JACJAB01
Junior Member
End of the World.
Jullian Graves really thought it was going to be a meteor, virus, nukes, hell... maybe global warming but monsters? Last on the list and if he had money on it, he would had lost just as much. He had been 18 when it happened. Vampires, werewolves, a demon or two. Church said it was the rapture but good bad... they all died.
Now the cities of man were taken back by nature. You could say it was do to over hunting. Now the way to fight back was just to starve them out. Humans, wolves, vamps... all where kinda on their last go these days. Keeping on their toes unless a demon showed up to really fuck your whole world up. Not that their was much to take.
Walking the forest through NY, Jullian rolled his sore shoulders and headed into what must have been quite the impressive hotel once. Careful not to make noise he went as high up the stairs as he cared for. Picking a room with a view. The window muddy and stained but as the afternoon light spilled through grey clouds it wasn't too bad.
Laying out his pack he had some water ran through a Camelback with a water purifier. That held a modest gallon plus. His others were some candy bars he found, rabbit, squirrel, and some cooking supplies. The big one for him was salt. He picked it up where ever he could find it. Setting down a Ruger American in 300. BLK it wore a Silencer Co Suppressor. Wrapped in medical ACE wrap it was camped in the filth it collected. His get out of jail free card was a 359 Python long barrel. A rare fine and held an impressive 3 rounds.
Peeling off his boots he almost fell out on the smell and quickly placed his boots outside in the hall. Socks, jacket, bennie, shirt, pants, all went with him to the tub. An old scratch board was his way of cleaning. Sure it was brutal on the fabric but as a weeks worth of muck came off and turned the water black... he was thankful he had it.
The clothing dried on on a full length vanity mirror, flat screen TV, and a dresser. Standing in grey and neon green biker shorts, he looked out over the city. His board shoulders wore bruising from carrying a pack all the time. He had red fiction Mark's from his rifle and pistol. His hair was longer then he would like but he was clean shaven. A habit left over from his past life. Tomorrow would be the same. More survival. More moving. More not knowing why he was here or what he was searching for.
Laying down on the plush bed almost made him cry, it was so nice. Slowly he pulled out a book and started to escape. It was the end of days but a reason to live needed only be for lifes sake. Still, as he looked at his rifle, he would be lieing if he said he never though about it... a decade later and 28. How it all drug by.
(Any pairing is fine. Reply here or in PM).
Jullian Graves really thought it was going to be a meteor, virus, nukes, hell... maybe global warming but monsters? Last on the list and if he had money on it, he would had lost just as much. He had been 18 when it happened. Vampires, werewolves, a demon or two. Church said it was the rapture but good bad... they all died.
Now the cities of man were taken back by nature. You could say it was do to over hunting. Now the way to fight back was just to starve them out. Humans, wolves, vamps... all where kinda on their last go these days. Keeping on their toes unless a demon showed up to really fuck your whole world up. Not that their was much to take.
Walking the forest through NY, Jullian rolled his sore shoulders and headed into what must have been quite the impressive hotel once. Careful not to make noise he went as high up the stairs as he cared for. Picking a room with a view. The window muddy and stained but as the afternoon light spilled through grey clouds it wasn't too bad.
Laying out his pack he had some water ran through a Camelback with a water purifier. That held a modest gallon plus. His others were some candy bars he found, rabbit, squirrel, and some cooking supplies. The big one for him was salt. He picked it up where ever he could find it. Setting down a Ruger American in 300. BLK it wore a Silencer Co Suppressor. Wrapped in medical ACE wrap it was camped in the filth it collected. His get out of jail free card was a 359 Python long barrel. A rare fine and held an impressive 3 rounds.
Peeling off his boots he almost fell out on the smell and quickly placed his boots outside in the hall. Socks, jacket, bennie, shirt, pants, all went with him to the tub. An old scratch board was his way of cleaning. Sure it was brutal on the fabric but as a weeks worth of muck came off and turned the water black... he was thankful he had it.
The clothing dried on on a full length vanity mirror, flat screen TV, and a dresser. Standing in grey and neon green biker shorts, he looked out over the city. His board shoulders wore bruising from carrying a pack all the time. He had red fiction Mark's from his rifle and pistol. His hair was longer then he would like but he was clean shaven. A habit left over from his past life. Tomorrow would be the same. More survival. More moving. More not knowing why he was here or what he was searching for.
Laying down on the plush bed almost made him cry, it was so nice. Slowly he pulled out a book and started to escape. It was the end of days but a reason to live needed only be for lifes sake. Still, as he looked at his rifle, he would be lieing if he said he never though about it... a decade later and 28. How it all drug by.
(Any pairing is fine. Reply here or in PM).
