Fantasy &nbsp; Welcome To The Afterlife [Always Open] - [Mystery | Supernatural | Action]

RE: JEANETTE

Location: Maintenance Shafts
Examiner Notes: leggit ladz, we've got wingboyes to kill

Classified
The wind is an extra harsh mistress this night. Down in the main headquarters, the inhabitants are mostly protected from the weather and the noise above, but up in the precarious and cramped quarters of the maintenance shafts, there is plenty of weather outside, alright. Thunderstorms rumble, their distinct deep-blue lightning crackle across the skies, signifying newcomers. But the storm also warns any onlookers of another arrival, one far more dangerous than a few naked humans materializing from thin air: Angels. Lots of Angels.

To a denizen of the underground complex, such a threat comes predictably; either in concentrated numbers down the elevator shaft, or the mostly exposed Greenhouses and tunnels. But for Jeanette, the threat is everywhere. She hates maintenance guard duty. She absolutely deplores it. Her Kar98k rifle is rather unwieldy in the cramped, mechanical quarters, and the barrel and buttstock keep on banging into the myriad of pipes and valves and fuse-box covers, beyond her control. But she forcefully went; mostly because she's the best one at it. No one dies on her watch. No one has, and as long as her booby traps stay in place, no one will. That's why they keep sending her on maintenance guard duty. And besides, she has to go. Because if she doesn't, who will?

The particular maintenance shaft that Jeanette is now semi-stuck in is particularly near the elevator shaft, almost mirroring the largest pathway in and out of the HQ with a tight, claustrophobia-inducing upwards pipe, filled to the brim with fuse-boxes, valves, hydraulics pipes, ventilation pipes, even the occasional bundle of electrical wire, fumbled together into an incomprehensible mess that would take days to unfurl. Fastened to a dedicated "navigation" pipe with a rope, the Franco-Russian girl holds firm, waiting for the burly part-time Homesteader engineer, Alexei, to finish up fixing a blown fuse.

The girl looked upwards, her head an inch away from the man's feet, asking a question with a tinge of uncharacteristic worry in her voice. "You done? We should really go." Just like clockwork, a series of banging and clanging, accompanied by a muffled cacophony of screeches and claws scraping on metal, begun to emanate from the tight walls. The Angels are coming down the elevator shaft.

Trappy · Jan 5, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

Bang Bang (And other people near the elevator)

RE: ALEXEI

Location: Maintenance Shafts
Examiner Notes: it's happening!!! :DDDD

Classified
"Ugh..."

Alex shivers to a passing breeze. His left hand carefully reaches for a new fuse from his pocket while the right one clenches ever-so-tightly onto the safety rope. His skin chilled from the cold. The teeth in his mouth chattered together relentlessly and uncontrollably, and he couldn't stop himself from shaking when a breeze passes by. The sky is sounding its drums. To their "mortal" eyes, it is a loud and violent thunderstorm, a terrifying sight Alex has grown familiar with. It marks two things: the arrival of more 'dead', and the vile Angels that shall disturb their night.

And while many are all tucked-up in a warm bed at such a time, Alex is cramped into a tight pipe - literally surrounded by pipes, fuse boxes and others of the sort. He's also dangling like 15-20m above the ground (where he belongs). Needless to say, for someone his size, it is not comfortable. And the scraping noises from up the elevator just adds flavour into the mix. Quite unnerving, he will admit. It is an electrical regulation shaft, certainly not a particularly safe place to be during a storm. There was a simple task: fix a blown fuse, and he volunteered for it. Mostly because he was the only man up for the job. But it's not for his skill, but because most of the professional engineers are all too occupied with patching the Greenhouse at the moment, leaving Alex, a part-timer. Plus, he figured being attacked by Angels during a blackout isn't that great.

Either way, stuck in a shaft, amidst all the resistors, transformers, capacitors and what-not in such weather, the burly man was starting to regret his decision. But what can he do about it now? He's more interested in finishing the job and get the hell out. And it seems his partner agrees.

"You done? We should really go." - A girl called out from below, who goes by the name Jeanette. She's not much younger than Alex himself, from what he's learned about her. They had some talk, as work-partners. Though their encounters so far leave little chances for chit-chat, but Alex tends to find it somewhat awkward around her. He blames the situations they meet in, which are mostly work. Either way, Jeanette is far more nimble than Alex. And yet, the shaft leaves her little room to move around, evident by the usual echoing bangs from her rifle hitting the pipes, and the following curses in Russian.

"Right. And . . . We're good. Let's get out of here." - He finishes off the work just in time, as the scraping noises are echoing louder and louder from up the elevator shaft. They quickly rappel down the rope, with their gear and rifles banging onto the poking out fuse boxes and pipes along the way.

As his feet hit the ground, making a loud thud, Alex calls out to the guards standing at their post.

"Hit it lads, lights are good. Sounds like one big batch o'flyers tonight." - Electricity won't be up for the major parts of the base, since that wasn't the big generator. But knowing the circuits, as far as it goes, they should be able to at least get some defensive equipment online, and Alex is grabbing all the help he could get for the defenders of HQ. God help them tonight, for Angels are after their poor souls.

TheCrowKing · Jan 5, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE:Arian

Location: GreenHouses
Examiner Notes: (OOC Here)

Classified“Why now?” A bolt of lightning ripped across the sky in a thundering arc, momentarily blinding those exposed to it before dissipating. White noise seemed to roar against the wind competitively, the two battling for a chance to deafen whosever’s ears were within range, the lightning delivering the shriller of the two, whilst the wind rolled in on ominous clouds of grey. A third competitor dared to set foot upon the playing field, an unholy noise that pierced through the deafening boom of the lightning, it pale in comparison to the newest of noises. This new noise rose far above that of lightning, more terrifying, hauntingly beautiful as it fell upon them: Angels. Though off in the distance, they made their presence clear, instilling fear in those once they drew nearer.

The wails of the damned reached the ears of a man in the south, a man frantically dragging in crate after crate of ruined flora. Though many would assume the crushed plants were worthless, this man seemed to think otherwise, swiftly toting in the rest of his load before yanking open a supply closest, in search of tools to possibly save the crop. Upon his rude awakening, he was informed to haul ass over to the green houses to salvage what he could. Having bolted from his sleeping chambers, only half dressed, the gardener arrived at the first, only to discover the structure utterly destroyed. The building hadn’t stood a chance to the weather, crumpling like wet paper as the skies rained hell upon them. Having feared the same for the rest, Arian had left the tattered remains to sprint to the separate buildings. Thankfully, he was able to pull some crops from the wreckage of the second.

Fist crashing upon the metallic shelving unit, he spat a curse at the darkness that surrounded him, fumbling for his trowel. To his luck, a flash of lightning illuminated the skies enough for him to catch sight of it in the furthest corner. Fingers clawing frantically for the tool, he latched upon the handle and rushes back over to the disrupted crop in the crates. “These are terrible, they’re drowned…” A muddied hand swiped across his face as his hazel eyes evaluated the salvaged plant bits before him, plucking a few of the ruffled cabbages aside. Those would have to used soon, or they’d go to waste. If anyone survives tonight. Teeth grit, he shook his head to clear those cowardly thoughts, inspecting the ruined roots of the vegetable.

“Hopefully this building survives the night, least we all starve.” He whispered to himself, his body squatted and hunched over the crates as he worked away, separating them into piles of what could be salvaged. Without any lighting, other than what the flashes provided him, it was a bit of a task, but he managed to save a few for replanting. A glance toward the north entrance, he shivered and waddles his soaked body over to the growing beds to hunt down a space for the refugee foodstuffs.

LuciTheGreat · Jan 5, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To: All

RE: Addison

Location: HQ, Main Generator Room
Examiner Notes: She done goofed! :( She's not dead [I]yet[/I] tho!

ClassifiedThe generator room was dark, grey and cracked with age. It was filled with the scorched remains of one of the 2 diesel generators that once powered the whole base. Addison was laying amongst the hot ashes on the ground: breathless and astonished. Despite her situation, there was only one thought that was troubling her: “What did just happen?”.

She wanted to test the new Power Control System she just installed on the main generator last night. Should her new system work, they wouldn’t have to worry about the regular blackouts at the HQ anymore. She could monitor everything: from load and renewables forecasting to unit commitment and load shedding, the whole energy system could be under her control. This, along with the Automatic Generation Control Server she installed in the CCTV Room would allow her to optimise the energy system to it’s fullest and monitor it at all times. It would be a long term solution to the severe energy crisis they were going through.

Thomas approved her plans and allowed her to do whatever she wished with the generators. All that was left to do before completely implementing the system was to test it. She turned the main generator off during the installation, she just had to turn it on. It was a simple process, she just had to turn the lever and press the big red button on the control unit. But just as she did that, she realised something was off, the air smelled funny. “…it smells like gas…” she said to herself, “Did I hit a pipe while installing the system?”. But it was already too late, Addison’s eyes widen in fear as the fuel burner ignites with a terrible buzz.

There was a sudden blinding flash followed by a muffled roar that was smashed and torn into crazy sound bites. The generator bucked and rocked in the fury of the shock waves and minute particles of debris peppered Addison’s underbelly, smashing her dainty body into the nearest wall. A black turmoil of smoke rose to engulf the room and, just as fast as it started, the fires stopped and the whole room went dark…

“Everything is so sticky and warm and soaked in red. It feels so heavy, but where's the pain? I don't feel any pain. Will I be alright?” she thought to herself. She was down on her back. “Soon I will probably be back on my feet…” a hopeful thought passed through her mind. She wanted to stand up, but couldn’t. Her legs, they wouldn’t move and her body… it wouldn’t budge.

It was then that she realised the whole room was way too quiet, even the scratching sounds stopped… did she go deaf? Her entire body was numb, she couldn’t feel any pain, no discomfort, nothing at all.

“Heh… at least the other generator still works…” she thought and made a sound halfway between a gasp of horror and a stifled burst of laughter. A bit after that she could regain her senses: she could feel that most of her skin was burnt to a crisp, it was aching, and the pain would only intensify with every breath she took. It was agonizing.

“I can't escape and I can't sleep, if I sleep it’ll be worse. Somebody find me please, I can't sleep, I can still escape…” her thoughts turned darker by the second. Her mouth tasted like iron and she soon realised she was bathing in her own blood, or at least what was left of it…

She sent her helpers after materials right before the test, they should be back soon. The explosion should have shaken the whole base. Help had to be on the way. But it was getting cold for Addison, really cold. It didn’t take much and she soon succumbed to the darkness that was slowly engulfing her vision…

haydenly1633 · Jan 5, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

Bang Bang (And others near the elevator)

RE: JACKSON

Location: Elevator
Examiner Notes: Here goes nothing! :D

Classified
Eyes desperate to adjust stared into the dark. Eyes couldn't see her hand in front of her face. The thunder rolled, she was sure lightening was lighting up the sky. However, it was dark as shit down here and she was mad about it. Angels were trying to get in and in the dark was not the way she wanted to greet them. She was crouched slightly, her thigh muscles tightening as she bent her knees. Her back was flat against the wall next to the elevator that led to the world above them. Both of her hands gripped her handgun, the muzzle pointing at the floor between her feet. She did not want to have to use this gun in the dark. She was glad when Alexei and Jeanette had volunteered to go to the maintenance shafts and try to fix the lighting.

Blonde hair fell away from ice blue eyes as a girl glanced upward. Dirty, hazy, washed out light fell across her body, giving a good view of everything around her. "Thank f*ck," she groaned, swiping the hair away from her line of sight. She grimaced some as she heard Angel claws scraping against the metal. They wanted in just so damn bad. But if she had anything to say about it, that sure wasn't happening. She was supposed to wait for some backup, it sounded like way too many Angels for her to face by herself; however, she had always been impatient. She gripped the 1911 tighter, suddenly wishing that she had her bigger gun, but she'd been doing other stuff when the lights had gone out.

Jackson was tired of waiting. She just wanted to kill some Angels. Like the Angels had heard her, there was a loud metallic sound as something gave way above her. She waited for an onslaught of the winged creatures, but when none happened, she figured they must've broken something secondary to what was protecting the opening of the elevator. Suddenly, another loud noise and a gentle rocking of the place she stood made everything go quiet. She froze. "What was that?" she cursed, looking wildly around where she was standing. Then thunder crashes loudly again and it was like all the other noises started at the same time. "Now is not the time," she hissed, mostly to herself because no one else was around.

Where were the others? She had no idea. Until suddenly, she heard footsteps coming her way. She had obviously missed the group of guards, watching as they approached. They had waited for the light; which, ya know, was the smart thing to do.

TheCrowKing · Jan 6, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE:Rosencrantz

Location: Rec Room
Examiner Notes: (OOC Here)

ClassifiedThough many would believe the sky was displaying her anger at the Afterlifers with the bolts of lightning, when in reality she was weeping for them. She wept at the arrival of so many freshly dead, her tears pelting the ground and structures in a torrent of sorrow for the so many souls damned to this place. As the lightning cracked, her internal rage burned at the unfairness of it all, wailing as the creatures of this land harmed the poor souls further. Was it not enough they’re time on earth had come to an end far too early? That they must suffer further under Fate’s cruel hand? She wept for her children of the earth, her tears from the heavens in actuality, drowning them.

As the sky released her sorrows, so did she watch as so many souls descended into this plane of existence. Too many, there was far too many here. Among the souls, several materialized safely in an obvious place, wishing to be found and consoled as they too cried towards the heavens at their unusual punishment. How dare they take away their eternal peace of the afterlife, only to present them with hideous creatures that actively sought out the satisfaction of their continuous deaths? Not only that, but took away any comfort of home as their memories were stripped from them. Utterly heinous.

As many of the new arrivals were taken to spare rooms, one in particular was unfortunate enough to come into being in a storage-heavy area of the rec room, a great distance from the current situation in hand and any attention. Yet, was out of sight, out of mind the best for him? Unconscious body landing heavily among the crates of storage, smashing a few of the ricketier ones in the fall, the man lies battered and scraped among the wreckage. Body exposed to what or whomever might find him, the brown-haired male with a single pink lock, remained unaware what await him upon awakening, fingertips lightly twitching as the countdown began.

Weaknees · Jan 7, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

TheCrowKing

RE: JUNIPER

Location: His research lab/sleeping chamber. Move to Rec room.
Examiner Notes: Cutie Junbug

ClassifiedJuniper hardly ever gave a flying angel as to what newcomers were joining the HQ, and he didn't right much care about the HQ itself either... So long his own little area was working properly. He always liked to make sure his little section had light, warmth, and other comfortable essentials; however he slept on an uncomfortable cot made out of a simple woven fabric, which gave him back pain. Luckily for him, when the pain started to hit (after a month or so), he would kill himself and start anew. The cot got the job done, all while helping him grow his pain tolerance, so he saw no reason to replace it. Sculpted and worn stone counters held his research materials, and housed his various "collectable" items. Warped ears, eyes, tongues, and other body parts, could be found in jars all throughout his humble abode. Jun had been around the HQ long enough to make the area his own.

In regards to the current situation at hand, with nearly everything surrounding the HQ going haywire, Juniper decided to take the best and most useful course of action he could. He sat in his favorite chair, and flicked through some of his favorite journals. The blonde never got tired of rereading his writing, and he even laughed at the jokes he made for himself around a whole year ago. He was truly the most fascinating person he'd ever met. There were some people he liked, or even just kept an eye on in the HQ, however it was usually difficult for someone to catch his attention... Though most of the time nobody wants his attention. If he likes someone or thinks they are capable enough, he will pester them with requests, or "fun side quests" as he calls them. The requests themselves are typically of the outlandish and dangerous sort.

After a few minutes, and another round of lightning, Jun's leg fell asleep. He decided that it was about time for him to go for a stroll around the HQ, preferably through the areas that would be empty due to the current state of affairs. Everyone was doing their best to hold down the fort, but there he was being his typical lazy self... Well, he had more important matters to attend to, like figuring out what made the Angels tick. Surely without him nobody would be making any advancements in regards to the mysterious creatures. He would like to think so at least.

With a sigh, Jun wrapped an emerald blanket around his shoulders. It would be chilly walking through the regular wings during the storm and outages. He closed his door tightly on the way out, not bothering to instill a locking mechanism. He knew that nobody would be crazy enough to poke around at the things in there, and besides, it wasn't like he had anything to hide. On occasion, although rare, a person would "spawn" nearby and take it upon themselves to enter his quarters, making themselves at home in the process. It wasn't particularly hard to get them to leave, especially after explaining that all the Angel parts floating about were not props.

Throughout his walk, Jun would hear various sounds, and see various people running around shouting orders. It wasn't any of his concern, so he stood to the sides. Some of them gave him weird looks, most likely wondering why he was walking through the place like a lost puppy. If he was a good samaritan he would be helping out like the rest of the HQ's inhabitants. It always fascinated Jun to see the people scrambling to secure their base. People desperately wanted a place to call their home. Of course he himself was no exception, otherwise he would tear down his whole room.

The rec room, a place Jun didn't typically visit, was coming up on his right. He thought now would be a calm time to check it out, and potentially see if anyone added anything new of interest.
"Boring. Too boring." He deadpanned once entering. The room was exactly as it had been several months ago. The only thing new were a plethora of boxes stacked in the back storage corner... Upon further inspection, the boxes weren't even stacked straight, and a lot had fallen over. Crates were smashed, and the area was a mess. Curious, he stepped closer to the wreckage.

'What do we have here...' Jun thought, eyes landing on an obvious newcomer. The guy looked like he had taken quite the tumble on his way into the Afterlife. He looked around, and decided to give his blanket up for the greater good.
"Oy, wakey wakey." He clapped his hands near the man's ears. Jun was surprised that all the thunder and screeching wasn't enough to get him up. Perhaps he had a concussion from the fall?
"Maybe I should kill you... That way I can simultaneously explain the situation, and rid you of your bruisings... Hmm, decisions..."

Bang Bang · Jan 7, 2018

Examiner Notes: Possibly worth reading both sections for everyone, though I've tagged folks in the sections that are most relevant to them.

the construct: Tagging: Kabboom Trappy LuciTheGreat haydenly1633 TheCrowKing Weaknees
Location: The Elevator Shaft
OOC: Angels and their actions can be narrated by players as they wish, with the exceptions of declaring them 'dead'. As a guide for their actions? Assume they are here to kill the lot of you.

As the arrivals draw to a close and the lights on the Construct flicker on, the storm overhead abates, calms, to the point where it seems to be subsiding. One final crack of lightning; The Elevator shaft seems to explode with it. The anachronistic device - something of the old mining days slapped among the halls of advanced tech of the 24th century - sluices down its cables, pulleys sparking as they spin with friction. The metal cage drops to the floor, kicking up a cloud of dust and sand from outdoors in the faces of those stationed close.

For a moment, there's quiet. The doors of the elevator hang off their hinged, battered in, but no Angels dwell inside.

A fluttering sound, the stirring of wings, parts through the dust. A murmuring, half purr, half static, stirs from up the shaft. The experienced know this sound; As they know it always does, it is soon followed by a skull-splitting shriek. Talons grind sparks across the roof of the damaged elevator, wings jostle one another for room. Three triplet Angels tumble in, fighting for space, before fixating on those closest to them.

They have the heads of the two closest the shaft severed from their torsos in seconds. A 'common' subtype of Angels, these are the form that gave the flyers their name. Shimmering, luminescent, silver-white, they are beautiful, or would be if they were not so closely associated with death, searing pain, and were they not the type most common to hunting Afterlifers down actively. Great wings flaunt off their backs, making it difficult to fit into the underground labyrinth; Only one could fit down a passageway at a time, and no chance they'd fit in a maintenance shaft. Ten foot tall and equipped with razor sharp talons, and with legs like the clawed feet of birds of prey, they are lethal; During their last successful invasion of the HQ, all but twelve Afterlifers died.

The two unfortunates only serve as distraction for a moment, however. Though these Angels have no eyes, they are the one subtype with acute hearing, like the bats of Earth or the nyai of Mars. They catch wind of close by breathing, stretch their wings for a moment, and attack.

the south: Tagging: TheCrowKing
Location: The South Entrance
OOC: In this case, please don't control the Angel.

Far from the elevators, it was the weather, not the angels causing hardships for the Afterlifers. Despite the best efforts of Arian, a good half of the food supplies grown in the greenhouse are crushed beyond repair. It is thanks to him, however, that when the last wing of the greenhouses collapses in synchronization with the final lightning strike, that not all has been lost.Though most of the salvage is damaged, that which can't be rejuvenated will at least serve to offer seeds, a resource the Afterlifers have been running dangerously low on.

On the plus side, it seems as always, the Angels are unaware of this entrance. Though no one knows exactly where they hail from, they always fixated on the elevator shaft, the above ground buildings. The southern entrance, obscured by the cliff side in which the cave entrance sits, has thus far remained undetected - or at least, never before have the Angels pursued entry via its easy access.

The storm overhead rolls out its last rumble of thunder, though the rain pours thicker. Patches start to form in the cloud overhead, moonlight escaping through, giving natural illumination to the otherwise near pitch-black southern areas.

As Arian goes off in such of space to hide his efforts from the rain, something white shifts under the light of the moon in the cavern entrance. Something white and tall and bearing just one wing - no, not one wing, one complete wing. On its left shoulder, a sodden clump of feathers and cartilage juts out as its full right wing scraps against the walls, the Angel dragging itself inwards. A shattered razor-jag of glass from the greenhouse sits pierced through its upper chest, caught betwixt its shoulder.

It cannon see where it is going. But it can hear Adrian.

It follows.

Seascaped · Jan 8, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: JINX

Location: Jinx Sleeping Chamber, Generator Room
Examiner Notes: I love Jinx so much already.

Classified
Green-grey eyes flew open as a deafening sound echoed its way through the base hallways and found its way to an afterlifer’s room. She had been sound asleep for the past few hours despite the noise and chaos going on around her. Years at HQ will do things to a person, one of which was the ability to sleep through the frequent scraping and banging noises typical of angels and newcomers. She no longer bothered greeting the newly dead, because she never had anything good to say and usually was asked to leave the scene due to her particularly uplifting remarks. She figured the poor souls were already crying anyways, she might as well use the time to tell them the truth of the situation. Hey kids, you’ve smashed your way to an underground bunker where you will likely stay forever and be so miserable you wish you were dead. But fun fact, you’re already dead, so feel free to shut up and suffer with the rest of us because it doesn’t get better than this. This may or may not have been an actual conversation Jinx had with a couple of teens who had catapulted their way into the afterlife last week.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes once more, Jinx rolled onto her side and tucked the blankets of her bed back up around her neck nice and cozy like. Should she be more concerned about the angels beating against the compound? Definitely. But it happens so often that these five more minutes of precious sleep would be worth every moment before she would likely have to face the rain and the cold and the strain that come along with keeping this crapshoot functional. Her bed felt so cozy though. Jinx had managed to create for herself one of the most comfortable beds at the compound by stuffing a makeshift mattress with angel wing feathers. Maybe it was a little morbid, but nothing makes for sounder sleep than laying in the squishy nest of your dead enemies. She had fought a couple of afterlifers for this bed before. Her one prized possession was this damned mattress and the sleep she would happily experience upon it. What woke her up after all? Oh, that’s right, that ungodly sound.

The sound. Jinx suddenly came to her senses and swung upright, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she scanned her room. That noise hadn’t been from angels or newcomers. And it had been LOUD. As in, explosion loud. Clamoring out of bed, Jinx grabbed her belt of knives from beside her bed and began attaching it to her waist. After that was the lineup of sheathes she kept running down both legs and one arm. That’s the thing about throwing knives at angels, you don’t often get them back. And finally, for the most important touch, she strapped her giant trusty cleaver to her back, which was affectionately named Chester the Molester. But she just calls him Chester for short. For Jinx, it was a little bit like having a pet that you take care of back in life. She keeps him clean, sharpens him, and takes him everywhere she goes. His handle is pink.

Darting out of her room, Jinx’s lungs filled with the smell of burnt… something. Some kind of burnt hair electric smell that caused her to gag. Looking for the source, she began sprinting through hallways on the lookout for smoke or some sign of explosion. Jinx was by no means an electrician. Or really mechanically savvy in any way, seeing as she spent most of her time outside or playing with knives. So, when it came to guessing where an electrical fire would come from she didn’t have a clue where to begin her search, only that she needed to follow the horrible smell and general direction of the bang. Most of the halls were deserted, likely most people had already gone to help with the incoming angels. Not surprisingly Jinx ran past Juniper at some point, who appeared to be taking his sweet time walking through HQ as usual. She rolled her eyes and stopped herself from pushing him out of her way and pissing him off. As much as she wanted to, Jinx didn’t have time for his crap right now.

Finally, down a few more hallways, Jinx spotted some black smoke hovering near the ceiling. She was near the generator room. Shaking her head and sprinting towards the dank old room just around the corner, her thoughts turned to Addison and the possibility of what would be behind the door. Thick black smoke was seething from the cracks. The air smelled putrid. Jinx held her arm up to her mouth and face to protect herself from the smoke before using a thick leather boot to kick in the door. Smoke and ash poured out into the hallway with a sigh, and Jinx’s white blonde hair filled with black. As the smoke began to clear, she stepped cautiously into the squarely built room. Up against the far wall was a body, skin charred a collage of reds and blacks, and covered in blood that was pooling on the rough cement flooring. Jinx cursed and coughed as she said a silent prayer to whatever demon ran this world that the body was already dead. She hoped whoever it was could start healthy and new again and wasn’t suffering. But apparently that was too much to ask, because as Jinx approached the body she could see the chest moving with sporadic, shallow breathing. And worse, upon closer examination of the body and the red pieces of hair that were left, Jinx’s previous hunch was correct. The mangled body belonged to Addison.

Jinx knelt to shake Addison awake, who was quite unconscious. Removing her hands from Addison’s shoulders, they came off red, warm and sticky.

“Damn it, Addison!”

Jinx pulled up the wounded girl’s arm and swung it around her neck, supporting the rest of the body with an arm around Addison’s waist. A weak head lolled forward, and Jinx pulled Addison out of the generator room and into the hallway, feet dragging behind.

“Medic!”, Jinx screeched between her own coughs. An even louder scratching noise sounded from above as angels continued their usual shit. Everyone else was a little too preoccupied at the moment to hear calls for a medic. She drudged Addison as far from the generator room as she could so the smoke would stop being so much of a nuisance. In the middle of an empty hallway, Jinx laid Addison down on the floor. She turned back to look where they had come from, and realized the trail of smeared blood they left behind, as well as the red stains covering her own clothes, hands, and neck. Addison had lost way too much blood, her skin was going to scar beyond any kind of repair and would take agonizing months to heal, and her legs surely were broken at the very least, not to mention the possibility of nerve damage, concussion, and just overall pain everywhere. Jinx got up and ran to the nearest bed chamber, grabbing a pillow and pitcher of water. Returning to the floor with Addison, she stuffed the pillow under Addison’s oddly angled legs to elevate them in an attempt to get some blood to the brain. Jinx readied the water pitcher, splashing Addison in the face to see if she would wake.

She needed to know if Addison wanted to fight through her injuries or end the suffering and die. She had to ask Addison if she wanted Jinx to kill her.

Kabboom · Jan 8, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: JEANETTE

Location: Elevator Shaft, Main Generator Room
Examiner Notes: shooty bois

Classified
As the duo of unlikely work partners complete their descent down from the maintenance shaft mostly unharmed, with Jeanette suffering from a blunt trauma-induced headache, as a result of her rifle snagging on a fusebox, combined with her descending a tad bit too fast, resulting in the rifle's barrel flying up to hit her in the head. A terrible misfortune, but compared to the adrenaline mixed with high levels of stress in her body, this was the least of her worries.

The near pitch blackness of the hallway leading up to the Elevator made it tough for all of the defenders to effectively do their job, but it seems that Alexei's work has helped the situation somewhat, as the secondary generator, the one in charge of the emergency light system, has kicked into full gear, and the entire hallway is now illuminated with a dim, flickering line of fluorescent lights.

With a thundering crash, the elevator connects with the floor, its cables and brakes having given way to the terrors above. Jeanette positions herself leaning against one of the walls within the tight confines of the hallway, her rifle clutched tightly in hand, her eyes peeping through the iron sights, ready to shoot the blasted things as soon as they reveal themselves. Based on her past experiences, never will an Angel go down with just one shot to the head. The principle to dealing with Angels is, 'the more the merrier'. More guns, more bullets, quicker Angel kills.

As she impatiently refrained from squeezing the trigger when the first pair of wings busted through the ceiling of the elevator, Jeanette's entire body begun vibrating uncontrollably. The stress in her, along with her adrenaline, is beginning to visibly affect her. As two of the nearest guards curiously approach the wings, she could only manage a pathetic yelp, saying "Don't come close!" just in time for the two to have their heads severed completely, as the Angels broke down, and begun their blinded, slightly-inconvenienced blood rage.

Her trigger finger instantly squeezing inwards, a bullet left the barrel of her Kar98k as soon as the first Angel showed its face, piercing it rather satisfyingly through its right eye, leaving an ugly mark. She begun to cycle the bolt, ready for another round, when one of the Angels begun making a beeline towards her, oriented by the deafening sound of the rifle, shrugging off the small arms fire from the others. Her fingers fumbled and panicked, as she begun to mentally prepare herself for the pain of death.

The Angel was finally stopped, however, as a flurry of rifle rounds pierced its wings, grounding it. The life-saving bullets had come from Alexei, who was now running backwards, with Jeanette on his shoulder. The action was swift, and seamless, much so that it caught the girl off-guard, as her legs simply questioned why they could no longer feel the ground beneath them. A wave of mixed anger, confusion washed over her, along with a slight rush of the blood to her cheeks, as she could feel an unusually warm sensation resembling a hand's tight grip, precariously close to her left derriere.

"H-Hey, lemme go! The Angels are that way!" Jeanette had no idea where this Russian was taking her. He of all people would know that, even in confined quarters, Afterlifers cannot outrun Angels. The ironic twist of whatever unholy force that created the Afterlife in the first place, none can truly escape the grip of the Angels of death, returning them to the cycle from which they emerged, and from which they will never be able to escape.

Trappy · Jan 8, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: ALEXEI

Location: Elevator Shaft, Main Generator Room
Examiner Notes: pewpew

Classified
With a lift of a lever, there's light. The emergency light system slowly lights up the hallway they were in. The fuse holds, and that means it's not just the emergency lights, but some other facilities will be also be available for the Afterlifters to make it through the night. Alexei is happy that he helped. He feels proud. He admits that helping the community with little things like this is by far one of the few joy he can find in the harsh reality he had been thrown into. However, it seems he's allowed no time for celebration or break.

His sigh of relief is cut short as the elevator drops to the ground with a clap of thunder, sending dust and sand their ways, but most certainly it sends the unfortunates near the shaft into a state of extra caution. Alexei stares at the metal cage, old and broken. Now fixing that thing will be one hell of a job - Somehow, the thought crosses his mind first. But like the lead runner of a marathon race, it brings with it other thoughts as well, and they all rush into his sleep-deprived brain at once. Though one thing is clear for Alexei, for he knew only too well what would follow - they are coming, and what follows only verify his fear.

The magnificent, outlandishly beautiful creatures that would come to disturb Alexei in the nights, there they are, before Alexei's eyes. At first, he thought he would grow used to them. After all, common sense, you gotta get used to them, eventually, right? It didn't take him long to come to believe otherwise. Even in the most pleasant dreams of his memories, they still come, in the most brutal, haunting and bizarre ways. For long, he has become terrified of the beautiful creatures they ironically named "Angels". Alexei knows that his fear of Angel attacks worsen by the nights, especially during the storms. He hates them. His hate for them is pure. And the more he fears them, the more he hates them. And so, there's another joy for Alexei in the Afterlife: Blasting Angels, hacking them to bits, no matter how much hard it may be. He enjoys the little pleasure, even when his effort may be futile. He has grown used to futility, the Angels in his dreams never die anyway.

"Don't come close!" His partner let out a panicked yelp as the two guards closer to the elevator shaft get their heads ripped off from their torso. Panic spreads, and Alexei feels it immediately. Chyort, I must run. He knows Afterlifters have little chance outrunning the Angels, but what choices are there? The Angels' presence and their blood rage only rushes the adrenaline in his body. Alexei turns to look down the dimly lit hallway. He considers his chances.

A loud POP - a bullet leaves Jeanette's Kar98k and finds its destination: the closest Angel's face. The creature staggers, before entering some sort of frenzy and starts diving straight at the duo. We must get out. To...somewhere! Anywhere but here! NOW! RUN!

"A, blyad . . ." Alexei mumbled. As fast as he burly physics allows, he lifts up the nimble girl with one swift action, and place her over his left shoulder. At the same time, he fires a volley with his G3 from his hip. The rifle recoils violently. All his shots hit the charging Angel's wings, and the intense stopping power forces the ferocious creature to back down. The other ones look to be too occupied with the other guards to notice them. Here's their chance. Wasting no time, the man fixes his rifle, before high-tailing in the opposite direction, down the hallway. His mind spins for a solution, a destination, something.

"H-Hey, lemme go! The Angels are that way!" Jeanette suddenly exclaimed, after she had seemingly digested their situation, slightly spooking the spooked Russian man. Wait . . . Opa! That's right, Jeanette!

Alexei carries the girl on his shoulder down the hallways, all the way until they reach the main generator room, where he notices a bit of smoke and dust. He doesn't know what caused all those however, as he is too busy catching his breath, with his head immediately finds rest on a nearby wall.

The man and his rifle leans onto the wall, and Alexei explains himself. "The main generator is out . . . b . . . but once it's on! Your traps! They should work, right?! That will give us more chances with those winged devils!"

"Ah, a-alright! I'll cover you, just do it quick, mes ami!" -Says Jeanette, as she sets off to secure the perimeter surrounding the generator room. Meanwhile, Alexei knows what he has to do. Inside the somewhat wrecked generator room, he finds the tools he needs to hopefully get the main generator working. As of what wrecked the room, Alexei has no clue, he's too busy for guesses anyway. He feels a bit overwhelmed by the task at hand, but he must give it his best. "Here we go." - He mumbled to himself. Fortunately for him, Alexei had a few talks with the full-timer engineer, Addison, during his occasional shifts. Speaking of Addison, where the hell is that fella when the generator is all broke down like this?!

"ADDISON?!"

The sudden scream makes the Russian jump, his hand unknowingly knocking some of the tools off the cramped desk. He curses, before realising that was Jeanette. Then it came to him - Alexei might have guessed what happened to the missing engineer.

Aratani · Jan 8, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To: B Bangbang

RE: TOMAS BARTOSZ

Location: The East Entrance.
Examiner Notes: ayy gotta jump in sometime lol

Classified
"It's been a...while!", Tomas muttered to himself, trying to make these words sound convincing enough. Five years have passed since he left HQ, and to come back now, while it is raining, people falling from the sky, Angels showing up...that feels like plain cowardice. Though in no way it is, as in five years it rained, people fell and angels have appeared. That's how it's always been, in fact. His coming back had nothing to do with the night, the dead or the monsters, nothing to do with bravery or comradery, even though he would need to rely a bit on that last point.

He was absolutely soaked, his body dirty, his face restless. He trembled until falling in the metal walls, fingers slowly typing and entering every single password for the East entrance; every one of them correct. "I just...want to help!", he said to himself only to be followed by a sigh. It didn't sound like something he would say or that anyone at HQ would believe. That is, if the people at HQ were still the ones he remembered. They did have all of eternity to live together, but he figured sooner or later they would leave, just as he did. He graced the yellow paint with the palm of his hands, reminiscing of when it was fresher, newly painted. That was a while ago.

"Five years? I thought it was five days!", he tried once again. Time was a skewed perception there, truly; but not to him, and people knew that. He kept his journal updated, every word written down, he knew exactly for how long he's been dead, how long he hasn't seen his daughter. The metal wall swifly jumped up, a small gust of wind adding onto the freezing sensation on his legs, and he walked onwards, towards the old HQ he knew. The corridors painted a picture in his head, one of friendship, resilience and strenth. "It doesn't matter, does it?", and that bit was the only one that did feel truly convincing.

HUBRlS · Jan 8, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: Rhea Dianopolous

Location: Bed Chambers
Examiner Notes: Hello everyone ! Hope I can wiggle in effectively

Classified
Though this was not necessarily the kind of environment that fostered distrust amongst other people, especially since everyone was thrust into this situation with the help of divine provenance and working together (ironically) for their life's sake, Rhea often found herself trying to hoard some things back in her room like a dog hunting for bones. Rhea's bones were parts for guns, an array of which could be found anywhere from HQ, to the bodies outside that didn't make it, to the back pockets of living people working right next to her. Her pick pocketing had now become an unfortunate and embarrassing habit, but on nights like these where the sound prohibited shut-eye she could mess around with her weapons. Though she had considered that maybe she should look around and examine the source of these noises she chose to instead trinket with one of the objects right under her pillow, pulling it apart and putting it back together with expert ease, trying to fit in extra objects where she could. What she held in her hand was a micro 9, perfect for her tiny hand. She zoned in and out of consciousness as she worked, not even acknowledging her environment until someone crashed into her chambers.

It was Jinx, a body as of now unrecognizable slung over her shoulder and dripping. Rhea sat with her back straight and pointed the gun automatically, but she didn't look much like a fighter with her legs crossed in bed. "Wh-" Her mouth opened and closed, brain and body working clumsily together to put the right question in order. It wasn't until she heard Medic! that she realized what had to be done.

Rhea, mind you, was no medic in the hospital sense. The most she knew to do was the home remedies she picked up from somewhere in her living life, so agonizing to be unknown. She sprung up and rushed over to the body now sitting in the bed. "What can I do?" She asked Jinx, already looking for a piece of cloth to stop any bleeding. Her mind's eye turned to olive oil instinctively. Maybe I'm Greek? she thought, and though it was funny internally she could feel her heart flutter in her throat as she attempted to stop the bleeding.

"Is it angels?" She asked Jinx, her voice dripping with dismay. She was kneeling by the bed as she asked and looked up at Jinx as if supplicating, begging for it not to be true. She was one of the newest here, and by far one of the people with the least heart for this action.

Seascaped · Jan 8, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: JINX

Location: Hallway near Generator Room, Approaching Elevator Shaft
Examiner Notes: YOUVE BEEN CHESTERED

Classified
Water dripped down Addison’s scarred, reactionless face. She wouldn’t wake. Jinx shook her by the shoulders, patted her face, and nothing was causing even a spark of consciousness. The poor engineer must have lost far too much blood, there was no medic around, and even if there was there would be months of pain to follow if she was helped. Meanwhile, Addison laid there suffering the longer Jinx took to decide what to do. Jinx remained crouched, and with a long sigh decided what needed to be done.

She hated this. Out of all the hell she had experienced in the afterlife, one of the most brutal parts for Jinx was killing another soul. Sure, they would wake up healthy in the next room, so what should be the problem? Jinx still had to murder a person, even if it was out of mercy. She could feel what was left of her humanity draining each time she had to kill someone. Just another reminder that what she was experiencing every single day wasn’t real life. She wasn’t alive, or really human anymore. Jinx was a dead, worthless piece of meat that would never find peace, happiness, or a place to truly rest. The cycle of hell would continue no matter what she did or how hard she tried, and she was about to throw the poor wounded girl on the floor back into that cycle again. The whole process of how things were done in the afterlife was disgusting, and unfortunately Jinx had to be a part of it.

Jinx searched her array of knives, mulling over what would be the fasted, most painless way to end Addison’s life. She wasn’t carrying a gun, so the options being considered were slitting her throat, a blade through the heart, or to just cleave her head off entirely. She didn’t know the girl very well, so it’s not exactly like she knew what her death preference was. I mean, she ends up the same way no matter how it’s done, right? Jinx pondered how she would want to be killed if she were in this situation, and ultimately decided to go for the more dramatic effect of a beheading. If she has to die anyways, at least she will be able to tell her friends a great story. Besides, that’s what Jinx would want.

She reached behind her and took Chester out of his back strap. This likely wouldn’t be the only blood he would spill today. Taking careful aim and raising the cleaver above her head, Jinx brought the enormous blade down hard with a thunk and a splatter. If Jinx wasn’t covered in enough blood before, she certainly was now as she wiped it out of her eyes. She jimmied the cleaver out of the nick in the floor it had made between the head and body. Thankfully, Addison’s eyes never opened during the whole ordeal, because that may have perturbed even this grimy blonde. She stood up straight and looked down at her work, wondering how long it would take the body to disappear and regenerate back in bed, and if Addison would ever know it was even Jinx who chopped her head off. She wiped the blood off Chester and onto her pants, and almost cut herself when she was startled by a scream out of nowhere.

“Addison?!” she heard in the scream.

Jinx turned around quickly to see a brunette girl with a big-ass-gun, staring in horror at the mess Jinx had just made.
Jinx stood up quickly and glared at Jeanette.

“Well, if I had known I was going to have an audience, I wouldn’t have been quite so…” Jinx glanced down at the bloody mess on the ground,

“graphic”. Jinx sheathed Chester so that only his pink handle was sticking out from her back strap, and then started walking towards the direction of the elevator shaft. She must have been quite the sight, like an ax murderer from some horror film that the living have to watch to get scared on purpose.

“Now that the screaming appears to be done for both of us, I’m going to find me some angels that are probably on their way to this hallway as we speak. I’m sure the words ‘medic’ and ‘Addison’ have never sounded so tantalizing to them.” Jinx muttered in Jeanette’s direction as she sauntered off to go prepare herself for a mini winged war.

haydenly1633 · Jan 8, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: JACKSON

Location: Elevator Shaft
Examiner Notes: So much going on at once :D

ClassifiedJackson's blonde hair swung around as she ducked out of the way of a piece of flying metal. Shit. This is how I'm gonna die for the third time, was all she could think, screeches ringing around her as the winged things came down the elevator shaft and through where the elevator door used to be. As the Angels appeared in all their terrifying glory, the first thing they did was behead two of the people closest to the elevator. It was like the world went silent for a second. Then Jackson groaned as noises erupted around her again: screeching, yelling, gun shots . She focused her gun on a Angel that was looking at her, but not seeing her, and pulled the trigger. The damn thing moved at the very last second, causing the bullet to take a rather large hole out of it's cheek instead. Now the thing was just even more pissed, scrambling around to find her. Jackson glanced around quickly, watching in shock others started to run. That wasn't going to do much good until the traps could come back online. She glanced down at the gun in her hand. She really freaking needed a bigger gu-

Something slid suddenly into her feet, almost causing her to lose her balance. She gripped the wall tightly to keep from falling and cursed, looking down at what had betrayed her. Like her prayer had been answered by whatever god they believed in, one of the headless bodies had been pushed towards her in the scuffle of Angels and the people like her. Crouching, she quickly ripped the large semi automatic from the dead hands, silently promising to return it when they reappeared, and flipped it up quickly toward the pack of Angels aggressing on the people near them. She fired multiple shots into the crowd of Angels before ducking down again, taking a little cover to get the gun back in order. She couldn't outrun the things; she might as well fight until either they died or she did. That's not really the best option here, she reminded herself quickly, aiming for the Angels again after arranging a better grip on the weapon. Just because she would just wake up in a little while, alive and well, didn't mean that it didn't hurt like a bitch when she died.

The damn white things in front of her just needed to meet their maker. And Jackson was prepared to arrange that meeting.

TheCrowKing · Jan 8, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: Rosencrantz

Location: Rec Room
Examiner Notes: (OOC Here)

ClassifiedDeath wasn’t the pleasant slumber everyone prayed it would be in Heaven wasn’t guaranteed. There weren’t any deceased family members welcoming you into the paradise of the Afterlife, no cherubs serving up wine and bestowing upon you a pair of fluffy white wings. Hell, there wasn’t even Mr. Holier-Than-Thou there to tell you you’ve done screwed up, go directly to Hell without collecting your two hundred. It was a complete and utter rip-off.

No, what they don’t want you to know, it that Death is like molten tar, clinging to every last inch of your body with a scorching intensity. It was thick and heavy, encasing the unlucky soul in an eternal shell of misery. Not only did it burn the flesh, but it was suffocating in every possible way. No movement, lungs caught in exhalation, screaming in agony for the air that wasn’t their concern any more. Poor things didn’t know it, their brain not registering that they’d hadn’t needed air for days, months, decades, perhaps. Yet, no matter how long you’d been there, the body yearned for what it could no longer have: Life.

Thoughts would on occasion would rise like ice cubes to the surface, a brief moment of being able to put a word to his damnation before it melted away, lost to the darkness again as you squirmed like a worm. Memories? Nothing, absolutely and utterly nothing. They didn’t exist, long since eaten by the Afterlife like a delicacy until your mind was a dry soda cup, the last little drop slurped up the bendy straw and directly into the mouth of Death; It delighted her, so it seemed. She’d watch the agony from the corners of this plane of existence, those little spaces that shouldn’t exist, it just simply shouldn’t. But you knew, oh you knew that her jagged-mouth grin gleamed wickedly in the darkness. You knew, because there couldn’t be such a horrendous place without someone taking pride in making it that way. At least, you thought that was the case, for this was only the waiting room until the real show was open for business. And that, was now.

A breath slid into that still ribcage, the first breath a knife to the abdomen as it worked on the dead bronchi and alveoli. From there, iced AB negative blood made it’s first circulation, through the ventricles, atriums, and body until finally, the heart seemed to have some recollection of its former duties, little by little a shade of coloring appearing on the man’s cheeks. Throat though parched and aching from its lack of use, spat up a coughing groan as his brain went through its own little reboot.

Blanket kissing his tanned, bare skin, it sent off a million tingling fireworks across his body. The strange sensation jolted the freshly dead, sparking a choppy thought as a pinprick of unknowing tugged at his gut, urging him to shrink under the blanket. It was something strange, different but not exactly foreign.

‘There was something, something…What is it? It’s not like the Dark..but…more so..’

A sound like that of a billion footsteps clattered against his eardrums, what in actuality was a clap, earning Jun a hissed cry of shock as the once still body lurched itself from beneath his hands. It appeared that he was ignoring the pricks and pokes of wood and plastic slicing into his skin as they jumped back in fright, chest heaving as the sudden reality of something besides the blackness surrounding him.

Looking back at Jun, was a very much so startled man, the blanket he had given up was hazardously having from one shoulder as he had flown back into another crate. Wild brown hair peppered with wooden shards, one lock looked oddly out of place, a dainty pink among the chocolate ever so neatly tucked behind his ear. The man’s head was whirling about in a frenzy, never quite settling on a particular spot as colors and shapes gradually began to fill in. It was only when the large, luminous amber eyes fell upon Jun did the man cease his confuzzled scramble, now merely returning his gaze with a lost look of his own.

TheCrowKing · Jan 12, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: Arian

Location: GreenHouse. Moving towards Southern Entrance
Examiner Notes: (OOC Here)

ClassifiedTrowel biting the earth, Arian deposited several scoops of dirt aside, judging it more time efficient to dig them all before placing the crops back into the soil. Moving among the crop beds, he sighed and wiped his brow of sweat, smearing the wet earth in varying areas of his face. If one were to walk in on him at this time, they’d be inclined to believe he was a wildman. Face smeared in mud and ground-up plant matter, Arian’s hair was soaked and plastered to his head, he working as though compelled by some un-earthly force. As he cupped his hand into the hole, pulling away some of the piles, a drop or two of blood leaked from a gash near his eye, dotting the soil crimson.

“About right that none of the others could spare someone to help me here.” He whispered to the flora around him, dragging his arm across his dripping nose. “They get so damn worked up over those beasts that they don’t take a moment to worry about anything else. Oh hey! The computers and other electronics are on the fritz! The generator is making a clunky noise, eh. Who cares?” The male snorts and tosses his hands into the air, gesturing to the area around him as he went on about his little rant. “You know, the greenhouses are utterly destroyed and about two-thirds of our food is gone. Meh, how about we switch over to our meat diet. Oh wait- “Arian spat, plunging his trowel into his back pocket for later purposes. “We don’t fudging have any! This whole time we’ve been here, we’ve been having to survive like rabbits!!”

The gardener stood to glance sideways at the other crops that were being invaded by the newcomers, spying a few that he might as well bring in with him. “I guess they’re having potato soup tonight. A very watery one.” He rubbed his face in attempt to calm himself down, knowing his spike in attitude was due to that fact that he surely didn’t want to be outside when those things are roaming. A shiver went up the male’s spine, he batting away the mental image of them as he began to work again, pulling up the fruits of the earth and placing them into the crates.

Though there were a decent amount of ripe vegetables, it didn’t take Arian long to pick what he could to add to the crates that would accompany him back into the base. “I’ll probably have to inform George of this, least everyone storms the kitchen for the rest of the food. Not like I could ever stop them.” Sighing softly, he shook his head and gathered up the crates, making certain to close the greenhouse doors tightly, padlocking them behind him.

Grunting as he lifted two of the four crates, his feet carried him towards the southern entrance, placing them close enough that he could safely get all four inside the elevator. There was absolutely no way he’d leave them behind with how little he was able to scavenge. Yet, as he was finally seeming to calm down, heart’s thundering gradually easing, the male turned just in time to be blinded by a great arc of lightning, it followed by a deafened boom. The odds that this would happen…that it would get this much worse were so tiny, so miniscule, that he couldn’t believe his eyes; It took him several moments to blink back his disbelief before he let loose a wail of despair. The greenhouse, the final one standing against the grey sky, had crumbled under the force of the lightning, nothing more than a smoldering heap of construct.

In his disbelief, he had dropped the two crates he had carried, rushing back towards the lost building to see if there was any way he might be able to move it. Upon reaching the greenhouse, his pride, he couldn’t help but cover his mouth to suppress a horrible cry, a few heavy tears running between his fingers as he shook his head. “N-no..” He sobbed, choking as his throat constricted with grief. All that he had done, the only thing that he could ever provide to the Afterlifers was gone, squashed by whatever force control this hell. This time, as a cry rose from his throat, he didn’t bother to hide it, matching the volume of the wind. “WHY!? WHY THE HELL?” He bellowed, reaching up to tug at his damp hair. “THAT’S ALL WE HAD!” The gardener was absolutely a mess, shaking his head at the sight before him; He didn’t want to believe it, but, how couldn’t he? It was lying before him, crushed.

‘We’ve all truly gone to Hell. This is it, right here.’

With shaky hands, he stopped to gather one of the spared crates, the other currently roasting under a flaming beam. It took all he had to gather that final crate, he more so wanting to throw his pathetic self into the fire and rubble so that he didn’t have to face the others, their looks of disappointment, fury, fear. Another wave of tears overcame him as he trudged towards the entrance, radiating sorrow with each step he took, oblivious to the monster approaching him.

Weaknees · Jan 12, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

TheCrowKing

RE: JUNIPER

Location: Rec room
Examiner Notes: Jun x Everyone fam

ClassifiedJun couldn't help but smirk as the man jumped back. The situation seemed very comical. He took the opportunity to get a closer look at him, noticing the odd strand of pink in his hair... 'Too bad he won't be able to remember the story behind that right away haha.' He thought. It probably wouldn't be outlandish for him to think that maybe the guy was in a rebellious phase? He looked rather young, so maybe he was in his early twenties and changed his image for college? Whatever the reason it was certainly an interesting choice. While his eyes were fixed upon his hair, Jun also noticed the various pieces of wood that got messily jumbled up in it. A pair of lost eyes met his light and playful ones, and Jun found his mischievous smirk morph into a soft, sad smile. The brunette appeared to not hear what Jun had previously said, for better or potentially for worse.

"You see... Welcome to the Afterlife. If you call it Heaven, you clearly don't remember what Heaven is supposed to be. If you call it Hell, well I'm betting Hell would be worse, anyway... Enchanté, I'm your host, Juniper Auclair." He bent over slightly, and began picking out the wood pieces from the brunette's hair. Thinking of him as 'that guy,' or 'this brunette,' clearly wasn't going to cut it forever.
"Do you remember your name? It can be tough at first." Jun extended a hand, gesturing that he would help him up. Looking at the man it reminded him of the first time he woke up in the Afterlife. Juniper's eyes flickered to a hazy gaze for a split second.

Floating, fluffy, warmth. It extended throughout everywhere. Every fiber, every molecule. It was alright for him at the time. He knew what was coming, and as long as he had... Wait... Had who? The light was fading. The warmth was on the brink of extinction. What was light? What was darkness? His hand reached out like a cliche, desperately reaching for the light on the horizon, as he was falling. Things turned hazy. Swirly. Who was the warmth? It felt foreign. Things felt wrong. 'Remember. Remember. Remember.' He had awoken to such thoughts swirling in his head. 'Remember,' they echoed. No matter how many Angels he killed, he couldn't remember what he was supposed to. Only the warmth came back. The only place he could experience such warmth was through the memory. Sunlight. It wasn't the same. Grass. It wasn't the same... Living? It was a joke. Nobody knew what it meant to be alive anymore.

He snapped out of the thoughts.
"I've been here for longer than you have of course... So feel free to ask any questions... It's not like I'm going out of my way or anything. I wouldn't normally do this, so consider yourself lucky to talk to me." The smirk returned. Maybe such an expression meant that he was laying the façade on thicker than usual. Maybe it just meant he was silly and liked to joke around. Maybe it meant both. Part of him hoped that the brunette would be interested in the same things he was. Nobody at the HQ ever understood Jun... It seemed like they didn't want to. They saw him as a c r a z y guy who did crazy things. Granted, they were hitting the mark pretty closely. He's done the math, and has died/killed himself approximately 74 times. Just a rough guess...

In the back of his mind, buried deep, deep, deep down... There was a thought. It was very subconscious. He wanted a friend, but didn't acknowledge it.

Kabboom · Jan 16, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: JEANETTE

Location: Main Generator Room
Examiner Notes: the post is here bois

Classified
Jeanette was just paralyzed with shock and sadness. That was... the engineer girl. Addie, she called her. They knew each other, at least for a few days. Jeanette used to help her carry her boxes, repair tools, and whatever fancy gizmo Addison stumbled on. They used to share food, too, the dull cabbages proving to be much tastier, when eaten with company. But now, the... thing that lied before the woman, was not recognizably Addie-like. She was beheaded.

A pang of guilt and grief overwhelmed her mind for an ever so brief moment, blotting out the few sayings of the knife-girl who was responsible for the handiwork. Of course, Jeanette of all people knew that death meant virtually nothing in the Afterlife; those who die would just come back an hour later, looking ever so slightly disturbed by the immense pain that comes with 'temporary detachment'. But the girl felt that Addison didn't deserve something like this. Burnt to a crisp, and then decapitated. Addie, Addie, Addie, why did you decide to experiment on our generator in such a dire moment as this? And the blame was on Jeanette herself, too. If she hadn't insisted on fighting the Angels, if she had made like a coward and ran, maybe she could've stumbled upon her sooner than the other girl, maybe she could've given her a much more clean death. Ironically, a rifle hurts less than a knife.

But, no time to dwell on it. Addison is not gone forever. She'll just be back in an hour. It's now up to her and her peers to make sure that when she comes back, she won't just get killed again by a horde of Angels. Jeanette simply turned herself, trying not to look at what's left of the deceased engineer, and began heading towards her partner for the night, Alexei. They've already lost one engineer. She best make sure they don't lose another one. But what can she do about electric work, anyway? Not like she can shoot it dead.

"Quick, Alex, can you get it up? Addison's down and out, you're the only one who can restore electricity now." She said, before grabbing her rifle and watching the hallway. There was really nothing to watch, but it helps for both of them. At least nothing can sneak up on them. Unless Jeanette misses. But she rarely does. But it's still possible. Shut up, Jeanette. Let Jeanette do her job.

"C'mon, get it up fast, Alexei! We don't have all night!" She rushed Alexei. The sooner the electricity gets restored, the quicker her system of booby traps can be put back into action. And those traps are possibly the only thing that can save the base from a full-fledged Angel bloodbath.

Trappy · Jan 16, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

RE: ALEXEI

Location: Main Generator Room
Examiner Notes: this is the ooc :OOOOOO

Classified
Alexei works on the generator as the yelling outside gets ever louder. Men and women of the Militants, as well as volunteers barking orders and reports back and forth. Just a few Angels won't require general quarters, but the night is young, and those beasts have found an entry into the base. If they don't take necessary measures in time, they can expect these to be the first of many waves. Speaking of which, who knows how many casualties have mounted? Alexei tries to cleanse his mind of such worries and avoid the topic. He needs to focus on what he's doing and give it his best, the sooner the better.

Would be done by now if Addison was here, damn it. It's true that Alexei had a few talks with the engineer deployed here, she even gave the Russian a few tricks operating the generators, though you really can never list these generators, which power the entire HQ, into the 'Simple' category. Whatever she had told him, to Alexei, one touch from Addison's magic and the generators are as good as new. It is ironic, however, that the person who's most knowledgeable on the ins and outs of these generators ended up getting killed by the very machines, and so unfortunately Alexei is all by himself.

The room is dark, it reeks of smoke, dust and . . . a funny smell. Gasoline, the nemesis of the firefighters, for it is commonly favoured by pyromaniacs and arsonists alike, and so naturally, Alexei does feel uneasy working around them, despite being his usual task in the Afterlife of running around, doing maintenance work. It really baffles him. He really thought he could remedy the feeling by doing these types of work, that he would get used to it over time. In the Afterlife, they really have ALL the time in the world, literally. But, like his fear of the Angels, the uneasiness never goes away. He has to live with it now.

All these things, gasoline, smoke and dust, plus all the evidences that suggest some sort of big boom. Addison must've been experimenting something.- He figured, and it didn't take long for him to notice some difference with the second generator. Sure, it's scorched, but the modifications aren't that hard to spot for someone of Alexei's expertise. The upgrades might've helped a lot. It's a shame, a great shame that it took Addison with it. Maybe I'll stop by and offer help sometime. With the project done right, they might not need to worry and be alarmed about blackouts anymore.

Thankfully, the big boom that happened in this room spared the main generator. It's all old and cranky, even dies occasionally, but Alexei is making good progress with it, and he's going to take whatever it gives.

"Quick, Alex, can you get it up? Addison's down and out, you're the only one who can restore electricity now." - A voice sounded from the doorway behind him, alarming the Russian, until he notices that it's his partner, Jeanette. She's returned from . . . wherever she went . . . and she brought confirmation for Alexei's suspicion of Addison's situation. Poor Addison.

"I'm working on it. Should be on any moment no-" - He answers the girl, and accidentally inhales what he wagered would be a higher-than-healthy amount of smoke and gas in the air. The man coughs badly. His throat feels funny.

"C'mon, get it up fast, Alexei! We don't have all night!" - As soon as he had calmed down, he hears Jeanette again. She's clearly nervous. And her exclamation was just in time for Alexei to put her at ease. With a final tap onto the control panel, the generator, rusty as it is, slowly raises its power capacity. With the generator already diverting power to other systems across the base, there will be little left for the defensive systems. And the thing just won't reach full capacity as that is going to require a lot more work than what Alexei had done. Pressing a few buttons on the control panel, he routes all spare power towards sectors near the elevator shaft, where the Angels are making their angered assault.

"Done. Now here's your part." Alexei calls Jeanette over to the control panel, before continuing. "You know those traps better than I do. You can reroute power for some of them with these buttons. Unfortunately, we only have enough power for a few of them at a time. Here, I'll show you." He says, before guiding her through setting the traps online. Jeanette's traps will buy the some time. Some.

Vudukudu · Jan 17, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To:

haydenly1633

RE: Pax Quintilius

Location: Elevator Shaft Entrance
Examiner Notes: (OOC SPLIT YOUR LUNGS WITH BLOOD AND THUNDER)

Classified
Pax was resting when the call to arms regarding the elevator shaft was made. Unfortunately, in his case, that meant simultaneously reading while deconstructing and cleaning his left arm. The cybernetic was a strange part of his Afterlife. He had to take special care to not die somewhere not conveniently accessible. When resurrected, Pax came without a biological left arm. As best he could theorize, he'd never had one in life, and didn't receive one here either. As such, the potent combination of servos, gears, and steel hanging off his left shoulder, a limb made to shatter concrete, fell wherever he happened to die. It had to be reacquired to be reattached, a task no one was particularly eager to pursue.

The mountain of a man rapidly began putting himself back together, screwing pieces of his arm back into place until the pile of metal on the ground before him took its proper shape once more. He wasn't particularly great at this, as it was a job for two people. Only by bracing the limp limb on a surface could it be managed alone, and it was awkward and clunky as any detailed work would be with only one functioning hand. It made him late to the engagement at the elevator shaft, and when he finally arrived the place was a mess. Flurries of white wings, screams, blood spatters, and corpses filled the hall as the angels brought down a whirlwind of destruction through the crippled elevator shaft.

Pax wasn't certain what his kill count was. Frankly, whenever the damn things reached the Construct, it was hard to tell who got credit for a kill. He'd been here long enough for that to be a problem multiple times. More of the things poured out of the elevator shaft, following up their vanguard, and Pax's left arm whirred as it hefted the Ripgun into place. A row of blue lights lit up along the barrel, and a low hum filled the air as the weapon's power source engaged and the electromagnets lining the weapon's barrel turned on. The thing was made to be a stationary weapon emplacement. Pax preferred to carry it with the inhuman strength provided by his enhancement.

When the weapon was finally prepared to fire, it roared, and every Angel head in the hallway snapped towards him. Some leaped forward, scrambling along the floor or walls to reach him. Fast as they were, they weren't fast enough to get to him before the first salvo cascaded forth. Tunnels amplified sound, which was a significant issue when it came to conventional firearms. Many complained about ringing ears for days after a fight down here, and the Ripgun had been specifically modified to fire its six inch long spikes at sub-sonic speeds, to avoid breaking the sound barrier and deafening all within hearing range of it. Even so, the sharp sound of metal screeching against metal was painful enough to hear.

The spikes, simple rods of magnetized steel tapered to a point, did a gruesome sort of damage small arms could not. The first Angel to be hit reeled as the first spike shot its left wing clean off, howling as its blood sprayed forth from the wound. The next two spikes caught it in the torso, pinning it to the wall behind it as the next three shots ripped it to bloody tatters. "Fall back!" Pax bellowed, his voice resounding over the gunshots and low hum of his weapon. He knew friendly fire wouldn't truly kill anyone here, but it was certainly an unpleasant way to go, and most people were unlikely to hold any affection for you after you sawed them in half. It would also give him a clearer firing line, and get everyone else time to reload their almost certainly near-empty weaponry.

TheCrowKing · Jan 17, 2018

Incoming Report ...
To: