Fantasy YOU WERE THERE

[Tasteless]

Kylee Fey​

Location: abandoned cabin|| Mood: exhausted - stressed || Mentions: n/a|| Tags: n/a
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Her hands feebly cling to his, she can feel the sturdy hands pulling her by her shoulders. People were yelling, but she couldn't hear them. All she could see were his blue eyes, they were filled with pain and sadness as they pulled him away from her. His fingers interlaced with hers for mere seconds, before he was swept away by the military personnel. She opens her mouth yet she can't hear her own cries, as she is pulled away by the same personnel who had stolen her love. Kylee turns on one of them, her blood boiling despite the stinging tears in her eyes. She reaches up towards the mans throat, then her world goes dark.

She opens her eyes, clinging to the loose fitting shirt around her chest. Tears sting her eyes as she blinks away her dream, which was reoccurring every night. She swallows hard as she looks around the dark cabin, she can hear the faint calling of the birds in the distance. It was morning, again. A sigh shudders through her, her mind wandering back to the day. She closes her eyes, breathing deeply for a moment. If she was going to find him, she couldn't let her mind wander from her mission.

Kylee very carefully pulls herself out of the musky sheets, making her way across the cabin as she begins to reorganize her items. She had managed to gather up a decent amount of supplies, including very basic medical supplies. She shakes her head as a wave of nausea racks her body. She hesitantly pulls out an anti-nauseating medication she managed to find in an abandoned pharmacy. She swallows down one pill, shuddering softly before she continues to pack her supplies. She places the last few cans of food she had into the bag, along with antiseptic,
a few pill bottles and bandages.She finally grabs the few old water bottles she had been reusing for the last few weeks, her fingers gently squeeze the thinning plastic. She sighs, they wouldn't last much longer.

She slings her backpack over her shoulders, as she is using her nails to comb through her hair, fixing it into a loose ponytail. Her gaze catches on a small black case. Kylee slowly lowers herself onto her knees and gingerly opens the case. Inside was the last thing her husband left her before he was taken from her, a SIG Saucer p226. She carefully runs her fingers over it, feeling the cold metal that could end a life in mere seconds. She grits her teeth and lifts it out of its encasing, turning it over in her petite hands. She inhales, and checks the clip and chamber. It was prepped for anything, just like he had left it for her. She hadn't needed to use it, she preferred running and it had gotten her this far. She gently tucks it into her waistline, before placing the few other magazines into the side pocket of her bag.

As quietly as possible, she carefully unlocks and peeks out of the cabin. The rush of morning air greeted her warmly, she inhales and exhales as she glances around. The forest around the cabin was silent, as usual. She felt comforted knowing she had a weapon ready at any moment, yet she couldn't allow herself to become cocky. She shuts the cabin, bidding a silent farewell before she turns and begins to silently trek through the foliage.

code by Aukanai ​

Logan Grey ​

no slide

He feels the sand crunch under his boots, moving steadily beside his buddy. The sun beats down on them, and Logan gently runs his thumb over his rifle as he looks into the distance. Movement catches his eye, and he slows down while his buddy continues the rounds. He squints against the sun, attempting to focus on the movement. A vehicle was parked in the distance, and Logan felt his breath hitch in his throat. He looks toward Myers, who had pulled ahead a few meters. "Myers!" he shouts. His buddy looked back at him, taking another step and Logan felt his world slow down. He lunges towards his buddy, panic welling in his throat yet it was too late.
A blast shook his world.

Logan lurches awake, "fuck." he mutters, looking around the dimly lit apartment. He runs his hands over his forehead, the cold sweat beading his skin. His mind wanders to when he was Afghanistan, how he didn't protect the one person who had believed in him throughout their entire training. Suddenly, a blast in the distance yanks him from his memories. He pulls himself out of his sleeping bag, heading towards the boarded up window. He carefully pulls one of the loose boards aside, and in the distance he spots black smoke slowly rising into the sky.

With an irritated growl, Logan pulls himself away from the window. He looks over the small area he had taken shelter in for nearly a week, and shakes his head. Nothing good lasts long in this world anymore, it wont be safe here for much longer.

Logan begins to quickly pack his belongings, which consisted of a few spare clothes, bandages, his seeping bag, extra magazines, his Canteen and a few cans of food. He was beginning to run low, which meant while he looked for new shelter he also had to look for anything he could eat. Logan pulls his army green tactical bag over his shoulders, stepping into his combat boots with ease. Silently, he touches the dog tags around his neck, feeling the cold metal shift slightly as he did. His gaze wanders towards the Ar-15 resting against the wall, the dog tags that were tightly looped around the barrel rests about as silently as their owner did.

He picks up the rifle, before steeping into the musky hallway. The area was thankfully silent, he didn't want to deal with people or infected at the moment. He slowly travels down the halls, careful as he passes any of the open doors. With ease he reaches the stair way and begins to take them down to the main floor, where the air remained painfully stagnant. He carefully lifts his mouth cover over his nose and mouth as he steps onto the main floor, using his rifle as he scans the wide area. it seemed clear, but he couldn't be too cautious. As silently as possible, Logan makes his way towards the broken glass doors, scanning every direction carefully.

code by Aukanai ​

 

[_SweetCandy_]

Daisy Madrid​

"Don't cry. Don't die."​

STATUS

[ Alive ]​

MOOD

[ Tired ]​

LOCATION

[ Corner Store ]​

TAGGED

[ N/a ]​

The air was crisp something Daisy used to love. Made it easier to breathe, it wasn't like that anymore. You never felt safe nowadays, and if you did that's when you know something is wrong. Quiet wasn't serene anymore it was dangerous. The sooner you forgot how it used to be, the longer you'll stay alive now. Comfort isn't a luxury anymore it's a mythical concept you wish for. Daisy sighed, slinging the sniper rifle over her shoulder. She hasn't had to use it and she doesn't want to have to. She always hated using it when she would go hunting with her family. She wanted to save lives not take them.
She weaved through the abandoned cars on the city streets. Her intended destination a small family run corner store that would hopefully have some supplies left. She had faired fairly well so far, but it had been awhile since she did a run. As she walked up to the door she hesitated broken glass was never a good sign. Daisy pulled the small pistol from its holster.
She proceeded slowly the glass crunching under her feet. An uneasy feeling began to creep up on her deciding it was best to get what she needed and then get the hell out she rushed towards the canned goods. She put the gun down and quickly took her bag off she shoved the few cans and assortment of foods they had into her bag. She made her way over to the coolers only one water bottle, 'damn,' she thought before shoving it to into bag. The sound of a crunch made her whirl around not seeing anything she moved over towards the medical section grabbing the couple bandages that were left along with antibiotics.
Daisy jumped when the scuff of a shoe was heard. It was one of them. The living are too care now. She quickly zipped her pack before tossing the strap over her shoulder. The gun was once again drawn as she crept around the shelving unit. There were two of them. She walked slowly before rushing the opposite side of the display and knocking it on to them. It wouldn't kill them but it would give her enough time to get away.
She pushed off running out of the store and back towards the direction she came from. After a mile, she stopped gulping in deep breaths of air. She moved towards to the back of the tall building climbing up the latter. Her make shift shelter remained untouched on the roof. It was nothing grand just a pop-up tent and a camping stove. After setting up her makeshift security system (a couple of cans that alert her if someone is climbing up the later) she made her way over to her tent throwing her bag in it. She sighed putting her pistol on the small table beside the folding chair. She lifted the sniper from over her head before dropping into the chair. Daisy lifted the sniper to her eye surveying the area it's going to be a long day.

➤​

Code by Aukanai ​

 

[nuas]

DOLORES ROCHA

STATUS
LOCATION: Sal's Diner
MOOD: Starving
MENTIONS: TBA
INTERACTIONS: TBA

"In this line of work, you have to prepare for the worst." Jim, her coworker of six months said while they were on assignment in West Africa. "It ain't a easy thing to do but it helps you sleep better at night."

No words were spoken truer than that day. As war photographer, every assignment lingered with you. How could it not when you stood in the very center of pain? So, that is what she did. Dolores prepared for the worst when she hopped out of the hummer. She prepared for the worst when she smelled the burning flesh of the recently deceased. Even when the collection of bodies whose eyes seemed to follow her every move. She prepared for the worst when she adjusted the lens on her camera and took the photos. She would go from site to site, snapping the photos and prepared for the absolute worst. When she got back to her hotel, Dolores would swallow a shot of whiskey and sleep to only do it all over again the next day.

It was not until she came back home, staying up late at night, she realized she failed. Like she always did because those eyes never left her mind. The stench never seemed to leave her skin and clothes. The raw pain of the moment never left without a sharp pang in her chest. Her brain would never let her forget. She found it so odd that for all the greatness a human being could own, they created the most vile things as well.

When she changed professions to a stringer, it did not get any easier. If anything, it reminded her how much of the internal war of home still existed. The violent strings of murders happening right there in some unlucky victim's home. It was a shit show everywhere but it was important. People should not forget the real monsters that lurked outside their doors. Or at least that was how she saw it until the world went to shit. The world was infected and the war was happening on a much larger scale. No one and nowhere was safe. It was a 360 view of bat shit crazy and only the strong survived. Yet, she still prepared for the worst.

Dolores' shoes began to scuff the ground, her feet sore from the hours of walking. Her backpack straps were beginning to dig into her shoulder. The 12-Gauge shotgun she was holding seemed to be weighing like stones in her hands. In short, she was going to need a break.

Normally she would avoid cities for they were the most infected but right now, she needed to rest and stock up on supplies. Dolores forced herself to pick up the pace but also quieting her footsteps. It sounded like it was completely empty of any of the infected but one could never be too sure.

A dingy white sign with faded black letters came into view. She squinted her eyes to read the sign, only making out: D C PHA M C Y.

"Hopefully, it has what I need." Dolores mumbled. Her eyes scanning the abandoned area as she moved. Nothing so far. She approached the front of the pharmacy, her hands steadying on the shotgun. It looked like it was untouched besides the boarded up windows and door. She clicked the butt of the gun on the window boards, smashing the wood in half. A flurry of dust shot out into her face.

"Fucking hell," Dolores yelped as she stepped back, coughing as she waved the dust from her face. Once her breathing calm downed, she resumed breaking the boards in half. Afterwards, she put the gun on the sidewalk. Dolores began to use her hands to lift the boards away, tossing them on the ground beside her. The windows did not look like they were in bad shape but they were quite cloudy.

Dolores leant over to the window and tapped the window three times. She waited a beat. Nothing. She tapped three more times. Again, nothing. Dolores scanned the area behind her once more. It was quiet but that was not always a guarantee that it was ever completely safe. She was going to have to be quick to snatch whatever meds she could find. She grabbed her gun off the ground and whacked the window.

The glass cracked before shattering completely. A soft clink of small bits of glass decorating the pharmacy floor and sidewalk came raining down. The sound echoed through the street and Dolores frowned before climbing inside. She wiggled her backpack off her shoulder and roughly opened the top with one hand. There were various shelves that were covered in thick dust. It also seemed that quite a bit of them were emptied. Possibly from the start of the infection.

Dolores quickly looked over the shelves. She found two bottles of Penicillin, two bottles of Vicodin, and three bottles of 500mg Aspirin. There were still more in the back but a soft scuff outside caused her to freeze. It sounded distant enough but she was not going to risk lingering. With a disappointed sigh, Dolores quickly snapped up her backpack and climbed back outside. She gave the area another look for the source of the sound but decided it was best to keep moving.

She headed north of the pharmacy. A dusty neon sign came into view, Sal's Diner. It was a small building and looked untouched from where she was standing. She could rest here. Also, there could be food. Dolores approached the building with caution, her eyes looking for anything out of place. So far, so good. The windows nor the doors were boarded up. Dolores tapped the door and waited. When she deemed it satisfactory, she opened the door and the heavy stale scent wafted it out.

Dolores stepped inside, her gun propped up in her hands as she checked the booths, behind the counter, the storage unit and bathrooms. It was all clear of the infected. This would make a fine spot for a rest. She threw her backpack on one of the diner booth tables and began rummaging in the kitchen for cans of food. Three cans of mixed vegetables, four chicken soups, and beef stew seemed to be all that was left.

INVENTORY
WEAPONS & BULLETS
➥ Fallkniven TK4 Folding Pocket Knife
➥ A short-barreled Benelli Nova Tactical with a dot sight and collapsible stock
➥ 24 bullets
MEDS
➥ Aspirin 500 mg - 3 bottles
➥ Vicodin - 2 bottles
➥ Penicillin- 2 bottles
FOOD & WATER
➥ Half empty water bottle
➥ 2 granola bars
➥ 1 can of pork 'n' beans
FOOD & WATER
➥ a knitted sweater
➥ A dark blue casual jacket