Latest topics
» First post of 2017 ?!
by Celstrial Sat Nov 04, 2017 12:06 pm

» First Post of 2016?
by Payton Wed May 25, 2016 3:57 am

» Merry Xmas
by Altera Fri Dec 25, 2015 1:13 pm

» Your Awesome Pictures X
by Rage Thu Dec 17, 2015 2:57 am

» TR
by DigDog Tue Oct 27, 2015 7:07 am

» Wonderful Memories
by Mrsebi Mon Oct 12, 2015 10:06 pm

» Cool New Music
by Mrsebi Sat Oct 10, 2015 12:48 am

» Posting in these forums
by Mrsebi Sat Oct 10, 2015 12:40 am

» What College Are You Attending?
by Mrsebi Tue Oct 06, 2015 11:51 pm

Top posting users this week

I need some Frogzard sprites

Sun May 25, 2014 6:30 am by V



Comments: 34

OUR DOMAIN IS ABOUT TO EXPIRE

Sun Apr 27, 2014 8:43 am by V

but I renewed it.

what have YOU done today, TR?

also I'm not sure if heartbleed effected us but you should probably not change your password, the jitterbug gang are working hard and they need …

Comments: 30

Log in

I forgot my password

Who is online?
In total there are 4 users online :: 0 Registered, 0 Hidden and 4 Guests

None

[ View the whole list ]


Most users ever online was 212 on Tue Jan 11, 2011 5:47 pm
Search
 
 

Display results as :
 


Rechercher Advanced Search


Flesh and Bone

View previous topic View next topic Go down

Flesh and Bone

Post by CC on Sun Apr 08, 2012 5:21 am

READ EVERY POST IN ITS ENTIRETY PLEASE. SOME WILL BE LONG. NO TL;DR ACCEPTED KTHX

-----------------------------

Green.

A field, to be exact.

Ulysses walked through the field, looking at the beautiful flowers that soaked up the midsummer sun. He picked one up, an orange daylily, and examined it closely.

There was nothing remarkable about the flower. Ulysses put the stem in between his thumb and index finger, spinning it around. A beautiful little thing, he thought, but common. Few things that are common retain such beauty, he knew.

He put the heart of the plant, the flower, in his fingers. He rubbed it, and the fragile thing was reduced to pieces, the broken shards of the once pretty flora falling steadily to the ground.

After walking further, he noticed patches of weeds littering the ground. Weeds are plants, he thought, but they are not fragile, and therefore they are not beautiful. But they are strong.

Strength is not appreciated like beauty. You can beat and slice a weed to its roots; you can spray it with chemical weaponry. Yet still, it will grow back. It will keep on fighting and it will not go down for anyone. If not for the reason of living, then for the sole purpose of surviving the attacks of opposing forces.

Strike a weed down, and it will rise again. It will always rise. Flowers have human beings to keep them alive for their beauty, weeds have only themselves. And a weed has just as much right to live as a dandelion.

Ulysses kept walking, wishing to leave the weeds alone. The scenery was now becoming bleak and devoid of color. The same things existed. The dandelions still stood, the weeds still stood. Yet they lacked the charm they had exuded so proudly before.

Ulysses kept walking. The same pattern occurred. For every few steps he took, his surroundings turned darker and darker. Nature’s lifeblood was being sucked out, and eventually, there was nothing. Black nothingness. He looked behind him and could see, way off in the distance, a colorful landscape with a pale blue sky. He looked in front of him and saw nothing.

It was then that they struck him: black tentacles, seething, filled with hatred. They wrapped around his body, rendering him defenseless. They pulled him slowly into the darkness. All he saw was the beauty that he had left behind. Then he saw nothing.

---

Ulysses woke up.

Ulysses woke up on the cold, uninviting floor.

It took him a moment to gauge where he was, but he remembered that he had chosen to sleep outside of the System that night. He recalled that he had wanted to live as the normal people lived, outside of his comfort zone. Only now was he realizing that his idea was not nearly as fulfilling as he’d imagined.

He began to recollect what had happened the night before:

He had walked in to a downtrodden, rotting pub. It was owned by a powerful figure that had an alliance with Ulysses and his partner Odysseus, and Ulysses assumed he was safe there. It was a convenient place to grasp the lifestyle of the ragged proletariats, and it offered what the pub's newest occupant assumed was security. He had ordered a few drinks there, paying with a few cartridges of ammunition, had gotten drunk, flirted (and possibly fornicated, he couldn’t remember) with an ugly prostitute named Shelly. He remembered paying a bit too much for the ability to sleep upstairs, and had subsequently passed out there.

The pub had no name, or at least its name was the pub. There were other bars in the city, but when someone said the pub, they meant the pub or they were mistaken. It used to have a name, but the sign was stolen, so the nickname suited it well enough. It was owned by Phillip Juggs, a merchant and underworld boss. Ulysses had met him once or twice, and they had a couple business arrangements regarding prostitution, arms trading, et cetera. The merchant had a famous following of disgusting hoboes called “The Good Brothers,” that did whatever he asked. What precisely he offered them to gain such strong loyalty was subject to much debate. They weren’t the best soldiers, seeing as none of them were good at anything but breathing and that they were equipped with rusty pipes at best. Still, the amount of displaced hoboes in the city amassed to become quite an impressive (at least impressively large) army.

Ulysses got up. There were no bathroom facilities here. Most people just went outside to do their dirty work. He was regretting the time he had spent here. Ulysses looked at his pile of equipment in the room, and realized that most of it was not there. He suspected a member of the Good Brothers, as all of them were kleptomaniacs. Ulysses saw that his weapons were gone, as well as his bulletproof vest and mask. He had possessed a Springfield XD .40 and a sawn off double barrel shotgun, too. In addition, the walkie talkie used to contact his base was gone. [These items will be available for purchase or theft later in the RP.]

All that as left were his shirt, pants, and coat. He looked in his pocket and saw his steel knuckled gloves were still there. The Good Brothers didn’t always take everything, because they weren’t that observant. Luckily, his vest and mask could be replaced, but it would be a dangerous walk to the system.

Ulysses put on his coat and walked downstairs. In the city, temperatures usually stayed a bit below 50 degrees Fahrenheit, about 10 degrees Celsius. It could fluctuate, but was generally fairly consistent. Most people chose to don outerwear.

The city’s sky didn’t change much. It was usually fairly dark, and at night it became darker, but it always retained its dark, depressing, greenish hue. In the old days, most places would open up their windows to soak in the beautiful sky- now it didn't matter whether the sky slipped in or not, most places were still melancholy.

Weaponless, Ulysses walked through the pub. The pub was a fairly typical establishment found in the city, and in the morning, it was even worse of a sight to behold. There were a few people passed out around there, a couple unattractive women and a few drunkard men. The ugly and poorly dressed bartender was still at the bar, and while it looked like he was drunk, people knew he was just “special.” Ulysses looked at a door by the bartender that probably led to the true heart of the Pub: Juggs’s office.

Ulysses stood in the middle and looked around. Something seemed off, but he dismissed the feeling, knowing that he had never seen the pub in the morning. But still, he felt like he could hear heavy breathing. There was an overturned table, and he imagined that whatever was making those unsettling sounds would be behind there. He nonchalantly walked toward it, and looking behind, saw a grotesque human being in a torn trench coat. The man jumped up relatively sluggishly, attempting to lob Ulysses in the face. Being proficient in krav maga, or at least not being dumb enough not to dodge the attack, Ulysses sidestepped it and twisted the man’s arm. The attacker was now grappled, and the more skillful combatant knocked his head against the wall.

It was then that another man, similarly clad, jumped up from behind the bar, right next to the bartender. The guy hopped over the bar and ran full speed at Ulysses, apparently hoping for the best. Crouched on the ground, he clothes-lined the man in the stomach, swiveling him around and putting him in a chokehold.

With the human shield faced toward the bartender, Ulysses yelled out, “Hell is this, man? Didn’t you notice this guy?” The man in the choke hold wiggled and grunted, but didn’t offer an intelligible reply.

The bartender slowly went and grabbed something from below the bar, pulled it up, and revealed it to be a single-shot 12 gauge shotgun. Ulysses pushed his human shield toward the hostile bartender and jumped to the side. The heavy buckshot connected with the human shield, shredding him and propelling him a bit backwards. Ulysses ran toward the bartender who was now reloading his weapon. He vaulted over the counter and kicked the bartender back into the wall, breaking all the glasses and the shelf. Ulysses regained his ground and hit the man three times in the nose, his steel knuckled gloves instantly breaking the bartender’s nose. The bartender sank to the floor.

Ulysses took the single barreled shotgun, took one shell and loaded it, and put five in his pocket. He looked at the bartender, whose face had been reduced to a bloody pulp. He wasn’t moving. Glancing at the buckshot recipient on the ground, who was presumably no longer with the living, he then looked at the guy behind the table, who was either dead or knocked out.

Ulysses walked out the door. There were a few more people passed out or high on some strong drug, for they hadn’t noticed the blast inside. He scanned the area and could see an alley down the street, where a couple hobos seemed to notice him. There was an entrance to the subway, Ulysses’s home, just a few hundred meters away. He broke into a quick walk towards it. The hobo-infested alley was behind him, and when he looked back, he noticed that the hobos had begun running at a full sprint towards him. Swiveling around, and taking no chances, he discharged a shot at the horde. He didn’t look back to see how many had been incapacitated, and jumped down the steps to the subway entrance. At the bottom of the steps, there was a steel door, the type that all entrances now possessed. It was a solid piece of reinforced steel with a prison-like slit that was closed. Ulysses was out of view of the hobos, but would be cornered if they chose to follow him.

He banged on the steel door. The slit opened, revealing a peace of one-way bulletproof glass that he could not see through.

Nothing happened. He knew there was a two way sound system, and he heard through some sort of amplifier a voice of a guard.

“Who are you?” the voice asked.

The horde of hobos was coming closer. “It’s Ulysses!” he screamed, and there was silence for another moment. Then he realized it: not all the guards he employed had seen his face. He realized his own mistake, and knew that this overly cautious guard would’ve questioned him with or without the mask. Anybody could wear the mask, he thought.

The horde came closer. A group of hobos was just a few feet away from the steps. The steel door swung open, two guards armed with automatic rifles ushering Ulysses in. What looked like ten hobos fell down the steps, the others climbing over them. Ulysses jumped in, and the door swung shut.

Ulysses panted, his heart racing. He never imagined that he’d be so frightened by common vagrants. He looked up, seeing a 20 ft hallway where the guards were stationed. There was an additional steel door with another slit at the end, which swung open with an additional tier of guards. One couldn’t be too safe in the city.

Ulysses walked down further stairs to the subway platform. It looked like any metropolitan subway, only older and darker. The lights used electricity of a generator, so they had to keep the whole facility darkly lit.

He could hear the familiar screech of the subway car coming to greet him. There were about 15 other people that waited there, accompanied by one of Ulysses’s scavengers. The scavenger walked toward him, carrying an assault rifle.

“Good to see you. We were lucky enough to find some useful survivors out there. Two doctors, good catch.” the man said.

After the new colonists were brought to their new home in one of the many stations of the complex subway system, nicknamed simply the System, Ulysses paid a visit to what had become an improvised science center. The compound was not ideal for creating homes, but it was ideal for safety, seclusion and travel. System soldiers could sprout up at any strategic location in the city.

Since the System was so complex, residents were designated to different stations and street entrances. Since the subways only consisted of platforms and train tracks, they had to spread everyone out. There were areas where survivors would sleep on cots, and each of these stations were equipped with simple appliances and cooking implements installed by Ulysses’s engineers.

Ulysses shared control of the System with his partner, Odysseus. After the apocalypse, the two had secured resources and taken everyone they could find to the subways, which had been largely deserted. It was rumored that Odysseus kept all memories from times before the apocalypse, but he rarely shared any information regarding the past.

Odysseus was a narcissistic scientist that was developing the next big thing: humanity’s salvation. He had devised a sort of shielding system to protect the city from toxic gases that plagued its outskirts. Odysseus said that once signs of the apocalypse arose, anyone that inhaled one breath of this gas died immediately. It acted as a fog, concealing everything behind it. Among the only information Odysseus had shared was that he had helped build the shields before dawn of the new age. At present, he was building a method of routing the shield’s power to a mobilized version that could protect a large amount of people as they moved. The problem was that once the power was rerouted, the shields encompassing the city would fail; everyone not in the mobile shield would die. Ulysses and Odysseus were planning to transport a colony of people to the lands that were outside of the city, though none knew exactly what was out there.

Ulysses got off of the subway car and stepped on to a platform that led to an area with a series of complex electric machinery and monitors. Sitting at a table, reviewing documents, was Odysseus. Ulysses always thought that Odysseus spent too much time on his carefully manicured appearance, but he never said anything.

Ulysses sat down next to the scientist. “Salutations.”

Odysseus didn’t even look up from his reading, saying, “Find anything?”

“No. Scavengers picked up a few survivors, found a few supplies. That’s about it. I went out last night, didn’t find anything.”

“I wouldn’t say it was a completely unfruitful evening. You smell of liquor, so I would say that there is more to your story than meets the eye. And seeing as you lack any sort of weaponry besides that shotgun, which is not something you would usually carry, I would say that you lost more than you found. And I do not see your usual…” he raised his hand in a “shooing” gesture to assert the frivolity of Ulysses’s equipment before he concluded, “battle implements.”

Odysseus dressed markedly different than Ulysses. He usually wore suits that had somehow held up after the apocalypse. Today, he had chosen a brown suit with thin, white pinstripes; a matching vest; a white, wrinkle-free shirt and a brown tie. His dark brown hair was in a perfect comb-over, not one strand out of place. He wore what would’ve been considered a high-end watch before the rebirth of civilization. He wore small glasses and had light blue eyes. He had a smaller, more delicate face than that of Ulysses, but still remained handsome and knew it.

Ulysses looked down. “Can’t say it was an amazing evening, can’t say it was a good morning either. I got ambushed by a bunch of hobos.”

Odysseus looked up from whatever he was reading. “Now that is information that is much more important and vital to my well-being. We should have started the conversation with such talk. If this was a truly unprovoked attack, then we have a larger problem than your confrontation with these ‘hobos.’ For if this was a premeditated strike from our merchant ‘friend,’ it complicates matters.”

Ulysses leaned back in his chair, folding his arms on his chest. “I’m not sure exactly what to do here. What are you thinking? Strike back or let it play out?”

Odysseus clasped his hands on the table and sighed. “I would say we’d let it play out. Take some soldiers over to the Pub and disguise it as a night of fun for your best men. See what he does.”

Ulysses stood up. “I’ll do that. But first, I want to make sure the medical staff has everything they need and then replenish the armory and my equipment."

Odysseus looked back down. "You do that."


Last edited by CC on Sun Apr 08, 2012 9:37 am; edited 1 time in total
avatar
CC
Member

Number of posts : 74
User Points : 10220
Location : The System

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Cial on Sun Apr 08, 2012 9:28 am

Dreams tormented by nightmares, resulting in night terrors. In his sleep, Grayson seemed almost possessed by some demon out of The Book that old Juggs preached from frequently. Grayson's amnesia-stricken mind and recent incurable insomnia had caused his dreams to become terrifying rides through horrible memories and figments from the darkest reaches of his subconscious. He shook violently, ground his teeth, and often, screamed.

These night terrors became so frequent that Grayson accepted them. He would never see a sweet dream again, never rest peacefully, until the day he would eventually die.

But tonight, his terrors were unbearable. They shook his body, made him reach out and clutch onto the greasy, unwashed and matted fur on his faithful companion, Evan. Grayson's eyes shed tears for names and faces that passed him in his dreams. Names and faces that belonged to those who were lost in the apocalypse, attacked by mutant creatures.

Grayson was mourning in his sleep. And he had almost no idea who these people were. His mind released a name, a face occasionally, but one thing was sure. They were all dead. Every last one.

He awoke in a cold sweat. As he sat and looked out on The City from the rooftop he called his home, he couldn't shake the dream from his mind. Evan walked up to him, curled up in his lap, and rested, comforting his master.

"It's okay buddy. We're okay. I'm okay." Grayson said, looking off to the distance, where a group of vagrants had seemed to take an unhealthy interest in one of The Pub's customers.

Grayson hadn't particularly liked the Good Brothers, or their leader. Although he didn't have a particular distaste for them either. They left him alone, he left them alone. Only in special circumstances where innocent people were involved in their so-called "Business Practices" had he opposed them.

Grayson shook himself awake, and roused Evan with a ruffle of the fur on his head. He retrieved the long wooden makeshift walkway he had made to reach across the alleyway and onto the roof next to his home and set it into place. After tossing his bag ahead of him across the alley and onto the opposite roof, he and his companion crossed, and hid the walkway in some old junk.

The walkway was one of Grayson's brilliant ideas for security. Looters and raiders couldn't be trusted in The City, let alone the zombies. So, in defence, he found two buildings with equal height roofs, and made one completely inaccessible. Then, he built a sturdy walkway to cross to it from the other building, and set up a home there with a tent and various things scavenged from around The City. He then brought the walkway to and fro, between the rooftops, to prevent coming under attack by the city's terrors. If anything wanted to attack him in his sleep, it would have to try it's hardest to get to him, first.

Grayson now walked alongside his dog, machete in hand, to scope out The Pub, and loot what he could from the drunken rampage that no doubt had taken place the night before.
avatar
Cial
I am your mother

Zard :
Number of posts : 3457
User Points : 139972
Age : 21
Location : A nice, padded room.

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Guest on Sun Apr 08, 2012 10:39 am

Death, decay, ruin, sadness, those weren't the only words to describe the current events, how the city came to be after what happened what seemed ages ago to Will, but those were the first coming to his mind. Losing memory of his previous life somewhat disoriented the ex-police officer for a good amount of time after the apocalypse, but what he had to face after seemed to be a nightmare without an end. Some days, Will would've hoped he'd just wake up from all this and find himself in his bed, in the arms of his beloved wife, Anna. Unfortunately, he'd realize that this was the truth, the pain was real, and everything was reality, no matter how bad or unrealistic the whole situation came to be.

It would happen sometimes for Will to just lay down for a moment and think of everything that happened so far. Sometimes he would not believe what sort of things he went through and would confirm he was not making up stories by looking at his journal. His last stand with his policemen comrades against a horde of infected, mindless people recently named "Zombies" at the police station, only to be one of the few to have survived the attack. Using the police database, he found out where his home was, and shortly after discovered their gruesome half-eaten bodies. He ran away as fast as he could, but no matter how far he went, he would never forget the horrible sight.

Will frowned, wiping a few tears from his cheeks. He had day-dreamed and mourned his family long enough, he had to get up and continue. His sorrow and weariness changed into a vengeful look for a few seconds, blaming his misfortune on the Zombies. He would never forgive or show mercy on those filthy creatures. They have to pay for killing his family; they all have to die before creating any more sorrow. But at that moment, Will brought his cold right hand to his face, and took deep breathes, as if a part of himself told him to calm down. He wasn't the only one facing this situation. He had to remain calm and sane to keep himself alive. Staying alive was the only way to avenge his family. He had to stay alive to help those who also lost their family and prevent any more lost.

After calming down, Will got up, taking his supply bag and his shotgun from the floor and swinging the bag over his shoulder, keeping his shotgun in his right hand, close to him. He was now ready to exit his improvised hideout from a dark alley in the city he shared with a few other citizens to head out for the streets. Rumors say that hobos are become an increasing danger by the days. It seemed that they got violent all of a sudden on one guy earlier, as one guy named Jake witnessed running back to the hideout to share what he saw on the streets.

Will loaded a rubber bullet in his shotgun, just in case something goes wrong on the streets today. The police officer knew the dangers of the streets in his early days of his career as a cop, but they never were as casual as of nowadays.

"Going out today, Will?" One of those sharing this small piece of the dark alleys asked Will as he noticed him heading out.

"Time to investigate those rumors." Will simply answered to the frail lady.

"Watch yourself, today started quite violently. It’d be a shame if you died for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." The man named Jake advised Will.

Will just nodded and headed to the main street. It was a bit cold today, or so was the impression the dark alley gave to Will. As he went outside, it was a bit better, but it was nonetheless cold. For today, he would try and meet the group he had heard about, those people lurking in the subway. Thinking of subways, Will located an entrance yesterday night, near the pub, but didn't go down there yet. There was a bit of a mess as he headed there. Just like Jake said, there seemed to be a few grunts injured, bleeding bruised. Will wondered what exactly happened, but didn't wanted to get involved in all this. They didn't seem to be the kind of trustworthy bunch. Will quickly learned to not trust and hang out near bunch of shabby gangs, as it may quickly result in being stripped of any supply, even of one's life.

"Nice gun you got there." A filthy and dirty man sitting on the edge of the street, playing with a knife, said to no one in particular with a grin.

Will gave him a threatening glance before turning his head back towards his destination. Not to be cool and all, but he had to also focus on his other surroundings. Usually, these sorts of guys are not alone, waiting for an opportunity to ambush. It would pretty stupid though to face against a guy with a shotgun, even if it is loaded with rubber bullets, but they don't know that. Will quickened his pace unconsciously towards the subway entrance to avoid meeting that gang of villains he heard from Jake earlier.

Before he knew it, Will founds himself face to face with a man. Unkept hair, morning beard and stinking of alcohol. The ex-law enforcer figured that this man was drunk, if not high on some drugs already this early. Will examined the man, but found nothing threatening on him, although the man's attitude seemed to tell otherwise.

"Got a problem, buddy-hic?" The drunk man said with an aggressive tone.

"Nothing." Will answered.

Will tried to make his way around the man, but he obviously was trying to pick a fight by pushing Will. Took by surprised, Will tripped backwards and fell prone on the ground, near a dark alley. With a grunt, Will got quickly on his feet and waited for the man to make his next move. As expected, the drunk man charged him, but he stumbled on his feet and fell in Will's arm. Prepared, Will grabbed the man and threw him on the ground, chin against the ground. A police officer would have no problem handcuffing a drunk man, so did Will.

As he should've expected, but got distracted, Will got hit by something from behind. Two fairly large men stood behind Will, and one of them was holding a baseball bat, the one who hit him from behind. Will rolled backwards, but was half-stunned from the hit. He grogilly drew his handgun, but by the time he would be pointing his weapon at his assaillants, he was locked in a grapple with them. Even if he was well-taught in wrestling, Will was unable to escape his assaillants grapple.During the struggle, Will was punched on his torso and on his head repeatedly. As Will was struggling for his life, his finger slipped on the trigger, and a shot from his handgun could be heard. One of the two dropped slowly on the ground. The second man, shocked from the shot and his partner suddenly falling on the ground, broke the grapple and ran away.

Will, dizzy from that sudden attack, fell on both knees, trying to catch his breath. But as he breathed, he felt a sharp pain in his torso. The ex-member of the police reached the part where it was hurting, and belt a hot fluid on his fingers. Looking at his hand, it was drenched in blood, his blood. The pain seemed to intensify as adrenaline seemed to fade away.

Will struggled to get on his feet, but he managed to do it in pain. He was pressing his hands on his wound, walking away from the alley. The sharp pain was reflected on his face, and it seemed to worsen by the seconds. Will walked towards the pub, hoping there would be someone able to help him, although it seemed to be unlikely.

"Anybody? Help..." Will tried to yell, but the pain kept his voice at a moderate volume.
avatar
Guest
Guest


Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Cial on Sun Apr 08, 2012 11:48 am

He heard the gunshot. Gunshots only mean one thing. People in trouble. He ran to find Will, clutching his torso where blood flowed down from a wound made by a knife.

Grayson ran over to Will, who was in severe pain after being attacked by the assailants. Instinctively, he grabbed him, and pulled him to his feet, moving him quickly to his safe and secure rooftop. All the while, Will was screaming, his cut bleeding horribly, and fighting for his life.

They reached the top of the roof opposite his home. He set Will down, propping him up against the stairwell access. Grayson quickly dropped the walkway into place and ran across to grab gauze from a medical crate he took with supplies from a nearby abandoned hospital. Returning to Will, he bandaged up the man, and forced him to swallow pills that would dull the pain and force his blood to coagulate faster.

Once the pain had subsided, and Will had enough energy to speak, he did.

"Thank you." Said Will, breathing heavily.
"Don't mention it."
"I owe you my life."
"That's the painkillers talking. Besides, I thought you pigs wore vests to prevent this kind of thing"
"Lost mine."
"Let me guess, Good Brothers? Ah, anyway, you'll be fine in a few days. If you like, we've got food and water, and Evan and I don't eat very much. Why don't you stay here?"
"I guess so. I haven't got much of anywhere else to go."

Grayson helped Will to his feet, and cafefully across the walkway. He set him down in his tent and found a tarp and various other materials he had used to make barricades before he decided just to blow the stairwell up and not worry about invaders.

Within a few hours, Grayson had built him a small 6-foot shack with 3 walls and a floor for Will, and gave him a promise to build a better shack or find another tent to pitch soon.

"So what were you doing, going to The Pub? You don't look like the drinking type." Said Will.
"It's a long story. I've heard rumors, that they're going to shut down the shields, kill everyone except those in The System. I thought maybe if I could get my hands on that Book Juggs keeps on him, I could get enough time to talk him into helping me stop it." Explained Grayson.
"That doesn't seem like your battle to fight, kid." Said Will.
"Well, I haven't got much to fight for anymore, and I think to really be living, you need to fight for something." Said Grayson "Now get some rest.".

avatar
Cial
I am your mother

Zard :
Number of posts : 3457
User Points : 139972
Age : 21
Location : A nice, padded room.

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Fastwolfen on Sun Apr 08, 2012 8:03 pm

Another sleepless night, thought James. Looking for something to pass the time, he pulls a stone from his pocket and begins sharpening his knife. The the harsh scraping of the stone on the blade always seemed to comfort James in a way that no one else could.

James was just starting to work on sharpening his sword when a gunshot sounded in the distance. Gunshots, while not uncommon, usually mean that someone is in trouble, and James could not resit the urge to find the source.

James quickly puts away the sharpening stone and jumps to his feet. His mind is racing as to what could be happening. Either there were zombies nearby, or someone got into a fight. Either way, he felt the need to help whoever was in danger.

Sliding his knife out of its sheath, James stepped out of the warehouse and and began to work his way to where he heard the gunshot. He decided to take a path through the abandoned buildings because there would not be as many hobos there as opposed to on the streets. Still, he kept his knife in hand just in case a crazy hobo decides to attack him.

Eventually James reaches where he thought he heard the gunshot. His suspicions were confirmed by by the blood on the ground. James spots the body on the ground and decides that it was a fight, but the only sign of the other person was a blood trail leading away. He can’t tell if the body is the assailant or the victim. Despite a part of his mind screaming to leave the blood trail alone, James’ curiosity gets the better of him. He decides to be cautious, but he still follows the blood trail.
avatar
Fastwolfen
Daedric Prince of Biscuits

Zard :
Number of posts : 76
User Points : 6882
Age : 21
Location : Lion's Arch, Tyria

View user profile http://steamcommunity.com/id/Fastwolfen

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Altera on Mon Apr 09, 2012 3:05 pm

Martine shifted her weight from foot to foot as she checked the chart for the last patient for her shift. It had been a rather productive night for her and her small team as they treated a man who had broken his leg while scouring The City for supplies. It had taken a while to properly reset the bones and patch up where the fracture had jutted out from the man's flesh.

The day-shift medics were slowly trickling into the infirmary. They were the largest of the three shifts, managing most of the day-to-day care and surgeries. Martine's team were the smallest and primarily focused on emergency care. She didn't mind the so-called graveyard shift or being the supervising resident doctor over the four other medical professionals working at the time. It felt familiar to her, despite the lack of the more advanced machines she had been trained on and the lack of steady resources, a fact made painfully aware of whenever faced with men and women returning from The City, suffering from severe burns or gunshot wounds, or were in need of amputations. Fortunately, most infirmary visits were for flesh wounds or simple fractures and didn't require the specific services of a trauma surgeon, but it felt good to keep her skills in shape. As long as the System was not attacked or if there wasn't a major accident within the System or in The City above, the infirmary's resources would not be stretched too much.

There was more than enough to keep her busy besides the steady flow of people though the infirmary platform, teaching others, sometimes other doctors who had specialised in other disciplines, how to mend some injuries and administer medication, so she could focus on the more serious ailments as they came through and her ever-increasing baby bump.

She rubbed it absent-mindedly as she hung the chart back on its hook. Pregnancy wasn't something she covered beyond the basics while working in A&E. Most pregnant women at her former workplace would end up being transferred to Maternity for special treatment, placing them in the hands of more experienced doctors. But during her spare time, she would read up more on her current condition or seek advice from some of the civilian women.

“Twenty weeks so far.” She murmured, walking over to the workstation. She needed to write down some reminders for the day-shift before she could toddle off to bed. She grabbed the day-shift task roster and a pen from one of the shelves, and printed carefully.

Was not able to conduct a stocktake of all supplies. Please take note we are running low in stocks of morphine and codeine so please be wary as to how they are being dispensed, if possible, utilise other analgesics for treatment.

“And that should be that.” She said, returning the roster to its shelf.

“Not quite Doc.”

Martine spun around, “Ah, Mr Ulysses. Fun night last night?”

Ulysses shrugged, “You could say that. Tonight might be interesting as well, taking a few of my men to the Pub.”

Martine turned back to the workstation to write another note. “I see, I'll have the infirmary prepped just in case. Anything you need to have looked at before then? The day-shift will be ready to go shortly but I can stick around a while longer if need be if you'd rather not see Dr Adams.”

“I should be fine.”

Martine tilted her head as she turned around again. “You sure? From what I can deduce from last night, you might want to get tested at the very least. I can arrange something for later if you so wish. Was there anything else?”

Ulysses crossed his arms, “Yes, there is. How well stocked are you?”

“We have sufficient stocks of most of the basics, but we're running low in some of our opioid analgesics. Hopefully, the day-shift can manage to perform a stocktake of what we have so we can discern what we really need. I meant to do it last night, but spent most of it dealing with a tib-fib compound fracture. Not a pretty sight.”

“I can imagine.”

The last members of the day-shift staff arrived, most greeting the pair while Dr Adams brushed past them, grabbing the task roster before hurrying off to brief his team. “Anything else I should know?”

Ulysses snapped his fingers, “Oh! I have some good news for you. Some of my scavengers found a couple of doctors.”

Martine raised an eyebrow, “Actual medical doctors this time? Last time you said that, it turned out he had a PhD in civil engineering.”

“I assure you, Doctor Helmsey, that I checked this time. One is a family doctor, the other is a dentist.”

“They sound promising. I suppose for now they're getting settled?”

Ulysses nodded, “Indeed. Would you like to meet them later?”

“Eventually I would like to. Probably best if they see Dr Ericsson when they're ready, he'll sort out where they can go in the roster.” The alarm on her watch beeped signalling the end of her shift. “That's me done for the day, I'd better get some sleep. Don't take too many unnecessary risks tonight, okay?”
avatar
Altera
Crazy Awesome

Number of posts : 5783
User Points : 87890
Age : 28
Location : Aboard the Lost Light

View user profile http://argentis.tumblr.com

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by CC on Mon Apr 09, 2012 10:40 pm

Ulysses nodded to Martine. “No worries.”

He headed back to the subway platform. This was one of the three medical stations, and it would be a few minutes before he could get to the armory. The train came and he took a course that would end at his intended destination.

The armory was simple. It was essentially just weapon racks on the walls housing firearms. Most of the guns that the System possessed had been taken from police stations, manufacturers and retailers, and any other establishment in which they could be found. Parts and pieces that were salvaged could sometimes be put together to create a weapon as well.

A guard approached Ulysses with the weapon he had requested- the Heckler and Koch MP7. It used a relatively rare cartridge, but since the System reloaded and manufactured much of its own ammunition, it wasn’t too difficult to requisition. He favored it for its armor piercing capability, its compact size, and its rifle-like stopping power. The guard had gotten, as requested, replacements of the bulletproof helmet and armor that Ulysses had lost to the Good Brothers.

And with that, it was time to go. He got out his newly replaced walkie-talkie and signaled his men to meet him at the entrance nearest the Pub.

--

Ulysses surveyed his men. Two combat specialists, part of an elite force commanded by he himself, and three members of the Guard. Ulysses had asked for the best equipment possible, and for the most part, he had gotten it.

One guard possessed an FN Minimi, the non-military version of the M249 SAW. Another guard carried a Remington 870 pump action shotgun. The last guard carried a scoped Remington 700 in .308 for long-range engagements. Both specialists were carrying short-barreled M4A1 Carbines. With their leader’s MP7, they were a force to be reckoned with.

The specialists wore black SWAT attire and armor; the guards wore riot police uniforms with bulletproof vests. The main difference was the color, the guards wearing dark blue and the specialists wearing black.

Ulysses addressed them. “Alright, team. I don’t know what Juggs has up his sleeve but I expect he’ll be ready for us. Just because his hobos aren’t well equipped doesn’t mean he has no access to good equipment.” He left out the part about his own weapons being stolen the night before. “As you may know, I was attacked in the Pub today, and we’re not sure whether it was a premeditated attack or what. So stay close, keep your weapons ready and rounds chambered, but don’t fire unless I say so.”

The men nodded and the steel door opened to the outside world.

It was nighttime, so it was dark. Ulysses hadn’t expected for too many people to notice him, but he knew that the Pub would be packed- in the later hours of the day, it always was. He and his squad walked casually towards Juggs’ humble abode, trying not to alert too many of his presence. He could see the Pub lit up, fires burning in trash cans outside. There were many vagrants, drunkards and other undesirables outside, but they didn’t seem to take much interest in Ulysses or his men.

As they got closer and closer, however, it was obvious that people knew what was going on. Ulysses opened the Pub’s large double doors and hoped for the best.
avatar
CC
Member

Number of posts : 74
User Points : 10220
Location : The System

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Cial on Tue Apr 10, 2012 10:32 am

Grayson was walking back down the stairs to the street when he heard footsteps. He stopped, drew out his magnum, and stepped further down the stairs when he came face-to face with James, his gun aimed point-blank at his head.

"Who are you, what do you want?" Grayson demanded
"I-I-I was just coming to see if everyone is alright. My name is James."
"Right, you must have followed the blood. Yes, he's fine."
"That's great. I suppose you must have helped him?"
"Yes. I heard the shot, found him there, brought him back here for treatment. If you'd like, you could stay here. I'm sure he's lonely."
"That's fine. There are people out there I need to help. I don't need anything else."
"Alright get out then."
"Wait, do you know anything about The System?"
"Those cowards with the army that help nobody but themselves in the subway? I've heard of them."
"Are the rumors true? About the shields moving?"
"Anything is possible. Now, I really don't have time to gossip. Night is falling and I have things to do.

Grayson shoved James out of the building and on his way. He didn't need to be bothered by nosy strangers anyway. Although his hideout was usually secure, he couldn't trust people in The City.

He traveled along the same route that brought him to Will earlier in the day, although, by the pool of blood Will left after his attack, he found an old woman, calling out for Will. He ran to calm her down.

"Is something wrong, ma'am?"
"My friend, his name is Will, he's been gone since this morning and I'm worried. He was a good amount of protection at night for us."

Grayson had remembered he hadn't gotten the man who's life he had saved's name. The old lady said something about him being protective. The man was a police officer. Grayson figured the man's name must have been Will.

"I saw him earlier, he's safe."
"Where is he? Can you please take me to him? He's like a son to me!"
"Yes. Calm down. It's going to be fine. You said there were others?"
"Yes, yes! Follow me!"

Grayson followed the old woman to an alleyway where 9 others were waiting for her return. A young woman about Grayson's age ran and hugged the old woman.

"Granny! We thought we lost you too!"
"No child, I'm here. And I know where Will is, this young man here is coming to take us to him."

The young woman's face turned to Grayson, and the look on her face was puzzled. She seemed to know him, but couldn't make out a name or a memory from her erased thoughts.

"Who are you?"
"Well, people call me Grayson. Truth is, I don't know my real name."

The woman still looked confused, but trusted him.

"Do you have any supplies here? You all look hungry and tired. I have a safe place you can stay at." Grayson asked.
"I have some pots and pans, but we don't have much food, so they're useless." Answered the old woman.

Grayson thought of the cans of food back at The Roof. Crates full. He found them in a convenience store not too far from The Roof, and there still might be more in the stock room, which he hid the entrance to with a rack.

"I have plenty of food. But night is falling, and the Good Brothers will come for their cut of whatever you have left. Grab what you can and let's move."

Without hesitation, the 10 of them gathered what they had, offered to help Granny with her things, and fell into a pack formation for walking behind Grayson. The young woman who hugged Granny before walked next to him.

"My name is Katie, by the way." She said. Katie was short, about 5'4'' and strong. She had dark brown hair and freckles. She wore a tank top and cargo pants with boots she found at an abandoned army surplus store.
"Nice meeting you, Katie. How did you all meet?"
"It's a long story. Some of us were family, like the Browns." She nodded her head towards a group of 3 members of the group. One teenage girl, about 16, one older woman, about 40, and one young boy, about 18. "They were in the alley first. Then Granny showed up."
"Is she actually your grandmother?"
Katie laughed and smiled. "No, she's just older than us, so we joke and call her Granny. Anyway, after that, me, Castor and Jimmy showed up." Katie gestured over to two boys about Grayson's age who were talking together about what they would do to have another Quake LAN party. Castor was African-American and much stronger than Grayson, with a shaved head and red shirt that read "St. Gabriel's College: Home of the Narwhals". Jimmy was thinner, Caucasian, and had blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore a blue sweater that made his eyes seem bluer, and tan pants. Grayson thought that they might have been good friends of his, had the unspeakable not happened.

Finally, Katie pointed out Yusuf and Yolanda, who had thick Eastern European accents and constantly fought and bickered.

"You stupid man! You do not love me anymore! You wish to be wed to my sister, Claudia!"
"Woman, I tell you I would if I had the chance, but your sister is probably dead!"

Yolanda gasped and slapped Yusuf with her free hand, and strutted ahead next to Granny and the Browns.

"Sounds like they won't be together long."
"This is a good day for them. Once, while Will was out, a zombie came close to the alley. Yusuf jumped out and yelled 'COME GET ME, DEMON! FOR HELL CANNOT BE MUCH WORSE THAN SPENDING ANOTHER MOMENT WITH HER!'. I had to save him with my knife."

The group had reached The Roof and made it across the narrow walkway. Castor carried Granny over. As Grayson started a fire with Evan, resting from the long day, Granny reunited with Will. The group then gathered around the fire and warmed themselves, as Grayson gave them jobs to do while he was out. If they were going to stay with him, he'd need to scavenge more and the others needed to help out. Castor, Jimmy and Katie were to go with Grayson and Evan to scavenge and bring back things they needed. Granny was assigned the job of keeping the fire alive and warm and to cook food when it was needed. Ava Brown, the teenage girl, offered to organize the floors below the roof that were accessible, and stockpile whatever the scavenger team brought in the warehouse floor, just below the roof. Jason Brown, her brother, offered to keep lookout for zombies and other psychopaths so that Yusuf and Yolanda, who had been given the job of maintaining and fixing up the walkway, could have time to react.

Finally, Grayson assigned Will the task of being the sheriff and designated protector of the roof, and turned to the Brown's mother.

"What can you do, ma'am?" asked Grayson.
"She doesn't talk. She hasn't talked since our father died." said Jason.

Then, to everyone's surprise, she did.

"I'm a nurse. I'll provide medical help." The mother said. She also told Grayson her name was Katherine.
"That's fantastic! Well doc, you have your first patient!" Said Grayson, gesturing to Will, who winced under the pain in his bloodied, bandaged wound.

After the long day, the group settled down for night. They had brought sleeping bags and other things to sleep with, and they all felt a little better, finally feeling safe. Grayson stood up for an hour with Evan, then slowly drifted to sleep. Although tonight, something was different about his sleep, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Then he remembered.

There were no night terrors.
avatar
Cial
I am your mother

Zard :
Number of posts : 3457
User Points : 139972
Age : 21
Location : A nice, padded room.

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Leb on Tue Apr 10, 2012 2:11 pm

Vagrants shuffled their feet as they made way for Ulysses and his men, either apathetically or in a drunken stupor. No one said a word but there was tension in the air, some of the vagrants had their gaze linger a moment too long. They knew something was up, and were doing a bad job keeping it a secret. Regardless, Ulysses faced no opposition as he opened the door to the pub.

It was an usual night for the establishment, dozens of dirty men and women huddled over tables, wearing their dirty rags, drinking from their dirty mugs and men murmuring dirty sultry words to the few "fine outstanding women" working there. A few men were clapping out of sync to music played by a bearded man with an acoustic guitar, his whiskey voice singing softly about longing after- something, a woman, home, man? It was hard to tell, it was as if the entire pub had agreed to speak softly that one night. The man serving and wiping excess dirt off of glasses was a familiar one to Ulysses, some barely-white cloth wrapped around his face in haphazard fashion to help with the broken nose, and mostly broken face. His stare wasn't the only one piercing through the crowd at Ulysses.

A few men began to stand up, tall men, strong men, they were so out of place in the pub that one might mistake them to be scouts working under Ulysses, their faces hard and stoic, some scarred, one with an eyepatch covering what looked like a wound from someone clawing out their eye. Where others wore whatever they could find, these men had an uniform of sorts going. To their credit, most of what they wore was dark green, but most importantly was what they wore on top of their uniform. Holstered guns, a few decorative(hopefully) bullet belts. It was a common misconception that the Good Brothers meant a large group of homeless thieves, it wasn't wrong but when you delved deeper into the matter you find what you'd expect from a group such as theirs, a core group of people most trusted by the man leading them. Had they taken a different path, these men now standing up in defiance would probably be serving under Ulysses.

The man closest to Ulysses was a threatening sight, standing tall over most of the people, decorated with tattoos on his face, a sawed-off shotgun holstered on his side. Notably, it wasn't the gun that Ulysses had lost earlier. He even had what was somewhat a rarity these days, a grenade hanging from the vest he wore. Everything about him radiated authority and supremacy, the other armed men were watching him just as closely as Ulysses and his crew for any move that would tell what their next move was. The man breathed in deep and bellowed out a single word, elongating it for a good few seconds.

"Boss!"

There was a pause, the whole pub had quieted down as all eyes were turned over to the scene playing out on the entrance. A door was slammed open, eyes turning there saw a short pudgy man waddling out, almost as wide as he was tall, huffing as he went, pushing his glasses up on one finger as he approached the entrance.

"Ulysses." The man spoke while heaving, taking a good look behind him. It was hard to say if he noticed the men Ulysses had brought with him, or if he was just trying to make out if there were anyone else with him. "For what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
avatar
Leb
Murderbeard

Zard :
Number of posts : 420
User Points : 24706

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Tom Gaskarth on Fri Apr 13, 2012 10:00 am

The sun rose on anther day in the gloomy, devastated city. As the first cracks of light penetrated the thick fog surrounding the former urban paradise and the harsh shapes of the cold grey city began to unveil themselves to the world, a man rolled over in his sleep to allow himself a few more precious moments of rest before the inevitable. In his dusty apartment above his beloved restaurant Alexander Gabriel slept. He dreamt of the days when the rooms below him were filled with paying customers all hours of the day, When the air around him would be filled the mouth watering odours of the meals being cooked and the clanking of pots and pans from the chefs making them.

"Meerrrhhhhhhhh"
He never was a morning person and today was no exception. He lay there in his half awake state, unwilling to accept that anything had happened and that in a few moments the head chef would be banging on his door telling him to get it in gear and that customers were waiting on him. He stayed in place wishing and hoping for it to come. But there was no sound. There never was. He begrudgingly kicked off the sheets and started his day.

After donning his attire and making his way downstairs he started work on his meals for the day. When he had light a fire he started making a loaf of bread, whilst waiting for it to rise he boiled some of the filthy water provided by the taps.
"I guess I should be thankful that these work, rather than disgusted by what they produce" he thought. "It's a damn site better than nothing. And it seems to be okay after being boiled." Once both these menial, yet essential tasks had been completed Alexander checked the rest of the average sized restaurant to ensure nothing nasty had snuck in during the night.
"Store room's clear, so is the back room just gotta check out the front now."
Alex left the kitchen via the waiter's exit as he had done a thousand times before. Back first as to not drop the meals he used to carry on busy nights. He turned around and looked out at what used to be the finest restaurant in the city. The tables were spaced out in some areas like they are in most fancy restaurants and close together like they were in the smaller family based places around. Alex gave the room a quick once over before going towards the once grand entrance and carefully opening the door to the outside world.

He was greeted by the familiar dusty grey streets of the city's once booming retail district. A place that used to be busy all hours of the day now barren. Alex looked over the skyline of what used to be one of the nicest places to be and sighed a lonely sigh.
"One day someone will appear." he said as he turned and went back inside.
"One day."
avatar
Tom Gaskarth
Tumbleweed
Tumbleweed

Zard :
Number of posts : 1991
User Points : 83945
Age : 23
Location : Fighting Dragons

View user profile http://twitter.com/IFlyDragons

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Cial on Fri Apr 13, 2012 10:12 am

It was later in the night when Katie entered Grayson's tent to rouse him. She shook his shoulder and gently called his name until he propped himself up on his elbow, picked up his glasses, and placed them on his eyes. In the pale moonlight he stared into her eyes, and still half asleep mumbled "That's funny, I was just dreaming about you.". He was only half joking.

Katie scoffed and ruffled the hair on Evan's head to wake him. She turned back to Grayson and said "Look, Jimmy and Castor can't sleep, and there's still enough light out to start work early.".

Grayson finally shook himself awake and pulled on his vest. "Work? You mean scavenging? Why would you think right now would be a good idea to go out and scavenge?".

Katie stood up "It's because all the freaks in town are all over at the Pub. I think if we move now, we can catch them away from their stashes or prevent being followed.".

Grayson stood up and retrieved his machete. "I guess you have a point. Go get Castor and Jimmy, I'll get ready.". Grayson picked up his scavenging bag, dumped out what he had salvaged the day before (which hadn't been much) and walked out into the open air.

Castor, Jimmy and Katie were all ready, their weapons in hand. Jimmy carried a few throwing weapons he had either found or made himself, Castor, a large fire axe, and Katie carried a 9mm pistol and bow with 6 arrows. She admitted the gun was only really for show and intimidation, because she had no bullets.

The four of them took off, into the night. Grayson led them down a path that led to an old abandoned convenience store, with most of everything that wasn't bolted down having already been ransacked. Castor and Katie began to complain they had come all this way for nothing, when Grayson moved a rack aside, revealing a door that led to a small room with a few boxes of canned food and small 6 packs of beer. Castor, Jimmy and Grayson each took a box, and Katie fastened the two beer packs to her belt hooks. They headed back to the roof and were stopped by a pack of 3 zombies. Katie instinctively drew her bow and shot two arrows before one found it's mark in one's eye.

Grayson drew his machete, and slashed a few times before the 2nd had fallen limp. Castor dropped his box carefully and grabbed his axe from his belt loop, bringing the head into the zombie's brain. They all stood in silence before Castor turned to Jimmy and said "Next time, it's your turn.". It was the first time Grayson had laughed in weeks, maybe years, but he couldn't remember.

The rest of the walk back was uneventful. It turned out that Katie's suspecting all of The City's undesirables wouldn't be in their usual spots on the street corners and in dark alleyways. Instead, they were all drinking to forget or to remember, as their situation warranted.

They decided this could be a good idea for scavenging, later in the night. Of course, they would go out in the day, finding the things that were hidden from view when the sun went down, but if at all possible, they decided to go when people were at The Pub, rather than when they were out and about. If there was one thing scarier than a drunken lunatic, it was a sober lunatic.

Grayson finally retreated back to his bed to lay with Evan and sleep soundly. "Evan" he said, "This could be the beginning of a much safer, much more normal life, buddy.".


avatar
Cial
I am your mother

Zard :
Number of posts : 3457
User Points : 139972
Age : 21
Location : A nice, padded room.

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by CC on Sun May 06, 2012 1:31 am

Ulysses was getting progressively angrier. "Don't be coy with me, Juggs. Let's cut to the chase here. Drop your act and tell me why you attacked me."

Juggs pulled out a handkerchief and loudly blew his nose. After he concluded, he handed the snotty rag to a henchman, then straightened his glasses and spoke. "I never attacked you, Ulysses. We both know that."

Ulysses raised his MP7, pointing it at Juggs' squatty little body. "I'm tired of playing games, Juggs." The rest of Ulysses' squad raised their weapons, and so did Juggs' henchmen.
avatar
CC
Member

Number of posts : 74
User Points : 10220
Location : The System

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Leb on Tue May 08, 2012 8:02 pm

Seeing the guns pointed at him, Juggs did what everyone in the pub had expected him to. He started to laugh. It was a slow chuckle at first, but when he pointed at the men ready with their guns and looked around his establishment, he started to laugh louder, followed by his men following his example. Some braver tramps began to laugh as well, still looking like they were ready to bolt the moment things got bad.

"Mary Sue!" Juggs suddenly bellowed and the laughter in the pub ceased in an instant. A woman in a ragged dirty red dress stood up hastily, surprised and obviously afraid. She wasn't paid for this, after all. "You were here last night, weren't you? Saw mister Ulysses around?" The woman nodded, eyes darting from Juggs to Ulysses and the armed men, she could not understand why Juggs' men were still loitering about and looking like they had nothing to worry.

"Why don't you tell us all just what happened last night? So we could... Put aside our differences." Juggs said, looking straight at her. It was a look she knew all too well, Juggs was angry. It couldn't be heard from his voice but this gentle front was but a facade meant to contain the anger that was bottled within. "Yeah, Ulysses was here last night. Drank a little, played cards with Joe and Dirty Carl. Nothing big at first but then they started gambling. A few bits passed around, but then- Then his luck turned. Lost a few games, got some good hands and started betting his guns and gear to get his stuff back. Joe still won though, that lucky bastard. Cleared the table and screwed off right after."

"And what did mister Ulysses do then?" Juggs asked, looking awfully smug at Ulysses. "Went to bed, said he had had enough gambling for one night." Juggs waved his hand at the woman. "Thank you Mary, that'll be all." She ran off right after through the back door. Juggs was shaking his head at Ulysses, smug as ever. "My my, mister Ulysses. You lose one game and crash my place? A bit of a poor loser, isn't he fellows?" Juggs' men started to laugh again, a few highfived each other.

"Your crappy gamble skills aside, it's fortunate that you're here. You're a hard man to catch, mister Ulysses, not that you'd willingly meet with me or my boys. How about we go in the back room to have a little chat, I got some- Business that I need to talk with you. You take one of your men with you, I take one of mine. The rest stay here, would that be agreeable to you, mister Ulysses?"
avatar
Leb
Murderbeard

Zard :
Number of posts : 420
User Points : 24706

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by CC on Fri May 11, 2012 5:56 am

Ulysses fumed with anger. His reddening face was hidden by his mask, but all of the room's inhabitants could sense it.

"Listen, Juggs, I don't have time for petty lies. You might be able to fool the drunken idiots in the room," he said as he threateningly waved his weapon in the direction of the pub's customers, "but you can't fool me. If I had a bunch of assholes whose only allegiance to me was for free drinks, then maybe I'd act the same way. But I have bigger plans, Juggs."

Ulysses looked around the room at the patrons. "Once the shields come down, I'm not going to be merciful. You think it's funny to laugh at me, but when a corona of poison gas runs through your lungs and incinerates you from the inside out, we'll see who's laughing."

The scalawags of the pub quickly resumed their activities. The threat had worked.

Juggs made a point to show his boredom; he repeatedly glanced at his watch, which didn't even work. He looked up at Ulysses, pretending to snap out of a thought that was completely unrelated to the matter at hand. "Oh, you're done, yes? Good. Then please come with me to the back, good sir."

Ulysses stood still. "You expect me to believe that you'll bring one man? You think I'm dumb enough to think that you don't have anybody back there? Juggs, if you want to talk, I bring how many men I want to bring." Ulysses' shotgun-toting guard stepped forward, as did one of the assault rifle-wielding specialists.

"This is why I never liked you military people. All bravado, tactics and plans. You're good at that, but let me tell you, you're one horrible speaker." Juggs said and straightened his pose. "The most basic thing in negotiations is both sides being equal. So no mister Ulysses, I would not have over a dozen of my guys at our little meeting, nor will we get anywhere if you let your paranoia keep walking you around by your balls. Besides, the room is small."

That smug grin on his wide ugly face came back. "Now, do you have any other action movie lines you would like to say and be a big man, or can we get on with this, have our talk, and then the two of us part ways again?"

Ulysses' specialist stepped back. "I'll bring my shotgunner, then. Lead the way," he said, obviously embarrassed.
avatar
CC
Member

Number of posts : 74
User Points : 10220
Location : The System

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Leb on Mon May 21, 2012 5:45 am

Juggs turned his attention to one of his men and nodded his head. The man stood up, unarmed as far as guns went, but with a machete on his belt that looked like it had been hacked together to hold on just long enough until a new one could be made. "Well then, shall we?"

The room was small just like Juggs had said, there was barely enough room to fit all of them inside because of the table and two chairs. A lightbulb barely held together, flickering erratically. Juggs sat down on one chair, the man he brought along leaned back on the wall and crossed his arms, chewing on something. Juggs did not waste any time getting to the case.

He slammed his pudgy fist hard on the table, shaking it about a little and sending a lot of the dust on it flying. "Tell me, mister Ulysses," Juggs said, "is the only thing you're good at screwing everything up?" Juggs pushed himself back from the table in anger, and dug up a wrapped cigarette from his pocket, struggling to light it with a rather shiny looking lighter. "You're not the only one who's gotten screwed lately, Ulysses. You know why that is? Because you had to go open your big god damn mouth about your plan with the shield, although I have to admit it wasn't as bad as back there in the pub. People talk, mister Ulysses. And they're afraid."

Juggs took a good deep breath and blew all the smoke right at Ulysses. "This city is a hellhole. But it's our hellhole. A lot of people have gotten used to living here, to survive. Now you plan to take the one thing these people have gotten used to in hopes that there's something out there. I got nothing against the plan myself, I'm a man of business after all, and there just might be venues out there that I could take advantage of. But that's just me and my boys. We started hearing about trouble a while ago. People getting their houses broken into. stuff stolen. The usual, really, but it was happening way too frequently for my taste. We do keep the neighbourhood safe after all, for a price. But the thing is, we can't catch them. They're good, and they're still doing it. Abe, tell mister Ulysses who got hit just a few days ago."

The man chewing answered half-heartedly. "Steve's place. Killed both him and his old lady. Still haven't found their daughter. Figure they did her in too." Juggs snuffed out the poor cigarette on the table. "Sweet girl, turned three last month. Besides her, the only thing missing were Steve's guns and ammo. He really had a knack for finding some. Guess someone really wanted those for some reason." Juggs turned his glare back at Ulysses.

"And you can bet your gun-toting ass that poo poo is going to hit the fan, Ulysses. A lot of people aren't happy with how you "military folks" are the ones calling the shots and telling them that they should leave everything behind. And some of 'em are really unhappy about it. They know the places to hit, when my guys are out on their rounds, hell, we've been hit a few times too. God damn rats are better at hiding than your sense of tact. If you're trying to save these people, you're not doing a very good job at making them think that."
avatar
Leb
Murderbeard

Zard :
Number of posts : 420
User Points : 24706

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by CC on Tue May 22, 2012 8:23 am

Ulysses sat back in his chair and relaxed, arms crossed. He wasn't sure if Juggs was lying or not, but his men were often sent to find weapons and ammunition, and they were often successful. It wasn't so implausible, then, that some of his men had been killing and looting- perhaps even raping.

"Listen, Juggs. My men are under constant surveillance and are held to high moral standards," Ulysses lied. "You can't possibly believe that we're the ones responsible for these misdeeds. What, with all these vagrants and criminals around, how the hell are we, such a small amount of the population, even remotely culpable?"

Ulysses sat forward, elbows on the table, hands clasped. "The shields have to come down. There's nothing I can do about that. There could be a perfect world out there, teeming with opportunities for men even like yourself. I'm sure there's other places where fat little thugs can prey upon the weak-minded and needy."

"But I won't deny one thing. There will be more problems if you get in my way, Juggs. I'm sure we can make room for you on our ride out- but if you keep getting your skidmarked panties in a twist, then I'm sure we can easily fill your position. Attacking me was your first mistake, and you're making your second by your actions today."

Ulysses stood up. "Are we done here, or is there some purpose to why I'm back here?"
avatar
CC
Member

Number of posts : 74
User Points : 10220
Location : The System

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Leb on Tue May 22, 2012 3:38 pm

Juggs' eyes narrowed and he grit his teeth. "You really are just what you look like. All guns and none the brains. It's not your men doing the robbing you gods damned crap-for-brains, if I really even thought about that, hell, we would have set up traps and ambushes already and brought you the bodies. No, what you have here- Lean in closer, I'll try to speak slower. Been a while since I had to explain things to a child, you know. What you got here are what you military people would call insurgents. Oh wait, you probably don't know what that word means. Rebels. Or wait, mean people. Yeah, that'll do for you right?"

Juggs leaned back on his chair again, with utter disbelief in his eyes. He hadn't had a lot of face-to-face business with Ulysses, but right then he had no gods damned idea how this man could be so important.

"I'm warning you Ulysses, you don't like me and I sure as hell do not enjoy your company either. But if this thing isn't solved before you finally get your shield ready to go and leave, I'm telling you, it won't be an exodus. It'll be a bloodbath. All those people neatly within the shield, and some of them armed. You don't need me to tell you what'll happen if someone starts shooting and people panic. These are our people, my customers and as far as we know it, the only humans left. And because you talk with your guns, god knows how many of them are gearing up for a revolution. Maybe I should invest in a gods damn tombstone, no a real monoli- oh sorry you probably don't know what that means either. A big god damn stone slab, and write on it "Here lies Humanity, brought down by the god damned Ulysses and his crew of clowns.", yeah, that'd be real nice wouldn't it?"

Juggs still looked like he had something on his mind but waved his hand as if to swat away those things. "Get out of here, I'm sure you have better things to do than listen how fast the last of humanity is going down the drain."
avatar
Leb
Murderbeard

Zard :
Number of posts : 420
User Points : 24706

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by CC on Thu May 24, 2012 9:00 am

"Humanity as you know it, Juggs. Humanity, consisting of the scum of the earth. You don't impress me. Say whatever pseudo-intellectual bull you want to say, but it won't change the fact that you have no real power. The City is mine, and I will crush you like a cockroach if you get in my way-" Ulysses realized he was shouting, and stopped midsentence. He knew that, in order to accomplish anything close to his goal, he would have to change his approach dramatically.

"But I'll humor you. I know you didn't invite me back here to sling rhetoric. So let's get past it. What do you want, and how can I make sure that your people get out alive? Are you willing to work with me? If you're not, that clears things up. If you are, then we both may live long and prosperous lives."

Ulysses stuck out his hand for an awkward handshake. "I don't like you. But I hate the idea of letting thousands die more than I hate the idea of working with you."
avatar
CC
Member

Number of posts : 74
User Points : 10220
Location : The System

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Leb on Tue Jul 17, 2012 5:22 pm

A few seconds passed with Juggs just staring at Ulysses. Finally, he reached his hand out, just to dig up another cigarrette from his pocket. "Abe." Juggs said, lighting the smoke in one go, biting down hard on it. "Escort our guests out. I do believe this meeting is over."

Abe kicked himself off from the wall, dusting his hands. "Right, you heard the boss. You guys need someone to walk you out or what?"
avatar
Leb
Murderbeard

Zard :
Number of posts : 420
User Points : 24706

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: Flesh and Bone

Post by Sponsored content


Sponsored content


Back to top Go down

View previous topic View next topic Back to top

- Similar topics

 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum