.
The truth was, and she didn’t like to admit it but she didn’t remember Bloody Tuesday. Not a single thing about Bloody Tuesday. It was like something just blocked it all out. She didn’t remember.
Eventually she found herself back into the thrall s of civilization. She saw the faces of strangers, but some strangers were more familiar. A young blonde beautiful woman playing with with a man’s hair, talking to him. Then there was the large lumberjack with his kid. Everyone took a liking to him, maybe it was a natural charisma to him. Unlike her. People avoided her like the plague. It didn’t help that she always carried around a bat. A “red” bat. At least half red. At least to the kids. The adults were too smart. They knew what the red meant. It wasn’t paint. It was blood. Dry blood. Blood that she hadn’t bothered or simply didn’t know was there.
Nervously she walked down to the woman (Fiona) and the man (Matt), and said, trying to keep her voice steady, even though she was sitting next to someone she liked.
“Anyone of you guys know a man by the name of Melvin??”
Mentions:
idalie
Interaction:
BELIAL.
dmgink
Seabourne
Certified Idiot
Sarah Davis
It felt like a long time since things began. The news had consumed her at first, as more and more stories surfaced. The symptoms hadn't seemed terrible, but the speed at which the virus spread reminded her all to much of some of the most fatal diseases in history. Psychosis, violence, and irrationality plagued the communities that the virus claimed. Sadie couldn't let herself chalk it up to coincidence. The first seeds of paranoia were planted in her then. Homocides and riots drove her to lock herself inside her home, not only to escape infection, but also the wrath of the infected. The quarantine seemed like a sanctuary, offering safety from the virus.
For a couple months she was happy, pretending that the virus didn't exist anymore. She almost believed it sometimes. Inside the confines of the quarantine the outside world was cut away and discarded; Atlanta became the new world. After Bloody Tuesday, she could no longer let herself ignore the virus. Everybody changed that day. Trust within the community tanked, and trust in the Army fell further. Adults bickered and became wary of each other. The children grew quiet, but most bounced back soon enough. She cared for them just the same as always, except for the new bolt locks on the door and the spiked bat under her desk.
Food supply had also taken a hit since Bloody Tuesday, and the slim rations had taken weight off everyone. Sadie hated to see the way the hollow-cheeked children shuffle about, lacking in their usual energy. She'd also thinned out considerably, growing bony and angular. Hunger tore at her stomach, never full enough from her scant meals. Half-convinced that the Army was slowly starving them to death purposely, she'd taken great interest in the meeting she'd heard was to be held in the old hotel. Equal to her curiosity was her reluctancy to attend. Fearing a riot or a massacre, she took great care in weighing her options. In the end, she decided to go.
That was how she found herself in the ballroom, pressed back against the far wall near the door. She hadn't brought her weapon, assuming they wouldn't be allowed in the building, and hers was far too large to be concealed. Glancing about, she took in as much as she could. A handful of people milled about the ballroom already. Dirt clung to their faces and clothing. Most looked apprehensive, waiting for the Army to feed them the usual lies of hope and salvation.
She chewed at her lip, worrying the delicate skin between her teeth until it broke. She'd always been terrible at dealing with her nerves, and picked up the habit long ago. The taste of iron called her attention to the new split in her lip, and she stopped, furrowing her brow. Tapping her foot, she waited patiently for something to happen.
It felt like a long time since things began. The news had consumed her at first, as more and more stories surfaced. The symptoms hadn't seemed terrible, but the speed at which the virus spread reminded her all to much of some of the most fatal diseases in history. Psychosis, violence, and irrationality plagued the communities that the virus claimed. Sadie couldn't let herself chalk it up to coincidence. The first seeds of paranoia were planted in her then. Homocides and riots drove her to lock herself inside her home, not only to escape infection, but also the wrath of the infected. The quarantine seemed like a sanctuary, offering safety from the virus.
For a couple months she was happy, pretending that the virus didn't exist anymore. She almost believed it sometimes. Inside the confines of the quarantine the outside world was cut away and discarded; Atlanta became the new world. After Bloody Tuesday, she could no longer let herself ignore the virus. Everybody changed that day. Trust within the community tanked, and trust in the Army fell further. Adults bickered and became wary of each other. The children grew quiet, but most bounced back soon enough. She cared for them just the same as always, except for the new bolt locks on the door and the spiked bat under her desk.
Food supply had also taken a hit since Bloody Tuesday, and the slim rations had taken weight off everyone. Sadie hated to see the way the hollow-cheeked children shuffle about, lacking in their usual energy. She'd also thinned out considerably, growing bony and angular. Hunger tore at her stomach, never full enough from her scant meals. Half-convinced that the Army was slowly starving them to death purposely, she'd taken great interest in the meeting she'd heard was to be held in the old hotel. Equal to her curiosity was her reluctancy to attend. Fearing a riot or a massacre, she took great care in weighing her options. In the end, she decided to go.
That was how she found herself in the ballroom, pressed back against the far wall near the door. She hadn't brought her weapon, assuming they wouldn't be allowed in the building, and hers was far too large to be concealed. Glancing about, she took in as much as she could. A handful of people milled about the ballroom already. Dirt clung to their faces and clothing. Most looked apprehensive, waiting for the Army to feed them the usual lies of hope and salvation.
She chewed at her lip, worrying the delicate skin between her teeth until it broke. She'd always been terrible at dealing with her nerves, and picked up the habit long ago. The taste of iron called her attention to the new split in her lip, and she stopped, furrowing her brow. Tapping her foot, she waited patiently for something to happen.
Colorless Spectrum
Always Blue
Erika Jimena Aguilar
Life has been chaos since the outbreak. She didn't believe it at first but she experienced the virus' effect first hand. She'd seen how someone would become when infected and it was a nightmare for her. Lieutenant General Mason, a good friend of her father, had taken her with him to the quarantine in Atlanta. Most of her time she was at the clinic helping out Dr. Singh whenever the med bay has too many patient for the limited medical personnel. Every now and then she also is tasked to make rounds and guard specific areas since she is a combat medic. Once in a while she'd help in cooking meals with the local mothers. That is pretty much her everyday life in the quarantine before Bloody Tuesday.
Now everyone is tensed. Military personnel had become more cautious, stricter. Medicine has also gone down a considerable amount, same with food. Keeping it a secret isn't making anything better as people are becoming more suspicious everyday that passes. Erika barely eats anymore, she mostly give her food the the kids near her, dividing it up however she can so that they can have more to eat. Her eyes are slightly sunken due to more appointed night shifts. It breaks her heart seeing everyone in such a state, especially the people she had grown closer too, not that she hasn't had any demons of her own to deal with.
Her soft spot for children had given her something to bond with the local teacher, Sarah Davis. The brother she never had, Ej. She found Edward to be the sweetest boy she has ever met, and the respect that she has for Arthur, raising Edward and being the man that he is, is just deep. Anna was hard to figure out but she was thankful to Anna for helping her during Bloody Tuesday. As for Matthew, she had interacted with a few times, mostly she turned a blind eye whenever she was guarding the clinic and Matt sneaks in to get his fix. And Fiona, she loved her cousin way too much. Often together wherever they go. Whenever Erika sees the drummer she can't help but also look for another pair of blonde hair. Attraction, it wasn't anything like love at first sight. That was never real anyway. But the combat medic loved seeing the woman smile, hearing her laugh always made her day and she found even the smallest interaction with Fiona maked her giddy on the inside.
Erika blinked, heaving out a sigh as she put on a cap. Despite being the most lenient and likable military personnel, she could feel the wary stares of other people. She made her way to Holiday Inn, passing by Edward and giving the child a small wave back and spotting Saide by the wall the moment she stepped into the ballroom. Matthew, Fiona and Anna was together. "Hey." Erika said to Saide the moment she got near. "How are you holding up?" She asked as she looked around and saw Arthur waiting for more people to come. "It worries me. What would happen after this meeting. People are angry, scared and exhausted. It could lead to another horrible event if they don't get to hear what they want to hear."
idalie
BELIAL.
dmgink
Seabourne
nevermind.
PolikShadowbliss
Life has been chaos since the outbreak. She didn't believe it at first but she experienced the virus' effect first hand. She'd seen how someone would become when infected and it was a nightmare for her. Lieutenant General Mason, a good friend of her father, had taken her with him to the quarantine in Atlanta. Most of her time she was at the clinic helping out Dr. Singh whenever the med bay has too many patient for the limited medical personnel. Every now and then she also is tasked to make rounds and guard specific areas since she is a combat medic. Once in a while she'd help in cooking meals with the local mothers. That is pretty much her everyday life in the quarantine before Bloody Tuesday.
Now everyone is tensed. Military personnel had become more cautious, stricter. Medicine has also gone down a considerable amount, same with food. Keeping it a secret isn't making anything better as people are becoming more suspicious everyday that passes. Erika barely eats anymore, she mostly give her food the the kids near her, dividing it up however she can so that they can have more to eat. Her eyes are slightly sunken due to more appointed night shifts. It breaks her heart seeing everyone in such a state, especially the people she had grown closer too, not that she hasn't had any demons of her own to deal with.
Her soft spot for children had given her something to bond with the local teacher, Sarah Davis. The brother she never had, Ej. She found Edward to be the sweetest boy she has ever met, and the respect that she has for Arthur, raising Edward and being the man that he is, is just deep. Anna was hard to figure out but she was thankful to Anna for helping her during Bloody Tuesday. As for Matthew, she had interacted with a few times, mostly she turned a blind eye whenever she was guarding the clinic and Matt sneaks in to get his fix. And Fiona, she loved her cousin way too much. Often together wherever they go. Whenever Erika sees the drummer she can't help but also look for another pair of blonde hair. Attraction, it wasn't anything like love at first sight. That was never real anyway. But the combat medic loved seeing the woman smile, hearing her laugh always made her day and she found even the smallest interaction with Fiona maked her giddy on the inside.
Erika blinked, heaving out a sigh as she put on a cap. Despite being the most lenient and likable military personnel, she could feel the wary stares of other people. She made her way to Holiday Inn, passing by Edward and giving the child a small wave back and spotting Saide by the wall the moment she stepped into the ballroom. Matthew, Fiona and Anna was together. "Hey." Erika said to Saide the moment she got near. "How are you holding up?" She asked as she looked around and saw Arthur waiting for more people to come. "It worries me. What would happen after this meeting. People are angry, scared and exhausted. It could lead to another horrible event if they don't get to hear what they want to hear."
idalie
BELIAL.
dmgink
Seabourne
nevermind.
PolikShadowbliss
Ejaz Andrews
Ejaz walked through the quarantine's streets
towards the ballroom where everyone was supposed to gather.
The streets were filled with rubble, most windows were destroyed. It served as a bitter reminder of the tragedy that had occured here not long ago.
He'd only been in the quarantine for a little over two weeks now. Sometimes he couldn't help but think that maybe it had been the wrong decision.
Whether it had been a good choice or not, he was stuck here regardless. They'd closed the borders for good shortly after he had arrived. No getting in or out. When he arrived at the quarantine, he'd thought that he'd finally had some luck after everything that had gone wrong on his way there.
Atlanta was the safe haven, the oasis he was trying to reach.
In the end, it was not what he had expected.
The people there were hungry and tired, like the people in refugee camps you'd see in those commercials asking for your donation. The ones that made you feel really bad, but you didn't even have enough money to keep yourself afloat. Before the world went to shit, Ejaz was working multiple jobs and freeloading off of distant friends.
He was resilient, at least he had that.
Living in neighborhoods even the police turned a blind eye to for most of his childhood, then living on the street for a while when his girlfriend broke up with him and those friends finally and rightfully had enough of him.
He was used to getting by, making do, he had street smarts.
Up until now, he didn't let anything affect him too deeply, he preferred not to think about some things too much.
But this? After the events that occured on Tuesday, he was haunted by nightmares almost every night and some nights, when he felt like he couldn't handle all of this, the fear, the uncertainty, he went somewhere secluded to just cry.
He finally reached the former ballroom where the meeting would be held and looked around for familiar faces.
He'd made a couple good acquaintaces here. It came naturally when you lived together in such close quarters and shared the common goal to survive.
Two of those acquaintaces had died on Tuesday night, or "Bloody Tuesday" as people had begun to call it.
One was a sweet old lady, Mrs. Williams. He never even knew her first name.
The other, John, was a father of two, he didn't even get a grave because there was nothing to bury.
Not much was left of him when the semi-automatics had blown him to pieces.
He looked around the hall, the leaders hadn't arrived yet. Then again, not that many people in general had made their way over yet.
He'd come a bit early, but in his defence, there wasn't much to do around here.
He spotted a familiar couple of faces.
Two blondes, he'd seen them around and talked to them quite a bit.
Next to them was a girl he didn't know who seemed to be about his age.
When he first met them he'd thought that the two were siblings, they looked similar enough.
But they were actually cousins, and despite how much they looked alike, their personalities couldn't be any more different.
Fiona was a level headed, calm, nice although a bit reserved woman.
Her cousin Matthew had a good taste in music and was a nice guy, but he acted kind of odd sometimes. Ejaz had a strong suspicion as to why, but he wasn't one to judge.
Despite their differences, the two cousins always sticked together.
Ejaz didn't like to admit it, but he wished he had someone of that sort too, someone to have his back. The person who came closest to that was Erika, who he spotted standing next to Ms. Davis, a teacher who kept all the kids occupied in the mornings.
He'd never talked to her personally, though.
Erika was a part of the military. He found it a bit odd himself that he actually liked her, especially in the light of the military's actions on Bloody Tuesday.
But she was different, not snarky or rude like most of the others, she had a genuinely kind and caring attitude about her and it showed in her actions, too. She'd helped him tremendously when he first arrived.
He made his way towards the two of them and smiled. "Hi. Excited for all of the BS we're going to be fed?", he asked.
He only realised afterwards that even though Erika was used to his occasional sarcasm, despite being a part of the military, Ms. Davis wasn't. He'd spoken without thinking like he often did.
He knew exactly how the evening was going to play out. The 'leaders' were going to ignore the people's concerns as they always did and fob them off with empty promises.
But no, they wouldn't stand by and allow that. Not this time.
Ejaz walked through the quarantine's streets
towards the ballroom where everyone was supposed to gather.
The streets were filled with rubble, most windows were destroyed. It served as a bitter reminder of the tragedy that had occured here not long ago.
He'd only been in the quarantine for a little over two weeks now. Sometimes he couldn't help but think that maybe it had been the wrong decision.
Whether it had been a good choice or not, he was stuck here regardless. They'd closed the borders for good shortly after he had arrived. No getting in or out. When he arrived at the quarantine, he'd thought that he'd finally had some luck after everything that had gone wrong on his way there.
Atlanta was the safe haven, the oasis he was trying to reach.
In the end, it was not what he had expected.
The people there were hungry and tired, like the people in refugee camps you'd see in those commercials asking for your donation. The ones that made you feel really bad, but you didn't even have enough money to keep yourself afloat. Before the world went to shit, Ejaz was working multiple jobs and freeloading off of distant friends.
He was resilient, at least he had that.
Living in neighborhoods even the police turned a blind eye to for most of his childhood, then living on the street for a while when his girlfriend broke up with him and those friends finally and rightfully had enough of him.
He was used to getting by, making do, he had street smarts.
Up until now, he didn't let anything affect him too deeply, he preferred not to think about some things too much.
But this? After the events that occured on Tuesday, he was haunted by nightmares almost every night and some nights, when he felt like he couldn't handle all of this, the fear, the uncertainty, he went somewhere secluded to just cry.
He finally reached the former ballroom where the meeting would be held and looked around for familiar faces.
He'd made a couple good acquaintaces here. It came naturally when you lived together in such close quarters and shared the common goal to survive.
Two of those acquaintaces had died on Tuesday night, or "Bloody Tuesday" as people had begun to call it.
One was a sweet old lady, Mrs. Williams. He never even knew her first name.
The other, John, was a father of two, he didn't even get a grave because there was nothing to bury.
Not much was left of him when the semi-automatics had blown him to pieces.
He looked around the hall, the leaders hadn't arrived yet. Then again, not that many people in general had made their way over yet.
He'd come a bit early, but in his defence, there wasn't much to do around here.
He spotted a familiar couple of faces.
Two blondes, he'd seen them around and talked to them quite a bit.
Next to them was a girl he didn't know who seemed to be about his age.
When he first met them he'd thought that the two were siblings, they looked similar enough.
But they were actually cousins, and despite how much they looked alike, their personalities couldn't be any more different.
Fiona was a level headed, calm, nice although a bit reserved woman.
Her cousin Matthew had a good taste in music and was a nice guy, but he acted kind of odd sometimes. Ejaz had a strong suspicion as to why, but he wasn't one to judge.
Despite their differences, the two cousins always sticked together.
Ejaz didn't like to admit it, but he wished he had someone of that sort too, someone to have his back. The person who came closest to that was Erika, who he spotted standing next to Ms. Davis, a teacher who kept all the kids occupied in the mornings.
He'd never talked to her personally, though.
Erika was a part of the military. He found it a bit odd himself that he actually liked her, especially in the light of the military's actions on Bloody Tuesday.
But she was different, not snarky or rude like most of the others, she had a genuinely kind and caring attitude about her and it showed in her actions, too. She'd helped him tremendously when he first arrived.
He made his way towards the two of them and smiled. "Hi. Excited for all of the BS we're going to be fed?", he asked.
He only realised afterwards that even though Erika was used to his occasional sarcasm, despite being a part of the military, Ms. Davis wasn't. He'd spoken without thinking like he often did.
He knew exactly how the evening was going to play out. The 'leaders' were going to ignore the people's concerns as they always did and fob them off with empty promises.
But no, they wouldn't stand by and allow that. Not this time.
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