TWD: Survival RP Thread || PG-13

[speshal]

The camp was not completely safe, but it was the best the group had found in a while. They were at the top of a rather large hill with no civilization in sight. It was for the best, though. They had a moderate amount of supplies and would be able to go at least a week before any runs had to be conducted. The fire was giving off a clear smoke signal, but it was unlikely that any people or creatures around would notice considering the darkness. With no people to provide artificial light, the world as a whole was darker. The camp was framed by a few trees that had strings with cans attached to alert them of any possible intruders or undead issues. The fire itself was surrounded by a large rock that had obviously been there before and a few camping chairs.  A white minivan was also pulled up backwards so that the trunk could be used as seating.

Charlie, the group's leader, sat in the back of the same minivan he had been driving since Kate had died. His arms were outstretched and his palms out. It wasn't incredibly cold, but the warmth from the fire provided enough heat for it to be the most comfortable he had been in months. After the addition of a new member, the group had begun discussing what had led them there. Most people got broken up before they could produce their entire story, but choked their way through the basic details. When rotation reached him, he drifted off. There as too much to talk about and so little that he actually wanted to share. Others had asked him before, but he had always brushed the question off. This time, he would manage some vague story to throw everyone off his case.

"So, I guess most of you know by now that I started out in Illinois. Nothin' really all that special 'bout my story, though. I lost people, like we all did. I didn't really do much before it all went down. I kinda just lived, I guess. So, I dunno what else y'all want me to say. Pass, I guess. Next person," he said, attempting to make contact with each person in the group to drive home the point that he did not have anything to share.

[Mini]

The camp was secure enough - Zach knew that no place was truly safe for good and they couldn’t call anywhere a home anymore, but this was better than nothing. It was better than being alone fending for himself. Plus, listening to their stories provided him a slight distraction from his thoughts and memories. He’d lost his cousin in the outbreak - he’d been in Illinois for her wedding. He wondered about his friends back in the Northeast. His phone had died early on, but the last text he’d gotten from Yulia was that they were okay and fending for themselves and as much as he wanted to get back home he knew that it was near impossible at this point. Still, the boy could dream.

The fire crackled before him as he cleaned his fingernails with one of the knives he’d found scavenging as a new member of the group had sparked them telling their backstories. Charlie was doing a very short recount of what he was doing before the outbreak and scanning the crowd to see who would like to go next. He felt Charlie’s eyes land on him for a moment - probably hoping to hear more of what he’d been doing since even when he joined the group Zach was reticent about it. He wasn’t forthcoming with information even before this all happened. It was hard for him to open up to people - let alone near strangers about how he was at a wedding and he had to kill his own cousin because she got bit by her zombie husband. “I’ll pass.” He said calmly as he went back to his task at hand, waiting for someone else to go ahead and talk just so people's eyes wouldn't be looking at him with anticipation. 

[urmille]

Honestly, Gabriel felt guilty to be included in yet another survivor’s camp. He had hopped around groups of desperate, traumatized people so many times – and left so many people behind when things went wrong. Just listening to the people sharing brief history on themselves, and some skipping altogether made him feel ashamed. Internally, he prayed that his guilt didn’t show on his dirty mud-streaked face. Yet here he was again, huddled around a campfire in the dead of night with a bunch of strangers. These camps were always destined to fail eventually, even if it were after a few months of apparent cooperation. Gabriel had learnt that human nature rarely allows for such peace in these stressful situations. He had seen too many people disintegrate into a pitiful mess.


He was one of them. When the outbreak was first reported he acted like any confident young adult would, promising himself that he would pull a ‘lone wolf’ like in the movies he would watch throughout his teenage years. That ideology fell apart within a week after his parents, sister and her boyfriend disappeared. He was alone, most of his friends leaving abruptly to go stay with their own families. Gabriel quickly realized he could not fight by himself and sought out survivor groups. Over the past year he had left seven of these camps. Greed-driven people rebelled and leaders fell like stones. He felt that this one would be the same.


When it came to his turn for sharing his story, Gabriel drew his flannel shirt tighter around his body. He was uncomfortable with the whole idea of bonding over horrible past events, and he silently cursed the new member for bringing it up. “Born and raised in Pennsylvania… Went to college here in Nashville with my sister. Studied bioscience.” He paused. It hurt to say it, the fact that his sister and family were most likely gone. “I’m out here trying to find my family. I don’t dwell on the past. That’s it.” Telling strangers about himself was definitely not his favourite pastime, but skipping didn’t feel right to him. He felt like he owed these people something before it crumbled and he jumped to another group.

[Wyndi]

It was a good night.

Their camp was on high ground, there was a fire crackling away, and it would be a week before they needed to go for another supplies run. Hell, it might be the best night they'd had in ages - if it weren't for all the weeping.

Jesus. Miranda had been slouched over on the giant rock for the past hour, whittling away at one of her harpoon sticks, and all she'd heard was sad story after sad story. Yeah, yeah, everyone they loved had died and it'd been one misery after another since - she got the picture, thanks.

At least Charlie and Zach weren't digging too deep (or digging at all, in Zach's case). But now people were looking at her to speak up, like some of them actually cared. Like some of them actually believed that their little ragtag group was some kind of family instead of just a bunch of people brought together by circumstance. Miranda finished sharpening her harpoon, examining the point before setting it down.

"Sorry, don't have a sob story," she said flatly, straightening up and stretching. And really, she didn't. When the outbreak had started, she'd gotten out the hell out of Chicago. She'd joined up with Charlie's group while planning to flee Illinois, and here she was now. It didn't matter that her mother was dead. It didn't matter that she'd never know what happened to her grandparents in Louisiana. What mattered in the end was that she was alive, alive and healthy and fierce and kicking, and as long as she was all of those things? There was no point in crying.

[Kura]

The light and heat coming from the fire in this cold night were very welcome. Jonathan just wished he had a guitar with him, so he could play some music to raise the spirits...music always seemed to cheer up people, even if just a little. And it seemed not many things could do that, because the mood was heavy despite the good conditions the camp was in: they had enough food, warmth, and most importantly, they were (apparently) safe from the walkers. Still, when everyone was sharing how they lost their loved ones, the gloomy mood is understandable.

Jonathan sat on a stump close to the fire, and it seemed like it was his turn to tell his story, after a flat response from a girl with harpoons. It would seem wise not to piss her off. "Well, I'm a physicist from Washington state, and came to Illinois for work stuff. Then the outbreak happened, and after a few other survivor groups, here I am." He didn't have much to tell, but that was probably for the best; the less problems he had to report, the better. He looked around to see if anyone still hadn't told their story.

[speshal]

The wind around the camp picked up a bit. The fire grew for a moment before dimming down to roughly half its original size. Rustling form the trees and cans hung around them made it impossible to tell anything about the surroundings. It was much too dark to tell if a storm was coming. That was, until lightning struck. Charlie took a moment to consider the distance. After the image, he counted.

One. Two. T-.

"About two miles out," he announced, "I'm surprised we're just feeling the winds now. We need someone posted in each direction to watch. There's no trustin' these noise traps when the wind is already causing a problem. Ehhh, let's see. I'll take... uh... over there. Y'all just find a side and set up 'cause we're gonna be here a while."

Charlie walked off toward the side of the camp facing the storm, watching each lightning strike in amazement. It had always amused him. Even in this apocalyptic world storms really calmed him. He turn around to see the fire falling lower and lower. He called out to some kid that had recently joined the group to tend to it until the rain came. It was best to keep vision as long as possible. He hopped out from the rather beaten four-door Jeep the group had found and tried using as much of his body as possible to shield the fire while at the same time adding whatever dry wood that was in arm's reach. The fire grew.

[[Once everyone takes positions the real event(s) will occur]]

[Mini]

As the wind picked up, Zach was glad there was a distraction so he didn’t have to hear more sob stories. He’d heard plenty of them enough ever since he joined this group and he had no intention of creating any real bonds with the members of his group. They weren’t bad people, Zach just never enjoyed getting close to anyone - there were very few exceptions to that in his life. He watched the lightning rip through the sky and listened to Charlie count until they heard the rumble. Two miles out wasn’t that bad, the storm could easily blow in a direction away from them just as easily as it could head in their direction (which is what Zach was hoping for). Being this high up wasn’t the best idea in this weather, but as long as he stayed out from under any trees he should be alright. “I’ll go over there.” He announced, taking one of the more open lookout spots away from any trees and branches. He made sure his crossbow was loaded and his machete was on his belt just in case any walkers decided to show up. Most of the group knew that Zach liked to be left alone for the most part whenever he was on lookout. If anyone decided to join him, as long as they kept quiet and didn’t pry he’d tolerate the company. All the while he watched the clouds churn and the flashes of lightning rip through them lighting up the landscape every few minutes.

[fishstyx]

Steven glanced at the murky sky for the millionth time that night, feeling the buzz in the air. While the others had spoken, he'd been watching the skies, careful to look for any signs of impending lightning. It didn't always come with rain, and it was safer to be on the lookout sooner rather than later. "I'll be taking that direction," he grunted, pointing to an area deeper in the cover of the forest. "Let me be the one to die if lightning strikes. I've lived long enough." He chortled a little to lessen the negativity in his statement. "Now, then," he advised, "make sure you all have a good pair of shoes on, you hear? I heard that lightning'll go right through your shoes and out into the ground if you're lucky, so give it something nice to sink into." It was too late to tell the young fellow who had walked away as quickly as possible in the opposite direction. It was a shame, too, since he reminded him so much of his Michael. Unfortunately, Steven thought they had more in common than just their appearances. With that thought, he turned on his heel and made his way to the cover of the trees, settling in to the darkness of the storm and the shade. One hand clasped a wooden cane, and in the other was a key-chain in the image of a bat with its wings spread.

[Wyndi]

The first flash of lightning seared itself into Miranda's eyeballs, white-yellow-red. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision, her grip tightening on her knife and her harpoon as if she expected someone to take advantage of her sudden vulnerability, but the moment passed without incident: by the time things were back in working order again, the group had already begun scattering.

Miranda snorted as she slid her knife back into its hilt. The irony of her situation hadn't escaped her - here they'd climbed the hill, looking for a safe place away from any walkers, and now they were in the perfect place to be fried with lightning. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. At least you can kill walkers. What the **** does Charlie think we're gonna do if the storm comes our way?

She sure as hell wasn't going to sit around and let herself be used for Mother Nature's target practice. Choosing an look-out spot that was as free of any tall trees as possible, she crouched down low and waited. At the first sign of the storm hitting home, she'd hightail it out of there - descend the hill before anyone would notice.

[urmille]

Gabriel groaned as he heard the cans rustling and flashes of lightning strike through the air around them. Storms, especially storms at night while sitting on top of a high hill, never seemed to work out in a positive way. Why nobody had noticed the ominous weather above them earlier escaped him. He pulled himself upright and slinked off to the closest edge of the clearing, silently praying for no other interruptions during the night. The last thing they needed was a group member getting fried. He knew the chances of that were astronomically low, but then again, so was the chance of corpses reanimating. That comparison didn’t make him feel any better about their chances of survival.
He patted around his body before realising he must have left his gun somewhere in his pack. Gabriel cursed to himself and drew his well-worn hunting knife instead. Close-combat wasn’t his forte, but it would have to do in this case. Gabriel sighed and leaned against a tree under a rattling can.
 He reminded himself that there wasn’t an absolute chance that they were about to get jumped by a horde, promising himself that he must try to think logically about every situation. Thinking properly was the key to survival in his mind. 

[speshal]

Crack.
Another streak of light cut through the sky. It was still the same distance away, but it bit further to the left. It seemed a lot larger than the last. Charlie counted until the sound again, confirming that the storm was not moving toward them at any sizable rate. In fact, it may never reach the camp at all. He stood from his seated position, peering over the edge of the moderately steep hill that they were camped atop. Even in the midst of a windy storm everything was beautiful. Had it not been for the blinding night there likely would have been much more to look at. 
Crack.
Lightning struck again. Just as before, the sound confirmed it was a couple miles away. The only difference was the effect after it struck. In the distance, a small red light could be seen. It wasn't anything to worry about for the time being. It was likely just a small fire created by the strike that would be extinguished by the rain. But, there was no real pitter-patter in the distance. No signs of rain. It was evident that it hadn't started when the red glow manifested into a burning tree. It acted as a torch in the middle of the forest, illuminating some of the surroundings for those atop the hill. A few wandering walkers likely just attracted to the sounds of thunder. Nothing to concern themselves with at the current moment. Another stronger wind struck through the camp carrying a chilled wind. 
Crack.
"What the hell?" Charlie asked himself, standing and spinning in a full circle to get a view of their surroundings. The last crack had no lightning bolt to match it. His face scrunched in frustration. He was unsure what was actually happening. It sounded just light a quick strike.
Crack.
"Seriously, who the hell is messing around?" he shouted, letting his gaze shift between each member of the camp. After a moment of deliberation, Charlie came to the conclusion that the sound came from Zach's direction. In a few long steps he was by his side looking around to see what was going on.
Crack crack.
This time, he saw the source. Standing at Zach's watch gave him a clear view of that side of the hill. Two small flashes of light in the forest. It was either some mountain man's hidden stash of fireworks, or someone (or something) firing a gun. "Shit, sorry," he said, trying to pretend he had never made the false accusation. 

"Okay, someone - or someones - are in trouble. We gotta go. Now." he commanded, rushing toward his minivan. Charlie may have been one to jump to conclusions, but he only meant the best. It was tough in the position he was in. If he was some sort of kind, welcoming guy to every member of the group they would eventually take advantage and it would slowly fade into chaos. He cared enough to help anyone he could, in or out of his group. He threw a few things he had in a pile on the ground beside where his van had been parked into the trunk of the van and fired up the engine. "Everyone either into a car. We're leaving."

With five open seats in the Jeep and eight in the van when the third row is up, it was more than enough to accompany every survivor in the group and still have a few open seats.

[[Anyone can pilot the Jeep. Sorta first come first serve to claim driver, I guess.]]

[fishstyx]

Steven heard Charlie's orders with a calm ear. He'd been through things like this too many times since the outbreak for it to worry him or surprise him. The cracks of the lightning seemed to play the perfect symphony to the chaos unfolding in front of them, and now that he knew they were running he ran out of the trees to get away from the immediate danger of lightening. Listening for the sound of thunder after each flash, Steven surmised that the storm wasn't moving closer, which was good news. But they needed to get out of there, and fast.

Steve ignored the gunshots, choosing rather to run toward the closest vehicle, a beat up Jeep. If this was the time before the outbreak, Steven never would have condoned driving one of those death machines; but when facing death by accident and death by zombie, one was forced to choose to do many things one wasn't used to. He rushed over without using his cane (which was really more for use when he got tired) and jumped into the front seat.

"Get in quick now! And I don't wanna see no pushing or shoving!"

[Mini]

Zach kept his eyes scanning the horizon and the sky. Cracks from the lightning searing across the sky and small red flashes in the woods below. He narrowed his dark eyes as he watched what was going on, the wind picking up and whipping around him. He heard Charlie getting angry as the Cracks persisted even when there wasn’t lightning striping the sky and listened as his steps rushed over to him. He stiffened as he listened to the pace of his footsteps, even though he knew Charlie was just coming over to check out the noise. “Come on, man. You know I don’t carry any weapons that make noise.” He said. “There’s definitely activity down there, though. Could be another survivor.” He said as he adjusted his crossbow. He liked Charlie, if he was going to be perfectly candid. He was a good leader for this group and had rarely steered them wrong since he’d joined up.

“It’s fine.” Zach responded to Charlie’s apology. Just don’t do it again, he thought. He’d been wrongly accused of too many things in his life before this apocalypse, he didn’t need or want any more of it in this new life.

He knew that seeing those shots down the hill meant they were going to go see who could be in trouble and possibly helping them. Zach followed Charlie back to the main camground and gathered up whatever stuff he’d unpacked in the campsite back in to his pack and walked over to the old Jeep, taking the passenger seat next to one of the older members of their group. He never was one for a van filled with people. Sitting quietly next to Steve, one of the older members of the group, was much more preferable. His grip was tight on his crossbow that lay on his lap - not one for relaxing much in any of these situations.

[Wyndi]

The good: it didn't look like the storm was going to come any closer. A nice warm round of electrocution - avoided.

The bad: the group was now on one of its heroic rescue missions, all thanks to Charlie. Up next - a piping hot round of the unknown.

Miranda bit back a stream of curses, glowering at Charlie behind his back. Jesus, did they really need to stop and help out every single ****ing person they passed by? That was not how Miranda played: they could be driving right into a pit of walkers right now for all they knew. And for what? A stranger in trouble? Because it's not like we're going to be in trouble too once we get there, right? Goddamn heroes.

Her rucksack bounced uncomfortably against her back as Miranda slid into the jeep's back row, speargun and makeshift harpoon in hand. The minivan was fancier, sure, but it was too crowded - and the people in the third row had no easy way of getting out, short of busting out the windows or opening the trunk. All the extra features in the world couldn't make up for that one flaw.

Miranda slung the rucksack off, dumping it at her feet. Her weapons, she settled on her lap or leaned them against the back of the seat in front of her. Only then did she check to see who else was sharing the Jeep with her.

[Kura]

Jonathan didn't mind the lightning storm much - really, as long as it wasn't close to them, it wouldn't be a problem. He was more worried about the wind making too much noise and distracting them from a possible walker attack. That probably wasn't too big of a risk, though, given they were on high ground and could probably spot a horde from a fair distance, even at night.

Then, a different kind of cracking started. Charlie threw a general accusation at the group, then took it back with an apology, before barking some orders. Well, that's not the best way to follow accusations like that, but I guess we are in a hurry..., and a few other thoughts about leadership, ran through his mind. He had to admit, he was a bit jealous.

But there was no time for that. He looked at who went to each vehicle, and since the menacing lady (who, he thought, might be great at zombie hunting, looked like would give no thought at leaving him behind as zombie bait) went for the jeep, he chose to get to the van. Besides, getting to know the current group leader better might be beneficial. Through his life, he learned that being on the good side of the ones who give out the others couldn't go wrong. He ran up to the van and took shotgun.