Realistic or Modern Don't Be Scared, Don't Be Shy (Reboot IC)

[Walliver]

"It's a nice day for a walk." the woman's face was blurred in his dreams. His dreams- flashing right in front of his eyes as he stood there, awake in every sense of the word. "Let's take a walk. Get some fresh air. You've been cooped up in that house for far too long." And maybe he should have stayed cooped up. Maybe then he wouldn't have been a walking corpse, shambling through the ruins of a city, killing and consuming without questioning why. Until he found the necklace. Plated with gold, studded with fake diamonds. There was a blue stone set into the single charm that hung from the jewelry, a blue stone he couldn't name. That was the day he started to Reform. He started feeling emotion, sensation, he saw everything yet still knew nothing- nothing about himself or about the world around him. But he started to dream...

"It's time to wake up, Hadeon. Today's the start of the big harvest."

The big harvest, the week they'd all been waiting for. When all their hard work over the past month would finally pay off, and there would be food plentiful for everyone in the tribe, human or otherwise. He was happy, happy to be woken up for such an amazing day. Everything was blooming, amazing and beautiful. All his siblings would be cooking and baking and laughing- really, truly, living. Hadeon smiled, shrugging on his jacket and following everyone out to the fields. Most of his siblings still shambled, still occasionally bit things- but it was more playful, more how a dog carefully bites its owner's hand in the manner of playfighting. Most of his siblings didn't move with quite the direction and purpose that he and some others did, but they were still recovering- they just needed a little help to get there. Which he happily provided, as there was no greater satisfaction than seeing the people around him begin to feel the same way he did. It was both a wonderful and harsh process, one he was still going through. Sometimes he couldn't remember, sometimes he relapsed and hurt people and-

That was why Elena and Triss were the only ones who worked in the fields with them. They were the only immune ones in the whole tribe, the only ones that weren't afraid of the sudden relapses; they were afraid, but not quite scared, just worried for them. The rest of the tribe was scared. Scared of the "zombies", who shambled and killed outside of their fortified fence. Scared of the "zombies", who lived and spoke within the walls, within the tribe. Which was both reasonable and not, as relapses happened but not often. Relapses happened, they happened because something had gone wrong, something had been said or done that triggered the relapse and caused the attack. But he couldn't explain that to them, not when they were scared to even look at him.

But the big harvest was going to be a general time of peace between human and sort-of-human, a time of good fortune and good food. Or so they all hoped.

-:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:--:-

Elena let out a childish giggle, watching one of the Reformed fall face-first into the grass. There was an aura of joy coating the whole ground of the tribe, happiness soaking into the fields and permeating the wells. The harvest wouldn't be particularly long, especially not for the Reformed- due to their numbers and their ability to go a long time without sleep, water, or food- but it would be a good harvest. Corn, wheat, barley, eggs from their chickens, milk and meat from their cows, and even more foraging when all that was done. They would eat like kings for the next- Elena paused in her thinking, looking around at the fields. The field for the Reformed was larger than the field for the other Tribespeople, but it balanced out with the population count. After the harvesting and the cooking, they'd all eat well for at least a month, maybe even two if they rationed properly.

That brought a larger, more sentimental smile to her face. Elena was proud of the community she had established, the people she had brought together. People from all walks of life- and of varying stages of decay, she thought with a laugh. They were all gathered together, building huts and farming crops as a whole tribe. It was...nice to have some semblance of normal. Some semblance of happiness after-

Screaming, crying, blood pouring out of Opal's neck. Opal was choking on their own blood, coughing and sputtering trying to tell Elena something and they-

Elena shook her head, set down her water cup, and headed back out to the fields. Work would clear her mind, accomplishment would make her forget.

 

[Lazaro1505]

It was yet another long day at work… and as of currently going back home from yet another day within the office. The day was normal like any other… well, as normal as this small outbreak of some sort of disease was going around the town. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why people were getting so riled up about. From the testing in the office, to the sudden increase of worry from people, he wasn’t even sure why people were getting so worked up about something that just gave people a small cold. Not like the virus was melting their brains from their skulls or bringing the dead back to life. Well… he should stop reading those damn comic books, because it seems like he was thinking about all sorts of crazy stuff lately. But he couldn’t help it… considering it seemed like almost everyone in this dang town was going crazy or something.

During his drive home, he could only give a side glance of… what appears to be a fight? He wasn’t sure, didn’t pay much attention to it considering he was too busy focusing on getting home. Not like he wanted to get into the problems being caused by other people. Although, that one guy’s face was a bit to close towards the other guy’s shoulder… and it looked like the other guy was screaming in pain. Was he biting the man like a damn animal? Man… people can get so ducking crazy nowadays, it’s as if he couldn’t tell the difference between them or a rabid dog. All the more reason not to get involved… wouldn’t want to lose a eye or something after all. Some minutes late, and there he was, back home, as the man pulled up on the driveway and was just about to get out of the car, before noticing something. The front door was open. Normally, it would have been closed… and… did he see a blood trail lead inside? Oh shit, someone must’ve gotten inside!

Without any hesitation along with a newfound purpose, the man reached over and opened the glove compartment, before pulling out ole reliable, a Berreta M9. Luckily, he had the idea of getting a gun license alongside with getting an actual gun in order to ensure he can protect his family better. His wife wasn’t against the idea of being able to ensure their family was safer after all. After releasing the magazine from the pistol and properly checking the weapon, he swiftly made his way from out of the car and to the front door of his house. It was a decently sized home, something that he and his wife had saved up for those years ago, and ever since they’ve gotten it, they have been living here ever since. Blah, no time for that… he needed to get inside, and quickly! Without any word, he entered the house… and… was it far darker than usual?

No, he can’t focus on that for now… he needed to go… now! Merely taking out his phone and turning on the flashlight for it, he maneuvered his way through the house, making sure to remain quiet as he was unsure of wheter or not the individual who opened the door was still here. Then he had stopped within a hallway… the trail of blood ending underneath a door… and with nowhere else to go, he began to approach it. The hallway from his perspective seemed to have extended, stretching further and further, as if the world itself was warping and changing it so that he couldn’t reach it, as if it didn’t want him to open the door. But that feeling quickly went away as the man gripped the handle… and gently opened the door.

Pointing the flashlight within the room, he could only stop when he saw…

“Julia!”

His wife, kneeling next to his daughter. The man could only keep his phone’s flashlight trained on the two, as he went ahead to approach the two, fear present on his face over worry what could have happened… but, he stopped. He saw the blood on Julia’s hands… and yet, that wasn’t the end of it. Until now, his wife was still seemingly staring down, as if something was wrong. But he couldn’t accept this fact… he knew that she couldn’t have done… this. And that’s when she turned to face him, and what he was met with was something other than Julia. A skeletal looking face, barely held together with some pieces of skin as to even resemble something remotely human. And it stared at him… blood lining the very lower portion of its face, staring right at him with cold dead eyes. The man could only take a step back, training his pistol onto the thing that was mimicking his wife, the corpse like creature getting up from the floor, shambling towards him, the still fresh blood dripping down from its face and staining the tile floor even more. He… wanted to shoot, shoot it, but he couldn’t. He was afraid… he was powerless… and most importantly… he felt as if he already lost.

The corpse merely traversed the distance quickly, but instead of lunging out to go and attack him, it instead, put its head near his mouth, and whispered something into his ear that echoed within his mind.

“Why did you abandon us… let us die just so that you could continue on living… hesitating to even giving us a proper farewell…. did you even care for us in the first place? You failed at protecting us…”

—————————————————————

Waking up with sweat dousing his face and adrenaline coursing through his veins in a hurry, a man quickly reached underneath his pillow case, and pulled out a Berreta M9… seemingly one similar to that within his dream, and quickly aimed the pistol around the room, his hurried breaths from his mouth supplying his lungs with the required oxygen he needs as he aimed at anything even remotely dangerous within the room, only to be met with nothing there…

It was the same old room as it always was, a familiar room, not that of his old home, but that of his current one, a new one. One that held the very hope for humanity’s survival… well, not in the traditional sense of a secret weapon or cure to what was happening outside… but it was enough. An abandoned military base, something he has been residing within as turned into a new home alongside a couple others attempting to survive out here within this hell. They were lucky enough that this base remained mostly intact, just having a few ‘stragglers’ to take care of first before they could truly calm it home, but that was easy enough.

And right now, he was safe, nothing was out to get him. There was no screaming, gunfire, explosions… nothing. Just peace… and quiet. Like it always should be. As the last bird of adrenaline wore off, George Heartman could only sigh and slowly put the pistol onto the nightstand next to his bed, letting go of the weapon and bringing another hand to his head. It was just another nightmare George, those weren’t the real events that happen that night, just a bad dream, that is all. They aren’t out to get you… you’ve done all you could… you… just need to push this away for another day. Focusing on the past will just hurt you more, yeah, that’s it. Just… do that.

Well, what a start to a day, almost getting a heart attack from a nightmare as well as being this close to randomly firing his pistol at nothing. Great, just great, look at how fan fucking-tastic this day was getting to. Welp, no need to dwell on the matter anymore… he needed to prepare for the day. And with that… he settled on getting dressed.

—————————————————————

Now wearing his signature combat gear and outfit, George Heartman as now walking down the hallway of the main building for the base, a few of the individuals either waking up from their bunks and getting up or committing small talk within the hallway took notice of him and merely greeted him like any other. After all, he specifically asked them to treat him like any other human individual, considering that just because he held the title of being the leader doesn’t mean he had to be treated as if he was a king or something. The Prepper’s Militia, he was proud of how far they had come ever since the first weeks of the initial infection. From what was considered a small group of decently trained individuals preparing for the apocalypse to a more larger sized making alliances with more Civilized groups and offering them aid and protection in return for supplies, they had certainly gathered themselves a reputation after all these months.

Not like anyone else was going around and giving those assholes outside their ‘proper’ resting places… well, as proper as sharpened machetes and a bullet to the cranium is, but it surely is better being dead than a mindless shambling freaks of nature. He couldn’t think of a far worse way to go than becoming one of those things. But, nonetheless, the Prepper’s Militia is certainly doing what was right, and that was giving hope out there to the last remaining groups of people here. Hope that things can return back to normal… hope that all of this will be over soon… hope that they no longer have to struggle to survive out here… hope that all will be fine in the end. Some people had died during this task, but he was certain their sacrifice wouldn’t be for nothing…

And as George exited the main building, he was met with the field and other group’s of buildings that made up the base. From the side, he could see the very walls that kept the very creatures outside and away from reaching their buildings. Earlier, it only used to be a simple metal chain-link fence and barbed wire keeping them away, but now, it was reinforced with wooden walls as to block view alongside provide an extra layer of defense, alongside (he couldn’t see it from here, but he know it was there due to seeing such many times over and over again) an extra wall and wooden stakes and barbed wire being deployed onto the front as to keep anything not alive (or alive depending on the context) away. And paired with the occasional guard tower placed around the perimeter, nothing was getting past that wall, not without a fight. Seems like nothing was there for now.

But from the side of his view, he could definitely see someone approaching, turning right as to face the individual, he was met with one of the few people that was crazy enough to charge in headfirst towards an zombie within merely adrenaline and a machete at their side. It was an woman wearing a leather jacket commonly found on individuals such as those stereotypical bikers paired with leather pants and steel-tipped boots. On the Woman’s shoulder rested a aluminum baseball bat with some dents within the metal bat, using her right arm to keep the bat up in place. And lastly, she was wearing a closed motorcycle helmet that covered her entire head, leaving only a dark visor of she used to see with. If he recalled correctly, the woman also padded her clothing with duct tape underneath as to provide her more protection from any unwarranted bites when getting in close with those freaks.

“hey! George! How ya doing.”

“I’m doing fine Wilma, just got up a couple of minutes ago from bed.”

“Ah… cool… cool. Been meaning to ask ya, are ya ready for the event later today?”

“Oh, that…”

He knew what she was talking about. Ever since the apocalypse started and they had gotten the base, every 3 weeks, they would go on and have a planned celebration with increased drinking and just having a good time. But the main event of course, was witnessing him going against a zombie within an makeshift arena, the Prepper’s going ahead to watch him wrestle with the most dangerous thing out there. He didn’t forget that it was today, and well… he did have a lot of pent up steam and stress he wanted to release, so he’ll certainly wouldn’t want to chicken out now. After all, he’s been doing this for a while now, what’s wrong with one more match?

“Won’t miss it… be seeing you there.”

“Aight George… oh, and one more thing. Go kick that zombie’s ass for me in less than five minutes, got a bet going on with my brother to see whether or not you’ll finish off the zed head early this time, and you know I’m not the type for losing after.”

“Heh, can’t make any promises.”

And with that, the woman had walked away and into the base behind George she went, probably to do something or eat some food, George wasn’t sure. But one thing is for sure… George certainly was gonna have some fun later today, so no need to ache his muscles exercising today… oh he can already see himself getting yet another victory against his ‘opponent’.​

 

[ScatheAriiasqDrayceon]

With the heat of the late summer sun bearing down on the world, it was easy to see why wanderers migrated toward the shade and misty comfort of the forest, the leaves above protecting those below with their shadow. Even then, it was still hot, and more importantly, humid. The kind of humid that stuck your shirt to your back and greeted your awakening with a sticky tongue and a pounding headache. It was the kind of humid mosquitoes thrived in.

But while mosquitoes may thrive in humid weather, Ariis most certainly did not.

Ariiasqthylinh Au Drayceon, car thief, accidental incinerator of houses, and shambling-meatsuit extraordinaire, was currently—and quite dramatically—dying. Well, at least, that's what they'd tell someone. They supposed that in reality, they were no worse off than just about anyone else in the midst of the apocalypse, simply hot, dehydrated, and quite possibly delirious from the combination of all of their bad habits hitting them at once. It still remained fun to bitch. "It's too hot to be alive," they grumbled, completely limp with their head halfway dropping off Jet's shoulder.

Jet Kaedos, walking corpse, scarecrow for all things creepy, and guardian to all little shits who happened to run into him, huffed in reply, barely turning his head to eye the teen slumped against his back. Hiss-huff-cluck-huff-growl. He followed the dry statement by awkwardly detangling Arii's leg from his arm to pat them on the head with a vaguely "shhh"-sounding hiss. Not so much an order for them to be quiet as a show of sympathy, the illusion only slightly broken by Jet's not-so-subtle attempts to hide his amused snort.

"I know it's summer," Arii replied, voice softening. It was never loud to begin with, but the illusion of having any substantial volume at all fell away with the appearance of a little smile. They actually quite liked times like these, when there was nothing in the world but endless forest. No path, no goal, no responsibility they never asked for. Just walking with the deer trails and watching the shifting patterns of the sun-dappled ground. "But it's hellish out here."

No goals. Nothing to do. Nothing people expected them to do.

That earned them another half-laugh-snort... well, it was more like a rolled huff, seeing as Jet's face was a skull and that made for some pretty bad acoustics. It was close enough that they knew what—

The steady rhythm of Jet's footsteps stopped, and he carefully twisted his head to the side in an uncanny imitation of an owl, turning it this way and that slowly; methodically. An airy, tense hiss seeped out of the back of his throat as he tensed, twisting to stare at the crest of a hill almost completely obscured by the darkness brought by the thick forest.

Zomb—nope. Nope. Totally not a zombie. Zombies didn't fuckin' exist. This shit was just a corpse that forgot to die. Yup.

Just one—Arii figured it probably got left behind after a pack started chasing something. They couldn't hear any more of them, and with the old leaves from last fall still littering the ground, Jet would have heard the rest of them, earlier. Just the appearance of one set Jet on edge, though. He rumbled in discontent, the sound bordering a growl as he turned to trudge further downwind to mask their scent.

Arii hummed, glancing back at the shambling excuse for a bag of bones. A shiver prickled up their spine. "Are you sure you know where you're going?"

Huff cluck-huff-trill-huff-growl hiss-huff-chuff huff chuff-huff-chuff.

"Right..." It was far too easy for Arii to forget important information. Like the fact that neither they nor Jet knew where to go at this point. They'd heard of a Civilization of people living on the other side of town, but Jet didn't remember most things about his time among the living, and Arii hadn't been further than the local Starbucks without the assistance of their phone.

But they needed to get out of the open; somewhere Jet'd be safe, too.

Preferably somewhere with fewer people.

 

[Tapfic]

Hot air collected under the boy's mask with every shallow breath; it poured from the underside like steam and made the already humid air that much more unbearable. Dark goggles over his eyes would fog over every ten minutes or so; and need to be whiped clear.

Sure, it was annoying - sure, it was uncomfortable; but by god he would take annoying and uncomfortable over getting spattered blood in his mouth or eyes any day.

Most of the shops in the inner city had been wiped barren by cizilized parties collecting supplies. Lan knew it already, he knew because he had been with those parties not too long ago.
The small shops on the very edge of the city had become his only hope in finding any manner of supplies, supplies he needed to search for now if he didnt want to find himself scowering for bullets in the apocolypse without a round in his gun. The boy didnt know what type of gun he actually had- but he knew it took 9 mm ( he prononced each m in his head ) rounds.

Now, dressed in far too many layers for any living creature to be comfortable with in this heat; he crouched behind the old wall of the shop- peering into the broken window before stepping through. The gun clutched like a lifeline in both hands.

He winced at every crunch of glass giving way beneath his boots, every exhale that came out a bit too loud, every beat his heart pushed out in his chest. Lan's ears rang with the sound of silence as he traversed the floor.

The shelves themselves were surprisingly well stocked- the edge of the city was much easier to escape than its center; folks that lived here must have cleared town too quickly to bother with raiding stores. Luckily enough for him.

An old hunting goods supplier. The guns had been cleared out- but a few stray boxes of ammunition sat behind- locked shelves. Great.

He wanted to sigh; but that was unnecessary noise. Noise he would not risk.

Lan snatched a hunting knife from a shelf and stuck it in his pack- evident spite in his every movment. As though taking the knife would somehow get back at the shop owners for being responsible with their wares. Fuck them for protecting their invintory in a previously non-apocolyptic world; honestly.

Now he had to look for the keys, or risk shattering the already cracked glass shooting open the lock.

He opted for the first option, forceing it open could wait.

Quick and careful feet made their way deeper into the shop- a hop over the counter- a careful listen into the employee only room behind it, before he cracked open the door.

Nothing.

A step inside; then two. The rope tied around the sleeve of his jacket shifted uncomfortably against his skin- but his hands were a bit to preoccupied with the gun in his grip to bother with adjusting.

The keys were easy to find at least; hung on a labled holder against the back wall. Maybe things would finnaly go his way-

In the silence, Lan heard shift in the room he had left. A groan. Something fell from its place on a shelf. A gloved hand grabbed the keys before he shoved himself back against the wall- he slid down- making himslef smaller as he inched to find a hiding spot.

The shambling corpse pushed the open door ajar, and made it's way inside.

God this would be so much easier if he could just headshot and be done with it- but noooo; his hands had to shake like the little bitches they were. It was dead! It was already dead! There was absolutely no good reason on this damn earth his stupid subconcious brain shouldn't let him kill it! What in the damn world was the point of a trauma response if it didn't actually provide means to keep the body safe?? Huh?? Explain, electric meat pudding. Explain.

But fine. Fine.
They were the cards he had been delt, and they were the cards he had to play with.
And the cards he had to win with if he didn't want to end up- y'know. Dead.

Careful hands readied his gun; he would just have to hope the silencer fixed on it's muzzle would be enough to avoid attracting anything else once the shot went out.

Lan had a system- take out the knees, the shoulders, and the lower jaw. Couldnt bite if they couldnt move, and they really couldnt bite with only half a face.

He opened the small door of the cabinate he had crawled into ( being small was actually helpful sometimes ) and took a steady breath.
He would go for the Jaw first.
As soon as it turned its head to the side.

Just a few more seconds-

A quiet beep came from his chest. Lan smacked a hand over it.

The zombie turned its head to face him.

---

Tired eyes blinked open, staring up at the sun speckled leaves of a tree.

That incident had been a few days ago; before Lan had decided to set out looking for some way to charge the bitch in his chest.

There was no beep; his brain had added that last bit into the nightmare for dramatic effect; like the bitch it was. Lan had immobalized the zombie as he always did; got the bullets he needed - and left.

Now he woke up in a tree; rope tied around his torso, keeping him bound to the branch.

He untied himself, wrapped the rope around his arm, and climbed down.

There were lot less of the rotting bitches in the forest than the city at least- but it was still far from safe.

Just as he did every morning; his mask was pulled up- his goggles pulled down- and an arrow pointing in the direction he was headed was carved into the tree.
Because getting lost alone in a forest was probobly one of the most pathetic ways to go about dying when man eating corpses lunged out of every crevice.
And.
Maybe he wanted someone to find him.

Really, a selfish thought considering the little device keeping his heart beeping could sputter out and die any day now.

But Lan decided he could be a little selfish. Just a bit. As a treat.

 

[Yazzah]

Hwan Woo-sung huffed in annoyance, his leg jerking clumsily as he'd gotten his foot stuck in some dangling rope. He'd been roughhousing with some of his siblings, chasing and having a day of merriment when this thing had trapped him. He gave another jerk, only to slip from the movement and crash to the ground face first. A muffled groan escaped him as he lay in the grass. The poor zombie just wanted to get back out there and bug the one sibling he hadn't bumped into today. Hadeon hadn't gotten up at the same time he had, but he was sure the two could have fun before any work–

"형(Brother)"​

His shoulders instantly tensed at the sound in his head. What was that? What was that word? Actually...What was he even confused about again? He didn’t remember.

He hoisted himself up, sighing to himself as he tugged, almost pouting at the rope. Blood from his nose trickled down and over his mouth from behind the mask. His tongue flicked out in interest--

"여보(Honey)"​

A low growl settles in the back of his throat, eyesight almost fuzzy as an oppressive weight seems to replace the slight annoyance of the rope. Flashes of a scene dance along his vision. Hands pushing him back, shock, falling, trapped, dragged... Pain...Screaming. Someone was screaming. He could almost make it out.

"그냥 죽어--"​

Nails dug into the ground, ripping at the grass as he dragged himself forward, mouth slowly opening behind that mask into a wide snarl. Saliva flooded his mouth and swirled with his own blood on his tongue, the combination spiraling him forward as the need for violence pounded in his head...until he was free. The screaming and the scenes flashing instantly faded away. Confusion filled Hwan as he looked around and back to the rope that he'd slipped free of.

The powerful drag forward had been enough to dislodge the rope! Happiness flooded his system, tempering him as he unsteadily righted himself, standing once more. A low laugh replaced the growl in his throat as he stumbled forward again, the entire reason for his near relapse forgotten as he excitedly ran after a familiar figure in the distance.

—​

"HHHHHAAAADDDEEEEONN!" A drawn-out attempt at shouting his brother's name was the only warning he got before a 6'2 zombie barreled into Hadeon himself. The familiar tackle hug characteristic of Hwan. It seemed this wasn’t a day he could control his excitement too well, so the pair ended up tumbling to the ground from the force of it. Hwan’s laughter at the incident and the twinkle in his eyes let his brother know just how happy the day made him. After all, he was excited! They’d have a harvest and wouldn’t have to worry about food for a while!

He gave his brother an affectionate head bump as he moved to sit beside him. If he could, he'd excitedly babble to his brother, but sadly Hwan needed a moment to search for the words in his head. It was frustrating not being able to say what he meant sometimes, but he made it work. So with a tilt of his head and a small click of his teeth, he'd point out to where a few siblings were having a good time, "Fun?"

With another point, he'd motion to where the fields would be, "Or work?"